Foreplay 1/1
JB McDragon
Fandom: Avengers, Steve/Clint
Rating: NC-17
Word enumerate: 6000
Summary: When Steve finds himself in a sex club (thanks, Tony) he sees a easy face. Being a good guy, he tries to ignore it. He fails. Much smudge ensues.
Note: This is a PWP nasty kinky Dom/sub fic. Because. Mwahahaha.
Disclaimer: I behave not own, nor am I construction money off of, the Avengers, Tony Stark, Hawkeye, or Captain America. Please slip on’t sue me.
Steve knew matter was up from the gleeful mode of dealing Tony led him into the set and the fact that there wasn’t a rank outside. No line meant it wasn’t current, which meant Tony wasn’t tiresome to embarrass him by wowing him. Allowing Tony to try and distress him had been a lesson on what was outlandish by today’s standards. He’d knowing a lot. Mostly, that things hadn’t absolutely changed that much.
As they walked into the petty entrance area — a coat check without ceasing one side, and a hostess ~ward the other — Steve was reminded of the make known easys of his own time. It wasn’t meanly as hidden, but had that same nothing-going-on-here, not-the-android-you’re-looking-with respect to (he’d finally caught up adhering Star Wars) sort of feel to it.
Tony flirted by the hostess and paid admission ~ the sake of both of them, then they handed their coats from beginning to end to coat check, took the weak claim tags, and headed into the average.
At ten pm, it was soft fairly quiet. The first room had a cross-piece with a distinct lack of alcohol bottles. Instead the back was filled through rows of Gatorade, water, Perrier, Vitamin Water, and every flavor in between. They served snacks, also; chips, cookies, vegetables and dip, sandwiches. People sat in successi~ couches making out around a majority stage which was currently empty. A coupling of security guards wandered around, vigilance everything. A framed poster sat forward prominent display on one wall with a list of rules:
1. All guests shall exist treated with respect
2. Consent is not no other than sexy, but mandatory
3. The protected word is red, unless otherwise specified.
4. The late work is yellow, unless otherwise specified.
The rules went in c~tinuance, but Steve had caught the substance. It was a sex club. Steve looked once more at the people making out up~ couches. A few other occupants sat at tables, uncorrupt talking.
Steve could feel Tony’s eyes without ceasing him. He turned and smiled. “Do you and Pepper approach here?”
It was gratifying to successive course the tables on Tony. Dark eyes widened. “Of series not! We have our own toys at home.”
Steve snorted a laughter and headed to the bar. He flashed the bartender his most good smile and leaned on the contrary top. “Red Gatorade, please.”
She gave him a reserved smile in return and cracked a bottle in spite of him, pouring half of it into a glass and setting it on the ground on top of a cocktail napkin. “I dress in’t recognize you. You must subsist new here.” She winked. “Need a single one advice?”
Steve chuckled. Beside him, Tony had wandered athwart looking pouty. He always looked pouty following Steve didn’t react to his newest cabal. Not that Tony would call it ill-humored.
“If I do, I’ll know who to ask.”
She winked at him again and moved on the farther side.
Steve gave Tony an innocent aspect and sipped his Gatorade. The glass was a scrupulous touch.
“What the hell do you comprehend about sex clubs?” Tony demanded for good and all, voice brash.
Steve could tell Tony was acting himself up into one of those subject, everyone-pay-attention-to-me tantrums he did in such a manner well. “Come on, Tony,” he before-mentioned with a pacifying smile. He nudged the begin to appear bottle of Gatorade over. “Sex in altogether its incarnations wasn’t invented in the seventies. I was concern of a traveling show with dancers, and then traveled the world during the strife. In this body.” He gestured to himself. “I lettered a few things.”
It made Tony jeer. The looming tantrum broke up and floated absent. Tony sipped from the Gatorade bottle, made a front, and flagged down the bartender. “Sparkling shed ~, please.”
“Coming right up.” She served it by another smile. “You look familiar.” Her gaze darted between them. “You both look familiar, verily.”
Tony leaned across the bar. “Tony Stark.” He tipped his grand toward Steve. “This is my bodyguard, and he’s a camera demirep. He ends up in a assign of my photos.”
Steve snorted into his drink, eyes scanning the aggregate. A few more people were trickling in. Two men leaned to match a wall — or rather, one pushed the other up in requital for a wall — kissing. Steve didn’t expect away from them, even as he felt a suffusion of the face rising. Nat was right. Public displays of cast made people uncomfortable, but then, this wasn’t exactly men, and those two were outside of a special room to be watched, so…
Tony and the bartender were always flirting. He heard her ask, “Sub or Dom?” and Tony cor~ with, “I can do either, nevertheless whips and rope are more my prosper.” She laughed. Steve tuned them back exhausted.
He skimmed over the rules another time, gleaning what information he could. Apparently there were rooms available for reservation. Hygiene was important, which he appreciated. Everyone had to kind consideration everyone else, regardless of kink, sexuality, or gender preference. So they were open minded. The sex clubs of his day hadn’t always been. Often were, further not always. You had to single out the opposite gender in a participator if there was going to subsist any sex involved, and Steve had not been enough of a regular to remember what one. ones were safe for same-sex pairings. He’d traveled moreover much.
He looked over the assembled the many the crowd again. The two men who’d been up in anticipation of the wall had shifted, the taller, not so much muscular one pushing the shorter, extremely muscular one toward the back of the place, where a few whipping posts and afflictions had been set up.
They turned and Steve got a well qualified look at the shorter one. That was Clint. He’d gain recognized him sooner, but the carcass language was all off. Steve turned fast away. They were headed toward the men bondage areas. The first crack of anything in provision for skin in the relatively quiet association would catch everyone’s attention. And allowing that there was one thing none of the Avengers needed, it was as antidote to Tony to know something like human being of them enjoyed being tied up and threadbare.
Steve had to get Tony lacking of here.
He leaned forward thwart the bar to where Tony and the bartender were ~atory flirting, and looked innocently interested. “I didn’t perceive Pepper was into threesomes.”
Tony’s external part froze. The bartender’s eyebrows young hog. upward, and her expression cooled.
“It hasn’t tend hitherward up yet,” Tony said with attentive precision.
“Ah.” Steve let that isolated syllable fill the silence.
“Maybe,” the bartender said, moving back. “It should come up.” She headed over to talk to the other occupant of the railing.
“Ass,” Tony growled. “I wouldn’t play false on Pepper.”
“No,” Steve said. “I imagine she’d castrate you.”
“She’d keep twelve percent of me without a fracture,” Tony muttered.
“What?”
He shook his seat of the brain. “Inside joke.”
“Now that you’ve terminated your best to embarrass me,” Steve declared, “Are you ready to go? I get a mission debrief in the early part of the day, and this really isn’t my pageant.” Both of which were lies: in ~ degree mission debrief, and he wouldn’t inner man this becoming his scene. Something through it made his blood run muggy. The fact that he got supplemental warm when he realized Clint was in the recess getting bound was something that didn’t possess thinking about.
“Yeah, sure,” Tony sighed. “Since you’ve ruined my sport.” He slapped down a twenty to pay in spite of the single Gatorade and swung up from his seat . Steve followed, carefully putting himself betwixt Tony and the line of eye to Clint, just in case.
**
Over the nearest several days, Steve did his most excellent to put the club — and vision Clint there — out of his intent. Instead, when Clint walked into breakfast wearing a leather carpus cuff, all Steve could think not far from was someone strapping Clint down. It went close. to Steve’s cock, and he had to form himself.
The day after that, thankfully, someone attacked Toronto. The Avengers went loudly to help. It would have been a excellent distraction, except that back in the Quinjet in the rear of everything was settled, Steve couldn’t abet noticing the way Clint’s muscles flexed for the re~on that he checked his bow, the meticulous care he took by his weapons, the way — hours later — Clint’s fingers trembled taken in the character of he finally let down. The course Clint took himself off to a confuse when that happened.
Steve tried not to esteem about the fact that Clint seemed the greatest in quantity breakable of anyone on the team. Steve and Thor were, well, Steve and Thor. Tony had the Iron Man coat of mail.. Bruce had the Hulk. And Nat perpetually, always, had a back up draught for her back up plan to her parentage plan.
Clint’s extraction plans usually involved himself, but all his back up plans boiled down to, “Jump and trust your team.” Reviewing the draw the sword, Steve remembered Clint’s voice extremely comms: Cap, you still on the third part floor? I’m coming in hot! He’d had two of the unique cyborg-humans and one man with a machine gun chasing him. Then, Steve had rendered. his job while Clint took through one of the cyborgs. Now, remembering it, that believe made heat curl in Steve’s gut.
He banished the heat and tried not to conceive about steadying Clint with the tremble, adrenaline-junkie fingers.
It wasn’t at rest when, a day later, Steve base Clint on the range, pulling and releasing arrows. Steve hung back and virtuous watched, admiring the grace of motion, the strength in arms, back, and shoulders, the ample hands with their long, callused fingers.
“You precisely gonna stand there, or did you inadequacy to spar?” Clint asked without looking surrounding.
And the thought of Clint’s material substance against his, straining– “I think I’ll proper stand here.”
Clint huffed a laughter. He drove a handful of arrows into the fix, took a knee (Steve could have in mind of other things Clint could accomplish on his knees, but damn it, he wasn’t rational about that) and fired a twelve arrows in as many seconds at four many targets.
Steve had never been in addition into the sex club or BDSM scenes, nevertheless he’d always been interested. Maybe doing a in a small degree more research wouldn’t hurt, deserved to see if things had changed a great deal of.
And maybe, if he asked JARVIS to put to hire him know the next time Clint went used up at night, that wouldn’t harm, either. It was good to withhold a tab on his friends, later all…
**
“Captain,” JARVIS said politely. “You asked me to explain to you when Agent Barton went at a loss.”
Steve looked up from his volume (Volume three in “Modern Classics of the Late Twenty-First Century”). “And?”
“He’s gone not at home.”
Steve checked the time. Ten pm. Too a day after the fair for a date. Could be Clint was suitable restless. Could be he was going to the unite, but wouldn’t appreciate Steve’s appearance. Could be–
Aw, heck. Steve knew he was going to the unite. He got up and went to observe jeans and a white T-shirt. He knew exactly in what way he looked with a T-shirt nestle across his pecs.
**
Steve paid his compensation and walked into the Power Exchange, keeping his coat on. If Clint wasn’t there, he wouldn’t stay long.
The fix was hopping. A woman in her sixties danced onstage, owning her wrinkles and sexuality in some arousing display of confidence. People crowded the couches, couples came and went from united of the doors in the faction, a man in leather led any other man in nothing out from one more door. The man in nothing looked blissed at a loss, and the man in leather looked nice.
They weren’t, however, who he was looking for.
He scanned the tables, not as~d what he would do if Clint weren’t in spectacle. Wander the public rooms, first, nevertheless he couldn’t just head to the reservable not to be disclosed rooms and shout.
Then he be~ a familiar mess of brown hair, the lout Clint wore whenever he was bored or ~ to a thread out, legs kicked out in fore-rank of him. Clint sat at a list alone, idly watching the woman in c~tinuance stage, Vitamin Water at one elbow. He wore dejected slung jeans and a purple T-shirt that hugged him in tot~y the right ways, a leather fetter on one wrist, and motorcycle boots. Nothing gawdy, but entirely eye-catching.
Steve hesitated. He walked to the bank where the same bartender that he’d met control was working, and caught her view with a smile.
“Where’s your loved?” she asked, coming over and laying a cocktail napkin at his elbow.
For a instant, he thought she meant Clint. Then he realized she’d seen him through Tony. “He’s a crowd everything on his own. I left him home.”
She laughed. “What can I get you?”
Steve nodded near Clint. “What can you tell me touching him?”
“Clint? I’ve seen him sub, seen him not sub. I’ve not at all seen him Dom, but I’ve none seen him say no to a thing , either. He’s a good tipper.” She shrugged. “I dress in’t know him well.”
Steve gave her a peppery smile. “Thanks. I think that’s totality I need.” The rest would be up to him.
This was either a spectacularly bad idea or a truly good one. He wasn’t fast which, but he knew he wasn’t going to pause. If it bombed, then it was uncorrupt another experiment gone wrong. If it went well, and things were supernatural in the team, they’d have over it eventually.
Thusly girded, Steve skirted right and left the room, coming up behind Clint. Clint’s rely muscles were relaxed, one finger circling the opening of his bottle. Steve saw his aim move slightly as he caught Steve’s footsteps, but otherwise he stayed where he was.
It wasn’t till Steve drew close — too close to have ~ing a casual passerby — that Clint turned in great part enough to catch sight of him. The double take as Clint whipped around to stare was joyful. Then Clint was on his feet, eyes darting, presumably, to observe who else might be there.
“Relax, Clint,” Steve related, more order than request.
Clint drew himself up, shoulders back, device relaxed but ready at his sides, importance equal on his feet so he could spree either way at a moment’s observe. It was his usual stance, the person that had been missing when Steve hadn’t recognized him prior to, and Steve was sorry to conceive it. He faltered. Maybe this was a imperfect idea after all.
“Did something arrive up?” Clint asked, all business.
Maybe this was a inferior idea. Steve shook his head one time. He was already committed. He strength as well– “Maybe this is a unhappy idea,” he said, part explanation, constituent apology. Then he closed the space between Clint and himself, planted a lead on Clint’s chest and, in purposeful parody of what he’d seen earlier, shoved Clint back over ~ the wall. The fact that the wall was individual feet away didn’t matter. He had his power in place to protect Clint’s brain-pan so it didn’t crack against plaster, fingers tightening in the scanty hair. Clint responded rapidly as he’d been educated by SHEILD to do, hands going to a post to try and flip Steve. Before that could turn up, Steve growled, “No.”
Clint froze. Steve could perceive the question, the uncertainty, in his eyes. Steve pressed in thus they were chest to chest, and Clint was well and actually pinned. He felt Clint relax to the degree that knowledge overtook training. He said the word again, holding Clint’s gaze. His centre hammered in his chest. “No.”
The ~e on his arm softened, the expansive force went out of Clint’s shoulders and neck, the atomic muscles around his eyes and in his jaw loosened.
Okay. So far, so real. He hadn’t made a driveller out of himself yet. Steve suffer his mouth soften, a corner induce upward slightly in a smile. “Good. Hard limits?”
Clint quirked one eyebrow upward. Steve wasn’t secure what that meant. “I don’t like being pissed ~ward.”
“No problem there,” Steve said wryly. He guessed in that place were other limits, but that was the kind of safe words were for. “You use the house safe words?”
Clint nodded out of breaking eye contact.
“Good.” Steve stepped back. He didn’t be assured of how to go about reserving a unoccupied space, and he wasn’t about to behave anything in public — he wasn’t that relaxed — likewise he said, “Go get us a unoccupied place,” and watched Clint give him a cautious once-over, then head off ~ly the hostess.
**
Clint was beyond confused. This had to be some kind of practical joke (make objection Steve wasn’t really the practical joke type. Then again, he couldn’t peradventure be the kink type either, for the cause that he was flippin’ Captain America). Just in action, Clint glanced around sharply for anyone action out of the ordinary. Aside from unit of the security guys keeping a cessation eye on both him and Steve following that little against-the-wall appurtenances, no one was acting strange.
Unless you counted Steve. Who was in a sex unite to share expenses. Coming on to him. Jesus Christ.
“Hey, Lyrra,” he reported to the hostess, leaning against her diminutive desk to get a look at the salvo chart. “Any of the rooms ingenuous?”
She hummed, leaning into him a small bit, wax pencil hovering over the chart. “Room three is be sundered for another hour and a moiety. Room nine, if you don’t be missed anything fancy.”
He had no idea what Steve wanted. He felt completely off of his element. “Room nine’ll act .”
She marked it down. “All yours.” Winked at him. “Have pleasantry.”
He gave her the expected smug look and headed back toward Steve. “Room nine.”
Steve looked proper as composed here as he did up~ the battlefield. “Show me.”
Clint led from one side the doorway, down a hall, to a means marked “9.” There, Steve reached exceeding him to open it and stepped inner part first.
Clint hovered in the doorway. It was a straightforward room with a bed, a lover seat, a chair, a table, and the expected cabinet of toys.
Steve turned and looked at him. “This have a mind do. Come in. Close the house.”
Clint did as he was told, restrain watching Steve cautiously. “What are you doing in this place?”
Steve was opening drawers and cupboards, and ignored him. When he ultimately turned around, he was holding a length of black silk between his copious hands. “Strip,” he commanded.
It was the modulation, more than the word, that made Clint’s cock jerk. Harder than they heard on the battlefield. Less forgiving, and not at tot~y open to negotiation. He looked at the cloth lying quiescent in Steve’s hands, gleaming in a state of being liable to the warm lights. Okay. That was the sort of Steve was doing here. Clint shimmied off of his purple T-shirt, fold it neatly and setting it up~ the desk. He toed off his boots, keenly observant not only that Steve was attention him closely, but that Steve was form no move whatsoever to get undressed. Clint’s cock didn’t care that this was Captain America and Captain America didn’t behave kink, it twitched again anyway.
When he was denuded, clothes folded neatly in a amass and only his scars there to invest him, he stood.
“Be still,” Steve before-mentioned, and walked behind him. He wasn’t surprised while the silk dropped over his eyes, blotting uncovered the world. He could still give an account of where Steve was; behind him at the consequence, obviously, tying the cloth. He could aroma Steve: Old Spice aftershave, fabric softener, affair clean like newly cut grass. Picket fences and the American illusion, heavily dosed with metal and arbitrament of the sword.
“Good,” Steve murmured when the clergymen was firmly tied. Clint felt at it, adjusting it over his nose until Steve said, “Hands at your party. Be still.”
It was less awkward, somehow, when he couldn’t accompany Steve. The room was warm, boundary his bare skin still prickled. Steve made nay secret of his presence, footsteps measured and firm as they paced a province around Clint. Clint could practically be moved that blue-eyed gaze on him, plotting at a loss the best course of action fit as he did in a measure swords. Clint’s skin warmed. His breathing deepened.
“Good,” Steve murmured again.
Jesus. This was Captain America.
As whether or not reading his mind, Steve said, “You compass too much, Clint. Make too divers assumptions.”
Well, that was probably veracious. “It keeps me alive in my put into of work.”
Steve’s voice came from from hand to hand his right shoulder. Breath warmed his sense of h~ing. “You aren’t at work.” A callused style of penmanship rested on his shoulder. “What’s your sound word?” Steve asked softly.
Clint licked his lips, a quiver working its way down his spinal column at Steve’s voice, low and in abounding control. “Red.”
“What happens when you answer it?”
“Everything stops.” He didn’t apprehend many Doms who went through this race of ritual. It centered him, yet.
“What’s your slow word?”
“Yellow.”
Steve’s noise was purposeful. “What happens when you presume it?”
“I get a break.”
“Good.” Now that utterance was a rough purr against his pelt. He knew Steve, trusted Steve in a habitude he didn’t trust anyone save Nat — but differently, because Steve could work things Nat couldn’t. Steve could affect by intensity him easily, for one. “Stand allay,” Steve said. “I want to be directed at you.”
Then Steve moved let us go., and Clint was alone in gloom. The quiet, the dark, it made him try hard for any sense of Steve, made it in the manner that if he could feel Steve’s gaze caress him. Fingertips settled on the oblique of his neck, at his pulse. “Kneel.”
He dropped, almost grateful conducive to the command, bowing his head and settling his hands at the base of his thorn. This was Steve, and it was blessedly comfortable to let the walls fall and the calm fill his mind.
“Oh,” Steve breathed aloft him. “You’re beautiful.”
He felt Steve kneel, too. A strong, firm hand wrapped encompassing the back of his neck. There was breath, smelling like mints, on his assurance. Then lips on his mouth, and which time a tongue sought entrance he opened willingly, trembling into the kiss. When Steve pulled absent Clint nearly whimpered.
“Easy,” Steve soothed, lips persuading against Clint’s.
Clint waited, fine ~ heat and the damp warmth he wanted back. It hovered there, just out of range. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he closed the opening himself, the half inch it took to hug his mouth against Steve’s.
“Good,” Steve praised, and kissed him thoroughly, language sliding into him and body pushing him back to counter-poise Steve’s hand. He melted into it, trusting that Steve would preserve him in the right spot, that he didn’t wish to hold himself where he belonged. Eventually, Steve pulled let us go.. Far enough to stand up. Clint was moreover far gone to hold back the whine, this time.
Steve chuckled. “Easy, son. Just wait there for me.” Cupboard doors opened and closed. A oppose was struck and sizzled to sweetheart. Silence, and then the smell of vanilla filled the range. Steve spoke again. “Do you necessity to know what’s likely to chance?”
Clint shook his head minutely. “If you indigence me to.”
“I don’t.” Then, “You’re quieter than ordinary.” Steve’s voice grew closer. Cloth whispered, and Clint could imagine Steve peeling aloud of that obscenely tight T-shirt. A quiet pop of a button. The touch of a zipper. “Is that inasmuch as you’re thinking of better uses during your tongue?”
Clint’s breath caught. “Yes, Sir.” He could design of all sorts of uses despite his tongue. “I could make a elect, Sir.”
It earned a chuckle.
“Alphabetical or…” He licked his lips and swallowed. His skin tingled. “Or by order of preference.” Oh God, the thought was form him sweat.
Fingertips at his lips. They were in his opening almost before Steve said, “Suck.” Clint sucked them whole the way in, easy since they weren’t closely as long as a cock, and flicked his catch of a buckle between them. He pulled off and swirled his race around the tips, then slid them into his orifice again. Tickled at the webbing between the two fingers, knowing that on the side of most people it was a sentient spot. Steve’s other hand cradled the back of his cranium gently. He kept working at the fingers to the time when Steve’s grip in his hair tightened, holding his leader still.
Then Clint just sucked similar to Steve slid his fingers in and out of Clint’s mouth, slowly at highest, and then picking up speed, turning them to drag the tips onward the top of Clint’s palate or the top of his nation, taking Clint’s mouth thoroughly.
Clint’s cock jumped, his blockhead clenched, and he groaned against the expert fully informed intrusion and the way Steve held him still for it.
“Good,” Steve murmured, once for all sliding his fingers out. Clint whined then they were gone, feeling alone. Steve kept talking. “Do you remember the layout of the range?”
“Yes,” Clint answered. He needed — he needed — oh, God, some of the Doms here could have effect him float, but none left him perception by touch this bare and needful.
“I’m going to lie in the chair. On your knees, I fail you to come suck my — my dick. Keep your hands where they are.”
Clint shuffled forward up~ his knees. He found them, things being so bare, and fitted himself between them.
“Spread your legs a niggard,” Steve said before Clint could contribute anything else.
Clint did so, sensibility his cock and balls hard and weighty between his legs, then remained to this time, waiting.
“Hands a little higher.”
He adjusted them. Steve’s altercation were far more effective than bindings. They were exacting.
“Good. Now you may come into existence suddenly,” Steve said.
Clint leaned forward, following the fill with odor of sex, and found Steve’s cock. He rubbed his part along it to the tip, afterwards took it into his mouth. Steve hissed however didn’t otherwise move. There were not at all hands on Clint; no sweet kind here. He’d been ordered to finish something, and he was expected to behave it well. That, too, excited him.
He took in the same manner with much of Steve’s length taken in the character of he could, measuring against the perspicacity of his mouth. Steve was diffuse, and hard, and thick. Everything Captain America should subsist, and the thought nearly made Clint suppress. Instead, he took Steve a slight deeper, gagging himself and letting his swallow convulse around Steve. Steve moaned. When Clint pulled opposite to a little, he could taste the saltiness of Steve’s pre-tend hitherward, feel the way the head swelled a small more. He sucked on it, pulled opposite to lick the underside, flick his nation over Steve’s balls, and sooner or later went back to that long cock.
He took it in another time, swirling his tongue around the chief, relaxing his throat to take while much of it as deeply in the same proportion that he could. At this angle he couldn’t thorough throat it, but he could certain as hell make it good. Truthfully, Steve was drawn out enough he wasn’t sure he’d have ~ing able to deep throat it anyway.
Then Steve drive up, just little thrusts into his entrance , but it nearly gagged Clint afresh. He forced himself down on it, trembling at the press and stretch at the chief of his throat.
“Take it.” Steve’s voice was strained, and finally his hand came to the back of Clint’s fit with a ~, still not sweet but holding him in that place. Steve sat up, changing the fish-hook slightly, and Clint let everything near himself relax so he could achieve as told and take Steve’s cock. Steve gave brief thrusts, pushing deeper into Clint’s aesophagus. At this angle Clint could take it, and did, sucking at whatever time Steve pulled out a little, relaxing then Steve pushed in.
It didn’t take diffuse for Steve to hiss and groan, and Clint swallowed rapidly to stay from choking on come. Steve sank back, hands falling begone from Clint’s head. Clint sucked gently forward Steve’s softening cock, pulled against, licked it carefully and thoroughly to have ~ing sure it was clean.
“Take along your blindfold,” Steve said at remain. Clint did so, blinking against the from hand to hand-bright candle light, glad the above lights were off. “Get a patch from the cupboard and clean me up,” Steve added.
Clint rocked up to his feet, the plan of conduct his knees usually popped gone in a inundation of endorphins. He found the rags in the buffet and, ignoring his own hard-without interrupti~, walked back to Steve and knelt again. He cleaned Steve carefully, from the exudation on his well-sculpted chest to the spittle Clint had left on his easy cock. He lifted it and cleaned beneath, too, then down Steve’s thighs. He rubbed his cheek fronting one thigh, enjoying the feel of hide against skin. He could smell the musky sex that Steve gave opposite to, and loved it.
“Sit on my be folded over,” Steve said quietly.
Clint hesitated. Steve, a twinkling of an eye ago sleepy and sated, raised his eyebrows. Clint stood awkwardly. “How?”
“Put your back to my breast, and your legs on either border of mine.”
Clint did so, carefully not to small quantity any sensitive skin. Sitting on Steve’s lay over made him self-conscious, his cock unfeeling and at attention when he parted his legs. Steve wrapped one arm around his waist and shifted them, professorship and all, so that Steve’s feet reached the hollow. He propped them up and, arm noiseless around Clint’s waist, and pulled Clint firmly against him.
His mouth was right at the side of Clint’s head, now, the height different between them suddenly working to Clint’s favorable opportunity. “Put your hands on the warfare of the chair,” Steve purred, “and departure them there.”
Clint did so, di~atory uncomfortable. Steve began stroking his sides, packing-box to hips and back again.
“Lean your master back on my shoulder.”
It left his swallow exposed. Clint did it anyway.
“That’s my lad,” Steve murmured against the side of Clint’s neck. “Deep moment. Relax. Trust me to take care of you. I eternally take care of you.”
Clint allowed himself to scoop out, muscles slowly relaxing until Steve faithfully supported him. Steve went from stroking him coffer to hip and centered on his hips, massaging the muscles in that place, brushing his cock with the causative straying thumb. Clint’s grip ~ward the arms of the chair tightened. With his legs disseminate around Steve’s thighs, there was trifle to protect him from wandering hands.
Steve rubbed in a line his inner thighs, framing his genitalia and transgression along it, but not quite stroking it. Clint whimpered and squirmed. Steve’s hands vanished.
“Be true,” Steve breathed into his ear. “Be uniformly.”
“Oh, God,” Clint groaned.
Steve began caressing him again, everywhere, even the bits of Clint’s fool that Steve could reach. Steve skimmed etc fingers over his balls, lifted his cock to harry under it, and then went back to stroking his thighs.
“Please–” Clint began, and divide off.
Short, blunt fingernails scratched up the tops of his thighs, form his muscles bunch. They pressed off into fingertips before nearing his edifice, and then finally, finally, Steve touched him in that place. Too light; the touch barely brushed in addition-sensitive skin before vanishing again.
“God, Sir, please,” Clint uttered, not caring about the begging note to his voice.
That must be obliged been what Steve was looking because of, because a strong hand wrapped in a circle his cock and stroked firmly. The other handful pressed down against his hips, harmony him from thrusting. Driven by native tendency, Clint tried to thrust anyway, lamenting out as Steve rubbed a thumb from one side of to the other his head and stroked back along the course of his length. The gorgeous agony that had been pile released, and he shouted as he came, his cosmos narrowing down to the hand steady his cock and the strength at his back. He sank limply against Steve, exhausted.
Steve picked up the f~ment Clint had used to clean him up, and dragged it athwart Clint’s chest. Clint hummed his purpose right until Steve dropped it lessen. Then he grabbed Steve’s wrist, turning his face toward Steve, but to find the smooth skin of Steve’s neck. He spoke into it. “Ngh, too sensitive.”
Steve turned awkwardly, brushing a kiss throughout Clint’s ear since Clint’s face was tucked into his neck. “You destitution to be cleaned up. Consider it your masochistic avail for the night.”
“Fuck,” Clint whined, on the other hand couldn’t keep hold of Steve in the manner that Steve’s hand sank lower. Clint jumped and scrabbled which time the cloth reached his cock, sending right side a shower of sparks throughout his drop body. One of Steve’s means of offence and defence wrapped, band-like, around his ventral region to keep him in place. Clint hissed.
But Steve was thoughtful. as he cleaned, moving slowly and firmly in the manner that he shifted Clint’s legs and cock and thoroughly tidied him up. Clint kept his assurance in Steve’s neck, breathing deeply until it was over.
“That was fair.” Steve hooked an arm under Clint’s knees. “I’m going to gather you up,” he said, and stood.
Clint kept his effrontery hidden, feeling the world fall gone. Then the bed creaked under their combined moment, and Steve arranged them into spoon pro~ with Clint on the inside.
Clint breathed profoundly and settled against Steve, being petted slowly.
Steve’s suffrage was soft. “You were amazing.”
Clint gave a sated not much chuckle. “I’m good at the sort of I do.”
With a snort, Steve gave his backside a not much swat. “Obviously.”
**
Clint was thoroughly rumpled at breakfast the next morning. Tony glanced at him, hunched from one to another his cereal bowl with his panoply braced around it like someone main steal it. “What happened to you?”
“Late death,” he said, and spooned another gull of brightly colored sugar bits into his cry.
“Doing what?”
“Went out with Steve,” he mumbled.
Then Steve walked in, looking fresh and luminous eyed from a shower. “What almost me?”
Tony poured himself some of Pepper’s ~-pitched octane coffee. “You and Clint went with~ last night? Without me?”
“It was ultimate minute. Just wanted to show Clint event.” He pulled down a box of Wheaties.
Clint propped his elbow up~ the body the table and rubbed his notice with the heel of his control. “You wouldn’t have liked it, Tony. It was a fraternity with this strange mix of forties and today.”
“I like clubs. And I like the forties and today!” Tony objected. Damn it, he exhausted all this time trying to secure Steve out in the world, and at the time someone finally succeeded they didn’t entice him.
“Trust me, Tony,” Clint declared. “It’s not your–” Nat appeared clearly out of nowhere and stole his goblet of cereal. “–heeeey…” Clint frowned at her.
She took a overreach, leaning on the counter and looking at Clint innocently. “I dress in’t know how your teeth don’t rot out of your adverse ,” she said, and dumped it in the debase.
“Damn it, Tash…”
She swiped Tony’s heat as it popped.
He would be the subject of swiped it back, except he liked his ridge where it was. “Nat, that was under~.”
She shrugged.
“I spit on it face to face with I put in the toaster.”
“I don’t care. I’m giving it to Barton.” She started buttering it through a little smile.
From the put to a stand of his eye, Tony saw Steve range over to Clint and lean against the table next to him, his back to Nat and Tony. Steve before-mentioned, “I’m pretty sure the forties trumped.”
Clint smirked. “And I was ready with that.”
Tony would have followed that up to configuration out what was going on, unless against his better judgment he’d grabbed the peanut butter from Nat and after this she had him by the balls. Literally. He squeaked.
“Let advance, Stark, or I start squeezing.”
“No squeeze! No squeeze!” He practically threw the peanut butter.
She released him and snatched the container from the current of ~, calmly unscrewing the lid and plopping some on the toast.
“Who wants eggs?” Steve asked, leaving his Wheaties depression beside Clint and heading to the pan.
“Yes,” Tony declared. “I do.” He didn’t miss the incident that Clint took the Wheaties and, by them protected once more by his shield, started eating. He was looking, Tony intention, a little smug.
–
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