Archive of Our Own

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Rumlow asked him. They were sitting opposite each other on the helicopter, along with the rest of the STRIKE Alpha. Clint had done a few ops with them lately while Nat was busy with something above his clearance.

“I always get the same reaction from people when I tell them.”

“Well?”

“The circus.” All the guys laughed and Clint gave them the finger. “Whatever man, I still got six of those guys before they caught even a glimpse of you all going in.”

“Yeah, no, I'm impressed,” Rumlow said with a lingering look. Clint could feel his cheeks heating. He'd been getting a few of those during the op and could say for sure by now that he wasn't imagining things.

It didn't come as a big surprise then when Rumlow asked him to grab a drink later. Clint kinda wished he hadn't done it in front of everybody when there was catcalling from Rollins, but some part of him was pleased as well. Rumlow clearly didn't mind people knowing about his interest in Clint and there was something nice about that.

“You mentioned that your sister was moving to the city?” Clint asked once they were seated with beers in front of them. “Younger or older?”

“Older. Ten years. It's a pain in the ass,” Rumlow said with a laugh. “She already demanded I let her sleep on my couch while she apartment hunts. Kinda hard when I'm living on base.”

“How can you stand the barracks? I was there for a couple of years but it's pretty tight quarters.” It had been right after he started with SHIELD, back when he'd had zero trust that the paychecks would keep coming.

Rumlow shrugged. “It's a lot easier for missions. You know Alpha gets pulled in on a moments notice more often than not. I'm the team lead, I gotta be there. You've got your own place, whereabouts?”

“I'm in Bed Stuy. Got a dog too.”

“Idyllic.” Rumlow sounded half-mocking.

“Better than the base,” Clint said with some bite. Rumlow's answering grin was sharp, but he simply gestured for another round.

Two turned to three turned to four. On an empty stomach, Clint was feeling pleasantly buzzed. They chatted about work, about Clint's bow, about the recently defrosted Captain America. Rumlow was making a point of paying and the whole thing had the distinct feel of a seduction. Thing was, Clint was kind of easy. He knew that about himself, and he was pretty sure Rumlow could tell. So it was sort of nice, that he bothered.

“Come with me, Barton,” Rumlow said, jerking his head towards the toilets and Clint followed him to the men's. Rumlow didn't bother to get them in a stall – as soon as the door closed behind them Clint was pushed against it, Rumlow's mouth tracing his jawline, Rumlow's hands working Clint's belt open.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” Rumlow growled. “Fucking pretty boy. Look at you all hard for me already. Slut. You like to be called that?”

Clint shrugged. It wasn't the first time he heard it. At least Rumlow said it less aggressively than pretty boy. Clint wasn't sure how he felt about that one either.

“Know what you are, is that it?” Rumlow palmed his cock, which strained towards him at the attention.

“Fuck off,” Clint told him. Rumlow laughed.

“Turn around, baby, let me make it up to you.”

Clint turned, resting his forearms against the door. He couldn't help but worry about somebody pushing their way into the men's, but Rumlow must have liked the risk, and a stall would've been too tight a fit for the both of them anyway. Clint should've probably thought about it before following him.

Rumlow pulled his jeans to mid-thigh, kneeling down behind him. Rumlow's hands were spreading his cheeks apart and then his hot breath was over his hole, followed by Rumlow licking him open, slowly and thoroughly. Clint could feel his legs trembling, muffling any sounds he wanted to make against his wrist. Fuck it felt good, rough stubble scratching his skin, hot pressure moving across his rim over and over, Rumlow licking inside and eating him out.

“You ready for me, baby?” Rumlow asked, getting up off the floor, full body contact against Clint's back.

“Yeah,” Clint said. “You got stuff?”

“Sure.” Rumlow moved away a bit and there was the sound of a condom packet opening. There must've been lube as well, because when Rumlow pushed in it was in one smooth thrust. Rumlow felt huge inside him, stretching him open and Clint couldn't help the moan that escaped him.

“That's it,” Rumlow said, rocking his hips and pushing deeper into Clint. “Fuck you're tight.”

Clint panted against his wrist, trying to adjust to Rumlow's girth while the man pulled almost fully out and then slammed back in. And then there was a muffled sound and someone was pushing at the door. Clint pushed back with all his weight. “Fuck.”

“What the hell,” a man's voice said outside.

Rumlow pushed into Clint, pressing him against the door. “Fuck off!” he yelled at the man outside.

“The hell are you doing in there?”

Rumlow laughed. “Fucking. So unless you wanna come inside and watch, get the fuck out of here.”

“Asshole!” the man called but he stopped pushing at the door, clearly choosing to walk away. Clint felt relieved, he wasn't sure Rumlow had been kidding about the watching thing. Some part of him even liked the idea, but at the same time it felt humiliating, getting fucked in the bathroom with some random person witnessing.

Rumlow's next thrust hit his prostate and Clint muffled a moan. Rumlow wasn't having any of it. His fingers gripped Clint's chin, turning his head to the side and his hand patted his cheek. “C'mon, let me hear you. Let all of them hear you, slut. I know you want to.”

It wasn't really what Clint wanted, anyone hearing them, but Rumlow was clearly getting off on the idea so he didn't bite back the next noises that wanted to escape. Rumlow moved a hand from his hip to palm Clint's cock, rubbing with a pressure that made Clint release a strangled groan.

“That's it baby, doesn't that feel good. See how when you're good for daddy, you get nice things?”

Clint groaned. “Fuck, I'm gonna come.”

“That's right.” Rumlow pushed in harder, his grip on Clint tightening almost to the point of pain. Clint let himself moan, not caring anymore who heard them, thrusting into Rumlow's grip. Rumlow's cock was impaling him until he couldn't breathe, until pleasure built in him and took him over the edge, spilling over Rumlow's hand.

Rumlow kept fucking him through it, groaning as Clint's muscles tightened around him. It felt rough but Clint felt almost high on it, letting Rumlow push him against the door and fuck into him until he was coming, his hips jerking against Clint.

Rumlow pulled out and got rid of the condom, leaving Clint to pull his pants back on.

“Made a mess of you, did I?” Rumlow said, washing his hands at the sink and eyeing Clint through the mirror. “Even better without the condom, would get you dripping come after. Eat it out of you, you'd like that?”

Clint could see himself blushing in the mirror and Rumlow laughed, wiping his hands off. He came over to Clint and put his arms around him, not batting an eyelash when somebody came in and gave them a speculative glance on their way to the stalls. “You know we can't do that,” Clint said, just to make sure. They could've done the testing, but there was no way Clint was the only person Rumlow was fucking.

“No, don't worry. Just a fantasy,” Rumlow said. “So, Alpha is off to Bolivia tomorrow but let me give you a call when we're back, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Clint said, feeling warm all over.

“Good boy.”

**

Rumlow called him the following week, inviting him to a poker game at the barracks. “We'll take over the kitchens, nobody will bother us. Just us guys. Andrews isn't coming, she says it's too much testosterone.”

“You sure you wanna play cards with me?”

“What, you think you're good or something?” Rumlow laughed. “Well, bring it on.”

Clint almost felt bad about wiping the floor with them. The only one giving him a challenge was Yang but even he had to bow out at the end. He was good but Clint had learned at the circus and honed his skills with Nat.

“Well, it's not gonna make me rich, but it'll keep me in pizza for a week,” Clint said, grinning as he collected his winnings.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Rollins grumbled. “Rumlow, get me a beer while you're up.”

Rumlow threw all four of them a bottle, then made his way over to Clint's armchair. “Make room, Barton.”

“How?” Clint asked, laughing. There was an empty seat on the couch next to Travers, but Rumlow ignored it, instead leaning over to murmur in Clint's ear, not quite low enough to not be audible to others, but giving the illusion of privacy.

“Use your imagination. How might I want you?” Rumlow said. “Gonna sit on daddy's lap?”

Clint flushed but got up. Rumlow sat and leaned back with a sharklike grin. “C'mon, no need to be shy. Isn't that right guys?”

“Believe me,” Travers said dryly. “We've seen it all.”

“Just sit your ass down, Barton,” Rollins said.

Clint felt awkward about it, but he sat down on Rumlow's thighs. Rumlow's arm snaked around his waist and pulled him flush against his chest. “Good boy.”

They sat around chatting for a while. At first Rumlow kept his hands to himself, but that didn't last long. His fingers trailed the inseam of Clint's pants until they rested on Clint's cock, rubbing lightly up and down.

“C'mon man,” Clint said. “Knock it off.”

“I just wanna show you off a little, pretty boy. Don't you wanna be good for daddy?” Clint shivered, biting his lip. “Nobody here minds. Isn't that right, Rollins?”

Yang and Travers were divvying up the pizza, but Rollins was looking at where Rumlow was palming Clint through his pants, taking a long drink from his beer. “Far from it.”

“It feels good, doesn't it?”

“I guess,” Clint said, still hesitant.

“Good boy. Just let me make you feel good.”

And Clint let him, even when the other guys were back. They didn't comment on it, not until the pizza was gone, then Yang spoke up.

“You giving us a free show, Rumlow?”

“It'll be audience participation.”

Rollins laughed. “That's the best kind of show.”

Clint tensed. His rational mind was contemplating just getting up and walking out. He was hard at Rumlow's touch but that wasn't enough to make this sound like a good idea. It would mean the last of Rumlow's interest in him, though, if he walked out now.

Rumlow could sense his hesitation. “You'll enjoy yourself, baby, I promise. Travers especially is good with his mouth. Right, Travers?”

“Fuck you, Rumlow.”

“Why don't you show Barton what I'm talking about.” There was a hard edge to Rumlow's voice, not like when he was talking to Clint. Travers walked over and got on his knees in front of Clint, unzipping him and pulling his cock out. He swallowed Clint whole.

Clint moaned at the heat of it, the wet suction. He felt surrounded by Rumlow even as Travers was sucking him off, Rumlow's arm around him and his other hand on Clint's thigh. Rumlow's mouth was on his neck, working its way up to his chin. He could feel Rumlow's hard cock against his ass.

“There you go, pretty boy. Feel good? Look at them enjoying you, their eyes on you.”

Yang was leaning back on the couch and Rollins was unashamedly jerking off. Clint could just imagine the picture he presented, flushed and panting as Travers' mouth worked his cock after Rumlow had kept him hard for half an hour first.

“Okay, get up,” Rumlow finally told Travers. He complied straight away, wiping his face on his sleeve. “You too, Barton. Turn around, come here.”

Rumlow pulled him down by the neck, kissing him softly on the mouth. Clint moaned into the kiss, not even caring that Travers pulled his jeans and underwear down, that he was bent down, braced on the armrests of the chair and exposed to everybody. He kissed Rumlow back desperately. They'd not kissed at all the last time and he wanted it bad.

Rumlow pulled away, only a few inches. “Travers will get you prepped. Then he'll fuck you. He did something nice for you, so he gets something nice in return, right? Will you be a good boy?”

“Yes, daddy,” Clint said, and Rumlow's eyes sparked with pleasure. He claimed Clint's mouth again while Travers' fingers pushed in, slick with lube. Clint gripped the arms of the chair tighter, wishing he could touch Rumlow. Rumlow's fingers were in his hair, his tongue exploring Clint's mouth unhurriedly even as Travers worked him open.

“Barton good and wet?” Rumlow asked.

“Yeah,” came the answer.

“Good. Let Rollins go first, he's not gonna last otherwise.” Rumlow grinned at him. “You wanna get fucked, baby?”

Clint only really wanted to get fucked by Rumlow, but it was just as good having Rumlow kiss him like he meant it. Clint nodded. “Yeah. Condoms.”

“You heard him, boys.”

Rollins grumbled in a way that made Clint suspect he would've gone without if not for Clint's interception. There was the reassuring sound of a wrapper opening, and then Rollins was pushing in, his grip tight on Clint's hips.

“Fuck, yeah, oh fuck.”

Rumlow winked at Clint. “Rollins gets monosyllabic at times like these. You all good? Feel good having something big inside you?”

And it did feel good, especially when Rumlow kissed down his throat, sucking a hickey on his collarbone. Rollins was fucking him at a fast pace, and it was no surprise when he grunted and came not long after. Clint wasn't sure who went next, he only knew there was a cock pressing in, hands on Clint's shoulders pulling him back on it. Rumlow murmured encouragement against his throat, making Clint melt into it as he was fucked. There were the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin and Rumlow calling him a good boy, and Clint was dying for some relief. He couldn't touch himself, he could only moan as his oversensitive hole was used. And then with one final push whoever was fucking him came, pulling out immediately.

“I can't wait,” he heard Yang say. “Want to come all over him.”

“Just not inside. Right, Barton?”

“Yeah,” Clint gasped.

Rumlow laughed. “Oh, he's gone.”

Yang laughed too, breathless and then Clint could feel his come hitting his ass.

“Fuck, yes, make a mess of him,” Rumlow said. He was unlatching his pants, pulling his dick out and scooting forwards in the chair before rolling a condom on. “Come, baby, sit on daddy's lap. C'mon.”

Clint had to bend over to unlace his boots to get his pants kicked off, but then he was lowering himself on Rumlow's cock, moaning as he pressed in. It felt like Rumlow was splitting him open, his cock pushing in deep, and then Rumlow was kissing him and it was just so good. This was what Clint wanted, just like this. He rocked up and down on Rumlow's lap, beyond caring about the sounds he was making or who was watching them.

“Fuck, daddy, let me come?”

“Beg for it, pretty boy,” Rumlow growled.

“Please daddy. I want to come with you inside me.”

“Yeah, you little slut, come for daddy.”

Clint gripped his cock, jerking off. It didn't take long, he'd been on edge for a while, he was coming, only then realising it was all over Rumlow's shirt. Rumlow didn't seem to care, though, gripping Clint's waist and rocking into him in increasingly hard thrusts until he too was coming, pushing inside Clint and pulling him down onto his cock.

With shaking legs Clint got up. Travers steadied him, handing him a beer. “All good?” He asked. Clint felt himself blushing, quickly coming down from the high and feeling bare in front of them. He gathered up his jeans and headed for the bathroom. “Be right back.”

Once he had put himself together, Clint headed back out to the kitchens. There were only Rumlow and Rollins, and the latter was gathering his things. “Hate to fuck and run,” he said with a smirk. “But you two probably want to be alone for some sweet nothings, anyway.”

Rumlow laughed. “Just fuck off. Try not to think about Barton when you jerk it tonight.”

Rollins exited with a middle finger. Rumlow came over to Clint and hooked an arm around his shoulders. “You did good, baby. Let's go, I'll walk you to the subway.”

**

When Phil Coulson asked Clint out, it came out of nowhere.

“You want to have dinner. With me?”

“I would like that, yes.” Coulson's smile was soft and Clint felt incredibly flustered in the face of it.

“Yeah, okay. Wednesday?”

“That's good for me.”

They went on a dinner date. Coulson picked him up at home with violets and drove them to a Manhattan restaurant way fancier than Clint had ever been inside. He was underdressed, in slacks and his nicest button-up. Coulson had a suit on, but he always did. Clint didn't even own a suit. What could Coulson possibly see in him?

Coulson asked to be called Phil. He talked about his family, where he was from, and didn't mind when Clint didn't do the same. He knew anyway, Clint was sure his file had everything about his brother, and that was that about his family.

Phil didn't flirt much but he gave Clint's hand these little touches over the table. It was all pretty romantic, with the lighting in the restaurant. It was so different from what he'd been doing with Rumlow. They'd been hooking up for a couple of months now, in bar toilets or at the barracks. In contrast, Phil said he wanted to take it slow, get to know each other. Date.

“Do you mean just each other?” Clint asked when Phil was walking him up to his door.

“Of course, exclusively. Unless... unless you don't want to.” Phil looked so uncertain all of a sudden, Clint couldn't stand it. Phil was such a good man, he shouldn't feel insecure about himself.

“I do! I just wanted to make sure that's what you wanted.”

Phil smiled, then leaned in to give Clint a soft kiss. “Good. See you tomorrow at work.”

**

“Hey, Rumlow. You got a minute?” They were getting rid of their gear, the others had cleared out of the locker room already.

“I've got a debrief in fifteen,” Rumlow said. “You wanna grab a drink tomorrow?”

“That's sort of what I wanted to talk about. I can't do that anymore, I've started seeing someone.”

The grin was wiped off Rumlow's face. “Thought you were seeing me.”

“Yeah, but look. You and I, it's not like we've been romantic.”

“Okay, who is it then?”

“Coulson. Phil.”

“You really think that's gonna last? You with a suit? Gimme a break.” Rumlow laughed. “And what, he's romantic, then? Gives you flowers and shit?”

Clint flushed. “So what if he does?”

Rumlow crowded him into a wall. “And what about when he finds out just what you are? That you'll bend over for any cock that you can get in you? That half of Alpha team has had that ass?”

“Shut up.” Clint pushed Rumlow away. “I just wanted to let you know. You don't gotta be such a dick about it.”

“You're not gonna cry, are you?”

“Fuck off.” Clint walked away and Rumlow let him go.

**

Phil was as good as his word. They went to another restaurant, then to the movies, then to a shooting range, then again a fancy restaurant. He didn't initiate anything physical beyond a chaste kiss, not until they'd been dating for a couple of months.

Phil had Clint over to his place and cooked dinner for him, lasagne with some green stuff that Clint didn't ask about and a no doubt expensive bottle of wine which was completely wasted on him. They were sitting on the couch afterwards in a companionable silence when Phil pulled closer and kissed him, one hand on Clint's thigh and the other on his waist. Clint responded eagerly. He didn't mind taking things slow, it was different from anything he'd ever done before, but he was beyond ready to take things to the next level and he wanted to get that across. It was either working or Phil had decided on the same, but Phil's hands sneaked their way under Clint's shirt, pulling it up and off.

“Is this alright?” Phil asked.

“More than,” Clint said, his hands working Phil out of his shirt. Phil didn't wear his suit jacket at home, but he was still dressed smart.

Phil stroked his hands over Clint's chest and down his arms. “You're beautiful.”

“Phil, let me--” Phil shrugged off his shirt and Clint put his hands on him. Phil looked so good.

“Could we take this to the bedroom? I'd like to make love to you, Clint.”

“Please,” Clint said.

Phil picked up his shirt on the way and Clint followed suit. They undressed each other and Phil was so gentle with every touch, looking at Clint like he was something precious. They were both hard and Clint's hands itched to touch but he simply moved to the bed.

“How do you want me?” Clint asked.

Phil pulled off the bedspread. “On your back. I want to look at you.”

Clint complied and Phil dug into a bedside drawer. He knelt on the bed and handed Clint a condom. “Would you like to put it on me?”

“Definitely,” Clint said. He opened the foil and rolled the condom on Phil's cock, relishing the hardness under his fingers. He wrapped his hand around Phil and gave him an experimental stroke, his breath catching at Phil's heated expression.

Phil came over to kneel between his spread legs and kissed him gently. It was only when he noticed the blunt pressure at his hole that Clint's mind kicked into gear.

“Um, Phil, you got lube or something?”

Phil shook his head. “I don't like mess.”

Clint froze, but there was no time to think, Phil was pushing in, pulling a startled whimper out of Clint. Fuck, it hurt, a burning pain inside him and spreading out, splitting him open. Clint panted, not sure if he should tell Phil to stop. He wanted to, but he didn't want Phil to change his mind.

Phil bottomed out, then started to pull out and Clint bit his lip, unwilling to make noise. The burn was worse and he gripped the sheets below him. Phil began to thrust and Clint could feel tears forming in his eyes. He didn't want to cry, but it wasn't just the pain, it was the shock of the situation. All his associations with Phil were softness and gentleness. Phil was always so good to him.

When Phil kissed him, Clint kissed him back, relieved at something to focus on besides the sharp pain that came every time Phil thrust in. Phil didn't seem to make note of the tears that were now streaming down Clint's cheeks. Which made sense, he supposed. If Phil always fucked guys without lube, this must not have been the first time someone cried in his bed.

Clint found himself just hoping it would be over soon. He'd been so enthusiastic to have sex with Phil and now he couldn't wait for it to be over, for Phil to be there again – the Phil Clint knew.

Finally Phil groaned, rocking faster against Clint before coming, kissing Clint desperately. Clint winced when Phil pulled out, feeling the sharp sting of it.

“That was lovely,” Phil said, kissing Clint on the cheek tenderly. Clint wished he could say the same.

**

Clint got used to it, somewhat. He gave a lot of blowjobs, as many as he could get away with, but when Phil asked to make love to him, he let him. He no longer cried, not since the first time. He got used to sometimes seeing blood on the sheets. He supposed that didn't count as mess.

He loved Phil. Phil was good to him. This was just a thing that he liked. It was fine.

He tried to talk about it exactly once. Phil was quick to shut him down, more crudely than Clint had heard him before.

“If I wanted a sloppy whore, I would go out and purchase one.”

After that Clint hadn't brought it up.

**

It was after an op at the armoury. There were five people present – Clint, Rumlow, Rollins, Yang and Travers. And there was a muzzle of a gun pressing to Clint's temple.

“On your knees.”

Normally when Clint was held at gunpoint, he was pretty confident of his chances at disarming the other person. Normally the other person wasn't a STRIKE team lead. Normally the other person wasn't someone he'd been half in love with.

Clint got on his knees.

“Travers.”

“Rumlow, c'mon.”

There was a weighted silence and then Travers got down behind Clint and pulled down Clint's pants. “Sorry man,” he murmured and then there were lubed fingers pushing inside him. Clint felt like he was going to vomit. He could see Rollins getting his cock out and starting to stroke it as Travers continued opening him up.

“You can go first this time,” Rumlow said. “Hands and knees, Barton.”

Travers pulled his fingers out, his cock replacing them. There was no condom, just blunt pressure at his hole.

“Try to relax,” Travers said, which made Clint even more tense.

“Just fuck him already,” Rollins said from above them. Clint didn't want to look, even though he hated how cowed it must have made him seem.

Travers pushed in through the resistance of Clint's body. He set a fast pace, thrusting in and out. Clint braced on his arms as he was showed forwards which each thrust.

It felt like an eternity of being forced to take it, of the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, before Travers came and pulled out of Clint. And then straight away Yang was pushing in, again without a condom.

Clint felt numb. So what if he got fucked, it wasn't anything that hadn't happened before. He just wanted it to be over.

When Yang was done, Rollins was worse. He kept grunting and moaning and Clint couldn't make himself not think of it, he was aware all the time of Rollins' clear enjoyment of Clint... being raped. Because that's what it was, not getting fucked but getting raped. In a fucking SHIELD armoury with his ex holding a gun to his head.

Rollins didn't last long, at least, before he was coming.

“Fuck yeah, that ass, oh fuck.”

Rollins pulled out. Clint was expecting Rumlow next but instead there was a kick to his ribs that made him lose his balance and fall onto his side.

“Be thankful I don't just shoot you, slut. All you're good for.” Rumlow put the gun away and kicked Clint in the stomach before heading out. “C'mon.”

The other guys filed out after him.

Clint got up, feeling shaky and numb, pulling his pants up. He could feel the come and lube running down his thighs and he felt like vomiting but nothing was coming up. He felt his eyes burn, but like hell was he going to give Rumlow the satisfaction of crying. He wanted nothing more than to shower, but even the thought of getting undressed in the communal showers had him shuddering.

No, home.

Lucky met him at the door, eager and enthusiastic about Clint being home, and that's when the tears came. Clint couldn't help it. Rumlow hadn't even touched him, and yet that was the worst of it, that Rumlow would hold him at gunpoint to be raped. They hadn't parted at the best terms and Rumlow had acted chilly when they'd been working together afterwards. And he was well aware that Rumlow had never loved him, but he'd had this stupid idea that Rumlow cared about him. Clearly not.

Somehow Clint made it to the shower, shedding his clothes on the bathroom floor. They were SHIELD-issue but Clint was going to have to burn them. He scrubbed himself raw and then sat on the bathroom floor until the water ran cold.

He walked Lucky and then took him to Kate's. Phil was expecting him.

Phil. How in the hell was he going to tell Phil about it? But he couldn't exactly keep it from him. The worst was, Phil was SHIELD. He didn't want Phil to know, but he definitely didn't want anybody else to know and he didn't want Phil going after Rumlow. Rumlow would know that he'd told Phil. He couldn't even handle the thought.

“You're early,” Phil said when he opened the door. Clint hadn't even realised, but it was true. Clint had just walked out from work. He hadn't checked his phone and didn't care enough to do that now either.

Phil gave him a kiss, which Clint wanted to shy away from. He felt soiled, like he was getting Phil dirty and Phil didn't even know it. He had to tell him, he had no other choice.

“Here, these are for you,” Phil said. He was holding a dozen purple roses, which Clint accepted.

“Thank you.”

“I just saw them and I couldn't not get them. Here, let me get you a vase for them.” Clint deposited the flowers into the vase and followed Phil into the kitchen. Phil was still talking, and Clint tried not to get lost in his head. “I'm afraid I don't have dinner ready just yet, I wasn't expecting you until eight. Are you hungry? I can start making it now.”

Clint really wasn't. He shook his head. “Phil, I need to talk to you about something.”

Phil sat across from Clint at the kitchen table, looking concerned. “Alright. What is it?”

“You have to promise not to do anything about it.”

“Do anything about what?”

“Will you promise?”

“Alright, I promise.”

Clint balled his hands into fists, then blurted out, “I got raped.”

“You... when? By whom?”

Clint felt chilled all over. He rubbed his arms. At least Phil knew now. He wouldn't have to say it again. “Earlier today. Some guys from Alpha.”

“Guys. Plural.”

“Yeah.”

“Names, Clint.”

“Does it matter? You promised you wouldn't do anything.”

“I hardly knew what I was promising,” Phil said. It was clear he was upset.

“Please, Phil.”

“Where was this?”

“At the armoury.”

“How did they do it?” Phil asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean how. You're a capable agent. You don't show any signs of struggle. Neither do you seem to be coming off any drug.”

“I...” Clint could feel himself getting defensive. Phil's questions felt almost like an interrogation. The last thing he wanted was to keep talking about it. “One of them held a gun to my head.”

“Someone from STRIKE team Alpha held a gun to your head.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you really think he would shoot you?” Phil asked.

“What?”

“Did you actually think he would shoot you? If you had fought them.”

“I don't... I don't know.” It seemed like such an extreme thing to threaten, but Rumlow didn't tend to make idle threats. Clint had watched him shoot people before, with relish. Clint had shot people too, of course, but he never got such a kick out of it.

“I see.”

Clint felt uncomfortable in the silence that descended. Phil seemed disappointed, but Clint wasn't sure what to say to make it better. No, he was pretty sure there wasn't anything he could say that would do that.

Phil didn't say a word to Clint all through dinner. Only afterwards did he speak.

“I think you should go back to your own place tonight.”

“Are you mad at me?” Clint couldn't help but ask.

“I just need some time.”

“Okay.”

Clint shrugged on his jacket and left without a goodbye.

**

The next three weeks were some of the hardest in Clint's life. He'd had some shitty times as a kid, too, but now his mind wouldn't stop going over what had happened in the armoury. And it didn't help that, beyond professional obligation, Phil wasn't speaking to him. There were no more evenings spent together, no more gentle kisses, no more light conversation during dinner.

Now it was just Clint, alone in his apartment and wondering whether or not they were broken up and he should try to move on. Not that he felt the least bit inclined to get to know somebody new, somebody who would expect sex from him. He didn't think he would've minded having sex with Phil, no more than usual anyway, because Phil was someone he trusted. But with a stranger – no.

There was also the problem of future ops with Rumlow's team. He didn't want to see any of those guys. Running into them was inevitable, but he really didn't want to be stuck on a mission with them. What was worse, he'd realised there was no guarantee that what had happened wouldn't happen again. He needed something to make Rumlow back off, but he was coming up empty.

What he needed was not to have to work with them again. For that, he would normally go to Coulson, but that wasn't an option. He only had one choice.

**

In the end it was easier that Clint had thought.

“Agent Barton. What can I do for you?” Fury asked.

“I would like to no longer be assigned missions with STRIKE team Alpha, sir.”

“And why is that?”

“Can I trust that this won't leave these walls?”

“Very well. You can trust my discretion.”

And here it was. “I was raped by some of the members.”

There was a short pause, the only sign of Fury's calm being disrupted. Then he spoke up. “It seems our yearly evaluations are up. You have done some exceptional work with STRIKE Alpha, however STRIKE Delta demands your skill set and therefore you will be exclusively paired with Agent Romanov in the future. I shall inform Agents Hill, Sitwell and Coulson. Will this be acceptable?”

The relief hit him and he felt his knees go weak. “Yeah, that will be fine.”

“Excellent,” Fury said. “Now, one more thing. Let me assure you I will not make any waves, but between us, I would like the names.”

“Travers, Rollins, Yang. And Rumlow. Sir.”

“Thank you, Agent. You are dismissed.”

**

Clint hadn't thought he could tell anybody else, after Phil.

But there was something about Fury's reaction that occupied his thoughts. Fury had been completely professional and telling him had resulted in him being removed from Alpha. But there was something else. It wasn't said out loud, but Fury had been immediately on his side.

Unlike Phil. Phil had demanded details and given him the silent treatment, going on three weeks now. And somehow only when in contrast with Fury was Clint thinking about it.

He wasn't sure how he thought Phil should've reacted, but he was pretty sure this wasn't it.

And then there was Nat. She could tell there was something going on with him, but she hadn't pushed when Clint had said he couldn't talk about it. Nat was like that – she'd do almost anything to figure out a mystery, but she wouldn't pressure him to talk about it.

Thing was, he was starting to feel like he wanted to tell her. He hadn't been able to imagine getting the words out. But he'd been able to do it with Fury, even though he hadn't wanted to. And she was the one person he trusted with this. His past was an open book to her, and Clint was sure she'd shared more about her past with him than with anybody else.

“Fuck,” she said when he finally did get the words out. “Do you want me to kill them?”

Clint laughed through the tears. “Nah. But thanks.”

“Any time.”

**

Phil took two more weeks show signs of life. Clint had missed Phil, but he couldn't say Phil's treatment hadn't hurt. Phil showed up on his doorstep with some flowers Clint didn't recognise.

“I'm sorry,” Phil said. “I find it difficult to think about you with those other men. But I love you and that's more important.”

“Okay,” Clint said, but it wasn't really. Phil was saying sorry. Clint wasn't sure why that wasn't enough, but he wasn't okay. He wondered if maybe Nat could tell him what was wrong with his feelings, if he told her about Phil's reaction. He had glossed over it previously, somehow sensing that it wouldn't go over well with her.

He let Phil pull him into an embrace and it felt good to lean into it. Phil kissed him, gentle and sweet. “Would you come and have dinner with me?”

“Sure.” Clint shrugged on his jacket and followed Phil to his car. Lucky was at Kate's tonight so there was nothing stopping him.

By this point Clint had gotten somewhat used to the kinds of restaurants Phil liked, and didn't usually feel so self conscious about his clothes, but he was wearing jeans and a ratty hoodie under his leather jacket, which was a level of casual the place had probably never seen before.

Whatever. If he could deal with being there, they could deal with having him there.

The conversation flowed easily once they were seated. Clint had missed talking to Phil, it was always easy. Phil didn't think his anecdotes were stupid or cringe at his jokes. And Phil was always attentive and caring towards him. It was the same this time, it was almost like the time apart hadn't even happened.

Afterwards they went over to Phil's, which was what they almost always did. Only a few times had they ever spent time at Clint's, which made sense. Clint had a smaller space and the living room was occupied by nothing but his TV and couches where he liked to eat and read and hang out with Lucky. It was all kind of shabby compared to Phil's place.

“Would you like a drink?” Phil asked. Clint shook his head. The hesitation he'd nearly forgot about during dinner was back full force, and Phil seemed like a stranger. They moved over to the couch and kissing Phil was nice but Clint knew where that would lead. And if there was something Clint hadn't missed, it was sex with Phil. No doubt he wasn't in the best headspace for sex right now anyway, but he didn't even mean because of the sex that had been forced on him. Phil was rough in bed, and not in a good way. Callous. There was no way Phil couldn't tell that Clint didn't enjoy himself, he just didn't care.

There wasn't anything he could do about it, though. What was he going to do, walk out? Not to even mention the fact that Phil was his ride, but also he still wanted to be with Phil. He wanted the relationship they'd had.

So he went with it when Phil invited him to the bedroom and stripped him slowly. And he went to his hands and knees, only happy to not be facing Phil when he pushed inside, not having to seem as though he wasn't in pain. And it was painful, like he was being torn open.

He would just have to get used to it again.

**

A little over a year into his relationship with Phil, there was Loki. There was Clint's mind being taken away from him. There was Phil dead.

He couldn't believe it. Phil was so steady, so alive, he couldn't be gone. Just like that, stabbed through the chest.

There was battle to go to and therefore no time to process. Nat came with him after it was done, not saying a word, just taking Lucky on a walk and then climbing in bed with him. He laid down with his head on her shoulder and couldn't stop trembling.

There was no precedent for what Loki had done to him and they knew next to nothing about the sceptre used. There was no way to guarantee that his mind was his own and would stay that way. And Loki wasn't gone, simply locked in the Stark Tower.

They went to the Central Park the next day and seeing Loki vanish was a relief.

Clint was benched. He would have to go through a psych eval and take at least three months off work. It was the worst time for it. He couldn't sleep and he was jumping at shadows.

Phil's death didn't really sink in until his funeral. Clint couldn't stop the tears even in front of all the SHIELD agents present. Nat was with him and that was probably why nobody said anything.

After the service they were approached by an awkward Tony Stark, who extended another invite to live in his tower. And something clicked in Clint's head.

“Yes.”

“What?” Stark said.

“Yes, I'll come to live with you.”

“Count me in,” Nat added.

“Two for one assassins deal, cool,” Stark said. “Well, your floors are waiting. Swing by and I'll give you the tour.”

**

Settling in the newly named Avengers Tower went better than Clint had expected. Agreeing to live there had been on a whim, but he didn't regret it, even though taking Lucky out was a production every time. Thankfully the tower was right on the edge of the Central Park so there was plenty of terrain to cover.

And there was company. After Loki, after Phil, Clint hated being alone. Nat had been there, almost a constant presence, but he didn't want to burden her. When he expressed that, though, Nat called him an idiot in Russian and kicked him in the shins. Still, she had missions and couldn't be around all the time.

The common room saw a lot of use. There was almost always someone around, and even if there wasn't, it didn't feel as isolated as Clint's own space. He could fall asleep on the couch and wake up not from nightmares but from Tony working the coffee machine at five in the morning or Steve settling in for breakfast after his morning run. There were Bruce and Nat who were less noisy but more inclined to stick around when they came by.

**

After Phil died, Clint didn't feel attraction towards anybody until Bucky Barnes.

Steve and Nat dumped the SHIELD files and sank the helicarriers and sent a lot of rats scurrying for dry land. Clint wasn't exactly surprised that Rumlow turned out to be HYDRA. Steve's new friend Sam, not knowing their history, casually mentioned that a building fell on him. Clint didn't know what to feel. Relief, mostly, that he would never have to see that face again. Something sharp in his chest, an old place where he'd once had feelings for Rumlow. Disappointment that the news didn't make him happier.

Steve's new friend Sam came around a few times with Steve, but they never stayed long, searching for Steve's old friend. It took them six months to catch up and bring him in.

Nat hid it well, but she was wary. Tony talked his ear off. Bruce kept his distance. And Clint – Clint was having a religious experience.

He would've thought living with superheroes had made him immune to good looks, but apparently not so much. Bucky was six foot and stacked, with piercing blue eyes and a smile that laid Clint out the first time he saw it.

Thing was, Clint wasn't subtle. So it shouldn't have come as a surprise when Bucky pinned him into a hallway wall one night when everybody was in bed. Bucky's mouth was inches from his and his hands were gripping Clint's waist.

“You wanna do this?” Bucky asked, his rough voice going straight to Clint's groin.

“Yes, yeah,” Clint said and then Bucky was unzipping him. Clint ran his hands along Bucky's arms and down his back, feeling up the hard muscle. His hands ended up resting on Bucky's hips while Bucky's metal fingers gently stroked Clint's rapidly hardening cock. “Fuck.”

“You're gorgeous, sweetheart,” Bucky said. “How do you feel about-- kissing?”

“Pro kissing all the way.” Clint had barely finished speaking when Bucky's lips were on his, Bucky's tongue tracing the seam of his lips. Clint let him in, stroking his tongue against Bucky's, a needy sound escaping him. He sank his fingers in Bucky's hair, kissing him hungrily. Bucky's fingers were wrapped around his cock, moving in steady strokes, and it had been so long since Clint had felt this good.

It was over embarrassingly quickly, but he couldn't help it, he was keening into the kisses, his legs barely holding him up as he came on Bucky's fingers, spilling on his shirt.

“Fuck, let me--” Clint said. “I wanna blow you.”

This time it was Bucky against the wall and Clint went down to his knees, pulling down Bucky's sweatpants. He wore nothing underneath, his cock jutting proudly out of black curls. Bucky was heavy in his hand, his girth stretching Clint's mouth wide open. Bucky's cock was easily the largest Clint had ever had and he couldn't stop wondering what it would feel like inside him. He sucked down as much as he could, wrapping his fingers around the rest, bopping up and down, pressing lower every time he took Bucky in, taking him deeper in his throat with each swallow.

Bucky's hands were behind his head, following his movements, his hips thrusting shallowly and Clint wanted more. He pulled off Bucky's cock.

“You can fuck my face. I want you to.” He swallowed Bucky's cock back down, moaning as Bucky thrust in, hesitantly at first but then with more force.

“Fuck, darling, you're doing so well, baby, you're so good to me,” Bucky said. He was breathing hard, the metal hand guiding Clint onto his cock, the other tracing Clint's jawline. “So perfect for me.”

Clint shivered, the praise hitting him in the best places. He was drooling on Bucky's cock and on his chin, gasping for breath every time Bucky pulled out. His fingers gripped Bucky's ass, urging him on.

“I'm gonna come, baby. You want it?”

Clint moaned and Bucky thrust in, holding Clint's head in place as he came deep in his throat, pulling out, bitter and salty on his tongue.

Bucky pulled him up and kissed him, licking the taste from his mouth, so fucking hot Clint was almost tempted to another round. But he just kissed Bucky back until finally they parted for breath.

What did you say to an ex-HYDRA assassin after getting off with them in a darkened hallway? Thanks for the orgasm, see you around? Let's do this again sometime?

“Dog Cops?”

The corner of Bucky's mouth tilted upwards, his most common smile. Not the full one Clint was obsessed with, but he'd take it. “Dog Cops.”

**

Another night he was hanging out in the common room with Lucky curled up next to him when Bucky stalked up to him and dropped to his knees.

“Can I?” Bucky gestured at Clint's crotch.

Clint nodded and Bucky unzipped him and pulled down his underwear. He licked a stripe down Clint's still soft cock and then took it in his mouth, suckling gently. Clint moaned as his cock hardened in the wet heat of Bucky's mouth.

Bucky pulled off when Clint was fully hard. “I'd like your hands in my hair, but I like it gentler than you do, no thrusting please.”

“Okay,” Clint said, twining his fingers in Bucky's hair. Bucky went back to it, taking Clint in fully in his throat, apparently no gag reflex. The wet suction was incredible and Clint relaxed into it. He didn't even realise he was going to come until his orgasm was upon him, the pleasure building steadily and then sending him over the edge, spilling down Bucky's throat.

He noted he was still playing with Bucky's hair and let go. Bucky pulled off and gently eased Clint back into his boxers.

“Do you want to take this to one of our rooms? Maybe lock the dog out.” Clint asked. “I've got supplies.”

“And you lack a roommate with super soldier hearing. Sounds perfect.”

“Lucky, come.”

They stopped to make out waiting for the elevator and stumbled in. Bucky was a fantastic kisser and Clint couldn't get enough of the taste of his mouth.

Clint led the way to the bedroom. “Take your clothes off. I wanna see you.”

“You too,” Bucky said, pulling his shirt off. Clint was briefly distracted by all the muscle but then complied with Bucky's request, stripping off his clothes and letting them fall into a pile on the floor.

Bucky was hard and Clint couldn't help but touch, getting his hands on Bucky's cock, making him groan.

“Clint, baby, that feels good.”

“Wanna be inside me?”

Bucky growled. “Like you wouldn't believe.”

Clint settled on his stomach in the hopes of getting ploughed through the mattress. He gestured at his bedside drawer. “Just use lots of lube and a condom and we're golden.”

Bucky hopped to it, endearingly eager, coating his fingers in lube, the metal hand gripping Clint's ass while the other one searched out Clint's hole. Bucky played with his rim, making Clint squirm, before prodding him open and pushing in two slick fingers in one go. Clint could feel himself opening up as Bucky moved them in and out and he spread his legs wider.

“You look so good, doll, so sweet for me. You want another one? Yeah?”

“Yeah, just--” Clint moaned as another finger breached his entrance. He could hear Bucky breathing hard, clearly turned on by fucking Clint with his fingers. He twisted them inside him, brushing on his prostate and making him see stars. “Fuck, gimme more.”

Bucky was four fingers in and Clint was keening, humping his cock against the mattress. “Need you in me--”

“Hush, baby, I know what you need.” Bucky pulled out and Clint could hear the condom opening and then Bucky was on top of him, guiding his cock to his hole and pushing in. It was a stretch even with all the prep but it felt so fucking good when Bucky bottomed out, his cock deep inside Clint. Bucky started rocking his hips in shallow thrusts, his weight hot and heavy and pinning Clint down to the bed. Clint couldn't remember ever having sex like this. Rough in a good way while at the same time intimate, Bucky panting into Clint's neck, kissing the skin under his mouth, his hands possessive on Clint's shoulders, on his biceps and his wrists, locking them in place. Bucky's cock was a smooth glide inside him, thick and unyielding, moving in steady thrusts, rubbing on his prostate, making Clint feel like he was losing his mind.

“Sweetheart, you're taking me so well,” Bucky told him and shivers went down Clint's spine. He made an incoherent noise of pleasure and Bucky's hands smoothed down his arms. “You're good, baby, such a good boy for me.”

“Tell me that again,” Clint managed to get out and Bucky did, murmured endearments and praise in Clint's ear until he was shaking apart, coming into the sheets with Bucky fucking him all the way through.

Clint sank into the mattress, letting himself be taken. Bucky never stopped, not even after Clint had come, calling him good boy and sweet thing and baby doll. He fucked him for a long time, but Clint could tell he was nearing his orgasm when his voice went strained, his thrusts coming more rapidly until his hips were stuttering against Clint's ass.

“Oh fuck, darling,” Bucky gasped, pushing in deep. “You've made me feel so good, I'm gonna come.”

Bucky buried his face in Clint's neck, grinding against his ass, groaning as he came.

Bucky pulled away after a while, but only for long enough to get rid of the condom, and then he was right back, curling around Clint with his metal arm across Clint's back. Clint couldn't say he'd expected post-sex cuddles, but then again he hadn't expected the sex to be fucking mind blowing either. They'd hooked up twice now, but Bucky was a bit of an enigma to Clint, most often quiet when around people except clearly not while in bed.

Clint felt a little bit embarrassed for having asked for praise, but he couldn't help how warm it made him feel that Bucky had been so indulgent of the request.

“So was that your first time doing that since the forties?” Clint asked. “Because you're definitely not rusty in the slightest.”

Bucky chuckled. “Had a few one night stands while on the run. They weren't like you though.”

“Nobody is,” Clint said.

Bucky kissed him gently. “Nobody's as sweet as you, doll.”

Clint could feel himself blushing. It was one thing to hear that kind of thing in the middle of sex, it was wholly another in the quiet intimacy of afterwards. He turned onto his side, facing Bucky and kissed him back, a slow exploration of mouths, soft now that the urgency had faded.

“Do you want to spend the night?” Clint asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. I don't know how much I'll sleep but if you don't mind, I could use the company.”

“We're in the same boat then.”

**

Bucky looked subdued, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Clint said. “You okay?”

Bucky shrugged. “Do you wanna come up on the roof with me?”

“Yeah, of course.”

They sat on the edge of the roof, feet hanging in the air. The view was great, same as it was inside really but it felt more real outdoors. Clint wasn't focusing on the view, though. Bucky seemed so down, he wanted to ask but didn't quite know if he should. They didn't know each other all that well yet. Then again, Bucky had asked him to come with. And he seemed like the kind of person perfectly capable of telling you to fuck off if he didn't want to talk about it.

“Bad night?”

“You could say that.”

“Nightmares?”

“Nah. Haven't actually tried sleeping. Just. Can't stop thinking about killing myself.”

“Whoa. Shit. Are you...”

“I'm not actually planning it. I don't think so anyway. My therapist calls them intrusive thoughts.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Anything triggering it?”

“Do you know that I remember everything from HYDRA?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Remember plenty about before HYDRA, too. Thankfully. I don't think I'd ever get out of bed if that was everything.”

That sounded like a nightmare. “To be honest, you seem incredibly functional for what you've been through. I'm doing worse than you and all I had was three days of brainwashing.”

“I doubt you're actually doing worse than me. I heard about your stint. Loki, right? Made to attack your own side?”

“Yeah. I tried to kill Nat.”

“Trying to kill your best friend, we could start a club.”

“That's one depressing ass club.”

“You're not kidding. I'm not sure the brainwashing is even the worst part. That's just the method, how they made me comply. But being used, so relentlessly and so long, in every way possible. For murder, for research, for stress relief, for entertainment.”

“You know, if you wanna talk about it... I'm here. Don't know that I can do anything but I'll listen.”

Bucky bumped his shoulder against Clint's in thanks. It was a while before he spoke. “I guess you might as well know since we're sleeping together, I have some issues there. Tried to have somebody fuck me once while I was living in Bucharest, that didn't go so well. Thankfully I didn't hurt him or anything, I just froze up. They used to take turns with the Winter Soldier – with me. That's why I don't like it rough with oral either.”

Jesus. “Yeah, I can understand that. I mean – I haven't had anything comparable happen to me, but I was raped once.” Clint's heart beat faster just trying to talk about it, but if he could offer some kind of comfort to Bucky, it would be worth it. “By Rumlow and his buddies. I used to date him, at one point. I guess he didn't take it well that I called it off. Anyway, the point is, it took me a long time to really feel up to sex after that. It's actually only been with you that I've had pleasant experiences since then.” It felt like a betrayal to Phil to say that out loud, but it was true.

“Rumlow, yeah. I'm sorry that happened to you,” Bucky said. “You gotta let me know if I do something that reminds you or something.”

“Promise, I will. But you're really very different in bed than Rumlow, so I'm not worried.”

“I should hope I am,” Bucky said, his voice dark.

Clint shivered when a wind blew across the roof. He was in a sleeveless shirt, and while it was a relatively warm spring night, it was still not quite enough to be wearing. He didn't complain, but Bucky noticed and within moments had his hoodie stripped off and was handing it to Clint.

“You'll get cold,” Clint said.

“Unless you stick me in cryo, I highly doubt it. Just take it.”

“Thanks, man.”

They sat in silence for a while, then Clint had to ask. “Does Steve know about it – you know, your intrusive thoughts?”

Bucky snorted. “Do you thing he would let me out of his sight for a minute if he did? Nah. Don't worry though, that's what I have that superb therapist for.”

“Do you find it helpful? I only had mandatory, after Loki, but my therapist was SHIELD. I didn't exactly want my actual feelings recorded on my files.”

“She's good. Not touchy feely at all, very professional. I'd recommend it, if you think it would help.”

“Huh, maybe.”

Bucky stood up off the ledge and held out his hand. Clint clasped it to get up but Bucky didn't let go, instead intertwining their fingers. He led their way back inside and down to Clint's floor. “Do you mind?”

“Nah,” Clint said. “Come on in.”

It was different, getting ready for bed together without it being about sex. Clint had a hard time with it, too, when Bucky got naked and burrowed under the covers, but he wrenched his mind out of the gutter. Bucky was having a shitty night, the last thing he needed was for Clint to make a move on him.

Clint joined Bucky in the bed, wondering if seeking contact would be too much. Bucky didn't seem to share his hesitation. He nudged Clint onto his side and curled around him, his broad chest against Clint's back, his metal arm a heavy weight on top of him. Bucky ran hot so Clint kicked the covers off of them, spooning up to Bucky.

**

He hadn't been sure he would, but apparently he'd fallen asleep like that, in Bucky's embrace. He woke up like that, as well, with Bucky plastered against him from head to toe. Except unlike the previous night, there was the heavy heat of Bucky's erection pressed against his ass and there was a warm mouth trailing a path down his neck.

“Somebody's awake,” Clint said. Bucky laughed, a quiet rumble against Clint's back.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Bucky mouthed his neck, biting down on the skin and sucking on it until Clint was sure it was bruising.

“You marking me up?”

“Do you mind if I do?”

“Nat will give me endless shit for it. Might be worth it though.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, latching onto Clint's neck, an inch above the previous mark.

“Yeah, go right ahead.”

“Love to see my marks on your skin, baby.” Bucky licked down his neck to his shoulder, biting down. “Good boy.”

Clint moaned and Bucky ran his big hands down Clint's sides onto his hips, grinding into him.

“Let me make you feel good,” Bucky said. He shimmied down, trailing kisses down Clint's spine and pushing Clint onto his stomach. Bucky's fingers spread his ass open and then his mouth was on Clint, licking over his entrance, hot and wet, over and over. “Just relax, baby, that's good.”

Clint went boneless under him and Bucky kept laving his asshole, his tongue moving softly over the puckered skin, teasing the rim with attention, and then more firmly, licking his way inside. Clint moaned as Bucky's tongue breached him, hot and firm inside him, plunging in again and again. It felt so good.

Finally Bucky moved off, wiping his face and then climbing on top of Clint and giving a kiss to his neck.

“You're so perfect, baby doll, so good for me.” He reached over to the drawer and gathered the supplies. “Turn around for me, on your back, wanna see your pretty face. Spread your legs for me, there you go. Gorgeous.”

Bucky slicked his fingers, rubbing them over Clint's rim and then sliding them in, nice and easy. Clint pushed into the touch, wanting to feel Bucky's touch inside him but Bucky's metal hand stilled his hips.

“Let me give it to you, baby. Can you hold still for me?”

Clint stilled with a whimper, feeling Bucky's fingers slide in and out of his ass. He was panting with the need to move, to demand more with his body, but Bucky had asked him to remain still, and he wanted more than anything to be good for Bucky.

And Bucky did seem pleased, kissing Clint sweet and languid, his tongue sliding against Clint's, stroking his, swallowing Clint's moans when he added a third finger and then a fourth. Clint felt spread open for him, slick and gaping as Bucky's fingers moved in and out of him, stretching him open. Bucky had big hands so four fingers was a lot, but it was necessary for prepping him for Bucky's cock, which was even thicker than that.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“So ready,” Clint gasped. He watched eagerly as Bucky rolled the condom on and slicked himself. “Give it to me.”

Bucky laughed. “Patience.”

“I feel like I've already been patient.”

“You have, darling, don't think I haven't noticed. You've been good.”

It was amazing how so few words could make Clint feel like he was losing his mind. “Please.”

“Yeah, good boy.” Bucky grasped Clint's legs and folded him in half so that his ass came to rest on Bucky's thighs. He lined up and pushed in, one smooth thrust until he was balls deep. The angle was amazing, Bucky's cock dragging across Clint's prostate. Clint couldn't help but yell out, finally getting to feel full of Bucky's thick length inside him.

“There you go, sweet thing, let me hear you. You like it when I fuck you?”

“Yeah, so much. Bucky, please.”

“Perfect, you're taking me so well.”

Bucky fucked into him, in deep, hard thrusts, his grip no doubt leaving fingerprints on Clint's thighs. Clint begged for more, more of Bucky's cock, more of his words to Clint, those words that wound him up and made him shake with desire.

Bucky leaned back and lowered Clint's legs down so that he was between them. He ran his metal fingers along Clint's hard cock, spreading the precome over the glans and on the shaft. He wrapped them around Clint's flesh, giving him a stroke, making him moan.

“Yeah, baby, let me hear you. Wanna see you come for me.”

Clint was rapidly approaching the edge, Bucky's grip on him driving the pleasure upwards, Bucky's thrusts hitting that sweet spot inside him.

“Let me,” Clint said, batting Bucky's hand off and replacing it with his own. “I'll do the touching, want you to hold me down.”

Bucky's breath hitched. He grasped Clint's other wrist and pinned it into the mattress, leaning his weight on it, his left hand coming to grab Clint's shoulder in a bruising grip.

“You can grab me by the throat,” Clint said. “I mean, only if you want to-- sorry--”

“Baby, I do,” Bucky growled. He moved his metal fingers around Clint's throat, leaning his weight on his hand just a little, making Clint gasp for breath. “I do want to. Love to have you underneath me, love how you look, sweetheart, love how good you feel, so tight around my cock. You gonna come for me? With my fingers circling your throat, barely able to breathe, you like it like that, baby?”

“Yeah, oh, fuck.” Clint stroked himself faster, feeling the pleasure build. He gasped for breath, Bucky not quite chocking him but restraining his breathing so that he had to gulp for it, greedily. He yelled out as his orgasm washed over him, making him shoot his load all over his stomach. “Fuck.”

Bucky let go of his throat and ran his fingers through Clint's come, lifting them to Clint's mouth.

“Lick them clean, sweet thing, there you go. Good boy.”

Clint moaned around metal digits, shivering at Bucky's tone.

Bucky grabbed Clint's other wrist and brought them both above his head, trapping them in his right hand. He leaned his weight on Clint, kissing him hungrily, his thrusts becoming harsher. Clint kissed him back, just as hungry for Bucky's taste as he seemed to be for Clint. Bucky moaned into it, his hips stuttering against Clint.

“Fuck, I'm not gonna last.”

“Good,” Clint said. “Wanna have you come buried deep inside me.”

“Baby doll, you're perfect. Feel so good, so sweet for me.”

Clint could feel it when Bucky was close, his thrusts becoming erratic, forceful in a way that reminded Clint that this was a super soldier he was fucking. Bucky's grip on his wrists felt bruising, like just for a moment Bucky wasn't in control of his own strength.

“Fuck, fuck,” Bucky panted into his neck, capturing Clint's lips in a sloppy kiss as he came. Clint moaned with him, feeling high on it, high on Bucky.

Bucky didn't bother to get up, tying up the condom and throwing it towards the bin. He was going to move off Clint, but Clint wrapped his arms and legs around Bucky's torso like a koala, making Bucky laugh and relax into an embrace. They were sweaty as fuck but Clint felt so good, he didn't want to move.

Bucky leaned over him, tracing Clint's face and kissing where he touched, slow and intimate, finally reaching Clint's lips. Clint opened up to him and Bucky licked into his mouth, slow and unhurried and so sweet. Clint brushed Bucky's hair off his face and tangled his fingers into the brown locks, moaning into the kiss.

Finally Bucky pulled back. He was biting his lip, looking nervous.

“Hey, what's up?” Clint asked.

“I was wondering if... if you'd be my fella?”

Clint beamed. “Really?”

“Yeah. You wanna?”

“Hell yeah.”

Bucky smiled, that full smile that made Clint feel like flying, and Clint had to kiss him again.

“You wanna tell the team today?” Clint asked.

“Oh, sweetheart, I want everybody to know I got this lucky.”

“I'm the lucky one.” Bucky snorted and Clint slapped him on the arm. “Hey, no talking smack about my boyfriend.”

“I said nothing,” Bucky said all innocent but laughed when Clint shoved him. It was like shoving at a brick wall but finally Bucky took the hint, rolling off him. “Do you wanna shower together?”

Clint looked Bucky over contemplatively. “Hmm, yeah, eventually. Thought I'd ride you first if you're up for it.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.” Bucky pulled Clint on top of him, straddling him, and he could feel Bucky's interest. Bucky kissed him and Clint lost himself into it. He suspected he'd be happily lost for a very long time.