The jeans are so tight that Steve isn’t sure he can breathe without snapping the button off of them. He already found out that there’s no way he can wear them with his usual underwear. The denim is so tight that it draws attention to the fabric beneath them, and he isn’t usually someone who checks himself out in the mirror but these jeans make him feel uncomfortable enough to do so.
“I can’t wear these jeans, sweetheart. My underwear is all bunched up in the back,” he says, rubbing his hands over his ass. “I feel like I’d bust the denim if I bend over. Are these even the right size or did you give me a pair of your jeans?”
“You’re adorable, babe. Just take your underwear off and go commando. They’re not my jeans. Stop worrying. It’s the style for going out dancing at a club.” Clint is in the bathroom getting ready, so Steve can’t glare at him. He still shoots a look in the direction of the bathroom door, though, to make himself feel better. “We can do something else if you’ve changed your mind. You know I don’t care what we do, so long as we’re spending the time together.”
“I haven’t changed my mind. I just think the outfit you chose for me is on the bad side of indecent.” Steve loves when they have official date night, and it’s his idea to go dancing at a modern club. Clint’s picked up swing dancing so well that he knows he must be amazing in a more familiar style. Besides, it’s been a couple of weeks since they went out on their own and just had fun doing something new.
“There are going to be people wearing even less, so I think jeans and a tight shirt aren’t exactly indecent. Now if I’d given you some leather hotpants, well, you’d have a reason to be freaked out. God, now I’ve got that vision in my head, and it’s making me hard.” Clint turns on the faucet, and Steve can hear him brushing his teeth. After he spits, he says, “Just get naked and try the jeans again. If you still hate them, you can probably wear the black slacks in your closet. Those are pretty tight but maybe not as bad as the jeans.”
“So tight pants are a requirement for going dancing at a club? How can you dance if they’re so tight?” Steve shoves the jeans and his underwear down. Once he’s naked, he decides that he’s going to choose his own outfit for tonight. Clint won’t care, since he’d rather Steve be comfortable than trendy, and he can’t see how a t-shirt and too tight jeans is going to make dancing easy. He grabs a pair of jeans that fit well without the risk of ripping denim any time he breathes, and he gets a white tank top out of the drawer and a nice button up shirt that he decides to leave unbuttoned.
“Are they better?” Clint asks, the sound of the faucet turning on again.
Steve decides to forego underwear even if he knows denim against his bare dick is going to chafe and not be too pleasurable. Since he and Clint will be dancing close, it’s probably a good thing that he’ll have to worry about the denim being abrasive if he gets hard. “I can’t wear those, but I found some that should be okay,’ he says, threading a belt through the loops. There’s a rip around the knee of his jeans and a few other worn spots in the denim, so they aren’t plain old jeans.
“Whatever makes you happy, babe. You could wear a garbage bag and be sexy.” Clint turns off the faucet, and Steve hears more noises in the bathroom. “Do you need the bathroom?”
Steve glances over to answer but he’s speechless as he looks at Clint. Clint’s wearing a pair of jeans that are even tighter than the ones Steve had tried on and a shirt in a deep purple that’s barely buttoned up. There’s nothing beneath the shirt, so it means there’s a lot of bare skin on display. When Clint raises his arm, Steve’s attention is caught on the flash of belly.
“You like?” Clint smirks as he makes a show of turning in a slow circle and wiggling his ass. His worn combat boots add another dimension of sexy, Steve realizes, and he blinks when he looks at Clint’s face.
“You’re wearing eyeliner!” Steve takes a step forward, needing to touch.
“And more product in my hair than like ever,” Clint adds. “We want to fit in, not draw attention. I got a little into it, I guess.”
“You can’t wear that shirt out until you fasten the buttons,” he mutters, finally close enough to reach out and stroke his fingers across Clint’s belly. “Every woman and probably most the guys would want to touch you like this, and I’d hate to get headlines for Captain America breaking any hands that even try it.”
“If they tried touching, I’d be the one breaking hands.” Clint arches a brow. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Even in those clothes, you’re so fucking hot. You aren’t wearing underwear, are you?” Clint slides his hand across Steve’s ass and squeezes. Leaning up, he licks at the lobe of Steve’s left ear. “Neither am I.”
“I knew that,” Steve groans, reaching back to grip Clint’s ass and pull him closer. “Maybe this was a bad idea, after all. I don’t know how I’m supposed to dance with you in public when I’m already so aroused.”
“That’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Testing ourselves, seeing how long we can make it before one of us gives in and has to touch.” Clint rubs his body against Steve’s and smiles demurely despite his actions. “It’s about the tease, babe. Flirting and dancing and touching and wanting until we lose control and have to surrender to the desire.”
“It sounds like you’re talking about foreplay, not dancing.” Steve leans down to lick at Clint’s neck, sucking gently because he has to mark him, especially before other people see him looking this attractive and sexy.
“They’re nearly the same thing when you really think about it. Dancing with someone you want to fuck is just seduction set to music.” Clint’s breath catches when Steve sucks harder and licks the skin he’s just marked. “Can I put eyeliner on you? I think it’d look hot.”
“I, uh, you know what? Sure.” Steve hasn’t ever thought that wearing make-up would be hot, but it definitely looks good on Clint. He raises his head so he can look at Clint. “You can put it on me?”
“Definitely. I learned how to apply make-up back in the circus, and I’ll make sure I don’t poke you in the eye.” Clint smiles as he turns around and tugs Steve along with him. “Sit.” He points at the closed toilet lid, so Steve sits down.
“You picked up a lot of interesting abilities at the circus.” Steve watches Clint open a drawer in the vanity and remove a tube. “You don’t really talk about it much. Is it mostly bad memories?”
“Nah, not really. Enough bad ones to make it a part of my life that I don’t dwell on, but there were good times, too. Like you said, I managed to pick up some good skills there that have nothing to do with my ability to shoot a target. Now, tilt your head back and close your eyes.”
“Yes, sir.” Steve returns Clint’s smile as he obeys the instructions. He feels something touch the skin beneath his eyelid and bites his lip as it drags back and forth. “That feels weird.”
“It’s going to look good. I chose a color that should complement those pretty blue eyes of yours.” Clint strokes Steve’s jaw with his thumb before going back to the dragging motion of the pencil. “I learned how to do this by helping one of the trapeze artists with her make-up before the shows. I was ten when she taught me how to help her, and I thought she was beautiful. Like a princess in a fairytale. Her name was Leticia, and she left our circus when I was thirteen.” Clint tilts his head back further, and Steve keeps his eyes shut, listening to what Clint’s saying. “She fell from a trapeze about a year later. I heard that she’d rejected the advances of the owner of her new circus prior to the accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Steve can tell Clint had cared about the woman, and it’s sadly just another person that he’d lost. No wonder it had taken him so long to ever let anyone in, much less fall in love.
“Not your fault. It wasn’t an accident, and everyone in the circuit knew that. He set it up as an example of what happened to those who refused him. Leticia just paid the price.” Clint starts to apply the eyeliner to the other eye. Steve hears him inhale deeply before letting out the breath. “He crossed my path when I was in Corfu about a decade later. He left Corfu in a casket.”
Steve doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that Clint’s tense and waiting for his reaction to that confession, because that’s what it is. Clint trusts him with something he doubts anyone else has ever been told. That means more than Steve can put into words. “While I don’t condone vigilante justice, I think it sounds like he shaped his own fate.”
“Yeah, he did. He wasn’t a good guy,” Clint murmurs. Chapped lips brush against Steve’s cheek. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Steve reaches a hand out until he finds Clint’s arm, and he squeezes. “Almost done making me pretty, sweetheart?”
Clint snorts. “You’re always pretty, babe. I might not tell you that often, but that’s mostly because I know how you get about your packaging versus what’s inside, and I love what’s inside regardless of the gorgeous wrapping.”
“If I doubted that, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you,” Steve says. “I might get flustered when you give me those kinds of compliments, but you shouldn’t feel like you have to censor yourself.”
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered.” Clint kisses his nose. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed that you rarely look in mirrors and that you occasionally seem to forget that you’re not physically who you used to be.”
Steve frowns. “It’s just not something I always remember, even though it’s been years. One day, it’ll feel more normal to look at myself and see who I am now. Until then, it’s still a surprise sometimes not to see the same skinny sickly weakling I was.”
“I doubt you’ve ever been weak, Steve, regardless of outward appearance.” Clint kisses one cheekbone then the other. “All done. You ready to see?”
“I think so.” Steve opens his eyes and gets up so he can look in the mirror. The eyeliner isn’t as heavy as what Clint’s wearing, but it’s subtle and sexy. Somehow, it makes the color of his eyes seem to stand out even more. “Wow.”
“Now you know why Pepper likes to summon me upstairs before she and Tony attend some big event or another. I’m a make-up genius.” Clint smiles smugly and ruffles Steve’s hair. “We need to dishevel your hair a little more. Make it look like you’ve just gotten out of bed.”
“If we don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to be getting into bed.” Steve licks his lips and meets Clint’s gaze in the mirror.
“You promised me dancing, so we’re going dancing.” Clint slaps his hand against Steve’s ass and leaves the bathroom. “Let’s go get funky or get down or whatever this generation of kids is calling it.”
“Funky?” Steve follows him into their bedroom and goes to get a pair of boots out of his closet. He sits down and pulls them on. “Doesn’t that describe a bad smell?”
Clint laughs. “It can, yes, but it also means going out to have fun and dance. Funky is more of a seventies slang, I suppose, which is a little early for me, but it’s a good word.”
“People are strange.” Steve shakes his head as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“I got the names of a few different places that could be good. I haven’t been to any of them, so I figured we’d start at one and go to a different one if it didn’t suit us.” Clint shrugs. “We don’t really want anywhere too crowded with a bunch of kids, but we also want somewhere to dance.”
“I definitely wouldn’t feel relaxed if we were the oldest people around.” Steve smiles as he moves his arm around Clint’s waist and steals a kiss. “I think you’ve got the right idea. We’ll try them out and see where we feel like dancing.”
They take the subway, and Steve notices more than one person staring at Clint’s ass as he stands beside Steve. He has to fight down the urge to wrap his arms around Clint and pull him too close for anyone to ogle him. When he actually growls under his breath at one particularly blatant woman, Clint glances up at him and smirks.
“Don’t scare the locals, babe.” Clint leans up to kiss his cheek. “Besides, there are tons of people staring at you, and you don’t hear me growling.”
“You obviously have more self-control than I do,” Steve mutters before placing a hand on Clint’s ass and giving the leering woman a smug smile.
Clint just laughs and leans into him while they ride the train to their stop. By the time they get to the club, Steve’s ready to do some slow dancing so he can hold Clint close and sway to the music. Unfortunately, the music in the club is loud and throbbing in a way that’s more likely to induce a headache than anything else. When he hears the lyrics, some guy practically screaming about his ‘bitch’ and smacking shit up, he gives Clint a look.
“This is considered music?” He has to lean in against Clint’s ear to even be heard because the music is too loud.
“Obviously not your kind of music, so I’d say this is strike one.” Clint kisses his cheek. “We’ll try another one.”
“Good idea.” Steve looks up sharply when he hears someone behind them saying ‘fucking faggots’. He isn’t sure who said it, but it makes him angry that someone felt they could judge strangers just because they disagree with their sexual choice. It’s not the first time he’s heard such remarks, especially since he and Clint came out officially, but he hasn’t managed to acquire a thick enough skin to not let them bother him.
Clint’s hand is on his back, stroking up and down soothingly as he guides Steve out of the crowd and towards the exit. “Don’t listen to that shit. It’s just some asshole who doesn’t matter.”
“I need to get out of here.” Steve usually lets Clint lead the way in crowds, but, right now, he doesn’t feel very polite, so he pushes his way through the crowd with Clint trailing behind him. When they get outside, he tugs on his hair and gives Clint an apologetic look.
“Don’t even think about saying you’re sorry.” Clint takes his hand and squeezes it. “We’ll try another place that’s near here. It might be more us than this one was.”
“I couldn’t even hear myself think in there. It was too loud and the clientele left a lot to be desired.” Steve isn’t sure what style of music that was playing in there, but he knows he isn’t planning to have JARVIS procure any of it for him.
They walk a few blocks, and he feels himself relaxing more as they get further away from that club. The next club is just as crowded, but the music isn’t too awful. He still can’t understand half of what is being sung, but the beat isn’t too loud and annoying. Clint looks at him and arches a brow, so he shrugs.
“Strike two.” Clint smiles and tugs him back to the entrance. The third club they try is only a block away, so they reach it easily. This one isn’t as crowded, but there are a lot of people there. The music is better, and he knows what the lyrics are saying, so that’s a definite improvement. There are also various couples on the dance floor who are the same sex, which helps him relax.
He looks at Clint and smiles. “Want to dance, sweetheart?”
Clint nods. “Yeah, that’d be good.”
They make their way to an empty spot on the dance floor and move in close. Compared to what they’ve learned in their dance classes, this style is simple. There’s a lot of hip rolling, bumping and grinding, and basically having sex with their clothes on. He can definitely understand Clint’s comparison of dancing to foreplay if this is the usual modern style. He probably should have worn underwear, after all, because he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to dance this way with Clint without getting hard.
“Focus on me, babe. Don’t worry about anything else.” Clint kisses him before he starts to move his body in a way that’s sin set to music. Steve can’t stop staring as he rolls his hips and moves down to the ground and then he turns around, rubbing his ass against Steve’s groin. That snaps him out of his stupor, and he reaches out to grip Clint’s hips. He starts to move his own body to the music, feeling flushed because his earlier observation was correct.
This is like sex with clothes on. Well, except for how Clint should be behind him, since that’s how it’s been the few times they’ve had penetrative sex. Clint’s offered to switch, but Steve can tell when it’s being offered out of a sense of obligation instead of a real desire to feel Steve inside him. One day, Clint will offer and really want it. Then Steve’s going to make him forget whatever memories of the past make him look a little scared whenever he suggests switching.
Thinking about Clint’s past and what could have happened to cause such fear makes Steve pull Clint closer to him. He presses his chest against Clint’s back and leans down so he can kiss his neck while they move to the rhythm of the music. Clint reaches his arm back, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair, and it’s easy to let everything around them fade. At some point, Clint turns around so they’re facing each other, and they kiss as the song changes to something about putting rings on it, but Steve’s not paying enough attention to know what ‘it’ is.
The sound of a throat clearing interrupts their kiss. Steve looks up to see some brawny guy standing there staring at Clint in what he considers an inappropriate way. “Can we help you?” Steve asks a little more sharply than he might normally.
“I’m cutting in,” Brawny says.
“And I’m not interested,” Clint says. “I’m with someone, so thanks but I have to say no.”
“I wasn’t asking. Pretty boy here can find someone else to dance with,” Brawny informs Clint, motioning at Steve.
“Pretty boy?” Steve curls his fingers into a fist. Clint’s hand on his wrist stops him from doing anything, not that he’s at a point of resorting to violence. Still, he could easily take Brawny with one punch.
“Like I said, thanks but no thanks.” Clint straightens up and his eyes go cold in that focused way he is when he’s Hawkeye. Brawny takes an unconscious step back, and Steve feels himself starting to get hard watching Clint tell the guy off without even saying much of anything.
“Whatever,” Brawny mutters before scurrying away.
“You’re so hot,” Steve whispers, moving closer to Clint and rubbing against him. “I, uh, I think we should go now.”
“I’m not done dancing,” Clint says, smiling slowly. “C’mon. Let’s go to the bathroom.”
“I don’t want to go to the bathroom. I want to go home.” Steve pouts as he follows Clint anyway. When they reach the bathroom, he makes a face at how bad it smells and how dirty it is. “This place is filthy.”
“It’s a club bathroom, not the Ritz.” Clint laughs and pushes him into one of the empty stalls. Before Steve can protest, Clint follows him into the stall and shuts the door. Doing so makes Clint practically crawl up his body, but he somehow manages to get it shut and locked.
“Clint, what are you doing?” Steve talks low because he isn’t sure if there are people in the other stalls or not.
“I’m saving my favorite toy from getting scraped up by this evil denim,” Clint murmurs, licking his lips in an obvious way as he reaches down to unbutton Steve’s jeans.
Steve swallows hard and considers whether he can actually let Clint do what he’s planning to do. Anyone could be in there or come in, and it’s not like he’s quiet when they have sex. “We can’t do this,” he whispers.
“It’s making you harder,” Clint points out with a slight smile. “No one can see us, and we won’t let anyone catch us. Just be quiet, babe, and let me make you feel good.”
“I knew I never should have admitted the thrill of getting caught should be put on our list.” Steve isn’t sure how he feels about doing it in reality, especially not like this, but Clint’s not lying about how hard he’s getting. Part of that’s because Clint’s touching him now, but the situation is also partially responsible.
“I’m going to kneel down on this filthy floor and suck your dick until you come in my mouth. Then I’m going to bend you over the toilet tank and fuck you using your own come as lube,” Clint tells him, and Steve bites his lip to keep from gasping at the image that comes to mind when Clint talks. There’s a knowing smile on Clint’s lips as he shoves Steve’s tank top up and begins to suck on his nipples while he keeps stroking his dick.
“Clint, please,” he hisses, bucking forward. If Clint keeps touching him like that, he’s not going to last long enough for anything else. After the dancing and touching on the dance floor, he’s been close since they came to this club.
Instead of continuing downward, Clint straightens up and lets go of Steve long enough to unfasten his own jeans. He kisses Steve as he shifts closer and starts to stroke both of their dicks. The height difference makes it a little awkward, but they manage. “I want you to come, babe. I want you to remember that you’re mine and all those people staring at your ass can look but never touch,” Clint murmurs against his mouth.
“They were looking at you,” Steve protests, whining low in his throat as Clint keeps talking and saying the dirtiest things that just push him closer to the edge. The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him bite his lip hard enough to taste blood to keep from crying out when Clint tightens his grip on his dick. He listens to Clint’s heavy breathing while some stranger is using the urinal outside their stall. The fact that someone being in there doesn’t even make Clint hesitate in his strokes is enough to make Steve buck forward again.
Finally, there’s the sound of water running and the door opens again. Then the music gets quieter as the door shuts. “I bet he knew we were in here, knew what we were doing. Bet he’d have watched, maybe gotten off seeing you come all over me. But he can’t see that. No one can but me.” Clint kisses him and Steve whimpers into the kiss as he feels his release hit him hard enough to make him fall back against the toilet tank. Clint falls with him, not even breaking the kiss as he begins to grind against Steve and soon follows him into release.
“I’m yours,” Steve whispers, holding Clint tight against him as they try to catch their breath and recover from their orgasms.
Clint smiles down at him. “And I’m yours, babe,” he murmurs, leaning down for a slow kiss. Reluctantly, he pulls away and pulls wads of toilet paper from the dispenser. He starts to wipe them off and ducks his head as he grins. “I think we’re going to have to head home, after all. There’s no way to hide these spots.”
“You wanted another dance,” Steve reminds him quietly. “Our shirts will cover it, so let’s just go have one last dance before we leave.”
Clint arches a brow and looks at him. “Okay. I just didn’t want you to feel awkward if someone noticed and knew what we’d been doing.”
“I don’t care.” Steve smiles. “If you want another dance, let them look and wonder.”
“I love you.” Clint kisses him hard before he steps around him to stand on the toilet and check out the room. “It’s clear. Unlock the door.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart.” Steve laughs and opens the door, stepping out and going to the sink so he can wash his hands. After taking a look in the mirror, he decides that it’s not too obvious that they’ve had sex in the bathroom stall. He takes Clint hand, and they walk back into the club. “Oh, hey, I was wondering, what exactly was that woman singing about putting a ring on?” His only response is a laugh from Clint followed by a kiss, which makes him forget all about his question.