Chapter 1: Tony
The room was bathed in soft lighting that seemed to be coming from the skirting board. The pale blue glow illuminated up the walls, and when you sat down on the sleek bed Tony led you to, you couldn't help smiling at the twinkling lights that peaked out of the dark ceiling like miniature constellations. The whole room was modern and stylish, with a seemingly monochrome palette; bar the funky lighting... which you thought was a genius solution to his problem, considering you knew Tony was afraid of the dark after Afghanistan and New York.
Reaching up, you cupped his face, your thumbs tracing around his precisely trimmed goatee, before you pulled him down to your level. Your lips had barely touched his when your tongue gave a sultry swipe, and you tried not to smirk when he immediately gave in to your silent request. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck, before you leant backwards to pull Tony on top of you. He groaned into your mouth as his more than obvious arousal brushed against your thigh, and a myriad of thoughts flashed through your mind; all focused on how to rid him of his clothes without breaking your kiss.
His waist coat and shirt were easy enough, at least after Tony propped himself up on his hands so you could reach the buttons. However, he seemed just as intent on remaining lip locked with you, which meant actually removing the articles was a bit of a rig-moral; by the time you were trying to slide his trousers down his thighs, you couldn't stop giggling. The pair of you had shuffled and swayed side to side so much it had felt like you were on a boat. It was ridiculous, but you couldn't help stealing another quick kiss before letting Tony stand to kick off his shoes, as well as lose his trousers and socks.
You sat up, the skirt of the demure black dress you'd worn to dinner riding high up your thighs, but you didn't bother to correct it. If you had your way, the silky number would soon be discarded on the floor, preferably along with the racy lace lingerie you wore underneath. However, your first goal was to rid Tony of the snug black boxers and form fitting, white vest top he still wore.
You grinned up at him, trying not to make it obvious that you were wondering what was beneath the top. Because even after working and living in close quarters with Tony for over a year, you had still never seen the man topless. But now after your fifth date... one where you finally got your thrilling drive in his latest covertable, followed by grabbing some famous New York pizza and a couple of beers... Tony had invited you up to his suite. So the last thing you wanted to do was make him nervous or uncomfortable, especially since you knew he'd only been with Pepper since Afghanistan. So you let your hands slowly creep beneath his top, gradually pushing it upwards to reveal nicely defined abs. But before you reached his chest, Tony obviously had a change of heart... or at least a break in confidence.
Lightly grabbing hold of your wrists, he pulled your questing hands away from his arm body, and with a gentle push, had you sprawling back across his bed with your feet still planted on the floor. Heck knew the picture you must have made, but from the way that he grinned down at you, Tony was loving the sight. To your surprise, instead of joining you, he opted for kneeling between your slightly parted legs. His palms smoothed up them, starting at your ankles and travelling to your thighs, pushing the silk of your dress up to your hips. You heard his hum of approval, which was the only warning you got as he deftly rid you of the lace that had covered your core; though Tony chose to leave your thigh high stockings and killer high heels exactly where they were.
With gentle pressure he eased your legs wider apart, before his hands ran back up your thighs, until his slightly calloused thumbs caressed either side of your core. As he continued those maddeningly slow strokes, you could feel his breath ghost over you, making you squirm... and even if you knew this was more a diversion tactic then anything, you really couldn't find it in you to complain. Especially when Tony started placing sucking kisses over your heated flesh, before a sudden swipe of his tongue across your most sensitive bundle of nerves made you jump. You could feel his chuckle against you, even as he started a slow deliberate rhythm as he licked your core; his thumbs stroking the crease of your hips in time to his tongue. It felt good, yet oddly relaxing; but whilst you were enjoying it, you wanted something more.
How he understood what your whispered gasp of his name meant, you'd never know. But he must have, since he began to roll your stockings down, even as he sucked and licked your most sensitive spot. Once he'd removed them and your shoes, your fingers gently wove into his thick brown hair, and gave a careful tug. Tony somehow got the message yet again, because a moment later he was crawling up your body in order to capture your lips with his. The hard length of him pressed against your core, and you couldn't help the little whine of frustration that it was still hidden from you.
“Tony... I want to see you,” you managed, in between kisses. “Can I?”
“It's not a pretty sight,” he muttered into the crook of your neck. “I don't want you running scared now I've finally got you in my bed.”
You almost... almost... rolled your eyes at Tony's stilted attempt at humour, but you saw it for what it was: a defence mechanism. It was what he did, and though you hated that he felt the need to use it, it didn't phase you. It was one of Tony's quirks, and you adored him regardless. Even his warning didn't surprise you; you could see the faint glow of the arc reactor after all, and knew it was why he wore the tank top in the first place, to hide the light whilst wearing a suit. Just knowing what he'd been through made it obvious that his chest was hardly going to be unscathed, but it was Tony, and any part was going to be sexy as hell. You told him as much, earning you a pleased chuckle.
“Don't say I didn't warn you,” he cautioned, his smile turning a little strained.
“I'm not going anywhere,” you assured, cupping his face. “But if you're not comfortable, that's totally fine.”
You could smell the sandalwood and vetiver scent of his cologne as he leant down to kiss you, the press of his lips strong but sweet. You got the impression he was trying to put his feelings into actions, since words seemed to have failed him; though that didn't stop him from pulling away to whisper:
“I'll show you mine, if you show me yours.”
A laugh was startled out of you at his childish teasing, but you let him help you up, turning obligingly so he could reach the zipper at the back of your dress. Tony kissed down your back as he pulled the fastener lower; a pleasant shiver rippling down your spine as he eased the silk from your shoulders, letting the dress pool at your feet. His lips found the side of your neck, as his skilful fingers deftly unclasped your bra. The moment it was discarded you turned to face him, wasting no time freeing him from his snug boxers. Teasingly, you lightly stroked the length of him, pulling a ragged groan from him, before your hands began to creep beneath his tank top.
This time when you got to his chest, Tony took a deep breath before grabbing the hem of his top and quickly pulling it off. It was more like ripping off a plaster than something sexy, but you could appreciate he was probably wanting to do it before he lost his nerve... showing he had a weakness was already far beyond Tony's usual comfort zone, so you didn't hold it against him. Even Tony Stark couldn't be a sex god all the time.
However you still hadn't gotten a good look at his chest, since the moment the top was off, Tony had pulled you into a tight embrace; though you could feel the myriad of scars as you bare breasts rubbed against his naked torso. A gasp escaped you, not because it was unpleasant, but because you could finally feel his skin against yours. Scarred or not, it felt amazing, and you kissed him hungrily before pulling away to finally see.
The first thing you actually noticed was that the arc reactor glowed with the same pale blue as the lights along the skirting board. You smiled at the realisation, not the least bit surprised... you figured Tony found the colour comforting after all the years he'd lived with the piece of technology, and to be honest, you rather liked the hue yourself. You'd have loved to explore, to run your hands and tongue across the newly revealed skin, but you noticed a guarded look entering Tony's eyes, which was the last thing you wanted to see. So you contented yourself with quickly running a hand down his marred torso, whilst playfully licking and nipping at his neck and collarbone, until you could wrap your hand around him. Alternating between tortuously slow and fast enough to make him pant, you caressed the length of him, twisting your wrist with each slide of your palm until Tony suddenly grabbed the back of your thighs and picked you up.
He grinned at you mischievously before dropping you back onto the bed, and you couldn't help laughing as you bounced on the soft mattress. But laughter quickly turned into a drawn out moan, as Tony effortlessly slid two fingers into your heat. His pace was lazy, a tempo he kept even when your rolled your hips to try speed him up. It was driving you mad.
Granted, that was hardly a sonnet of seduction, but Tony had you so wound up that stringing more than a couple of syllables together was too much effort. Somehow he resisted teasing you for it... at least verbally, since her purposefully rubbed his length against the core of you, as he reached up to pull a foil packet from beneath his pillow. You raised an eyebrow, equally amused and intrigued that he'd evidently been confident you'd be going back to his after your date, but that was something to rib him for later.
All you cared about was eagerly watching him roll on the protection, before reaching up to grab him by the back of the neck, and pulling him down into a hungry kiss. You were passed the point of wanting to tease, and thankfully so was Tony. He slid into you with one fluid thrust, and you both moaned at the sensation of having him hilted inside you. He felt delicious, and as you locked your ankles over his lower back, the new angle had him hit all the right places.
Tony leant down on his forearms, bringing your torsos flush as his hands carded through your hair. You weren't sure if it was to be closer to you, or to stop you looking at his chest, but you weren't particularly bothered when he rolled his hips; hitting you right there. Your head tipped back as you sighed in pleasure, affording Tony the opportunity to lick up the column of your throat before nipping your ear lobe.
With unspoken agreement you fell into an easy rhythm, the roll of your hips perfectly mirroring his, even when he reached down and pulled your right leg up to rest over his shoulder. You let out a contented hum, too far gone to give any verbal approval; Tony had already worked hard to get you wound up twice, coherent thought was a long forgotten concept. Your focus was narrowed down to the sandalwood and vetiver scent of him, the taste of wine that still lingered on his tongue, the heat of his skin as your hands scrambled for purchase, and the exquisite friction of his movements.
Then all at once, that steadily building pleasure hit it's peak, your entire body began to lock, chasing the sensation until a final roll of Tony's hips pushed you over the edge. Every single cell of you felt the current, a wave of heat followed by a sensation of calm; even as Tony thrust himself to the hilt one last time, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You contracted around him as he slowly pulled away from you, your sensitive bundle of nerves still feeling electrified from your release, though the rest of your body felt blissfully relaxed. Your muscles so heavy, that even rolling over to cuddle into his side when he returned to bed felt almost like too much effort, but a satisfied smile pulled at your kiss swollen lips, when Tony curled an arm around you shoulders to pull you close.
You were tempted to let your fingers gently caress the arc reactor, and you debated telling him that you didn't mind his scars at all; they weren't ugly, but a symbol of what a complete bad-ass he was. However, you didn't want to risk ruining the contented mood that had settled over you both. Instead, you draped your arm across his stomach, before craning your neck to plant several feather light kisses along his jaw. Tony stifled a yawn as he turned to press his lips to your forehead, and you let your eyes slip close... only for a moment...
Chapter 2: Bruce
Nervous butterflies flittered around your stomach as you lead Bruce through your apartment. It had taken several weeks of dating, and just as many false starts, but you were really hopeful things would go right this time.
You'd made sure to set the mood. The usual lights were off, instead your bedroom was lit with soft fairy lights and gently flickering candles. The air was scented with ylang ylang and jasmine. Soft guitar music was playing just in audible level, and you'd set the room's temperature to be warm but not stifling. You'd pushed your bed to the side of your room, and the empty floor space was filled with an assortment of floor pillows and various types of blankets; from light cotton sheets to warm and fluffy throws.
Bruce's step faltered just over the threshold, his hand squeezing yours tightly. You turned back to face him, a small understanding smile already pulling at your bare lips... every time the two of you had tried to advance your relationship, you'd always dressed up; pretty lingerie, perfect make up. This time you'd opted for a different approach. You'd forgone make up and opted for a simple, navy silk robe to cover up in. Bruce was equally relaxed; a comfortable pair of grey joggers and a classic white tee... essential, the clothes he usually wore when you practised yoga together.
The pair of you had always know you were never going to have a 'normal' sex life, but it wasn't really about that. Both of you wanted to introduce more intimacy in your relationship, and after some extensive research, you'd figured that trying some sort of tantric sex might fit your needs. Or at least you could adapt the idea to suit your slightly unorthodox relationship. There's been a few instances where you'd tried, always after dates where you'd already dressed up, but the mood had never felt right; and even though you'd assured Bruce every time that it was alright, the night would end with him feeling guilty and you worrying about him.
After the fifth failed attempt, you'd suggested making it intentional, a date night that was solely about exploring intimacy between you... whilst once again insisting you were not expecting anything from the evening except being close to Bruce. So you'd run a bath in your en-suite, decadently adding rose and vanilla bath oil and decorated the warm water with lavender and peach coloured rose petals. Tea light candles surrounded the tub, and you'd managed to find a good quality elderflower presse; since Bruce didn't drink.
However, although your boyfriend knew the premise of the evening, you hadn't told him the details. Which meant stepping into your bedroom was the first time he was confronted with the reality of it all, so to help ease the nerves you knew he'd be feeling, you simply wrapped your arms around Bruce's neck and embraced him tightly. After a moment's hesitation, he hugged you back, and for several minutes you stood holding each other; the gentle music drifting around you.
“Thank you,” he whispered in your ear.
You planted a soft kiss on his cheek as you murmured back: “Remember, there's no end goal tonight. It's just about being together.”
“I know, but...”
“No buts,” you interrupted, lightly kissing his lips. “It's just about relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I still can't help think...”
“Well don't,” you teased, gently. “I know what you're going to say, and I'll say what I always say in reply... to be blunt, if I wanted to get off, there's toys for that. I'm perfectly capable of pleasing myself if I want to. But this is not about that, and you know that. If you insist on thinking, use that wonderful sexy brain of yours to think rationally. Tonight is just indulging in uninterrupted time together, where we don't need to worry about our friends, or the press, a mission, or even random fans looking for autographs.”
Bruce offered you a gentle smile, and even in the dim light, you could see the blush trying to creep up his neck. You didn't know if his bashfulness around sex was something inherent to your boyfriend, or a by-product of his forced celibacy, but he always seemed to flush whenever you openly admitted to being able to take care of your own needs. It was kind of adorkable, but you refrained from teasing him about it... just this once.
Instead, your hands slid down his arms until you could lightly catch his hands. You gave him a reassuring smile, as you began to lead him towards your en-suite. Though your smile got wider, when Bruce pulled you into another hug the moment he set his warm, chocolate eyes on the petal filled bath.
To your surprise, your boyfriend took the initiative, turning you in his arms so your back was flush with his torso, in order for him to loosen the silk tie that held you robe together. You glanced at him coyly over you shoulder as the navy material fell to the floor, then without another backward glance, your sauntered over to the large bath. There was a rustle of clothing behind you as you stepped into the fragrant water, and you were dying to look, but a moment later Bruce's hand appeared in your peripheral; a sweet gesture to help you get comfortable in the tub.
Scooting forward slightly, you made enough room for Bruce to slip in behind you, allowing you to settle back against his chest whilst his legs bracketed your hips. Feeling the hair against your skin wasn't a surprise, you had seen your boyfriend topless a handful of times, but it was the first time feeling his naked body against yours. A soft hum of approval escaped you as you reached a hand over your shoulder, your fingers danced along his jawline, and you smiled at the few days worth of stubble you could feel there.
The thick layer of petals bobbed along the surface of the water, effectively hiding most of you from view, but that only added to the romance of the moment. Helped further by Bruce reached for the rose scented soap; he trailed soft kisses down the back of your neck as he lathered the bar, and you sighed contentedly as he smoothed the fragrant bubbles over your slick skin. Not for the first time, you were immensely gratefully for the lavishly large tube your apartment provided... courtesy of Tony... since it gave you room to shuffle further forward, in order to tip your head back into the water for Bruce to wash your hair.
His fingers were magically as he massaged your scalp, and after he'd helped smooth out the last of the bubbles from your locks, you insisted on returning the favour. However, turning proved more fraught than you'd imagined, and a surge of water splashed over the side, dousing several tea lights. Unable to help yourself, you started to chuckle, with your boyfriend promptly joining you in... you really should have known you couldn't escaped at least on hitch, not that it really mattered.
Still giggling slightly, you knelt in between Bruce's legs, and after helping him to wet his curly hair, you got the chance to repay his careful attention. But all too soon the water began to cool, and instead of topping it up, you both opted to move your evening to your bedroom.
Of course, exiting the tub was hardly an elegant affair, but once again you didn't care, especially when it ended in Bruce wrapping you up in a fluffy towel. In between stealing kisses, you helped dry one another, before you let over to grab the untouched drinks and your boyfriend insisted on pulling on his purple boxes again. He gave you an embarrassed smile when you raised an eyebrow in question, but he managed to blush when he explained it was a precaution against any wayward bodily fluids that might happen.
You really couldn't fault him for the thought, in fact you were rather thankful and touched by it, which you naturally let him know. Bruce's shoulders sagged in obvious relief, but you chose not to comment as you led the way back into your room; not at all bothered than you were now the only one naked. You were more happy with the situation when your boyfriend pulled you into a hug from behind, his large hands smoothing over your midriff as he cuddled you close.
“I hope you realise how beautiful you are,” he whispered.
A small smile as you turned in his arms, your hands cradling his face as you placed a lingering kiss against his unresisting lips. Slowly, the pair of you sank onto the mountain of floor cushions. Your fingers naturally wandered to his hairy chest as he gently laid you down, and you were pleased to noticed his custom Stark watch didn't start bleeping, even as you wrapped a leg over his hip. His smoothed a hand along your thigh, calf and down towards your foot; lightly squeezing to relieve tension you didn't even realise you had there.
Your breath seemed to naturally synchronise, and Bruce's gaze was warm as he propped himself up on an elbow to look down at you. You weren't entirely sure how long you spent simply smiling at each other, but eventually your hands moved up to his shoulders, where you gave a light squeeze. You were not expecting the drawn out moan that escaped your boyfriend, but considering he spent his days hunched over a lab table... or literally Hulking out... you probably shouldn't have been surprise.
“Alright, roll on your front,” you instructed, chuckling.
Bruce readily complied as you reached for the ylang ylang and jasmine scented massage oil that you'd stashed nearby, just in case. Whilst he got comfortable, you warmed a generous splash in your hands, before smoothing it down his surprisingly toned back. Kneeling beside him, your hands glided across his skin as you worked out a multitude of kinks and knots, smiling to yourself at each gasp or contented sigh you managed to pull from your boyfriend. You worked from his neck and shoulders, down to the Apollo dimples just above his rear. You were debating dipping beneath his boxers, when Bruce decided to roll over, catching you by surprised and pulling you down to sprawl across his torso.
You gasped as his warm hand immediately found your thigh, smoothing up towards your apex. To say you hadn't actually expected the night to go in that direction was an understatement, but as no sudden beeping came from his watch, Bruce ran a finger either side of your core. Without really thinking, you let your legs fall wider open, whilst your head rested comfortably against his shoulder.
His touch was languid, thoughtful, and just when you were about to accuse him of teasing, Bruce carefully dipped a finger inside you. The pace was tortuously slow, but that didn't stop your hips from rocking up to meet each lazy thrust of his hand. Though you'd always been adamant that you didn't need a sex life to be happy with him, you were hardly going to argue with the turn of events... and as long as there was no sound from the watch's built in heart monitor, you knew there was no problem.
So you gasped and writhed beneath Bruce's hand, driven crazy by the deliberately maddening pace he set. His free hand had come into play, caressing and stroking any part of your bare skin he could reach, even as he added a second and then a third finger inside of you. You were almost shaking with need before his thumb found your most sensitive bundle of nerves, and you promptly forgot to listen out for the bleeping when he crooked his fingers just so. Your body tensed as your release hit you completely unexpected, and you were only vaguely aware of Bruce gently kissing your face as he eased you through the after shocks. You were left boneless in his embrace.
That was about as articulate as you were going to get any time soon, not that Bruce seemed to mind. His smile was rather self-satisfied, and you would have rolled your eyes at his uncustomary male bravado... expect you figured it was actually rather well earned. And all was forgiven the moment Bruce leant down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, before leaning over you to snag one of the fluffy throws that made your sumptuous pillow island.
A contented hum escaped as he draped the warm fabric over both of you, and you blindly searched behind you until you managed to catch hold of his hand. Shuffling backwards until you were flush with Bruce's torso, you smiled as he moulded himself around you; his arm curling securely over your waist, even as your fingers remained entwined with his. He kissed the back of your shoulder before settling down, and your eyes began to grow heavy. You felt a faint breeze drift over you, ruffling your hair, and even through closed eyes you know FRIDAY had just controlled the air conditioning to blow out the candles for you.
You meant to thank her, but your words came out a surprisingly big yawn. Bruce chuckled behind you, before pulling you tighter into him. Your smile was back as you snuggled into your warm cocoon. You knew you should probably talk a little, discuss how successful your night had proven to be and figure out if there was anything you could do for him in the future. But as you stifled another yawn you figured you could talk later... after a few minutes rest, not a second longer...
Laughing, you fell back onto Clint's messy bed, bouncing slightly as you hit the lumpy mattress. You weren't exactly surprised Lucky had managed to trip you up. The dog whined as the archer ushered him out of the bedroom, scratching at the closed door for a moment, before presumably wandering to the lounge of Clint's run down apartment.
He'd seemed embarrassed by the state of the place, and even the neighbourhood it was in, which wasn't the best. But it was closer than Stark Tower, and you got the feeling that it was kind of significant for Hawkeye to bring you there; you got the feeling that probably only Natasha knew about this place, especially since Clint usually spent time in the new apartment Tony had set up for him at the Compound.
“If I thought for a moment you'd actually say yes, I'd have tidied up the place.”
You smiled up at Clint as he clambered on the bed to join you. It wasn't as if the apartment was awful, granted you'd spied a stack of old pizza boxes in the tiny kitchenette, and the couch had looked pretty tread-bare when he'd led you through the small lounge area. Sure, there was a mound of laundry in the corner of his room, and the entire place had a barren and rundown feel to it, but it wasn't the worst bachelor pad you'd ever seen. It wasn't dirty, for instance, just dishevelled and a little neglected... kind of like Clint when you'd first met.
“It's not that bad,” you assured.
You reached for him, your hands immediately skimming under the hem of his t-shirt. Both your shoes and his jacket had already been discarded in the hall, and after his 'breakfast date' comment earlier, both of you knew exactly why you'd agreed to come over. There didn't seem any point trying to be coy about it, and from Clint's appreciative smile, you guessed he felt the same. Especially since the moment you got his t-shirt off, he was immediately reaching for the button of your cropped jeans.
Grinning, you lifted you hips so he could slide the denim off your legs, and you quickly returned the favour; leaving him clad in simple plum boxers, as you straddled his lap whilst he sat on the edge of the bed. His hands rested on your waist before sliding up your torso, taking your off-the-shoulder top up with each movement. Feeling a little impatient, you whipped the offending article off, dropping it to join the rest of the pile of discarded clothing.
Clint's slightly calloused hands smoothed their way to your back, and for a moment you figured he was going for the clasp of your bra, until you felt yourself gently being tipped back. Smirking, you complied, confident you looked good in the violet satin lingerie you had worn... just in case.
“Fuck! You're gorgeous,” he complimented, sounding a little awed.
Without warning he tugged you back to him, your nearly bare torso pressing against his naked one. His skin was warm against yours, and you let a contented sigh escape as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders immediately, hugging him tight. In that instance, as he pulled you impossibly closer, you realised that somehow something had changed. You knew that whatever was about to happen between you two was no longer going to be just fucking, there was emotion there... far more than friends with some sexual attraction.
His lips were soft and his stubble pleasantly scratchy as he kissed a path from your neck, across your collar bone towards the top of your breasts. You giggled as his tongue darted out to lick your cleavage, and you could feel him smile against your skin, as his kisses continued to the other side of your neck. His lips travelled up the column of your throat and along your jaw, until he captured your mouth with his.
You licked the seam of his lips, not at all surprised you could still taste a faint hint of coffee as his tongue began a languid dance with yours. The kiss was intense but unhurried, and even as Clint deftly unhooked your bra and slid the straps down your arms, he didn't even trying to pull away to look. The material remained pressed between your bodies until he carefully rolled you onto your back, but even then he didn't break the kiss, instead reaching between you before blindly throwing your bra to a corner of his room.
His palm was warm as he cupped your left breast, his touch confident yet light as he stroked your skin. And still he kissed you, slow and thorough, until the need for air grew too great for either of. But even as he pulled away slightly, his eyes remained locked with yours, despite his hand now wandering down to your hip.
The intensity in his gaze took you by surprise, and you were so close that you finally realised that his gorgeous eyes were not an unusual blue like you'd always thought, but a striking sea green. There was hardly any room between your bodies, but you managed to snake a hand down his torso, over his subtly defined abs and the enticing trail of blonde hair, until your fingers toyed with the waist band of his boxers.
Your free hand gripped his delicious bicep as your other teasingly dipped beneath the plum coloured fabric... you could already feel his obvious arousal against your thigh, and though you couldn't drag your gaze away from his captivating eyes, you desperately wanted to feel him. Clint must have felt the same need, because with surprising finesse he managed to divest you both of your final articles of clothing.
Your fingers closed around his length at the same moment his hand rested over your heat. His forehead fell to rest against yours, his free hand tangling in your hair, but his eyes remained locked with yours; you knew Clint was known for his sight and focus, but being the focus of his gaze so intimately was something else... it took your breath away.
“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever fucking seen,” he whispered, huskily.
But instead of replying all you could do was moan appreciatively, as he slowly slipped a finger inside you. You didn't even feel embarrassed by how ready you were for him, being on the receiving end of his gaze was intoxicating; coupled his naked skin pressed against yours, you were almost surprised you hadn't pounced on him yet.
He bit his lower lip, obviously trying to stop the pleased smile from forming, evidently proud of your reaction. For a split second you debated calling him out on it, until a second finger joined the first; you gasped his name, barely registering you'd started stroking him to the same rhythm he was touching you, as he crooked his fingers just so.
“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered, pressing his forehead a little firmer against you.
It was impossible to look away from his eyes, even as his thumb found your most sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt as if he was staring at you, trying to discover and catalogue your tells... knowing Clint, he probably was. Because surprisingly quickly he seemed to know exactly how you liked to be touched, and all too soon you were too distracted to split your attention. Your hand left his length to clamp onto his thigh, fighting the urge to shut your eyes as a familiar warmth began to pool in you. However you lost the fight, your head tipping back and Clint's name somewhere amongst the drawn out moan that escaped you as you suddenly peaked.
He eased you through the aftershocks, but instead of feeling satisfied and languid, a fresh wave of heat shot through you as you watched him suck his fingers clean... because fuck, that was hot. Clint smirked at you knowingly, before leaning down to kiss you deeply.
“Not too tired out I hope,” he murmured against your lips.
“There's a condom in my back pocket,” you replied, only sounding slightly out of breath.
His smirk got wider as he shimmied down your body, pausing to place a cheeky kiss at the apex of your thighs, before leaning over the side of the bed... and promptly fell off. You scrambled to your knees as fast as your blissed out body would let you, and couldn't help chuckling at the sight of a clearly embarrassed Clint blinking up at you.
“Smooth, bird brain,” you teased.
He frowned at you for a moment, and you couldn't help staring until it suddenly clicked... the fall must have knocked his hearing aids out. Because they were so sleek and small, there was no hope you'd find them before completely losing the mood, a fact Clint must have realised too.
“Okay... this looks bad,” he stated allowed.
Smiling gently, you shook your head, reaching for your jeans and easily pulling the foil packet out of your back pocket. You tore it open, before sliding off the bed to straddle Clint's thighs. He was still obviously aroused despite the set back, and you quickly rolled on the protection, only to glance up at finding him staring at you; though this time his gaze was more surprised than intense.
You raised an eyebrow, signing: What? Changed your mind?
Clint frantically shook his head, replying: Fuck no! I just thought...
Grinning, you leant forward to steady yourself on his toned chest, before easily sliding down onto his length. You sighed at the delicious fullness as he groaned your name, and you couldn't help moving to sit up; his hardness encased in your heat.
You're a dork, but it's part of your charm.
He laughed, reaching up to grab your hands and pulling you to lean over him. You pinned his hands to the floor, your fingers entwined as you began to rock your hips. Clint moved his hands, effectively pulling you down and close enough for his lips to find yours. You moaned into the kiss as he bucked up to meet you, and soon your hands left his in order to tangle in his short blonde hair. Clint's strong arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you took the turn to rest your forehead against his.
The smile he gave you was incredibly sweet, almost adoring, and once again you knew this wasn't about getting laid. You'd always figured that sex with Clint would be fun and fast paced... because yes, you had fantasised about it before. But although you were obviously enjoying yourself, you were blown away by how focused he'd been before, and how gentle and... dare you say... loving he was now.
Your pace remained indulgently slow, not caring how the old carpet was cold and scratchy against your knees, and Clint didn't seem to mind lying on the hard floor as you undulated above him. He drew his knees up behind you, changing the angle and giving more force to his thrusts. From the way his hands twitched against your back you had a feeling he was close; you didn't mind, you'd already found your release. So you sat back, prepared to give him the ride of his life, but apparently, Clint cared. His hand snaked back around to your front, his thumb finding your sensitive bundle of nerves again, just as you rhythm picked up pace.
Just as you ground down on him, Clint surged up to meet you. His large hand wrapping around the back of your head and pulling you into a bruising kiss. It was that fierce press of his lips against yours that sent you over the edge. You gasped against his mouth, your heat fluttering around his length, as his hand that had been playing with you suddenly gripped your thigh tightly. His muffled groan had you pulsing him around him a final time, and after an exhausted sigh Clint flopped back, pulling you with him.
Your cheek rested against his chest, and as he slowly slid out of you, you couldn't help giggling softly. Despite the unspoken emotions you knew lay behind what had happened, you still felt thoroughly fuck, and glancing up at Clint, you saw he looked utterly debauched... it was a good look, and you were about to tell him so, until you remembered the missing hearing aids.
With more effort than you'd care to admit, you rolled off him, kneeling to the side in order to check the pile of discarded clothing. Immediately figuring out what you were doing, Clint kissed the back of your shoulder in silent thanks, before moving to check under the bed. A moment later you both triumphantly found your prizes, and you carefully handed Clint the discreet, clear coloured hearing aid.
After dusting them both off, he popped the small ITEs back in his ears, before prompting grabbing you around the waist and pulled you back onto the bed. Laughing, you snagged his rumpled duvet to throw over you both, and it only took a moment to get comfortable; Clint lying on his back with his arm curled around you, whilst your head rested on his shoulder and your leg slung over his.
“Tell me that was just as fucking good for you...” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead.
You hummed, pretending to think. “Bed hair, check. Kiss swollen lips, check. Feeling like my legs are going to collapse if I try stand again, check... Yeah, you weren't half bad, Hawkeye.”
Clint snorted. “Remind me why I like you?”
“Because I'm gorgeous, sexy, put up with your jokes and just blew your mind?”
“Yeah... they're pretty good reasons,” he agreed, squeezing you tight.
“So... when you kicking me out of bed?” you teased.
“The only reason I'd kick you out of bed would be to fuck you on the floor again,” he retorted.
“Now there's a thought,” you laughed, cuddling into him. “But I think we should try the bed next.”
“Stay the night,” he mumbled, stifling a yawn. “You can do your walk of shame tomorrow...”
“The fuck?” you laughed. “Walk of shame, my arse. I'll be fucking proud to walk through the tower in the same clothes I wore today. If we have sex just before I head back, I'll have the 'thoroughly fucked' look to go with it.”
Grinning, he pulled you impossibly closer. “You say the most romantic things, babe.”
ITEs are In The Ear hearing aids.
Once again, mashing MCU Hawkeye with Comic Book Clint Barton was a bit of a challenge, but I really hope I did him justice.
Chapter 4: Steve
Staying completely still was actually a lot harder than you'd ever expected, staying completely still whilst completely naked was a-whole-nother ball game. But at least the air was warm, and the bed... Steve's bed... that you were seated on was comfortable; covered with sumptuous silk sheets.
It wasn't the first time Steve had ever asked to sketch you. In the past six months of dating, your boyfriend had drawn you plenty of times. Some spare of the moment, some more posed like a pin up girl. However, when Steve had shyly approached you that morning, bashfully asking if you'd model for him again, you knew he had something a little different in mind. But the fact he practically tripped over his own tongue, when he finally got around to asking if you'd be willing to pose nude... after treating you to an early dinner first... you couldn't help laugh.
Naturally you'd agreed, trying not to laugh further when Steve hurriedly promised there was no 'funny business' behind his request. Because of course there wasn't. It wasn't like you hadn't tried to get Steve into bed the first few months you dated, before giving up after accepting he was just that old fashioned. You didn't mind too much, after all, dating Steve came with a lot more pros than the con of sustained sexual frustration; you just made it a priority to have uninterrupted time alone immediately after any dates you went on.
So after assuring him that you knew he was going to be a perfect gentleman, you waved him off to set up whatever he needed to set up. You helped yourself to another glass of wine, patiently waiting until Steve let you know he was ready... you didn't mention that you could feel his hand tremble as he led you into his room, and tried not to seem surprised at the silk sheets on his bed, the soft candle light and the satin wrap that had been left on the bed for you.
True to his word, after kissing you lightly on the forehead, Steve had left you to get undressed, and you folded your things in a neat pile on top of his dresser before slipping into the pale gold robe. Unsure how he wanted you to pose, you decided to call him back in; diligently not commenting on the very visible blush that already graced his cheeks and neck.
Steve's hands still shook has he helped you onto the bed, his touch gentle and respectful as he arranged your pose. Your back was towards where he would be sitting, and anything intimately private was hidden from view. Though the way he had your upper half turn slightly, glancing back over your shoulder, left the swell of your right breast exposed. Or at least it did, when Steve carefully slid the satin from your body.
You had to give him credit for trying not to look as he stepped back, but the audible way he swallowed gave him away. So you couldn't help the slight smirk or knowing look you directed at him, when he finally sat down with sketch pad and charcoal in hand, and you weren't surprised when he seemed even more flustered every time his gaze briefly met your eyes.
You honestly had no idea how long you sat there, listening to the scratch of Steve drawing and the softly crooning voice of Bing Crosby. But just as you thought your leg was about to fall asleep, he gave a satisfied sounding sigh, and still looking down at his sketch, crossed the distance between you. He hesitated a moment before shyly handing you the sketch, quietly muttering about getting you the wrap. However, almost on it's own accord, your hand shot out to grab his wrist; your eyes still glued to the drawing... it was gorgeous. You almost doubted it was you, since the woman in the sketch could have rivalled Greta Garbo or Mae West with her beauty and sex appeal. You couldn't believe Steve saw you that way.
“This is stunning,” you whispered.
Without really thinking, you leant up to kiss his strong jawline, and you heard Steve exhale a shaky breath.
“You're making it real hard to remain a gentleman, sugar,” he said, quietly.
You huffed out a laugh. “You've been drawing my portrait all night.”
“It's not the same,” Steve stated, still staring at the wall above his headboard.
“You can still look,” you assured.
“You're too tempting for me to guarantee it would remain just looking,” he admitted, hesitantly.
By this point, even his ears had flushed pink and he was clenching his jaw so tight, you marvelled how he hadn't broken a tooth yet. And still he hadn't lowered his gaze... you had to admit, it was equally maddening and flattering that Steve was trying so hard to remain completely respectful. But after sixth months of dating, you were more than happy for things to progress further.
“If you're really that uncomfortable, hand me the robe. But I really don't mind you looking... or touching,” you told him, honestly.
Steve's sky blue eyes briefly met yours, before snapping back to the white wall. Hesitantly, his hand came to rest on your bare shoulder, his palm pleasantly warm against your skin, as his gaze slowly crept back to meet yours.
“Is this alright?” he asked, cautiously.
It was something so innocent that you couldn't help smile up at him, even as you twisted, bringing yourself to face him... but keeping your legs crossed for now. Steve seemed so nervous, you didn't want to push him further or faster than he was ready. So you shuffled towards the edge of the bed, bending your legs over the side to help keep your relative modesty. You were not expecting Steve to sink to his knees in front of you, his touch boarding on reverent as his stained fingers trailed a light path down your arms; leaving black smudges in their wake.
“I'm... I'm so sorry, I...”
You silenced his apology with the press of your lips against his. Wanting to distract him, your tongue swept across the seam of his mouth, and you could taste the faint hint of wine as you deepened the kiss. The citrus musk of his cologne was almost heady, and when he leant forward, his hands sweeping back up your arms to settle on your shoulder blades, you were forced to open your legs to let him close enough. Not that your really minded, though you'd have preferred to feel his skin against your naked thighs, instead of the soft cotton of his white tee.
“You're remarkably overdressed,” you whispered against his lips.
“Do you want me to...”
Steve trailed off, his hands going to the hem of his top, though as he glanced down and realised the position you were in, he flushed impossibly redder. His mouth opened and closed several times, obviously trying to find the right thing to say, before he looked up at you with big, puppy dog eyes. He looked partly stunned and partly terrified, you did your best not to chuckle.
“Sugar... I'm... I... ah... I should... um... probably have told you. I mean... you've probably guessed...”
“Your a virgin?” you interrupted, unable to stop your eyebrow from raising.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered, hanging his head.
Unable to help yourself, you cupped his jaw in your hands, tilting his head up to look at you once again. His hands found your thighs, his fingers drawing nervous, nonsensical patterns in grey-ish smudges against your skin.
“Whatever for?” you asked, gently.
Steve shrugged, struggling to keep eye contact. “That I have no idea what I'm doing? That I'm already making a mess of things?”
“Do you want this?”
“Yes!” he answered, immediately.
A soft chuckle escaped you at his enthusiasm. “So do I. And for the record, I'm flattered and honoured you want me to be your first.”
“What? No deflowering Captain American puns?” Steve tried to joke.
“I'll leave them to Tony and Nat,” you smiled. “Though seriously, you are definitely overdressed.”
Slowly, giving Steve plenty of time to change his mind, you inched up his t-shirt until he shrugged it off and dropped it to the floor. As you let your fingertips wander back down his toned chest and over his very defined six-pack, you couldn't fail to notice how Steve's breath hitched at your touch, or how he held his breath when you got to his waist band.
“You sure?” you asked.
He swallowed audibly, before whispering: “Yes.”
As you undid his tan coloured slacks, Steve rested his forehead against yours, his eyes locked with your gaze, and his large hands stroked soothingly up and down the outside of your thighs. You smiled at him reassuringly as you pushed both his trousers and underwear down his muscular thighs; letting him grip your hand tightly, helping him balance as he kicked off his remaining clothes. But the only time his gaze left yours, was when you handed him the sketch to put somewhere safe. Though the moment it was securely out of harms way, Steve was back, kissing you sweetly even as you shuffled further back on the silk sheets.
“I should have bought you flowers,” he murmured against your lips.
You gave a thoughtful hum. “The sketch was more than enough... and your far too coherent.”
Unable to help yourself, your reached between you both, your hand wrapping around the length of him. Even at such a simple touch Steve groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as you gave a few experimental strokes. In all honesty, you weren't expecting too much from your first time together... it was much more important that Steve enjoy his very first experience than worrying about getting you off. Besides, you were certain that there would be many more opportunities to teach him how you liked to be touched.
So with your free hand, you took care of yourself, whilst slowly sliding your hand up and down Steve's length; occasionally twisting your wrist and making him gasp. Truthfully, he lasted longer than you expected, and you were pretty worked up yourself by the time Steve shakily called your name. You immediately stopped, though smiled indulgently when he explained he was too close... however, it was hard not to smirk when he shyly added that he wanted to be inside you.
“You definitely sure?” you checked, one last time.
“Absolutely,” he nodded, seeming a little less nervous.
He cursed under his breath at your prompt, before pushing himself up from you with one hand, whilst fumbling in the bedside draw with the other. It didn't take him long to produce a distinctive foil wrap, and not wasting any time, you rolled it on him before lying back and pulling him with you. Just as you helped Steve position, he took a moment to pause and look you directly in the eye.
“Are you sure?” he asked, seriously.
You smiled at his thoughtfulness. “Perfectly.”
With surprisingly smoothness, Steve slowly thrust his hips; the pair of you moaning as he hilted inside you. A contented hum escaped your lips as you adjusted to the delicious fullness, and his shaky breath caressed your skin as he took a moment. You kissed his cheek, giving a gently roll of your hips that pulled another groan from him.
When Steve finally raised his head from your neck, the look he gave you was so full of love and awe you felt an unexpected lump form in your throat. The smile you offered him was soft and tender, and you cupped his jaw as you began to move together.
However, as expected, it didn't take Steve long to reach his peak. He tensed above you, and even in the midst of his climax, it was obvious he was trying to brace as much of his weight off you as possible. Chuckling, you gently rolled you both onto your sides, the length of him slipping out of you as you curled into his arms.
“But you... you didn't... I'm sorry,” he whispered, the very second he recovered.
You shrugged, genuinely unconcerned. “This was about you... and there's always next time.”
“What... you a love 'em and leave 'em type of guy?” you said, deadpan.
Steve stared at you, clearly scandalised. “Of course not, I just didn't think you'd want... not after...” he trailed off into a sigh. “You're teasing me, aren't you?”
“Couldn't resist,” you admitted, kissing his cheek. “But seriously, yes. As long as you're still comfortable, there's a next time.”
“Give me five minutes,” he said, his lips brushing your forehead.
“Five minutes?!” you laughed, incredulous. “This some super soldier stamina thing?”
He grinned at you, almost cheekily. “Maybe...”