Phil had a habit of overworking himself. He’d sit himself in his office and do endless amounts of paperwork for hours on end. Mission reports, applications, recruitments, everything. If there was paperwork for it, it had run across his desk. When he got fo the tower, he took work with him. All that didn’t even include everything else he did, handling local alien emergencies, incidents requiring one or more Avenger, the usual. So when Clint was gone on a mission somewhere in France and he got a text message from Tony, he had a feeling he knew what it was.
Agent has been holed up in his office all day. Is he a vampire or does he need sunlight or something?
No one else at S.H.I.E.L.D was competent enough for what Coulson did according to Fury. Fury could honestly go shove that up his ass in Clint’s professional opinion. Just because Phil was better at his job than other people didn’t give him the right make his boyfriend feel like he should overwork himself. Clint huffed and sent a reply, then looked up at his target.
See if you can distract him if it’s nothing life threatening. If his right eyebrow twitches when he says it is, it’s bullshit.
He lined up his shot as he waited for a reply. When he felt his phone buzz, he let his arrow go flying.
The arrow hit the man in the thigh. Two agents moved in to collect him.
Yep! You’ve got this Tones, I believe in you.
Clint grinned as he remembered their conversation from the day he injured his ankle. He didn’t think the man was planning to go through with it.
Distract him. I can totally do that. I’m great at distracting. The best.
But maybe he’d be surprised.
Tony’s heart seemed to beat louder as he read Clint’s message. Surly he didn’t mean the thing they talked about in the elevator. That had just been a joke, right? Besides Coulson wasn’t... He didn’t feel that way. Of course there was the cuddling from the other week which he had successfully avoided talking about completely, and the occasional lingering touch of flirty conversation, and the general feeling of being cared for, but that didn’t mean there were feelings.
On either side.
Definitely no feelings.
Towards Clint either.
No feelings of wanting to care for them and make sure they felt safe, or feeling safe enough around them both to let them see him after he’d had a nightmare or a panic attack, or feelings of endearment when he heard a small noise coming from his ceiling vents meaning a certain archer was watching him, or the feeling of he didn’t know what when Phil came into his workshop with lunch and a gentle squeeze to his shoulder reminding him to please eat.
No feelings there.
And there definitely weren’t feelings of physical attraction. Especially not when Coulson rolled his sleeves up above his forearms and loosened his tie just a bit. Especially not when Clint’s arms flexed as he drew back his bowstring to shoot. Most likely not at all when Coulson was in sweatpants and an old T-shirt and making breakfast and what the fuck brain that shouldn’t be attractive. Probably not when Clint was sprawled across the couch, phone in hand, occasionally stretching or wiggling into a more comfortable position. Okay maybe a minuscule amount when Phil or Clint would pick him up to remove him from his workshop when he’d been in there for too long.
So what if he had a thing for being manhandled?
Dammit now he was thinking about blowing Phil. He was totally murdering Clint if this backfired.
Phil glanced up from the papers on his desk when Tony knocked on his doorframe to alert him of his presence. “Leave your office Agent, you need actual human interaction.”
“This is important Stark, I’ll come out later.”
“Yes.” There was the eyebrow twitch Clint had talked about.
“Katniss says I’m supposed to give you a blowjob.” He had already made up his mind, there was no point in dancing around it. Phil blinked at him, apparently at a loss for words. “I’ll be in your bedroom, there is no way in hell I’m kneeling. I’m old and my knees don’t deserve that abuse.”
He left a shocked Phil in the office as he walked to the bedroom.
What did you do
Clint grinned widely as he looked at the notification from his boyfriend. He typed out his reply and stuffed his phone back into one of his many pockets.
You’re overworking yourself again, if you don’t let yourself relax I’ll get into a fistfight with Fury.
Tony was waiting on the bed when Phil hesitantly entered the room. “If you feel pressured by Clint in any way-”
“Agent. Phil. If I felt uncomfortable I wouldn’t offer. Sex is only fun when there’s consent from both, or all, sides. Speaking of all, is Katniss just trying to set me up with you or is he interested too?”
Phil snorted at that. “He’s been interested longer than I have, trust me, there will be enthusiastic consent from all sides.”
“Now that’s settled, take off your pants and get over here so I can blow you, I’m trying to distract you from your work here, and I feel like I’m not trying hard enough.” Tony rambled on as he pulled his Led Zeppelin shirt over his head and threw it somewhere behind him. Phil rolled his eyes and pulled off his tie, threw his suit jacket over a chair, and started undoing his pants as he walked over to the bed. “Wait I changed my mind, keep your pants on you look hot. Definitely take off your shoes though, these sheets are expensive to clean.”
That earned him another eye roll as Phil got himself situated on the bed. Tony moved to lean over the agent, one arm holding him up. He glanced at the slowly growing bulge in Phil’s pants and then back up at him. “Good to know you’re interested in this at least.”
“Do you really think I’d let you this close to my dick if I wasn’t?”
“Well I don’t know, you could just be doing this to please Clint or something?” Oh there’s that insecurity again, hello there. He didn’t actually mean to say that oh boy.
“Tony look at me.” The genius made eye contact with the agent seeing nothing but desire in his eyes. “I want this. From you. Not to make Clint happy, but because it’s something I want. Got it?”
Tony cleared his throat and nodded quickly. “Yep. Right. Got it.” Was he blushing? He’d better not be blushing. He’s a Stark, Starks don’t blush, what? With that he took a deep breath and pushed all (most) of his remaining doubts out of his mind and moved to free Phil’s (it felt weird to not call him agent) dick from its confinement. “Iron Man boxers? Seriously?” Tony grinned.
“Clint bought me the whole Avengers set. Be glad they’re not Captain America or else this would have been even more weird.”
“Nooo it’s adorable!” He was about to pull Phil free when the man’s phone started to ring. Tony groaned and rolled over dramatically. “If it’s anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D tell them to fuck off. I will physically shoot Nick the next time I see him I swear-“
“Clint? I’m a little busy at the moment.” There was a pause. “Clint you’re on a mission-“ Phil sighed, face flushed, and pushed a button on his phone, setting it to where both the room’s occupants could hear.
“Tony are you finally doing what I told you? It’s only been what, five or six months?” Clint’s voice came from the phone that was now set to speaker.
Tony pouted. “First of all it could have been meaningless flirting, secondly I was about to when you so rudely interrupted.”
“Is it still considered an interruption if I decided I didn’t want to be left out?” Tony’s eyes widened as he realized what the archer meant.
“JARVIS put the call through this room’s speakers. After that you might wanna stop listening.” The AI did what he asked and promptly fucked off.
“How far have you two gotten? Are you undressed?”
“Tony is shirtless but he wanted me in my clothes. No tie or suit jacket.”
Clint hummed in approval. “See babe? He’s clearly an intellectual. Tony, pull him out of his boxers.”
The genius did as he was instructed, loosely wrapping his hand around Phil’s dick, stroking it to full hardness.
“Tell me what he’s doing, Phil.”
“He’s got his hand wrapped around me, he’s j- getting me hard. Shit.”
“Hey Tones, just keep going, take him into your mouth when you’re ready.” He hummed in acknowledgement, focused on his task. He slipped his free hand below the waistband of the man’s boxers, wanting to feel as much skin as he could without completely stripping him of his clothes.
Clint was pretty sure this was the quietest he’d ever heard Tony. Ever. And that said so fucking much. He let out a quiet moan and freed himself from the tactical pants that were getting way too tight. He was in his S.H.I.E.L.D. issued hotel room, the mission went by fast, nothing more than a milk run. He heard a choked off moan that undoubtedly meant Tony had finally taken Phil’s cock into his mouth. “Phiiiil you’re leaving me out.” The pout his face showed was definitely heard over the line.
“He just- fuck Clint.”
“He what, Phil?” Clint lazily stroked himself as he listened to every noise Tony’s microphones were able to pick up. Everything from the sharp inhales from Phil to the unmistakable sound of dick being sucked. He should know, he did it regularly. Although from an outsider prospective it was easier to pay attention to the sounds, especially when you’re not trying to choke on a cock.
“His hand is wrapped around the base and his tongue, god Clint. You need to see what it feels like. Fuck. It’s so good Clint, it’s perfect, he’s perfect baby.” That’s one of the things he loved about his partner. The man everyone thought was a literal robot, all dry humor and badassery, that man completely disappeared in the bedroom. He’d become a whimpering, babbling mess. The fact that it’d happened so quickly? Stark must have been a literal god.
“Perfect huh? As good as me? Or better?”
He started thrusting into his hand as he listened to Phil go on and on. “Just as good as you Clint. Fuck he’s- Tony!”
“What’s he doing baby?”
Phil tried to reply. He really did. But it was like his brain had completely shorted out, all thoughts were gone. His answer came out in the form of a loud moan, and a little more babbling. He could feel Tony smirk around him. It seriously should not be humanly possible for someone to be that good with their tongue.
Clint felt a little bit bad for laughing as he heard Phil’s non answer. But he did tell him the genius would definitely have an amazing mouth. He decided to let Phil enjoy said mouth, and just listen to the quiet hums from Tony and the moans and whimpers he drew out from his (their?) boyfriend. His phone’s screen lit up with two notifications from Tony.
Fuck. Both his men were gorgeous. The first picture was of his mouth wrapped around Phil, hair going wild. The second was of Phil, pupils blown, face flushed, and god he loved the image quality Tony was able to create. His brain went offline for a bit as he started to thrust into his hand more desperately, feeling himself tense up and then release as he came, listening to one last stuttering moan from Phil, as the man no doubt came to his own release.
Phil looked completely dazed. Definitely a job well done on Tony’s part then. He quickly grabbed the trash can from the side of the bed and spat the contents of his mouth into it, cringing slightly when he realized there was no bag. Oh well, he’d take it out himself. Or give whoever cleaned the rooms on this floor a raise. He wiped his own mess from his hands and well... everywhere else it got with the tissues he’d grabbed off the nightstand. He found Phil watching his every move. “Sorry I uh- not into swallowing.”
Phil rolled his eyes at the genius. “Don’t apologize Tony.” Shit he recovered quickly. He still looked dazed but much more coherent than he was not two minutes ago.
“Sorry?” They both heard Clint’s laughter over the phone.
“You’re so cute Tones.”
“Fuck off, Katniss.”
“He’s not wrong.”
“Agent!” Tony complained as he dragged the now pantless and shirtless Coulson into the proper cuddling position. “Just for that you have to be the big spoon, and you’re not leaving this bed until I’ve felt properly cuddled.”
The call stayed connected until they’d all woken up.