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There’s an awkward moment in every sexual encounter. Especially the first one with someone new. Unless you’re dead drunk and just don’t give a fuck about awkward anymore, there will be a moment when you go “uhhh…what?” and everything just kinda stops and warps in that weird way that makes you furrow your brow.
Clint knows this.
Clint’s got a shit ton of experience with this.
But…this one’s different. This one…actually kinda sucks.
“Clint?”
He winces at the confusion in Phil’s voice, looking down the length of his body to where the older man in kneeling between his legs, wiping a hand across his mouth to remove the drool that had slicked down when he’d been deep-throating Clint moments ago.
It had been going perfect. Until Phil had pulled off and looked up, growling out a low “turn over.”
“Um,” Clint reached up and scrubbed a hand through his hair, trailing it down to rub it over his mouth and leave it there, words muffled. “I…okay, problem.”
“Problem?” Phil echoed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth though his voice was a bit more concerned than his placid expression implied. “What sort of problem, Clint?”
Shit…well, no turning back now, he thought, tugging his hand away and meeting Phil’s eyes. Clint had had too many unsatisfying sexual encounters because he’d kept his mouth shut. He sure as hell wasn’t about to have any more.
“I actually…uh…prefer to top. So, I mean, if that’s a deal breaker in any way, just let me know and I’ll—“
“Oh, thank god.” Phil muttered, ranging up over his body to pull Clint into a hard kiss that had him gasping.
Clint let himself get lost in the kiss for a moment before the words registered and he pulled away, grinning when Phil huffed out a breath and leaned their foreheads together.
“Thank god? That’s…alright with you?”
“You have no idea.” Phil grinned back at him, leaning in to lick a stripe up Clint’s throat, grinding their hips together. “Every person expects it from me. To top, that is. And to be completely honest,” he leaned in until his breath was ghosting over Clint’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.
“I would love for you to fuck me.”
If Clint would have had a camera, appropriate circumstances or not, he would have snapped a picture of the expression on Phil’s face when he flipped their positions with one smooth move, the older man’s mouth falling open as his eyes darkened, staring up at Clint.
“Yeah?” Clint returned the lick, Phil shivering and swallowing hard under his tongue. “You wanna get fucked, Phil? Want me to open you up, get in deep?”
Porn talk doesn’t work on everyone.
However, it does, apparently, work very well on Special Agent Phil Coulson.
The man’s eyes shuttered, his pupils dilating to the point it almost swallowed that gorgeous blue that Clint loved, and he arched, grinding their cocks together. Clint bit back a moan at the action, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and watch the expression’s flitter across Phil’s face instead.
Everything from relief to lust to affection was evident in the lines next to his mouth, the softness in his eyes, and in the smile curving his lips. Clint leaned down to take his mouth in another hard kiss, stealing Phil’s breath and replacing it with his own as they both tried to wait as long as possible before coming up for air.
“Stretch me open?” Phil asked, an unsureness to his words, like he wasn’t certain all this was real.
Clint grinned down and nodded, letting Phil flip onto his stomach, hiding his face in his stacked arms as he shoved up onto his knees. He leaned back to grab the lube from the end of the bed, pouring a generous amount onto his palm, guessing by Phil’s relief and surprise that it had been a while since he’d gotten fucked like he wanted, before brushing one finger against Phil’s hole. The man made a small noise and shivered, Clint running a slow hand over the curve of his ass and pausing, leaving his finger pressed against Phil.
“Alright?”
“Little cold,” came the muffled answer, Phil speaking against his arms.
Clint smiled a bit at the shyness from the normally stoic agent, bending to press a kiss to the small of his back.
“Should I warm it up first?”
“Just go slow.” Phil murmured, shifting to spread his thighs further, Clint nodding and slowly pressing a finger inside.
It was tight and hot in all the ways Clint had imagined when he’d lay in bed and fucked his fist, moaning out Phil’s name into the darkness and spilling onto his stomach, thinking this would never actually happen for real. He pressed deeper and brushed up against the small bump that had a shudder running through Phil’s body, the man moving back against him.
Clint took his time, slowly stretching Phil out, alternating between stroking his fingers in and out and pressing firmly on that same bump, Phil making soft moans every time. He occasionally bent over to brush a kiss against the older man’s back, loving the way Phil would abandon thrusting back against his fingers to arch up into the touch.
Meant something more if they were more interested in your touch than your fingers, right?
By the time Clint had three fingers buried deep, crooked inside Phil’s ass and relentlessly pressing against his prostate, Phil was practically sobbing, moving erratically.
“C-Clint, please. You said you’d fuck me, do it now. Now. Now. Now.”
“Yessir,” Clint murmured with a grin, Phil reaching a hand back to slap at his forearm, eliciting chuckles from both of them as he reached over to grab the lube, pouring more on his fingers.
He was careful when he slicked his cock, hissing at the pleasure that shot through him when he wrapped his hands around it. Clint almost didn’t even want to put the lube on, because he was pretty sure if his wrist moved the wrong way he’d cum all over Phil’s ass—instead of, you know, inside it, which was kinda the point of all this—but no lube is no fun.
Or so Natasha had said when she chucked the bottle at him before he left on his date.
A thought had him pausing, letting go of his cock to—jesus fucking Christ, Barton, get your shit together—tap Phil on the small of his back, the man turning with a frown and an arched brow.
“Um, yeah, hi.”
“Hi.” Phil looked amused more than pissed, which was good, given how stupid Clint probably looked in this very second.
Regardless. This was important.
“Um, how do you wanna—I mean, I think I’ve got one in my wallet, and that’ll probably fit me better. Not that we’re not the same size! It’s just that I know what brand I like.”
“In your wallet?” Phil echoed, the eyebrow climbing higher as Clint groaned and went to drop his head into his palm, jerking away at the last second so he didn’t smear lube on his face.
“Condom. Um, not that I was expecting anything. I’m never expecting anything, that’s not why I carry one around! But they can be, you know, useful and shit.”
Oh, this is going fantastic, Barton. Please. Keep talking.
Clint scrubbed at the back of his neck with his non-lube-covered-hand, flushing under Phil’s blank stare as the man flipped onto his back, pushing up onto his forearms to meet his eyes.
“Personally, Clint, I’ll leave it up to you. I trust you, and I know we’re both clean from our last medical exam. If it makes you more comfortable to wear one, go ahead. If not, I’m perfectly fine with that too.”
Clint swallowed hard, the dryness of his throat making a soft click, as he tried to gather his now scattered thoughts from the corners of the atmosphere. Phil….wanted him to fuck him bareback. Wanted to feel Clint inside him. He…
“You trust me.” Clint whispered hoarsely, Phil’s eyes softening as he sat up, taking Clint’s face in his hands and brushing a soft kiss against his mouth.
“Of course I do.” He murmured quietly, before nodding towards the bedside table, a slight smile playing around the edges of his mouth. “And I’ve got a handgun in there if the trust disappears.”
Clint laughed, hanging his head, Phil joining in shortly afterwards. The moment was recovered, thank god, and Clint eased Phil back, hiking one leg around his waist and shuffling closer on his knees.
“I’ll just…not, then? Because I really wanna feel you. And I…I wanna fill you up.”
Phil sucked in a breath at the last words, nodding and swallowing, letting his head fall back on a moan as Clint guided the tip of his cock to Phil’s hole and pressed, just a bit. He let Phil guide him—like he usually did with his lovers—going by the way his hands loosened and tightened on Clint’s biceps as indicators of stop and go. By the time Clint’s hips met Phil’s ass, they were both panting for breath, Phil’s eyes squeezed shut and Clint’s nearly there too, only open at all so as to watch his face for any expression of discomfort.
“You weren’t kidding when you said it’d been a while, huh?” Clint managed, gasping when Phil wrapped his other leg around his hip, the angle changing and Phil tightening around him.
“N-No.” Phil answered shortly, rubbing a thumb across his bicep—no doubt as an apology for his sharp tone—and breathing deeply, visibly relaxing in front of Clint’s eyes.
Clint waited patiently—even though it felt like his fucking balls were going to fall off—until Phil gave him a short nod, cautiously thrusting forward and echoing Phil’s gasp at the feeling.
Phil. Was. Tight.
And not just ‘I haven’t gotten fucked in a while’ tight.
But more like, ‘I haven’t gotten fucked in years’ tight.
Guess he hadn’t been kidding about people wanting him to top.
Clint moved slowly, stopping whenever Phil’s grip on his bicep tightened, slowly opening Phil up until the man had let go of his arm completely, fisting the sheets by his head instead and moaning. Clint hooked Phil’s legs just a bit higher, letting him hook his ankles together at the small of his back and leaned forward, bracing himself and using the leverage to thrust harder the next time.
“Sonofabitch.” Phil swore, moving his hands up to grab at Clint’s shoulders, his legs pulling Clint in tight, keeping him in place as he writhed against him.
Clint smiled at his enthusiasm, figuring he was alright to go ahead and talk now that they seemed to be settled in, and dipped his head just a bit, so he could speak the words inches from Phil’s flushed skin.
“Like that? You’re getting looser, Phil. Know why?” Clint waited for Phil’s quick nod, swiveling his hips and driving in hard, relishing in the older man’s groan at the action. “S’cause I’m fucking you open. Making a place for my cock. Making sure you feel this tomorrow.”
Phil babbled something, Clint wasn’t exactly sure what, caught up in the moment, in the words pouring from his mouth that brought whimpers and moans from Phil’s.
“Yeah, pull me. Grab on. God, you’re so fucking tight, Phil. I’m getting so close, was so close. Watching you buck back on my fingers, so needy, was fucking beautiful. Nobody else, Phil. I’m the only person who gets to see you like this, alright? Love this, love it.”
“Love you.” Phil murmured, half-way gone already, one hand off Clint’s shoulder to stroke his cock between their bodies.
Clint took pride in the fact that he didn’t even stop thrusting at the admission, though his mouth fell open just a bit. Yeah, Phil and he had known each other for years now, and been dating for about three months, but love?
Not that he wasn’t completely fucking head over heels by the first date, that’s not it at all. This was…this was Phil Coulson. Agent Iceball. No emotions, no feelings, no care except for the job.
If the baby agents could see him now, Clint thought with a wide grin, bracing himself just a little wider and quickening his pace.
Phil’s eyes had flown open when he spoke and he was watching Clint closely, still working his cock, a guarded look to his eyes.
“Love you too.” Clint returned with a grin, Phil grabbing his face to pull him into a kiss before breaking it off just after their tongues touched, arching and falling backwards as he spilled between them.
Clint cursed as Phil got even tighter around him, shoving in a few more rough times before he came himself, thrusting through the orgasm, driven on by the thought that he was filling Phil up.
Marking him.
Claiming him.
Clint finally sagged when the waves passed, panting into Phil’s throat as the man stroked gentle hands through his hair and over his shoulders.
“Did you mean it?” Clint muttered, Phil tipping his head up to meet his eyes before smiling slowly.
“Yes.”
“Me too.” Clint returned, feeling dumb for a moment before Phil’s grin wiped the thoughts away.
He dipped his head to kiss him, Phil lacing his fingers behind his head, reveling in the softness of the afterglow, as cheesy as it sounded. Once Clint drew back he pressed their foreheads together, not wanting to move, not wanting to leave the quiet of the moment.
“Happy?” Phil asked quietly, shifting just the slightest bit under him, Clint yelping when his ass tightened on the sensitive head of his cock.
Clint pondered over the question as Phil laughed and let him pull out. He thought back on all his past lovers, all his past ‘first time’s with people as they cleaned themselves off. He thought about how badly it could have gone if Phil had demanded to top as they crawled back into bed, Clint laying his head on Phil’s chest, idly stroking through the thin hair there.
Clint thought about what his life would be like without Phil in it.
“Yes,” he answered firmly, leaning up just a bit to press a soft kiss to Phil’s mouth. “You have no idea.”