Work Header


Work Text:

Steve startles, hard, out of deep, deep sleep - it's been a long time since he slept so hard. After he and Natasha had soaked in the tub, wrapped around each other in a relaxed embrace, easy caressing had turned to teasing that turned to a slow, intense encounter, kissing and using their hands to bring each other off yet again in the warm water, sleek from bath oil. They'd showered after, both so worn out by then that they'd washed each other and stumbled to the bed and fell asleep immediately. But now - there's-- it's someone getting into bed behind him? He jerks his head to see, but Natasha's still right there to his right, and he's starting to whip around when a low, rich voice chuckles in his ear, and a firm hand is pressing the center of his back.

"Easy, Cap, easy. Just me. You mind?"

He recognizes the voice, Clint, of course, but it's still a surprise; but automatic courtesy has him moving over without thinking, and he whispers back. "No, uh, sure-- " and there's a few seconds there, with them pulling up the covers and getting settled. Steve's trying to be still, not to wake Natasha, but Clint clearly came here, he'd assumed Natasha-- he's immediately awkward; he knew there was a sort of circle within a circle type of relationship for Clint and Natasha, existing before the team had stumbled into their amorphous closed group poly dating/sex... thing. But they'd also both jumped in enthusiastically - more so even than Steve, if he's honest, and now he's got no idea what he should do.

He's barely thought of moving to roll to his back and then maybe get up when Clint's hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and his voice is so soft, Steve wouldn't be able to hear him if he weren't so close. "Thought I'd come check on Nat since I got home early from the Montreal op."

Steve nods, and he tries not to shiver; Clint is near enough he can feel his warmth, though he's not quite pressed to him. Close enough he can feel Clint's wearing boxers, but no shirt, and it makes him feel strangely vulnerable, he's completely naked, and while it wouldn't usually register, there's something about this whole set up that highlights even that slight difference. There's a thrill of excitement there, too, that he tries to ignore. Clint doesn't seem uncomfortable, or want him to go, so he goes with it, nodding.

"I'm surprised she didn't wake up," he whispers.

Clint laughs, low, and his hand strokes down the back of Steve's arm to rest at the curve of his waist. "There's not too many people who can walk in on her sleeping. It took about three years for me to get on that list. Now I get death threats if I wake her up."

Steve smiles at that, and then his breath catches in his throat. Clint's close now, his arm loose around Steve's waist, his mouth just behind his ear. "Didn't notice she had company til I was slipping under the sheets. But I /did/ notice what's on the night stand. You two got up to some fun tonight, didn't you?"

The harness- the dildo, oh /god/. Steve makes a quiet sound, searching for something to say, but Clint makes it unnecessary. "Now I'm wishin' I'd gotten here just a little early, I would have /loved/ to watch her fuck you." His hand is stroking now, and he's inched closer, Steve's ass against his groin, against Clint's erection, his chest to Steve's back, his hand tracing random strokes and patterns on Steve's abdomen, moving lower, but just a few inches below his belly button, no further. Clint's voice is low, silky. "How'd you like it, Steve? She's so good, she'll fuck you til you /scream/. And wait til she lets you return the favor." He whistles, more an exhale than a sound. "Strict policy, nobody gets her ass unless she gets a turn first."

Steve swallows hard and nods, his mind racing--god, just imagining it-- and he fumbles a little, but reaches back, his hand finding Clint's thigh and stroking down, then back up, pushing the loose leg of Clint's boxers a few inches. He can hear Clint's sharp inhale at that, the little huff that's almost a laugh. "Well that answers-- I really was gonna ask, check if you, if this was ok, but--"

Steve murmurs, a little shocked at himself but too warm, too aroused already to care. "More than ok, yes..."

Clint fumbles behind him, it takes Steve a second to figure out what he's doing, but when he slides against him again, he's bare, his cock curving up to fit in Steve's cleft, and it makes him groan. Clint's fast, reaching to cover his mouth; the movement is unexpected and makes him jump, trying to turn his head under Clint's firm grip. Clint's voice is right in his ear, Steve can feel the little shake of his head that accompanies his words. "Quiet, shhh, shhh. We /don't/ wake her up." Clint waits, and finally Steve gets it, he nods, and only then Clint moves his hand. Clint's pressed against him, hand wandering up to find a nipple to roll it between his fingers as he kisses under Steve's ear, sucking the skin, a scrape of sharp teeth that makes Steve jerk and swallow a moan. "Been a while since I got to slip in after her, want you all to myself this time..."

Then there are fingers stroking his entrance, Steve has a second to realize that somehow they're already wet before Clint pushes in, and he smothers an initial sound against Steve's shoulder. "Oh, you're still slick, fuck, I like that."

Clint's not rough but he doesn't take his time, either, stroking deep and then adding a third finger after a moment. Steve's still loose, wet deep inside, sensitive rather than sore after Natasha's fucking; she'd been overwhelming, not unkind but not gentle either, riding him til he'd felt split open and mindless. And now it's so good to feel that push inside again it makes Steve shift and writhe, his hand on the bed to push back against Clint's touch, he can hardly keep from asking, from /begging/, but the silence, the whispers and barely audible mutterings have made it feel -- strange and dreamlike, a mood he doesn't want to break.

Clint gets it though, and he moves close to whisper again, his fingers never stopping their deep pushes, spread wide, and there's a warm heated chuckle as he speaks. "Not /just/ teasin'. I'm not one of those guys to brag, but fact is, my cock's a lot bigger than Natasha's, no matter how warmed up she got you."

Steve stifles a laugh too, but not completely, and just the image - the thought makes him answer with a choked, "--/please!/" that makes Clint shudder, and again, he smothers the sound that escapes with his mouth at the crook of Steve's neck. It's reassuring to feel him pant, to realize he's hungry for this too, and Steve reaches up and back, cupping Clint's neck for a moment, Clint's low "oh fuck, you--" barely audible even to his heightened senses.

Clint tips his head to rest his cheek against Steve's forearm before Steve lets his arm fall again, and then Clint's /there/, spreading his cheeks and guiding his cock to him. He doesn't tease or hesitate, his hand moving to Steve's hip once he's angled right, and then he just pushes, slow, inexorable. And he wasn't kidding - he's big, bigger than the smooth, slick dildo, he's thick and solid and hot, and there's the ridge of his cockhead sliding in, and then against the resistance of his inner ring, and Clint just keeps pushing in, in, in, til Steve's gasping, feeling stretched and broken and on fire with need. Just when he's sure Clint's got to be fully in, he draws back and then snaps his hips, a short, sharp thrust that makes Steve bite back a cry, he has to brace his hand on the bed again to fully feel it; and again Clint keeps pushing in, this time a little faster, and he doesn't stop til he's flush to Steve's ass, still pushing like he can't get deep enough. his arm is wrapped around Steve's middle now, to help hold him in place, and he holds there for long moments before he starts to pull back again.

Clint moves without any hesitation, thrusting deep and /hard/ without a pause even when he makes little adjustments, shifting to nudge Steve's upper leg forward a bit, sliding down so his cock pushes in at a minutely different angle, and it's relentless, overwhelming, Steve's just completely taken over with sensation, with heated, coiled pleasure, with only the awareness that he can completely let go, give over control. His cock is so hard, aching, and yet there's no thought of touching himself. It's not out of restraint or denial though, he /has/ to hold onto the bed, the sheets clutched in his fists, to hold himself in place against Clint's rutting pushes, deep and god, steady, so steady, the pace he's moving, the slide and push and slip back, almost out only to nearly shove back in again. Clint's affected too, thank god, he can hear his gasps and pants and the very occasionally bitten back "Fuck--" or "Steve, ahhh, ah, ah---" amongst other less intelligible sounds.

He feels like it could go on forever, and at the same time like he can't stand it if he doesn't come /now/, it's a crazy contradiction that somehow still makes sense, and he's finally able to push back as Clint thrusts, and that's a signal to Clint, that's all he needs to let loose and just go, hips slamming and his cock dragging against Steve's prostate with every perfectly angled thrust; Steve has to bring a hand to his mouth to muffle himself, he'd be keening, whining, if he wasn't still trying desperately to stay as silent as possible. The sounds of their breaths and the heavy thudding smack of their bodies is far from quiet though, almost enough to cover it when Clint grits out "Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck..." as his hips move impossibly faster, and then, god yes, his sure, calloused fingers close around Steve's cock and stroke him ruthlessly.

And Steve comes, of course he comes, embarrassingly, unbelievably fast, before he can form the thought or focus on anything beyond the blinding pleasure that completely confounds him. Clint's release is mere seconds behind, his teeth sinking into Steve's shoulder and making him groan in the exquisite aftershock the sharp twinge sends through him, and then they're both still except for their heaving chests, panting loud in the dim room. Steve finds himself tipping his head back against Clint's shoulder and clumsily reaching back to hold his hip; he'd say 'stay' or 'don't move yet' but he can't quite form words, and Clint gets it, answering with a breathy chuckle and covering Steve's hand with his. They're sweaty and spent, Steve feels a shiver work through him as his body comes back to itself, and he can feel Clint's breathing normalize too, neither ready to move to clean up, not yet.

"You know, I really have to wonder how the /hell/ you two think you can do that right next to me and not wake me up." Natasha's voice is dry, wry, and there's a note of laughter that Steve notices even as he startles at the unexpected sound. Clint's chuckling against his neck instantly. "Rude, that's what I'd call it. Fucking right next to a girl and you don't have the common courtesy to invite her to join you? Hmmph!"

But she's turning toward them, and Steve inhales as suddenly there are cool fingers on his spent, too sensitive cock, already responding, and then she's right /there/, pressed close, breasts against his chest, her mouth on his, tongue sleek and wicked in his mouth and he gasps, reaching out for her, and the slide of his hand from her hip to her side makes her purr a moment, and she smiles. "I thought we might have exhausted even /your/ refractory powers, Captain, I am /so/ glad to see that's not the case. Because you-- " and she turns her head to look at Clint with a smug, teasing smile, "and you have some serious making up to do, for leaving me out."

"Sounds like an order, doesn't it, Cap" Clint's grinning, and he slips out of Steve to move over the top of them and end up behind Natasha. Steve's grinning, and he nods. "It kind of did, you're right. Well, /I/ know better than to argue with a lady..." Natasha snorts at that as they're already moving impossibly closer together, the three of them fitting the tangle of their legs so they're completely entwined, hands already stroking and caressing, and then there's only Natasha's surprised moan mingling with his quiet laugh and the sound of some lost word from Clint, muffled against Natasha's shoulderblade as they lose themselves together.