Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes/ Clint Barton
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, some big huge corporation does.
Clint isn’t sure what exactly catches his attention at first. Sure, he likes to think he is a good lover, and he is always attentive to his partner’s tells, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get lost in the moment. And it is so fucking easy to get lost in how good Bucky feels whenever Clint is inside of him. He figures he can be forgiven for being a little distracted. Something about the way Bucky has stilled under him finally penetrates the sex haze, and Clint stops moving abruptly, gaze scanning Bucky’s face for a sign of discomfort. Hell, anything that might have his boyfriend frozen underneath him. Bucky’s eyes open, the beautiful blue-gray hue full of dazed lust.
“Why’d you stop?” Bucky’s voice is full of slurred confusion.
“Where did you go?” He shakes his head as Bucky starts to speak. “Nuh uh. You definitely went somewhere.”
“No....nowhere. I...” Bucky shifts under him and Clint’s eyes nearly cross at the effort it takes not to move. “Please, Clint.”
Gaze still locked on Bucky’s face, Clint pulls his hips back and pauses. When Bucky doesn't say anything, Clint thrusts forward again. He gradually picks up the speed when Bucky meets his rhythm, making those low, throaty moans Clint loves so much. He bends his head, brushes a kiss across Bucky’s mouth. Bucky groans, knees coming up higher on Clint’s ribs, and Clint can’t stop a groan of his own. He drops his head as he changes the angle, grinning when Bucky’s breathing hitches. Yeah, there's the spot. Clint is...
Apparently not the sex god he wants to be because Bucky is gone again when Clint looks back up. Groaning, he buries himself deep and stills, panting for breath. He thinks he should pull out completely, but can’t quite bring himself to unless Bucky asks for it. Bucky’s looking up at him, smile sheepish, and Clint sighs.
“C’mon, man. Tell me.”
There’s color splashed across Bucky’s cheeks and Clint wants to kiss it because Bucky never blushes. Ever.
“Sorry, I got a thought in my head and now it won’t go away.”
“Okay?” Clint says with a frown. He wants to understand, but he’s so confused right now.
“Do you think... I mean...” Bucky’s biting his lip and it’s kind of distracting. “Do you think we should have had more foreplay? Like maybe we’re missing a step or something.”
Clint blinks because he speaks a lot of languages, okay, and this sounds like English, but it’s not really computing.
“Seriously? I’m balls deep,” He grinds slow and dirty against Bucky’s ass, making Bucky moan. “And you’re, what? Worried we didn’t hold hands first or something?”
Bucky glares at him, but it’s not very effective because he’s rolling his hips where he’s trapped under Clint’s body. “No! I... fuck, yeah like that. Jesus.” His fingers are tight on Clint’s hips and Clint knows there will be bruises later. “It’s just... I was barely in the door, we said hey, and then pants were dropping.”
"You were gone on a mission!” Clint’s finding a rhythm again, almost desperate because he’s not sure he can keep starting and stopping like this without losing his mind. “I missed you.”
Bucky’s smile is fond. “I was in New Jersey, Clint. For four hours.”
Clint scowls, pulls back like he’s going to pull out. “Did you want to talk or something first?”
Bucky’s smile becomes a glare and he tightens his thighs around Clint, flips them over so Clint is on his back. Bucky lowers himself down on Clint’s cock, moaning as Clint fills him. “Asshole.”
“What? I’m confused here, Buck.” Clint gets a hand on Bucky’s cock, jacks him slow and dirty while Bucky rides him. “Can we talk about this when we’re not distracted?”
Bucky must agree because he throws his head back, rests his hands on Clint’s chest as he rocks himself on Clint’s cock. It’s so fucking good, Bucky tight around him and his cock hard in Clint’s hand. He’s so wet with pre-come it’s easy for Clint to get the perfect grip on that gorgeous cock as he braces his feet on the mattress so he can match Bucky’s movements. He swipes a thumb across the head of Bucky’s dick, smiles at the whimper Bucky makes even as his brain starts to wander.
“I’m not the only one who gets impatient, you know.”
Bucky looks down at Clint, clearly lost. “What are you talking about?”
“The no foreplay thing. You’re on me just as quick as I am on you.”
“It wasn’t a complaint, Clint. Let it go.”
“Jesus Christ.” Clint groans like he’s in pain because he kind of is. “Never say that during sex again.”
Now Bucky looks as exasperated as Clint felt earlier, and this is not how he wanted the afternoon to go. He reaches up with his free hand to tangle fingers in Bucky’s hair and pull him down for a kiss. Bucky moans at the change in angle, and Clint bites at his bottom lip. The position has got to be hell on Bucky’s back, but at least now neither of them can talk. They lose themselves in kissing, in the movement of Bucky’s hips as he takes Clint’s cock so damn deep. They’re both a sweaty, shivering wreck when Bucky pulls away from Clint’s mouth, breath coming in harsh pants.
“Please, baby, I need to come.”
Clint groans, a sucker as always for the pet names that roll out of Bucky when he’s getting laid. Clint twists his fingers, gets his thumb just under the head of Bucky’s dick in the way he knows Bucky loves and Bucky is shouting his name as he comes. Clint’s orgasm is quieter because it’s like he can’t breathe, watching Bucky come apart over him.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous when you come, Buck.”
He knows he sounds awed, can’t help it, and it’s fine because Bucky never teases him about it, just leans down to kiss Clint while Clint works him through the aftershocks.
After, they’re sprawled side by side and Clint’s got an arm thrown over his eyes. It's like he can’t stop thinking about what Bucky said earlier. He wishes he had remembered to leave a bottle of water on the nightstand for his painfully dry mouth. He clears his throat.
“You, umm, you looked hot at breakfast this morning. In that blue shirt. You know, before you left and went to hell.”
“New Jersey.” Bucky sounds amused.
Clint shrugs. “Same thing.”
He feels Bucky moving before his arm is shoved gently aside. He blinks up at Bucky who is looking down at him with the same fond smile he always gives Clint when he’s being... well, Clint.
“It wasn’t a complaint, I swear. We have amazing sex. We are great in bed, and we’re great out of it.” He doesn’t look away, but Clint can tell he kind of wants to. “It’s still new, and I guess I feel like I don’t know a lot about what you like. Hell, I don’t know a lot about what I like. It made me think, and I got stuck in my head a bit.”
It makes sense, and Clint feels the nerves drain away. He smiles at Bucky, lifts up so he can kiss him. “Okay, I get it. We can try slowing things down. There’s a lot we haven’t done. Some we have that we should definitely do more of.” He gives Bucky an exaggerated leer and reaches down to trail gentle fingers over Bucky’s cock. “I love giving blowjobs, and we sure as hell haven’t done much of that.”
Bucky whimpers, hips pushing against Clint’s fingers like he can’t help it. “Yeah. Fuck. We should definitely do that.”
Clint kisses his nose. “Shower first. Some of us don't have super soldier stamina.” He rolls out of bed, shoots Bucky a look over his shoulder. “Besides, you’ve got to be hungry. I did kind of jump you the second you came through the door.”
Bucky follows him out of the bed, huffs out a breath. “For the last time, I wasn’t criticizing.”
“Oh, hell no, buddy. Now that your grievance has been lodged with management, it needs to be addressed.”
“For the love of...” Bucky lets it go, but he slaps Clint’s ass he passes him on the way to the bathroom. “Fine, I’ll let you make it up to me.”
Clint grins, eyes locked on Bucky’s ass as he follows his lover to the shower. He’s damn well going to give Bucky exactly what he asked for.