Inell's Fanfiction Archive

It’s only been a week, but Steve’s already feeling like their new apartment is home. It feels more like one than the suites did, and not just because he’s sharing this with someone else. The suite was bigger than his old place in Brooklyn, of course, so it’s not like he’s going to complain about it. Still, this place is somewhere he can settle down in and make a real home for them. He knows that Clint’s never had a real home before, so he’s doing what he can to make this more than just a place they sleep.

During the past week, he’s been adding personal touches and bringing in things that mean something to both of them. Not that Tony and the others hadn’t been great with the decorations, but they’d left enough free space for him and Clint to add their own stuff. So Steve bought a really pretty black and white photo of Coney Island circa the 40s and hung that frame above one of the sofas. They bought an old radio from an antique store in midtown that’s now sitting on the bar. Clint added some old movie posters to the walls up in the loft area, so now Bogart and Robinson look out over the space.

The project Steve’s just now finishing is a surprise for Clint. He’s been sneaking around to work on it when Clint’s at the archery range or hanging out with the others, and he’s finally got it done. If Clint likes it, Steve’s already chosen a perfect spot for it. He just needs to show it to him and hope he hasn’t made a bad decision or done something that Clint won’t like. The last thing he wants is to inadvertently hurt Clint, after all. Steve wipes the glass again to make sure there are no smudges before he hides it beside the sofa furthest from the door.

After that, he cleans up the materials he’s had out to finish the project. Clint’s just upstairs watching a movie with Natasha, so he’ll be home when it’s over. He thinks Steve’s at the gym, and he did actually go there for a few minutes so it wouldn’t actually be a lie, but Clint knows he’ll be back before the movie is over. It’s nice having some private time away from each other, especially now that they’re officially sharing a home, and he’s glad they’ve got friends they can spend time with whenever they want. If they were constantly under each other’s feet, there’d probably be more bickering and less of what they do have, which is romance and affection and laughter and love.

“JARVIS, I’m turning into a big old sap,” he says with a groan.

“Captain, it is perfectly normal for someone fortunate enough to be involved with master Clint to display romantic tendencies and sentimental behavior,” JARVIS tells him.

“I don’t mind that you’ve got a crush on my boyfriend, you know? I think everyone here does in some way or another. He’s just got that special ability to make people fall in love with him.” Steve grins up at the ceiling.

“He does receive more attention on the posting boards I monitor since the article by Mr. Hodges was published on Monday,” JARVIS says. “He is often described as dreamy by those without pornographic minds.”

He makes a face when he thinks about the article, mostly because he came across like a fool in love while Clint came off as this dynamically sexy man who managed to win Captain America’s heart without even realizing it. While that was true, it’s still a little embarrassing. “Dreamy is definitely a good adjective.”

“Babe, are you talking to JARVIS again?” Clint smiles as his face appears above Steve’s.

“Have I mentioned how much I dislike that stealthy spy skill of yours when it means sneaking up on me?” Steve blinks up at him and smiles. Clint ducks his head down to place an upside down kiss on his forehead.

“Not today, but I might have heard it a time or two. Should I be jealous of whomever you think is dreamy or flattered that you missed me so much you had to talk to JARVIS about me?”

“How was the movie? Did Natasha enjoy the BFF bonding time?”

“Changing the subject in an extremely obvious way means I’m flattered. And dreamy. I love you, too, babe. Nat really liked the movie, mostly because there were tons of explosions, and she always enjoys BFF bonding time. Did you enjoy the gym?”

“Always. But I wasn’t there for long. I came back here to work on something.” Steve finally straightens up and turns his head to look back at Clint. “I had a project to finish.”

Clint jumps over the back of the sofa with that carefree grace that Steve almost envies. After he sits down, he scoots closer to Steve and smiles. “What project?”

“It’s for you, actually. I hope you like it, but tell me if you don’t. I don’t want you to feel obligated if it’s not something you want,” he says, biting on his bottom lip as he looks at Clint.

“I don’t think you’d do anything that I wouldn’t want, babe. But I’ll be honest and tell you what I really think. Now, give me my surprise.” Clint grins.

Steve leans over to get the large frame and hands it to Clint. “I found the box when I was unpacking things in the bedroom, and it inspired me,” he explains. Clint isn’t saying anything, which worries him. “I drew the sketches from memory, and I only met him a few times, so I might not have got the details right. I tried finding photographs, but I couldn’t find anything to use for reference.”

“Phil didn’t like having his picture taken. There’s only one I know of that’s even slightly recent, and I keep it in my wallet.” Clint speaks softly and he’s touching the glass of the picture frame. “Steve…this is…”

“I wondered why you didn’t have pictures, since he meant a lot to you, and I wanted you to have some. It’s not real, just drawn, but maybe they’re okay?” He licks his lips and looks at the picture frame. He’d sketched six different images of Phil Coulson, including one with Phil, Natasha and Clint, and he’d put the dog tags he found in the middle of the sketches, so they could be hung up and remembered. He’s already decided that he’s going to do something similar for himself, with Bucky and Peggy and Howard and the Commandos. It’s nice to remember, especially when he knows that the memories will get fuzzier in time. He already can’t remember what Peggy smelled like or how Bucky sounded when he laughed.

“They’re great.” Clint wipes at his eyes and turns his head as he coughs to clear his throat.

“Hey, no hiding.” Steve reaches out to squeeze his shoulder. “I regret not having a chance to get to know him.”

“He loved you. Well, Captain America and what you stood for. He’s somewhere right now creaming himself, no doubt, at the idea of you sketching him.” Clint laughs but it’s weak and he burrows his head against Steve’s neck. “This is beautiful, babe. It’s a great tribute to him.”

“I’m glad you like it. I’m going to do one for me next, with my old friends,” he murmurs, stroking Clint’s arm gently. “Then, I’ll work on one for us, with our new family. I thought we could hang them on the wall between the two windows, make them a focal point.”

“That’s a wonderful plan.” Clint kisses his neck. “You’re so talented, and you don’t seem to realize it.”

“I know I’m good, sweetheart, but I like drawing things that mean something to me. I went to art school, you know? I couldn’t do it professionally, creating things for other people’s visions that didn’t mean something to me. I wasn’t cut out for that. I probably would have been like some of those artists we see in the park, sketching and selling what I could and sharing a place with a dozen roommates just to have a roof over my head.”

“I’d love you even if you were a poor starving artist.” Clint looks at him. “At least you had something to fall back on. I’m nothing without my eye and ability at hitting a target. I’ve had nightmares before, about losing my sight and being off the team and out of S.H.I.E.L.D., with nothing else to offer the world. I got my GED after I left the circus, but I never went to college or anything.”

Steve knew about the GED and lack of college, but he hadn’t realized it bothered Clint so much. “You can always go to school now, if you wanted. I’ve seen on television about colleges that are all on your laptop. But, Clint, you’re a hell of a lot more than just a marksman with an amazing eye.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully I’ll never lose my eyesight and have to test that,” he says with a low laugh. “Thank you for my gift, babe.” He kisses Steve slowly and thoroughly, moving his hand down Steve’s chest.

“If you keep that up, we’re going to end up naked,” Steve warns, reaching down to lightly grip Clint’s wrist. “We should hang the picture up, if you want.”

“I do want. You naked and to hang the frame.” Clint smiles and stands up, holding the frame carefully and carrying it to the wall Steve had mentioned. “You even have the hook already put up. I’m glad, since I can’t remember where we even stored the hammer.”

“I wanted it to be ready if you liked it and wanted to hang it.” Steve walks up behind him and nuzzles his neck. “It looks good there.”

“It’s perfect.” Clint touches the frame again before turning to face Steve. “Naked time now?”

“One track mind,” Steve teases. “Sure you don’t want to make a snack? Or read some of your current book?”

“I want you naked. Would you like to dance?”

“Naked dancing is something I can’t really refuse, sweetheart.”

“I know. It’s an easy way to get what I want. I’m sneaky that way.”

“It isn’t that sneaky if I see through it, right?”

“Potato, potahto. Take it all off, babe.”

“I don’t think that’s what Gershwin had in mind when he wrote that song.”

“You never know. I seem to remember reading somewhere that there were rumors he was gay. If that’s true, he’d definitely have been telling you to take it off.”

Steve groans. “I really wish you’d quit hitting me with all this scandalous gossip about people I used to read about in the old Hollywood magazines that Bucky’d steal from the vendor on the corner.”

“It’s not my fault they were so outrageous back then.” Clint bats his eyelashes. “You still aren’t naked.”

“Neither are you.” Steve reaches down and pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I’d better see some bare skin, sweetheart, or I stop here.”

“I thought it might be fun if you got naked but I didn’t.” Clint waggles his eyebrows and leers playfully.

Steve just looks at him. “Take off your shirt. If we’re doing this, we both do it.” He stepped closer. “I’ve seen you in the bath and shower, Clint. It’s not going to turn me off if you get naked.”

“I hate how you seem to be able to read my mind,” he mutters, glaring for a moment before he sighs. “It’s ugly, and it’s just going to remind you about what happened.”

“There’s nothing about you that’s ugly.” Steve reaches out and tugs on the hem of Clint’s shirt. When Clint reluctantly raises his arms, he pulls the material up and over his head.

Clint stands there and lets his arms fall to his side, tilting his chin slightly. “See? Ugly.”

“Not ugly.” Steve leans down to kiss the new scar that’s across Clint’s pecs. Reaching down, he strokes his fingers along the one on his ribcage. “Beautiful. My beautiful Clint. These are reminders that you survived, that you fought to stay alive. How could I ever associate them with anything but beauty?”

“Steve, please.” Clint reaches down to fumble with the button on his jeans. “Want to see you, to feel you.”

Steve steps back and unbuttons his jeans. “You too.” He shoves the denim down his legs and steps out of it before doing the same with his underwear. “JARVIS, please play my Seducing Clint mix and, uh, go listen to the others.”

“You created a mix to seduce me?” Clint arches a brow and stops shoving his pants down as he smiles at Steve. “How naughty of you.”

“I had to give it a name.” Steve shrugs a shoulder as the music begins playing. It’s a lot of sultry jazz intended for slow dancing, so what else should he have called it?

“I like this one.” Clint finishes getting naked and walks over to take his hand. “We have our very own dance floor now, babe.”

Steve follows him and they move in close, swaying to a Gershwin song that had nothing to do with Potatoes. He tightens his grip on Clint when he hears him singing along to the song about wanting someone to watch over him. As they dance, they touch and stroke each other, but they take their time and tease. They’re both hard, and they kiss as they move to the music.

When they pull apart from one of the kisses, Steve looks down at Clint and feels something tighten in his chest. It sounds ridiculous and cliché, but it’s how he feels. “I love you,” he whispers. “I want to feel you inside me.”

Clint misses the step and blinks up at him. “Did you…”

“I think it’s time. It feels right, sweetheart. I want you to make love with me, all the way.” Steve feels warmth on his cheeks but it’s not really embarrassment. More like arousal and eagerness because he’s wanted this but neither of them has been in a hurry, so he had decided to follow Clint’s example of going slow and waiting for it to feel right. It finally feels like the right moment.

“God Steve. You’re crazy.” Clint laughs and kisses him. “You constantly surprise me.”

“I don’t think it’s crazy to know what I want and ask for it.” Steve smiles. “Will you do it?”

“Stupid question. Of course I will, if you’re sure.” Clint waits until Steve nods before he takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. “Wow. Okay. So, uh, we should go to the bedroom. We don’t want your first time happening on the dance floor.”

“Should I go wash myself?” Steve hasn’t planned on doing this, so he’s caught himself by surprise, too.

“Yeah. That’s good. You go do that, and I’ll get everything ready.” Clint kisses him hard, nipping at his lips before he lets him go. “I’m going to make it so good for you, babe.”

“I know you will, Clint.” Steve goes to their bathroom and carefully cleans himself in a way he never has before. It feels a little strange, if he’s completely honest, but he finishes it easily enough. When he steps into the bedroom, he can’t help but smile. “Candles?”

“Well, it’s a big deal, your first time, and candles are cliché but clichés exist for a reason.” Clint shrugs and pats the bed beside him. “Come here, Steve.”

Steve crosses the room and crawls up the bed to reach Clint. He’s a little nervous, despite his enthusiasm, so he’s grateful that Clint just kisses him. They roll around the large bed until Steve’s on his back and Clint’s rubbing against him. It feels good, and he bucks his hips up for more friction.

“Would you rather switch?” Clint asks, brushing kisses along his jaw. “You can do me, and I’ll do you some other time.”

“I’m nervous but not scared.” Steve makes Clint look at him. “I’ll accept that offer soon, but not tonight. I want to feel you inside me, and I know it’s going to be awkward and possibly hurt a little, but I still want it. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” Clint says, laughing as Steve sticks his tongue out at him. “You tell me if it feels too uncomfortable, alright? There might be some pain, sure, but it shouldn’t feel horrible. And it should start feeling better if I’m doing it right.”

“Of course I’ll tell you.” Steve leans up for another kiss. From there, Clint takes over, and he lets him. It feels good when Clint kisses and licks his way down Steve’s torso. When he starts sucking his dick, Steve whimpers and moves his fingers into Clint’s hair.

After sucking him until he’s babbling, Clint finally raises his head and lets Steve’s dick slip from his mouth. “I’m going to put a finger inside you now. Just relax and let it inside.” He goes back to sucking and a sticky wet finger presses against him. He tries to relax, but it feels weird and he can’t help but tense up. Clint rubs circles on his belly to soothe him, and he feels himself letting the finger inside.

Steve starts to get used to the feeling of something where he’s never had it before, and then Clint adds another finger. It burns a little, but he bites his lip and shifts until it starts to feel better. By the time a third finger is pressed inside him, he’s rolling his hips and thrusting up into Clint’s mouth. The sound of slurping and his own noises fill the air until Clint suddenly pulls his fingers out and raises his head.

“Are you ready? I don’t think I can hold off for much longer, Steve.” Clint wipes his fingers on the blanket before grabbing the tube of lubricant lying beside Steve’s hip.

“I’m ready.” Steve watches Clint squeeze lubricant on his fingers before he wraps the fingers around his dick. His ass feels sticky and gross, but sex is messy, so he doesn’t care. How can he when he’s watching Clint get himself ready to be inside him?

“Do you want to get on your knees or stay like that? It might be easier if you’re kneeling,” Clint says.

“I want to watch your face,” he tells him firmly. He doesn’t need easy if it means seeing Clint’s expression as he pushes inside him. He clenches at the thought and rolls his hips. “Stop wasting time. I want you in me now.”

“So bossy.” Clint grins down at him and leans in for a kiss. “You’re going to be so tight. I thought my fingers weren’t even going to fit, and now I’m going to feel you squeezing my dick. It’s going to be so good, babe.”

“Do it!” Steve growls and reaches down to touch Clint, biting at his shoulder when he swats his hand out of the way. Clint urges him to roll his body back, his legs going across his shoulders, and it’s awkward but not too uncomfortable. Then he feels Clint pressing against him, and he sucks in a sharp breath because it feels so big. How’s it supposed to fit? What if it doesn’t?

“Let me in, Steve.” Clint presses closer, and Steve tries to relax. Finally, the head is inside him, and Clint begins to rock his hips slowly, easing more and more of his length into him. It burns, like earlier, but Steve just keeps breathing steadily because he knows it’s going to feel better or no one would ever want to do it. “Sorry it hurts. Don’t want to hurt you. God, you feel so good.”

Steve finally just thrusts his hips up until Clint’s completely inside him. It stings and he can’t conceal his gasp as he’s stretched so fully, but he’s able to adjust faster than he had been to the slow small movements Clint had been making. “Fuck,” he curses, panting as Clint kisses his face and calls him an impatient ass. He can’t deny it, so he just focuses on the feeling of Clint inside him. Finally, he says, “Move.”

“Crazy man,” Clint mutters, kissing him as he begins to thrust in and out. Eventually, Steve starts to roll his hips up to meet the thrusts. When Clint’s dick rubs against a certain spot that makes him see stars, he moans and reaches down to stroke himself because he’s so hard and desperate for friction. “That’s it, Steve. Jerk yourself for me. Does that feel good? You like me inside you?”

“Yes, so good.” Steve isn’t good at talking when he feels like this, so he doesn’t bother. Clint stops talking, too, as they begin to move faster and harder. Grunts and gasps fill the air until he suddenly comes, body stiffening as he spills on his hand and belly. Clint groans and his hips move forward sharply as he sinks deep inside Steve. They kiss as Clint comes, and Steve wiggles a little as he gets used to the feeling of something warm and wet being inside him like this.

Clint carefully moves his legs back down and eases out of him. “You okay?”

“Mmm. Sore but good sore.” Steve shifts and grimaces. “Definitely sore.”

“Don’t move. I’ll take care of you.” Clint kisses him before he gets up and heads to the bathroom. When he comes back, he’s got a wet washcloth that he uses to clean Steve up. “I didn’t mean to get that forceful. Think I might have bruised your hips.”

“Less talking, more cuddling,” Steve murmurs, reaching out towards Clint and making a grabbing motion. “Sleepy now.”

Clint laughs and tosses the wet cloth on the bedside table before crawling up the bed to snuggle him. “Guess I don’t have to ask if it was good for you.”

“So good. No smirking. Kiss me.” Steve finds it commendable that he can form coherent thoughts right now, even if he’s having trouble verbalizing them. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Clint murmurs, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him. “After a nap, we’ll take a bath. The warm water will soothe the ache you’ll probably feel.”

“Always taking care of me.” Steve smiles and kisses him. “Want to sketch you, too. No bath until I do. Nap first, though.” Steve pulls Clint closer and holds him tight. As he drifts off to sleep, he keeps his arms around Clint. He’s never letting him go.

End