Reaching into the fridge for a coke, Clint called out through the kitchen to his teammates.
"Hey, anyone want a drink?"
From the dining room, the Avengers returned with negatives, Tony snarking at him and the tinkle of ice in his glass audible from there.
"Unless there's a bottle of Crown stuffed up your butt- I've got my sad one."
Clint rolled his eyes as he popped open the cap of his coke. Tony had been given a limit to his drinking finally, after his last binge coincided with an emergency Iron Man appearance. A group of vigilantes wired an entire hospital with explosives that would take out not only the hospital but the apartment buildings and businesses around it in a radius of five blocks. Tony destroyed one floor of the hospital on his own in his drunken state and a patient tried to sue him for reckless endangerment and possibly not-so surprising: operating a motor-vehicle while under the influence. It didn't stand up to Tony's team of lawyers, but it was still an eye-opener for the team. Steve Rogers and Pepper Potts specifically.
"Ginger ale," Natasha called, and Loki agreed with her:
"And one for me, please."
Clint hummed to himself with intrigue as he went back into the fridge and took out a liter of ginger ale. So it was going to be that kind of night, Clint thought. He pulled down two glasses from the cupboard and proceeded to fill them with the chosen beverage. He stared at the bubbles gathered along the insides of the glasses, popping and floating, as he sifted around in his jacket, fingers swiping through the inner lining for a hidden pocket. He could hear his teammates talking in the next room, unaware of the time passing as Clint prepared the drinks. He pulled a small waxy envelope from his coat and poured the contents of crystalline, nearly transparent purple chemicals into one glass, watching it fizz and crackle quietly like exploding commotion settled after only a few seconds, all dissolved and leaving no trace behind that it had been tampered with. Clint sniffed at an easy job well done and put the empty envelope back in his jacket, grabbing all the drinks together and bringing them out to the dining room.
They all sat around the table, a holographic 3D image of spheres and lines, letters and numbers floating in the center. Tony and Bruce twirled the image and arranged the spheres, talking about elemental compounds and how they were going to engineer self-watering plants. It was Tony's recent goal to end world hunger. Bruce was down, but debated with the genius the real-world purpose of strawberries that could shoot their external seed as poisonous barbs. Tony waved his argument away and said it was all for fun. For science. He might be joking, he might not. But Bruce didn't have to tell Tony that just because you could make something doesn't mean you should.
Clint set the glass of drugged ginger ale at Loki's elbow and then took his seat next to Natasha, putting their drinks side by side at the top of their plates. Loki's eyes flicked down the glass and stared at it passively, blankly, for a moment before looking up at the hologram again. He watched it thoughtfully, listening to Bruce and Tony, and he thanked Clint for the drink quietly. Clint took a sip of his coke and hummed to Loki, watching him absently pull the glass to his lips and drink. He took big gulps, taking it down a third before setting it back on the table, and that was all Clint needed to see. He nudged Natasha playfully and began to tease her about the last mission- a wardrobe malfunction that ended up working to their advantage. She took it gracefully, aware that her body was attractive and could use it against most people, men generally. But there was that one time in San Francisco… Clint was sworn not to talk about it.
Steve broke into Bruce and Tony's conversation, asking about delivery systems for their idea, rules or publicly owned operations that would ensure their use and distribution. Clint thought that while Steve Rogers was a good man with good values- good everything, he was too soft-hearted. He could be easily disappointed and naive.
Clint kept an eye on the level of Loki's drink throughout dinner, watching him be intrigued by the conversation but not saying anything yet. He was learning everything he could about the topic from the two knowledgeable Avengers before he spoke. Little bastard. Waiting for the right moment to strike; saying his piece that would thwart Tony's plans or belittle them all with his opinion on the matter. Tony always challenged him to do the stuff he did on the fly, without magic to aid him, and Loki always waved him away. He wasn't a constant dick though. He could be funny and pleasant when it suited him. They all liked him now, and that's what Clint hated, because he had ended up liking Loki too. It had been a few years since Manhattan, a long time of repentance and earning respect and appreciation, showing his worth- and the Avengers accepted him into their lives. Clint had forgiven him for taking control of his wills, but no one would begrudge him if he still harbored a little resentment towards his one-time commander. On those days when Loki seemed unable to control his mouth, being a snotty asshole because the planets happened to align just right, Clint wanted so badly to throw him to the floor and use him as a footstool. He knew Loki would take it too: Loki went out of his way to put himself in Clint's good graces. He wouldn't act out and harm him again. He had at one time asked what he could do to make it right for Clint. What he could give him in exchange for forgiveness. But Clint told him there was nothing, and forgave him anyway. The thought of getting something and not giving in return had bothered Loki, but Clint was adamant there was nothing Loki could give, nothing he had. Though there was.
As the Avengers finished dinner and started cleaning up, Clint helping Steve wash, Loki was sluggish in his seat, looking ready to plant his face on the table and pass out. Thor had to grab him by the shoulder to keep him upright.
"Loki, are you well?"
Loki slowly blinked up at him and took a long, tired breath. "Yes… I've just- had a long day."
"Do you need help to bed?"
"No, I can manage by myself," Loki sighed in half-assed irritation. He got up and slowly wobbled to his room, thanking Bruce for dinner and bidding them all goodnight. The team returned the sentiment and continued their night- some going into the living room to watch movies, some heading off to do their own thing.
Clint stayed on the couch, Natasha lying in his lap with her feet on Bruce's legs as they watched historical fiction films. 'Period Pieces' Bruce called them and Natasha balked at it. Period, pah! They watched a few back to back until Natasha and Bruce had fallen asleep in the darkness of the flickering TV. Clint lifted her head off his lap and she awoke, but went back to sleep when Clint smiled at her and pushed a pillow to her head.
He walked with ease to Loki's room, going in without a knock or a glance to see if anyone saw him. It wouldn't matter if they did. With the door snapped shut behind him, the room was completely black, but Clint knew his way around without light. He went to the bedside table, clicking the lamp on and making the room glow a dark orange as he sighed and sat on the bed. He felt the hill of Loki's body under the covers right behind him, but Clint didn't look yet, resting his arms on his knees and taking the time to listen to the dark; breathing in the scent of Loki's room. Clint savored it like a treat; a moment of silence for the gift that was awarded him in recompense for being taken advantage of. For being spiteful… For being greedy.
He looked over his shoulder, watching Loki's form gently rise and fall in his even breathing, sleeping on his side with his hands under the pillow. Clint shifted to brush the dark hair back from Loki's face, slack and shadowed heavily from the table lamp. He slept deeply, and Clint knew he wouldn't be woken up for the next eight hours, completely dead to the world. Leaning down to him, Clint touched his nose to Loki's cheek, running up to his ear and breathing in the smell of his skin.
"Ready for me?" he rasped quietly, lips just grazing Loki's cheek. Loki didn't answer of course, drugged unconscious, but Clint was okay with that. He didn't need any go-ahead to get what he wanted. He pushed at Loki's shoulder to roll him onto his back, grabbing his wrists and setting them beside his head on the pillow. He looked good like that, Clint thought. Like a lover tossed onto the bed awaiting the other as they crawled over like a predator. And Clint did crawl over him, just after throwing the covers off; the toes of his boots dug into the mattress as he settled himself above Loki's hips. He tugged at the hem of Loki's pajamas and sighed with disappointment.
"You never make it easy for me, do you?"
He began to unbutton the silky shirt, flicking the pearly white buttons from top to bottom and flipping the shirt wide open, eyeing Loki's exposed chest and stomach in the lamplight. He was thin and toned, not muscular, and Clint liked it. He set his fingers at the top of Loki's pj pants and slid his hands slowly up the soft belly, dipping the edge of his thumb against his bellybutton as he went. Clint loved this: the anticipation and slow touches before the show really began; he could already feel the heavy pulse in his cock with the creamy, supple skin of Loki's abdomen under his hands. All it takes is the nubs of Loki's nipples rubbed under his palm and Clint dives down for them, laving the flat of his tongue over one before biting it hard. He gives the special treatment only to one, rolling the other between his fingers, making them pert and firm. He skims his mouth over Loki's chest as he moves up, snagging thin skin between his teeth when he feels it necessary. It's when he bumps his chin with Loki that he stops to watch him with low eyes, feeling Loki's breath puffing over his lips as he slept hard.
Clint had never kissed him before, not in all the times he'd drugged him to sleep and used him; it had just never occurred to him. But as he looked on Loki so closely, knowing all it took was a simple push forward, Clint felt a surge of arousal at the thought. When he pressed his lips against Loki's, his heart pounded and he ground his hips into the body under him, length aching. He pulled at Loki's jaw, opening him up for Clint's tongue that delved into his mouth, unresponsive lips pushed and wetted as Clint pressed into him further. He was nearly panting when he pulled away, astonished at himself for getting so lost in the one-sided kiss, and he had to collect himself before he continued, absently nibbling at Loki's chin while he caught his breath.
His distracting side-trip over, Clint shimmied down the thin body again, bringing his lips to Loki's belly and mouthing the soft skin all the way to the top of his pants. He ran his hands along the sides of Loki's hips, squeezing the silky fabric between his fingers as he slowly pulled the pajamas down, revealing inch by inch the sharp jut of Loki's hip, low valley of his groin, and the mounds of long silky thighs. Clint's breath stuttered as the full scent of Loki reached him, drawing the side of his face along Loki's belly to get closer. His tongue flickered out down the naked skin, tasting the smell through his mouth until he brushed his lips over Loki's limp member. Burying his nose between privates and thigh, Clint moaned, digging his fingers into Loki's hip and reaching down to squeeze his own trapped length thick in his jeans. He tried not to think about how he never used to do this. Loki's musk never used to push Clint into a frenzy, and he never used to care about worshipping the body he used. He huffed hard through his nose and sent the thoughts away, pushing himself up onto his knees again and tugging his jeans open to release his cock. Looking down over Loki's bared body, Clint took himself in hand and stroked hard and slow, trying to calm himself down a little before going in for the main course.
Loki's arms were still up where Clint put them, skin and muscles pulled up around his chest, molding him into a statuesque vision in warm gold. He breathed lightly with barely any movement to his lungs, and slept soundly, peacefully. Beautiful, Clint's mind supplied, and he pushed the sentiment away with the need to mess it up. Just like Loki messed him up.
He shoved his jeans down around his thighs and leaned over him, carefully lining himself up with Loki before letting his hips fall down over him, Clint's hard cock and Loki's loose flesh squeezed between them. He leaned on one arm to keep himself up and he took a deep breath as he settled in. It always took a moment for him to get started, like he couldn't believe what he was actually doing, but then- he was already there so why not finish the job? He tilted his hips into him gently, relishing that first drag on his skin before licking his fingers and reaching between them to rub the spit on Loki's skin where his cock would grind. It slicked the way a little and would wear away quickly, but his own fluids would help eventually. They always did.
He began to roll against the unconscious body, small groans pulled from him as little sparks of pleasure skittered down his legs. Clint swallowed hard as his breathing ramped up, setting his forehead on Loki's chest and pushing harder into Loki's hips. He was starting to sweat, trying to keep himself in control and not rut against the god with abandon, but he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out for long. He took a moment to shove Loki's pants further down, grabbing one leg under the thigh and pulling it up around his hip; more pressure and leverage for his thrusts. There was a rush of arrogant pride as Clint found Loki hardening against him, a natural reaction to such lewd gestures that Clint couldn't help but snicker at. He adjusted their cocks to line up beside each other, pushing himself further up along Loki's body and biting harshly at his exposed neck.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?" he said in a gravely tone, nearly breathless in his grind against him. "This is for me, but you still want a piece of the action."
Loki's body rocked with the growing ferocity of Clint's thrusts, getting closer to his finish, and Clint raked his fingernails down his skin, bumping over his ribs and scratching down his soft sides until he reached his hip and bent leg, grabbing Loki's ass in a sharp handful as he quickened the pace. He was leaking from his tip, spreading it along Loki's abdomen in a slight glide and making it all the hotter for him. He grunted and panted as he worked harder to get to the point of his tryst, huffing heavy breaths over Loki's collar. Heat was pooling in his groin, the slightest pressure in his balls telling him he was close and he drove against Loki fervently, short moans pressed out of him as he chased it. Bumping his head against Loki's chin, Clint remembered the soft, pliant lips he had tasted earlier and he yanked Loki's head down for it again, delving his tongue in and kissing him breathlessly as his body started to tingle, reaching the threshold for his orgasm. He released Loki's leg and held his face with both hands as he plundered the slack lips, breath catching in his throat and muscles tensed with the pulsing burst of orgasm that shook him. His hips ground into Loki's jarringly, aching to feel that electrifying pleasure wash over him forever as he sighed into Loki's mouth, spreading the ejaculate between them and slicking their lengths further. As the wave of heat rolled away, Clint sighed one more time over Loki's lips, giving them an affectionate nibble before drawing up on his knees to look at his handiwork.
His cum had pooled in Loki's navel and slipped down to the sunken valley of his groin and hips, Loki's long pale cock still hard and leaking it's own pre-cum with the vigorous handling it had gotten. Clint let his softening length hang out of his jeans as he dipped a thumb in the pool of his semen, leaning over Loki again to swipe it against his bottom lip, making it glisten in the lamplight. He coated his finger again and pushed it into Loki's mouth, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the limp tongue, and the sensation of warm and wet, squishy muscle nearly had Clint hard again. He hummed, intrigued, and put the thought away for next time. In the back of his mind, Clint knew that he'd eventually go all the way. He invaded further and took more with every drugged night so that soon he'd be fucking Loki in his sleep rather than just rutting against him. Clint tried not to let the thought rankle him because, hey, Loki deserved it, right? Loki had taken from him, and he had even said he'd do anything to pay him back for it- he asked for this.
Clint slowly dressed Loki again, pulling his pants back up to his hips, leaving him hard and wanting and wet, and buttoned the shirt as well- drops of cum still on his belly. He always left him like that, evidence of semen on his body to claim his prize. Loki's cock would be tight and dry in the morning, along with the skin that the sperm had dried on, and Loki would think it was another crazy wet dream. He tucked himself away back in his jeans and scooted off the bed, taking Loki's wrists from the pillows to lie down and pulled the covers back over him like Clint had never been there. He cleared his throat and turned off the light, going to the door with only the quiet thumps of his boots on the carpet sounding in the dark.
"See ya next time, darlin'," he said with a smirk as he left the room.
At the breakfast bar in the morning, Clint sat with Steve on the stools, buttering his english muffins while Bruce looked for the jam in the fridge. Steve was in his street clothes, no shoes, and he stuffed away his breakfast in large mouthfuls.
"How can you not be as proficient with a gun as you are with a bow? Aren't they the same thing?" he asked around his mouthful of muffin.
Clint snorted and chuckled. "No, bow doesn't have kick like firearms do, not like you think. I'm still good with guns, I'm just best with bows."
Bruce found the jam finally, blackberry he loved, and set it on the counter, greeting another teammate as they showed up for breakfast. "Morning, Loki."
Clint didn't turn to see Loki come up, but the name brought a smirk to his lips that he buried in his oatmeal. God but he fucking hated that banana flavored oatmeal- why did Bruce give him this?
"Good morning," Loki said quietly, lips barely moving to speak. He took the barstool next to Clint and let Bruce slide a plate of english muffins to him. Bruce took a few more out of the bag and popped them in the toaster. Loki gingerly picked up the half of a muffin and took a small bite as he glanced over at Clint. "Did you sleep well?"
Clint snickered quietly and glanced at him. Loki's hair was damp and wavy- freshly showered, but he looked far from happy. "I slept alone."
"Did you," Loki muttered under his breath, keeping his words out of Steve and Bruce's ears. They were only meant for Clint.
Clint squinted lightly at him with his wilting smirk. "Did you?" he challenged. If Loki knew what was happening, even just an inkling- would he say it? How could he let Clint do what he did if he knew? Steve and Bruce were trying not to look like gossip-loving girls at the conversation, continuing their breakfast as though nothing strange was happening.
Loki stared down at his plate with sad, somehow guilty eyes as he chewed absently. "Yes," he said quietly.
Clint hummed and turned back to his plate, heart that had started to pound calming down as he felt his secret was safe. Loki did his best to make as little eye contact with Clint as possible, looking everywhere else with a little hint of contrition… A little bit of resignation.
Ugh, I feel like this went too fast, but I couldn't really slow it down. I was trying to make it hot and creepy at the same time too and I just don't know if I got that across.