Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the avengers, or beautiful Tony.
A/N: So ya, sequel to Surprise Meet and Greet. This one here will be multi chaptered however.
Who knew life fighting off evil villains wouldn't be so bad?
Though, that could be because he was getting awesome sex out of it.
After that first gathering, and making an "amazing" acquaintance with Mr. Bull's-eye (in more ways than one), he'd been, shall he say, a little more lenient towards complying with orders. He did so grudgingly, but the award at the end of the day was totally worth it.
At least Fury was satisfied with his partial obedience. It made his fingers twitch, followed with a deep want to knock that smug grin right off his ugly face. But the light touch of Clint's hand stroking his lower back would succeed in altering his spiteful, completely acceptable, thoughts.
Curse his weak willpower.
The relationship (if you can call it that) was a well-kept secret from the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D in general. It was "purely for release." Clint would say. "They would force us to stop, spewing out 'liability!' and 'irresponsible affection between team members'. Which is complete bullshit, but the point is, we can't win against S.H.I.E.L.D."
Tony would counter that HE was a billionaire, and could buy the fucking agency if he so desired. Hell, he could threaten them with the idea! All the same, Clint would simply shake his head and continue fucking him into oblivion.
Not that he minded.
They'd been fighting for hours.
"It's been only thirty minutes, Stark. Man up." Natasha's voice came through the com. Oops; he'd said that out loud.
"We will be here for hours if these annoying creepy crawlies don't stop fucking reproducing!" Plus, it was a disturbing sight. Killing off slimy, wiggling creatures popping out of mommy spider was not how he would have liked to spend his day.
"You're the one who's supposed to be killing the queen Tony." Steve's voice interjected.
Tony huffed and pouted; however, it was useless since no one could actually see it.
"I'm trying! But she's just, like, sucking in the repulsor blast!" A chocked laugh and exasperated sighs were heard.
"Just… get Hulk over there. He could deal with it." Tony looked around, searching for the unbeatable colossal green man, and heard the familiar roar in the distance. He took his attention off the creepy, bile raising being and flared the repulsors, speeding over to the blur that was the Hulk.
Tony stopped in front of the human wrecking ball, hovering in midair. He activated his external speakers with a clip word to Jarvis. "Hey big guy, I've got something awesome for you to smash."
The hulk looked up to stare at him, pupils blown and muscles seizing. "SMASH!"
"Yeah, smash, now follow me." The green guy seemed to comprehend that at least and crawled/swung to where Tony was leading him.
Once arrived, Tony didn't need to tell him what to do, the Hulk was already leaping onto the squirming creature and ripping her to shreds, along with a couple of her repulsive babies.
After that turn of events, the rest of the monster insects were overthrown easily enough. Tony's suit did get filthy with dilapidated guts and spider juice. The notion to chuck the new (brand spanking new, for god's sake) Iron Man suit and building another was becoming more and more desirable. They all met on the ground by the destruction.
"That was more complicated than it should have been." Clint whined, picking up discarded arrows from the rubble.
"Not our best, that's for sure." Tony commented half- heartedly. Mind fixated on the state of his armor. Goddammit, how was he going to get this stuff out of the cracks?
Fury and his fellow agents were strolling heading in their direction. Tony had a slight flash of disgruntlement at their stupid appearance.
It always meant one thing, the debriefing.
A complete waste of time.
Like, come on! They saw everything from fucking cameras. They could see through the Iron Man's eyes if they so preferred. But no! "We need to hear all your stories and match them." Tony's memory said in the accurate, high pitch, voice of the one and own director.
He just wanted to get home, back in his bed, with 'a certain someone' joining him.
Preferably inside him.
Fuck, now he's hard.
Thank god the talk with Fury didn't last as long as they could, and Tony was free to go in the matter of an hour, Clint following at a cautious distance.
The Stark Tower was now doubled as 'The Avenger Tower', a wonderful, fortunate advantage in regards to Clint and Tony's 'meetings'. Sneaking around became a hell of a lot easier. Though now they had to watch out for Natasha's suspicious gazes, Steve's wondering glances and Thor's, well, Thor was just Thor so they couldn't deduce a doubting emotion from him. Bruce was indifferent to what anyone did, and favoured spending all waking moments locked up in the lab (Tony would happily join him any time he felt like it (which would be, mostly, all the time).
Tony flew from the base, and landed on the high deck, Jarvis dismantling the suit. He stationed at the bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch to sooth the post-battle tension. A second glass tailed the first, this one managing to bridle the upcoming boredom of impatience.
The elevator dinged, signaling the archer's arrival. Depositing his tumbler, Tony met Clint halfway.
"Hey." He said with a grin, hands already going for the buttons of Clint's shirt.
"Hey yourself. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm in dire need to get rid of this." His arm disappeared from where it was stroking the back of Tony's neck to reach down and cup the bulge in his leather pants.
Tony laughed, a sudden, breathless noise, stood on his tip toes to mutter against the other's lips. "And how are you going to do that?"
"Well I was thinking of asking Natasha…" He chuckled at his own joke, and Tony shadowed with his own, although slightly forced.
He knew Clint and Natasha had a close relationship, and knew it was none of his business, but he couldn't help but feel, was it jealousy?
Tony Stark doesn't feel jealousy. You are a playboy, you love sex and you only feel this way because he's a fucking amazing fuck.
"No need for that." He recuperated without missing a beat; nonetheless, his thoughts were jumbled with unidentified emotions. "You have a perfectly willing hot specimen of a man at your disposal right here. You won't even have to walk your lazy ass around the tower!"
"Oh yeah! Where?" Tony didn't even deem that with an answer and leaned up with a roll of his eyes to kiss Clint passionately on the lips. He opened his mouth with practised ease, letting Clint's tongue come out and play.
Clint's hands roamed down his back, descending until he had a firm grip on his ass and elevated him enough for Tony to wrap his legs around his hips.
After such frequent visits, Clint could reach the bedroom blindly if he wanted too, so carrying Tony with their lips locked to the sought destination was achieved without mishap. Tony rebounded from the springy mattress once the blonde dropped him on the bed, and let loose a couple words of teasing irritation.
Clint climbed on after him and positioned himself between Tony's spread legs. They're clothing was quickly removed, and they were left naked to each other's eyes, a sight that became so comfortable that the nervousness and embarrassment was now non-existent. Fingers trailed over flushed skin, stroking to create goose bumps. Patience was minimal, and Tony was left begging haughtily, slightly humiliated by his neediness.
Clint; however, also appeared heavily unwilling to wait, hastiness showing in his movements. He hooked Tony's legs atop of his shoulders while Tony craned his neck to lightly press kisses down his neck and upper chest. The archer situated his cock before his stretched entrance, and entered with a practiced thrust, staying motionless until Tony had permitted, with a nod of his head, the actual fucking to begin.
They never lasted long, a weird occurrence contemplating of their age. But every time Tony had Clint inside him, he felt like a teenager again. All problems in the world were ignored for at least a few hours, just there to enjoy life to the fullest. He craved these moments, when he was alone behind the bar, during a troublesome battle, or when he saw him close and at ease with Coulson or Natasha. Tony wanted to share these, what should he call them? Sensations? Emotions? Caring feelings? with Clint, but didn't dare. He could be kidding himself for all he knew.
Clint pounded into him, on the brink of orgasm. Tony had hold of his dick, jerking it erratically to the rhythm of the thrust hitting his prostate. His back arched, his ankles hooked together, and his stomach gave a blast of blissful heat; he was cumming.
Clint wasn't far behind, the tightness around his cock bringing him over the edge. Once they tingling in their limbs had subsided and they caught their breath, Tony turned to face Clint.
"Awesome as usual." He said, tiredness lacing his voice. Clint gave a satisfied grin in return, but sat up to tug on his shirt.
"I need to get back to my own room before Nat or Steve wonder where I am." He leaned down to press a lingering kiss to Tony's lips, and stood up to pull on his pants.
Tony stared, expression concealing the overwhelming emotions coursing through his brain. "Ya wouldn't want that."
"I'll see you tomorrow for another round right?" Tony nodded in agreement and cocooned the sheets tighter around his exhausted, ravaged body.
"Now I'll be going to sleep now, haven't had a good rest in days." He twisted to lay on his side, back facing Clint's departing form.
"You really need more rest because one day you're going to crash so hard." A scuffle was heard and footsteps left the room, stopping at the door. "Bye Stark."
A pang went through Tony's being at his last name. "Bye Barton." He retaliated, and his door was closed with an abrupt click.
He was left alone.
And he couldn't understand why he had such a desire to pound angrily on his bed and shout vulgar exclamations to the archer's mindless behaviour.