The first time Garrett hits him, they are on an undercover mission for Shield.
Grant is 25 years old, and it's his first undercover job. They're supposed to be business partners, but things go south and the next thing he knows Garrett's fist is connecting with his jaw. The blow sends him reeling, and he hits the wall with a solid thump. As far as improvisation goes, it's harsh, but it works like a charm getting the target's attention.
It also makes Grant stunningly hard. The fact that Garrett doesn't notice is a miracle - and probably has something to do with the target's approach. While the two of them talk, Grant wipes the blood from his chin and readjusts his thankfully loose pants.
He's always had a bit of a thing for his charismatic mentor, but that punch sends it from schoolboy crush to full-blown desire. When they get the job done, Garrett slaps him on the back and congratulates him on a successful first undercover op. He also apologises for the whole punch in the face thing, and just the mention of it has Grant's blood rushing south.
The first time Garrett hits him, he realises he gets off on Garrett making him bleed.
Contrary to popular belief, Garrett didn't save him. Didn't drag him out of some awful abusive family and set him on the straight and narrow. But what a pretty story it makes. The truth is much simpler. Hydra found him, and Hydra brought them together based on their complimentary personalities.
Complimentary personalities. Ward can't help but laugh about how right they were. Garrett has a mean streak a mile wide, and Grant wants every fucking inch of it.
He thinks Garrett fucks rough, and he wants to know for sure.
The second time Garrett hits him, it's over a legitimate argument they're having.
About Hydra. Grant refusing to disobey their orders, and Garrett taking a more liberal view on the whole Hydra thing. And when he dares to question his SO's devotion to the cause, he gets his jaw realigned. Garrett grabs him by the throat and looms over him with murder in his eyes. And fuck, Grant aches for more.
But Garrett is nothing if not jovial. And he brushes off his anger in a heartbeat, laughing it off and tugging Grant to his feet with a fistful of shirt. He goes about following their orders like he'd never questioned them to begin with. Grant touches his cheek like a fucking princess and presses just a little bit against the already blooming bruise.
The second time Garrett hits him, he realises he's fucked.
Once, when they're on a mission together, Grant gets separated from his SO and it's touch and go for a while there. He doesn't realise just how much trouble he's in until three huge guys surround him. The first goes for a punch, and Grant goes down.
And he realises that it isn't just the punching that gets him off. It's Garrett.
This isn't some complex. It's just the simple line between pain and pleasure that he straddles. And he knows the difference.
Somewhere between the second kick in the stomach and the first in the face, Garrett comes in like the fucking Grim Reaper. He shoots the first two and then lays into the third with a fury that belies his usual joyful countenance.
Grant thinks sometimes that Garrett is made up of equal parts good and evil. Equal parts Shield and Hydra. And in moments like this, the evil comes rushing to the surface and it consumes him.
When he finally handcuffs the last one, he turns to Grant and helps him gingerly to his feet. All trace of the fury is gone from his smiling face, as he squeezes Ward's shoulder and tells him it's all okay now.
The third time Garrett hits him, it's to bloody him up and send him off to Coulson.
Grant takes every punch, every blow, and he loves it. For a moment though, he thinks he sees something like regret in Garrett's eyes - like he doesn't want to do this. More Shield than Hydra. For the moment.
"Grant Ward, Agent of Shield."
Garrett doesn't let up, just keeps punching. Keeps going until there's blood gushing from Grant's mouth and his face is a particular mess of blood and bruise. Then, when he's sufficiently marked, Garrett grabs a handful of his shirt and reels him in.
"Who are you?"
"Grant Ward, Agent of Shield."
Maybe it's the proximity, or the blood in his throat, maybe it's temporary insanity from being beaten half to death. But he can't help himself.
He kisses Garrett, and he can taste the other man even through the copper tang of blood on his tongue. At first he thinks he'll be pushed off, maybe even punched again. But Garrett's hand fists into his shirt and holds him fast, preventing him from backing away.
"I fucking knew you got off on this," Garrett says, spitting blood on the ground and shoving Grant against the wall. He follows, steps graceful as he slides effortlessly into Ward's personal space. One of his knees slides between the other man's legs, and he laughs. "God, you're gagging for it, aren't you?"
Complimentary personalities.
Hydra had no idea how right they were.
Garrett kisses him, and even though Grant does want this, is practically blind with need, the other man is gentle with him.
"Don't like fucking you up," he muses, mouth against Grant's throat, "can't say I don't want to fuck you, though."
Fucking one-liners. "You can't help yourself, can you?"
"You have a problem with my charm? Didn't seem to complain before now." Garrett ruts against him, and Grant's mind blanks out. He gasps into Garrett's mouth, and the older man chuckles, then resumes kissing him to within an inch of his life.
"We have time?"
Garrett laughs lowly, and his voice is gravelly when he replies, "That depends on what you have in mind."
Ward grabs him and drags him into an adjacent room, locking the door behind him and sealing their lips together. His deft fingers make quick work of Garrett's pants, and then his own.
"God I wish I could take my time with you," John mutters, taking in the new expanse of bare skin. "When you shot Hand, you fucking showoff, I thought I was gonna lose my mind."
"Thought you'd like that," he replied, wrapping a hand around his SO's dick. "You always loved the poetic moments."
"Fuck," is the only thing Garrett manages in return, his hands clamped tight on Ward's neck to steady himself. One of his hands curls into Grant's hair and pulls just enough to make it hurt.
"C'mon, old man, you gonna make me do all the work around here?"
He gets a searing kiss and a strong grip on his dick in return. They're both too high strung, both waited too long for this moment, that it's over in a second. Garrett goes first, and Ward holds him steady as he follows close behind.
"Call me old man again and I'll reconsider not liking beating the shit out of you," John pants, while Grant cleans him up and dresses him.
"Won't happen again, old man," Grant says breathlessly, eyes black with desire.
Garrett manages a laugh, and pushes him off. "Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you."
"Promise?"
"Guaranteed. Now get your pretty ass out of here, Grant Ward. You have a girl to fetch," he says, pausing and making a face. "Maybe I don't like this straight version of you as much as I thought."
The third time Garrett hits him, it's perfect.