Chapter 13: Game Changer pt2

Well isn't this just fan-freaking-tastic? Clint thought. After Steve and Thor dropped him off last night, Barney shoved his drunk ass into the house and to his room. Clint was expecting a hypocritical alcohol lecture from his brother or a smack upside the head, but all Barney did was smile evilly at him. Barney helped him to bed, picked out some clothes for him to wear in the morning, and set his alarm clock. Clint dropped like a rock and slept like a baby. At the time Clint was too wasted to understand Barney's agenda, but he didn't care. He didn't care until the second his clock began beeping, and Clint was brought out of his deep slumber with a childish whine. He felt like his head was stomped on by an elephant, and all he wanted to do was go back to bed for three more days. Clint almost closed his eyes again but Barney came into his room and roughly pulled him out of bed. The clever bastard. He knew Clint would have a terrible hangover but he was forcing him to go to school anyway. That's what I get for drinking on a fucking Sunday.

The hot water of his morning shower helped ease his pain somewhat. While he was rinsing himself off, Clint was hit with all of his memories from last night, and he felt like he wanted to throw up. He remembered Natasha finally had to go home, and how he almost wanted to cry. After the whole breakfast thing at Tony's house, Natasha was the only thing keeping him sane and happy. Without her there, Clint's mind was doing circles back to Tony, and that wasn't sitting right with him. He was so confused on how to feel about Tony that Clint wanted to hit something. Natasha was his partner. Natasha was his confidant. His best friend. His equal. Why was Tony Stark now potentially all of those? Clint let his guard down for one night. One night. And bam! There he was constantly on his mind. His million dollar face. That sexy shit eating grin. His slick ebony hair. His larger than life personality. The way the two of them seemed to just, click. Clint liked him. No! No I don't! Not like that! God dammit! He easily picked the lock on Barney's liquor cabinet, grabbed the closest bottle of whatever and sucked it down like it was water. Clint had no idea when he got full on drunk or even when he was in the corner store, but the next thing he knew he was giggling like a school girl at Steve and Thor. Shamelessly flirting with them and telling them some of his life story. Telling them the thoughts about Tony he was fighting so hard to repress. Why did he do that? What about them made Clint want to talk and be so free? He'd been much more loosey goosey than that before and he never told secrets to people. Clint didn't like this feeling. It wasn't familiar. He sees better from a distance. He closes off from people unless they're Natasha or rarely (oh so rarely) Barney. That's how he was supposed to function, wasn't it?

Clint got himself dressed, ate a few granola bars and drank three cups of hot coffee. Black. He still had a persistent headache, but he at least felt less nauseous. Clint looked at the counter and saw a pineapple Barney had bought the other day. He couldn't help biting his lip and grabbing at his crotch. Mmmm. Pineapple. Just like Tony's chapstick when he kissed me during Truth or Dare. The smoothie we drank during breakfast. Just before he and I- Clint smacked himself in the temple, and a new wave of headache washed over him. He growled through clenched teeth. Great. Now he couldn't even look at pineapples without thinking about Tony. He was so frustrated. His feelings about Tony were one big fucked up mixture, and he had blue balls like a son of a bitch. Tony dryhumped him, and Clint stopped himself before he could cum. He and Natasha had hot sex on the couch, and he stopped himself before he could cum. He almost jacked off a few times to get some relief, but pride was keeping him from doing so. He didn't need to do that shit! Plus there was the risk of him fantasizing about Tony, so definitely not an option.

Clint begged Barney to take him to school, but Barney refused. So with a mild hangover, backed up sexual release, and confusion out the wazoo, Clint left for school. Son of a fucking whore! Natasha tried getting him to tell her what's wrong the entire way over, once again bring up how he was compromised. Compromised. That's what he was, and he didn't like it. Yes he did. No I don't! AGHH! Natasha wasn't helping anymore, and school wasn't faring much better. Every class was just blahhhh blahhh blahhh. Constant droning about subjects that he couldn't care less about. That was bad enough itself, but Clint knew that the inevitable was coming; fourth period English with Mr. Rand. The only period he shared with Tony other than lunch, but he could avoid him there easily. When the time came to head to Room 107, Clint's feet felt like lead bricks with every step. He was tempted like hell to run out of the school and head home, but he knew Natasha would kill him for running out on her. Again. He was lucky enough to still be breathing after he did it the first time.

Clint took his usual spot in the very back of the classroom, as far away from the other students as he could manage. Mr. Rand learned his lesson when it came to calling on Clint for anything, so he was confident about not receiving any attention on that front. Tony walked into the room, a group of students clinging to him like fucking sticky notes. They were praising him for a job well done on his party. Clint was used to seeing people brown-nose Tony, but there were three things he noticed. One, Tony seemed disinterested in everything they were saying. That was weird because Tony was a major attention whore. Two, Tony took a small peek at Clint before he sat down. His eyes looked...hurt? Clint wondered what was going through Tony's mind, but the millionaire didn't look at him again. Three, Tony was wearing a tight pair of pants that made his ass look great. Clint licked his lower lip. He remembered grabbing Tony's ass and- No! Dammit, mind, just stop it! Clint's face was neutral and his eyes were focused forward the entire fifty minutes of class, but his mind was like a fucking beehive. He wanted to stop thinking about Tony. He wanted it to not be so hard to do. He wanted things to go back to how they were before. His life was still complicated before, but things were more or less simpler with Natasha. They did everything together. They ate lunch in comfortable silence. They talked shit for fun. They danced together. They drank. They laughed. Sometimes they had hot sex just for the hell of it. But weren't you doing that with Tony, too? Mostly? Clint despised it, but that part of his mind was telling the truth. In such a short amount of time, he and Tony...he and Tony,...

The bell rung and Clint jumped in his seat. Mr. Rand was going over the homework and Clint looked down at himself in horror. His shorts were feeling tight. Clint hopped up from his seat, one of the first few out of the classroom. He saw Natasha waiting for him by the door like usual, but he couldn't see her right now. He wouldn't leave the school, but some alone time was needed. He let his face show strain and frustration, signaling to her that now just wasn't the time.

Clint didn't wait for her reaction as he stormed off down the hall away from the cafeteria. He kicked open the door to the men's room, not caring how loud the slam was as it hit the wall. Clint had to fight to not punch the mirror above the sink as soon as he stomped inside. He was glad he was infamous at the school because the second he walked in, two random boys saw him and ran out, eyes avoiding him. Good. He needed to be alone right now. Clint looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes weren't red anymore but they looked tired. His headache had dulled and wasn't so persistent anymore. Clint turned on the faucet and splashed some warm water on his face. He felt angry at himself. He couldn't even count on Nat right now to make him feel at ease. If not her than who? He hung his head down and grabbed the edges of the sink. She was probably still waiting on him, but Clint didn't know if he could do this. His appetite was nowhere to be found, and he didn't know if he would be able to tune out the endless chatter in the lunchroom like he normally did. He closed his eyes and felt a lump form in his throat. What am I supposed to do?! Clint turned around and slumped his back against the wall. His eyes still closed tight. C'mon, man. Focus, Barton. Focus. He took slow deep breaths for a few minutes. Focus, Barton. Focus. This situation isn't that melodramatic. You're gonna be fine. Time to nut up or shut up. Clint opened his eyes. He couldn't believe how he was acting. Clint turned back to the mirror, grinning at his reflection. He would be fine. I'll just meet up with Nat and deal with my issues later.

Clint wiped off his face with a paper towel, and when he looked back up in the mirror his grin disappeared. He slowly turned around, seeing Tony fucking Stark come into the bathroom. Looking right at him, his signature shit eating grin not making an appearance. In fact, if Clint wasn't mistaken, Tony looked determined. No. Fucking. Way. Clint eyed Tony closely, who hadn't said anything yet. Dammit if he doesn't look sexy in those jeans. Makes me just wanna- Clint smacked his temple and Tony startled, arching an eyebrow.

"You alright, Clint?" he asked.

Nope.

"Yeah. I uh," Clint looked down at the floor, counting the tiles.

He blew out a breath.

"I'm sorry about, you know, punching you on Saturday."

Clint's heart now was racing just like it had that day. Oh boy. That's not good. He pulled the hood of his jacket up, shading his eyes with it. Tony crossed his arms and took a few steps toward Clint. Clint fought to not stare at the way his hips moved in his sexy jeans when he walked.

"I'm sorry, too, Clint." he said, no trace of bullshit in his voice.

Clint looked at him through the shade of his hood. Well, this is a shock. The egocentric attention whore is apologizing? Clint gulped when Tony took more steps forward, nearly closing the space between them. His chocolate browns were focused on Clint's obscured face. Clint noticed how unlike on Saturday, Tony didn't look like he wanted to eat him alive. He looked genuine. Apologetic. Clint pursed his lips. He hated admitting it to himself but Tony deserved the truth.

"You don't need to apologize, Tony. You were right. I was two seconds behind you with our..."

Clint huffed through his nose. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

"Encounter. I was just so,..so um,..." he couldn't finish.

Cat had his tongue. So many things were bubbling up inside of Clint, and suddenly his mouth felt dry. Tony was looking at him, and Clint was feeling something that made him nervous; his self-control slipping. He needed to get a reign on things or so help him, he was about to do something crazy.

"Clint, what is this?" Tony asked quietly.

He gestured between the two of them, and Clint knew exactly what Tony was asking. It was super weird. Seeing Tony like this. So serious. It was different. It was touching. It was hot! Clint slowly lowered his hood, letting Tony see his eyes again. Clint put his hand in his hair, and he was shaking in his stance. That simple question from Tony was causing his barriers to break. His emotions were coming, and it was a little terrifying. A little. Clint's mouth was trembling, and Tony gave the side of his nose a scratch.

"Tony I-" Clint started, but he couldn't get himself to say anything else again.

"Look, Clint, I don't know what's happening between us, but I have to know how you feel. Natasha told me how you were acting after you left. I never meant to make you uncomfortable or anything. I just,..."

Tony looked down and swallowed. Clint's fingers were starting to twitch, and so was another part of his body.

"Clint,..." Tony whispered.

The tension between them was miles thick, and Clint snapped. No way this could continue. He lifted Tony's chin with his fingers and pulled him into a hard kiss. The second their lips made contact, electricity flowed through Clint's veins. Clint grabbed the small of Tony's back and pressed their lips harder together, kissing him like he had never kissed anyone before. Not even Natasha. Tony grabbed Clint's waist and pressed in as well. Clint moaned into their embrace, opening Tony's mouth with his own. Why did he ever deny himself this? Why had he been fighting so hard? He felt so stupid! They should be doing this all the time! Clint wrapped his arms tighter around Tony, gluing their forms. Tony chuckled as his tongue found Clint's, and Clint let Tony pin his down. Just like before, Tony tasted like pineapple, and Clint's eyes fluttered. Pineapple would never be the same again. Clint grew lightheaded and he quickly realized; he has to breathe! The two of them gasped loudly when Clint pulled their mouths apart. Tony's eyes were closed but he was grinning like a fat kid in a Krispy Kreme's factory.

"I guess that answers that question." Clint breathed.

Tony laughed.

"Quoting me, I see?"

Tony's hands tugged at the belt loops on Clint's shorts, and he attacked his neck. The brunette licked and sucked at the space between his collar and shoulder, and Clint nearly fell at the knees. Tony's tongue was like soft wet fire, and Clint had never been so aroused in all his life. Tony was making him writhe.

"Oh! Oh shit!" he slipped out, and Tony chuckled against him.

"Clint?" he asked, his voice muffled against his flesh.

Clint gripped the back of Tony's hair tightly and grabbed the edge of the sink to balance himself.

"What?" he asked with a gasp.

Tony's teeth nicked his jugular, and Clint's cock gave another twitch. Tony's hands found Clint's ass and gave a squeeze, making Clint go "Ooooooh."

"It's your turn." Tony whispered.

Clint brought their mouths back together, and he gave Tony a vice hard squeeze on his own ass. Damn these jeans were good on him! Clint tongued him for another thirty seconds before Tony gently shoved his mouth away.

"It's your turn." he repeated.

"To what?" asked Clint, whose hands were moving up and down Tony's taut back under his shirt.

Tony gripped Clint's thighs as he stretched his head up to his ear.

"To cum, you idiot. You've already made me bust a nut, remember? You're so fucking backed up I can smell it." he whispered, his voice in a sexy husk.

Clint nodded, his eyes staring into Tony's as the millionaire clutched the outline of Clint's rock hard member through his shorts. Tony was right. He felt like a raging river trapped behind a dam, just waiting to break free. Clint was aching for release, and he was going to fucking get it.

"Stall. Now." Clint growled.

He grabbed Tony by his scarf, choking him some as he dragged them to the nearest stall. He only prayed to god that no one would have to use the bathroom for the next few minutes. Tony pinned Clint against the wall with another hard kiss, pleasantly surprising him with strength Clint didn't know he had. They tongue wrestled some more as Tony quickly undid the button to Clint's shorts and pulled them down with one hard tug. Tony's soft hand reached inside his boxers, and Clint bit down hard on Tony's lower lip when the boy grabbed his engorged throbbing shaft. Tony broke their kiss, stroking Clint with one hand and wiping his lip with the other. Clint looked at him apologetically. His lip looked a little swollen. Tony only grinned at him, and Clint almost came just from looking at him slowly get down on his knees. Tony pulled down Clint's boxers, his cock springing free. His bare ass pressed against the cold wall.

"Ca-ching." said Tony with a chuckle.

Clint stuck his tongue out over his lip and winced as Tony wrapped both of his hands around his cock. Tony brought his head forward, his tongue flicking at Clint's sensitive head like a snake. A string of precum leaked from him, and Tony lapped it up like a dog. Clint was so swollen it hurt.

"How about it, Clint? Mind blowing head in a public restroom? There's still time to back out. I mean, if you wanna. Do you wanna? Back out I meana?" asked Tony.

Clint balled up his fist and slammed it against the wall.

"Suck my fucking dick, Tony!" he shouted.

Tony grinned and did as he was told, wasting no more time. He brought his mouth down on Clint's head, swallowing him whole in one swift motion. Clint's back arched and his toes curled in his shoes. He squeezed his eyes shut and made loud walrus like sounds. Tony was bobbing his head up and down on Clint's member. Soft. Wet. Warm. Tongue swirling around the veins of his dick. He tried to speak. To tell him how good he was. How perfect he was sucking him off, but all the came out of his mouth was,

"Nyuh! Aghhhhhh! Ohhhhhh! Oh! OHHH! OHHH! Sheeeuhhhh!"

Tony continued sucking his cock, his head moving up and down. Around and around, breathing hard through his nose. Clint's penis was covered in Tony's saliva, making it sopping wet. Clint couldn't remember the last time somebody sucked his dick this good. Never! Oh my god, never! The tip of his cock bumped against the back of Tony's throat, and Clint reached down and grabbed the top of Tony's hair. He pulled so hard that he was worried he might rip some of it out. Tony, unphased, continued working his magic, and Clint's stomach muscles tightened. He felt the familiar series of contractions in his cock, and Clint's face twisted. This felt so fucking good! So hard! So wet! He clenched his teeth together, his hand still bunching Tony's hair.

"Oh gyah! To- To- To," Clint tried his best to say Tony's name, but he did nothing except keep speaking in tongues.

"Mmmhhmmmm. Uh huh. Uh huh. " he heard Tony mumble, his dick fully enveloping Tony's talker.

The vibrations in Tony's throat sent him over the edge. No going back. No going back!

"Ohhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-!"

Clint whined like a small child and bent forward, his orgasm finally taking him over. He squirted long and hard into Tony's mouth, his spurting eruptions almost feeling painful with their long overdue release. Tony only laughed, Clint's cock still in his mouth as he swallowed every drop. Seeing Tony like that drove Clint wild and made him shoot a second wave. A third.

Tony continued to swallow, his mouth sucking and contracting hard on the hilt of Clint's crotch. Clint gasped for air like a fish out of water. It was as if all of the anger and frustration he was holding inside left his body in spades. It was too much. He let go of Tony's hair and gently pushed his face off of him, shivering as the air hit his hypersensitive cock. Clint's eyes rolled up. His legs felt like jelly and he slid down the wall, sitting firmly on the floor. Breathing hitching. Body trembling. Slick wet cock lying on the ground. Oh my fucking god. I can't- I can't move. Tony, who was still on his knees, licked his lips and crawled forward in between Clint's legs.

"Feeling better, Clyde?" he asked, his voice low.

Clint could barely keep up a coherant thought right now, let alone speak. Still breathing hard, Clint gave a simple nod. Tony crawled further, bringing his lips to Clint's. They kissed again, this time slower. More tender, like his kisses with Natasha. Clint chuckled into their kiss. Their mouths tasted like semen and pineapple, a tasty mix of sweet and salty. Clint was glad this happened. He felt like he was on a natural high and he closed his eyes when Tony softly pulled their lips apart.

"I know it's the middle of the day but, fuck it, right? Wanna get outta here?" Tony asked.

Clint opened his eyes. Tony was looking at him, biting on his lip and raising his eyebrows. Clint still wasn't able to speak, but he gave a warm chuckle and another nod. Tony firmly grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. Clint slowly pulled his shorts and boxers back up, smiling at Tony the entire time. Tony grabbed Clint's shoulders and gave him another chaste kiss. Clint licked his lower lip and Tony grabbed his wrist, leaving the restroom with him.

Clint would always have Natasha. She would remain his partner forever, but Clint finally came to terms with what just happened; he was compromised. And it no longer felt like the end of the world.

A/N: The body never lies, right? Well followers, the conclusion is next! I think you'll like it! ;)