Title: Answering the Call of Duty
Challenge #: #21
Fandom/Original: The Avengers (2012)
Genre (slash/het/gen/etc): Slash
It should never be easy to say goodbye.
Tony walked up behind the man gazing out the windows of his tower and cleared his throat. “So, this is going to be a big change.”
The figure in front of the windows just shrugged. The motion was loose and easy, muscles moving freely over bone. “Change comes every day, Mr. stark.”
Tony tried not to growl at that response. “I took you back from SHIELD. Fair and square, no lie. Fury can kiss our asses.”
Coulson slanted an amused look at him and the Were huffed. The amused look spread into a rare grin and he shook his head at the billionaires antics. “No matter what you told Fury, Stark, I am not a collectable.”
“Do I look like I think you are?” Stark asked acidly. “I just don’t trust him not to break you again. That and you said that none of us can come with you for backup.”
“You’ve learned the concept of backup?” Coulson asked carefully eyebrow crawling up his brow.
“Sometimes,” Stark admitted. “But I wear a really spiffy bulletproof suit and you don’t. Unless D&G has come out with something new this year?”
“No matter what Clint says, I do not have a suit of immortality,” Coulson sighed.
“Speaking of Clint, aka the Purple Passion, is he going with you?”
The wince was in no way hidden to that volley. “No. He isn’t.”
Tony looked at one of the men he respected most and shook his head. “He is going to freak out at you and make your life miserable.”
Sighing, Coulson shrugged and then nodded. “I know. But Fury asked me to take this over and get this whole thing started.”
Stark looked at him in surprise and then nodded. “If you say so. I would prefer it if you brought a relay for JARVIS so he can tie in to where you are. And something to let us know when you need backup.”
Coulson looked resigned before he nodded. “I can easily do the relay. The comms device is doable to since it will be another layer of backup. Why are you so set on this?”
Tony fought not to growl and completely give his hand away. He had gotten used to having Agent around running interference between his Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s goons. While his pack was small, they were normally somewhere nearby where he could lay his hands on them quickly. Fury walking back into his territory to steal one of his people was incredibly unwelcome. To the point where he was fighting the urge to deal with the interfering bastard.
The other man turned towards him and stared him in the eye. He liked that about Agent, he wasn’t afraid to look the superheroes he worked with in the eye and push. “Tony. Tell me.”
The growl he had been fighting slipped out and Coulson watched him calmly. All of the Avengers knew what he was by now. There had been no way to hide the secret of how fast he really did heal and his relationship with Steve. Once the secret was in the open, they had spent an afternoon asking questions before the subject was dropped, for the most part. Tony had even gotten a chance to do a DNA work up on Barton and everyone else.
The archer was exactly what Tony expected him to be. A single side carrier of the genetic sequence that allowed a Were to shift into their alternate form. If Clint had gotten the sequence from both of his parents he more than likely would have shifted as a baby.
Tony had no idea what would have happened to the archer if he had. If nothing else, his life would have been vastly different.
“You are part of my Pack. And you are leaving to go do something where none of us will be there to back you up. I won’t be able to check up on you as easily as I do now. Plus, I don’t trust the doctors at S.H.I.E.L.D.”
”I won’t be gone forever, Stark. I agreed to help get the new group off the ground and then I’ll be back to help manage the Avengers again. Besides, I am still, nominally at least, a part of S.H.I.E.L.D,” Coulson tried to soothe.
“Would you please stop managing me?” Tony asked wryly.
“When you stop fussing like an over protective mother hen,” Coulson returned cheerfully.
“Not going to happen. Guess I need to get used to it then,” Tony shrugged and clapped a hand on Coulson’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your staring out the window.”
Taking a deep breath, the Were looked at his friend again and left him to his contemplation of New York. The walk out of the room showed Barton was standing in the shadows by the door. The archer nodded at him and Tony patted him on one arm, turning our responsibility for Agent to his lover. Maybe he would have better luck.
“I am not thrilled about you going out into the field without us either,” he heard Clint say as he walked down the hall towards Steve. “I do however, understand why you are willing to do so. Doesn’t mean that I won’t swing by occasionally to check upon you.”
Coulson shrugged in response. There was nothing he could say that would make things better. ”Fury called. And in this, I can’t not respond.”
“And you answered the call of duty. Just like you always do,” Clint agreed. He knew Phil would have been happier if the archer had shown some emotion in his voice, but there was nothing. “I have never been thrilled about what you are willing to do for him. But I get that you aren’t doing this just for Fury, so I know that I can’t talk you out of it. I just want you to be careful, because neither Nat nor I will be there to back you up.”
He could see that his words were hitting his partner. Coulson wasn’t a man who could turn his back on his duty and this was indeed a duty. There was no one else at S.H.I.E.L.D. that they currently trusted to handle a new batch of superheroes. The call to arms had come and like any good soldier, the older man had pulled his arms out of their resting place and manned up. Clint was mature enough to let him go without having a screaming fit over it. Well, having one out loud at least.
“Some of the people involved with me are ones we trained,” Phil said tiredly. Clint ignored the tired tone with long practice. If his partner wanted to call attention to his energy levels, he would say so.
“Okay, I concede that they might be helpful,” Clint agreed wryly. He was moderately happy that they were going to be there to back him up. Coulson was fully healed from Loki’s spear through the chest, but his endurance levels were taking more time to come back to normal. And given his personality, he wouldn’t be showing any weakness in front of the junior agents. Hopefully, one of the little dears would put two and two together and get four, not fifty-eight like Phil would try to snow them into accepting.
”It is,” Coulson agreed with a nod.
The archer moved forward again and wrapped his arms around his agent. “I am going to miss you,” he murmured into the ear nearest his mouth. “Let me take you to bed so I can rock your world?”
Phil leaned back against him and then nodded. They both knew that while he was on this mission, their chances of getting together would be slim. With the best chance being another end of the world type deal. Clint knew that all too well.
The trip to their bedroom was silent, but it was also comfortable. Clint pulled Phil into his arms once they were in their in room, and pressed him against the wall. Kissing the slightly shorter man, Barton drew back for a brief moment to murmur in his ear. “Take your clothes off,” his voice was deeper here, more growl than he let out on a day to day basis. All because of his partner.
The tips of Phil’s ears turned a deep pink at his tone and he nudged his hips forward to move him out of the way.
Clint stepped back and took his own clothes off, paying more attention to the form of his partner. Coulson wasn’t quite as bulky as he had been before his stabbing, but he was getting his muscle tone back. The scar from the spear was still a darker slash against his skin and the flush from his arousal was making it even darker.
The archer piled his clothes on a chair and smiled as Coulson carefully draped his suit over the back of another. Clint dropped to his knees in front of his mate and ran his hands up the strong legs before him. Leaning forward Barton kissed the lowest edge of the scar before laying a line of kisses down the line of hair to the pubic bone.
Coulson’s cock was starting to rise and nudge against his chin. Smiling slightly at the feeling, Clint dipped his head and curled his tongue around the head to draw it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored the flavor. Rich, bitter and earthy, he loved giving Phil head for this taste alone.
Long fingers combed through his hair as he slowly moved up and down the shaft in his mouth. As he sank down again, the fingers in his hair tightened and he relaxed the muscles of his throat to allow the head to pop in and he swallowed.
There was a long drawn out moan over his head and Clint purred his satisfaction and the moan became a yelp at the vibrations. Over and over, he moved up and down Coulson’s cock, savoring the tang of precum as it leaked in a thin stream out his slit. Clint ran his hands up and down Phil’s legs and gripped his ass tightly as he felt the tremor of an impending orgasm. There was a faint swell to the cock in his mouth just before Coulson shouted as the surge hit and he hunched over in an effort not to thrust.
Barton held still through each shudder and aftershock, carefully swallowing each burst. When the hands that had been buried in his hair moved to his shoulders and patted them carefully, he pulled off. Coulson’s cock was starting to go soft and he rested his head against the older man’s hip, breathing deeply.
“I want you to fuck me,” the words rumbled out of Phil’s mouth in a blurred and wrecked tone.
Clint didn’t say anything, just turned his head to carefully suck a lovers mark onto the sharp edge of the older man’s hip.
The cock by his cheek twitched and Clint hummed in appreciation. He adored making love to Phil and if his partner had wanted that, the gentle breakdown and tip over into orgasm, that would have been what he asked for. By asking to get fucked (a totally deliberate turn of phrase), Coulson wanted it hard, rough and a little mean.
Clint was more than willing to give his partner what he wanted.
“Lay down on the bed. Face down,” he murmured roughly. Clint stayed kneeling where he was, trying to fight his arousal. They so rarely pushed things this far now that he was fighting for control before he had even slid home in Phil’s ass.
The rustle of their bed linens stopped at the same time as the creaks from their bed and Clint tilted his head to listen to how his partner was breathing. The rhythm of his breaths were even and there were no hitches, no hesitations on either the innate or exhale. Something in Clint relaxed as he heard his mate breathing easily.
Once he was sure that he had his control in a stronger grip, Clint stood and walked across the expanse of bedroom that Stark had given them. His steps were quiet, and yet Phil’s had heard him anyway, turning his head slightly to keep an eye on him. The archer wasn’t worried. Phil was almost always on guard, but the muscles of his back were loose and relaxed.
When he knelt on the bed, his partner signed and carefully, teasingly, spread his legs wide. Long, trim legs that led to up to an amazing ass. Placing his hands on Coulson’s ankles, Clint ran them up the back of those long limbs and paused to rub this thumbs at the join of his knees to thighs before circling that amazing ass and squeezing. Barton rubbed his face against the back of one long thigh and clenched his teeth against the tendon running towards a knee. The muscles under his lips tensed and he grinned before sucking a dark bruise into the pale skin. Coulson moaned in time to the sucks and the archer sat back, satisfied. The mark was very dark and would last for days.
He decided to leave a path of marks on Coulson, one leading to the next. Sucking marks large and small up the back of the older man’s legs, he had a line of lover’s bites following the tendons of the legs fairly quickly. He ran his thumbs down the marks and pressed on the center of each one. From the way Coulson’s back tensed and then relaxed, Clint was quite sure he was enjoying himself.
“You are gorgeous like this. All spread out for me to enjoy,” he murmured. Clint roughly massaged the muscles under his hands and then spread the cheeks of Coulson’s ass before nipping sharply at the highest point of muscle and moving on. When it came to intercourse, most of the time Clint preferred to be the one on the receiving end, his need for control turned over to his partner. Tonight, it was more fun to be the one driving his partner insane.
Clint had made it a policy of his, when he and Phil had gotten together, that he was always going to treat his partner with respect. When they had gotten Coulson… back, he was so grateful he had almost passed out. Then Natasha had sat on him to keep him from plucking out Fury’s other eye (he wasn’t really picky how). He still wasn’t thrilled with her for that, but he was working on being a better person about it.
So Phil’s request to get fucked was… a true test of his control. Because for all the respect he had showed his mate before their lives had been upended, they had really enjoyed a good jungle fuck.
“You are a very bad man, Agent Coulson,” he murmured into the skin under his lips.
“Shut up and come fuck me, Agent Barton,” was Phil’s tart reply, muffled only by the pillow he was resting on. The expression on his face was full of bland innocence and Clint struggled not to laugh. Phil was no more innocent than he was. Less in fact.
”At your command,” Clint muttered as he nipped his way up to his mates shoulders. There was so much to look at and he had no idea where he wanted to start. Reaching down, he ran his nails up the back of the older man’s legs, relishing the feel of strong muscles bunching and relaxing under his skin.
When Phil spread his legs further, he had to move back to kneel between the spread limbs. Coulson was very limber and it showed in how far he could stretch out the position. From the angle he was sitting at, Clint could see the older man’s asshole, perineum and balls. There was even a hint of his cock.
Barton felt his mouth water like it had when he had had sucked his dick. “You always have the best ideas,” Clint said happily before he laid down between Coulson’s spread thighs and started to lick.
Burying his face between the cheeks of the ass before him, he feasted on the furled bud in front of him. Musky and dark, the flavors he was tasting were a darker, more concentrated versa of what he got when he explored the rest of the man. Barton shifted slightly and used one hand to wage give himself a bit Mormon to work.
From the way Phil was squirming, Clint was certain he was enjoying himself. When he wiggled his other hand down to check, he found his partner was mostly hard again. Humming in contentment, he firmed up the muscles of his tongue and instead of playing with the outer folds, slowly pushed his way inside the movement of Phil’ hips got sharper and his ears caught the ends of a pillow muffled moan.
Pulling his tongue back into his mouth to swallow, Clint grinned. God, he loved making his partner fall apart. He gave the cock in his hand a firm stroke before pulling away to tickle the edges of Phil’s asshole. The sound of another moan reached his ears as in partner shifted onto his knees. Phil’s legs were still widely spread, but his cock now had room to swing and wasn’t rubbing against their sheets, Clint took in the sight before him with a rough chuckle and sat up on his heels. He wasn’t finished eating Coulson out, but he wanted some slick to make the slide of his fingers easier. A quick lean over to his bedside table and he had the bottle of the stuff they preferred. His motions were quick and efficient as he got his fingers coated. A quite brief squeeze on Coulson’s ass and he went back to what he had been doing. Taking his partner apart one lick at a time.
Thankfully neither of them had forgotten to stock the edible lube, because doing this with the regular stuff wasn’t as much fun. His tongue caught the edges of the flavor as he moved around and into the furled pucker before him. The groans he was looking for were coming steadily and he was moving with Coulson as he rocked back in forth onto his fingers.
The only reason he stopped was the telltale tensing that denoted Phil’s organ. Clint poured more lube over his fingers and worked the slick stuff into Coulson’s ass before he sat back and coated his cock. Hissing at the feet of oily fingers on his dick, he made short work of getting slick. Most of the stuff stayed on his hard flesh and he made sure to wipe his hand on the towel Phil had placed on the bed, just for that. Sex was fun and wonderful, but there was no way he was going to compromise his grip for long.
He was careful when he lined up the head of his cock against the loose muscles of Phil’s ass to not smear too much of the stuff around. Once past the guardian muscles, he paused to take a deep breath before he bottomed out, his hips flush against his partners ass. Clint took a deep breath and counted the different types of explosive arrowheads he normally carried in an effort not to cum. He was going to make sure that Phil felt this while he set up his newest job.
When he was calm enough not to cum if he moved, he ran his hands down Phil’s back and cupped his hips before pulling his cock out of the snug spot it was in. The whine of protest from his lover was sweet to hear. The deep moan when he snapped his hips forward and drove his cock back into him was better though. Clint decided he needed to hear more moans like that and kept up the pace.
Long slow glides out and quick jabs to his prostate in and he watched as Phil started to come apart at the seams. When he heard the first hitch in his partners breathing, he stopped. The high pitched moan of protest was flattering, but the way his cock was being gripped by Coulson’s ass? Clint knew he was going to be paying for being a dick tease at a later date, but he was having fun.
When his partner wasn’t so obviously close to the edge, he took a deep breath and changed the cadence of his thrusts. Instead of long, slow withdraws and quick jabbing inserts, he went for hard deep thrusts that nevertheless managed to tag Coulson’s prostate each and every time. Clint could tell his dedication to hitting his target was appreciated because Phil clenched down on him at every thrust in and he was moaning better than any porn tape ever made.
When the moans rose in pitch again, Clint knew he was on track. Reaching around, he palmed Phil’s neglected cock and started stroking it in counterpoint to what his hips were doing. While he was doing that, he made sure to nip and mark every bit of his Agent’s back that he could. The only spots he was careful of were the ones that would show over a suit and tie.
Because Coulson was his and by God if he was going to go work for Fury again, he would carry Clint’s marks on him before he left. From the way Phil was reacting, Barton could tell he didn’t mind. He sped his hips up a bit more, pushing his cock as deep into his lover as he could.
The moans that had been hearing from Phil spiraled up at that into something that vaguely resembled a scream as he started to come apart under him.
Clint let his head rest against the broad back before him and kept his hips moving. The burn of his orgasm was crawling up and down his spine and he was keeping it was away by force of will alone. He could feel the ripples of Phil’s pleasure get stronger and then he locked up as his cock fully seated itself in his ass. Clint whined as his brain tried to exit out his dick and tried to remember to not squeeze the life out of the cock in his hand.
The spasms that ran through him finally petered out and Clint pulled his hand out from under Phil. Lifting his head from where it had been resting on the older man’s shoulder, the archer cheeked his partner. His breath was even and he had a content half smile on his face as relaxed into the mattress.
Clint smiled and carefully withdrew his spent cock from the spot he most loved to park it. Only because he because he was watching, did he see the faint pout of discontentment on Coulson’s face as he pulled out. “If you feel that strongly about it, I can get you a plug.”
“Mhmm, nope,” the words were slightly slurred, but Clint understood them well enough.
“You sure?” he asked quietly as he sat up and moved off the bed. When Phil didn’t immediately shift out of the wet spot, he ran one hand down the other man’s spine. From the laxness of his muscles, he was almost asleep.
He waited a beat and there was no reply. Clint rolled, ungracefully, off the bed, and made his way to the en suite. Or to be more realistic the insanely over the top bathroom that Stark had installed. The sauna was useful after missions, and the urinal was just practical for a guy, but a 6×6 foot multi jet shower room? That had its own mood lighting and music? Insane. The tub was just as bad and the less said about the toilet the better. The last time he had seen one that smart, he had been in Japan. He wasn’t thrilled with the levels of monitoring it suggested that Stark indulged in.
Clint took care of his after sex clean up and resolutely ignored the splendor of the room he was in to grab a washcloth and wet it down with warm water. He grabbed a second body towel off the warming rack and carried both back into the bedroom. Phil hadn’t moved and Clint felt a brief glow of smugness as he saw that. His hands were gentle as he cleaned the older man up and a quick check of his asshole showed the while the hole was deeply pink, it wasn’t torn.
Once that was done, he lobbed the wet cloth at the basket they used for things like that and carefully rolled the older man over to place the towel under him. No way did he want Coulson to wake up in the wet spot and he sure wasn’t going to take it.
Aftercare done, Clint crawled back into bed with Phil and snuggled close before flipping the covers over them both. A quick check of the basket showed the washcloth had made it and he was done.
“Lights out, please.”
God he was going to miss this.
48 Hours later.
“Just so you know, Nick, this isn’t forever,” Phil said announced calmly. He was standing in front of his old boss and he planned on staying standing. Clint had been very… firm in his goodbye lovemaking several times, and his ass was paying for the fun he had had. Not that Phil would have done anything differently, but still.
”I didn’t think it was,” Nick Fury agreed with a casual shrug. Phil didn’t believe him, but… “Just until the unit gets off the ground and you can train someone to take your place in it.”
Coulson snorted. Right. “Until then,” he said as he turned on his heel, before he started for the door.
“Might want to tell Barton he can’t maul you before you head out though.” Fury observed.
Phil flashed his… boss a sharp edged smile over his shoulder. “No, I really can’t.”
After all, Clint hadn’t been the only one to get interesting news from the genetic testing they had done.