Winterhawk Writing

22

"Alright, alright..." Natasha says, holding up one finger. "Never have I ever... orgasmed so hard I blacked out."
"That's targeting!" Clint stands up abruptly. "You know that happened to me in Budapest!"
Bucky, having expected zero people to put a finger down, stares at Clint in shock. Steve's mouth has dropped open and the contemplative look on Tony's face says he has no plans of letting this go.
"I'm sorry, can we back up a bit?" Tony asks. "Birdbrain, what type of sex are you having?"
"That's not important," Clint waves him off and jabs a finger towards Nat again. "Nat's targeting and we all agreed against that."
"I kinda feel like it's important," Tony argues.
"I'm sorry- Clint, you blacked out?" Steve asks, eyebrows drawn close together. "Were you being choked or something?"
"Ew no, that is not something I could ever get off to," Clint shakes his head.
"I'm just curious what types of techniques Clint has been hiding from all of us." Tony leans forward. "So was it because of your partner or something you were doing?"
Clint crosses his arms, glaring briefly at Nat. "If I answer can we drop it and not mention it ever again?"
"Sure, for the rest of the night." Tony says flippantly.
"Ever again," Clint says firmly. "I was... alone, and it was just a little hand technique I've figured out." He shrugs, ears bright red.
"Just a little hand technique... that makes you black out?" Tony asks slowly.
"It's not really blacking out, it's just, like, so intense your brain feels like it short circuits. If that makes sense," Clint finishes in a mumble. "Okay! Never have I ever worked for the KGB!"
"Whoa, whoa, what happened to no targeting!" Nat throws her arms up at the same time Bucky does.

The next time Bucky's in the same room with Clint, the Archer has him pinned on the couch as he ravages Bucky's throat. Bucky glides a hand into Clint's messy hair and tugs him back.
"Hey," Clint says through swollen lips and a filthy grin.
"I want you to do the thing," Bucky says, fighting the blush on his cheeks.
"What thing- ohhhh," Clint's eyebrows shoot up and somehow his filthy grin gets filthier. "You sure, babe? It's intense."
Bucky rolls his eyes and gives Clint's hair another tug. "Yes, and get that look off of your face, you look depraved."
"Yes, sir," Clint says dutifully,  and gets to work shoving Bucky's pants down.

"Bucky? Oh fuck. Bucky, come on."
Bucky groans and turns his face away from the finger prodding his cheek. "Holy shit."
"I thought you died!" Clint is sitting on his hips. "I thought I killed you with a handjob!"
Bucky blinks and grins slowly. His body feels lax and warm and there's still small waves of pleasure rolling through him. "Fuck, Clint that was amazing."
"Well too bad, I'm never doing it again. You were out for a solid minute, Buck!" Clint crosses his arms.
"Mm," Bucky reaches up and wraps a hand around the back of Clint's neck, tugging him down for a slow kiss.
Clint responds slowly, relaxing into it more once he's decided Bucky's OK.
"You're gonna have to show me how to do that," Bucky pulls back a little.
"No, I like doing it to you," Clint mumbles and captures his lips again.