Break

AN: Before we begin, let me just say that this was inspired by a spontaneous RP session, in which my Clint was sulking up on the roof because of Reasons, and my partner's Loki decided to be his usual charming self and bribe him down with the promise of sex. This is the continuation of that RP session, which was concluded in my dreams that night. Also, hanging around Clint has made Loki a pottymouth.

 

AN2: I now have a Tumblr account, it's linked in my profile. Come check it out, if you like.

 

    “Is this what you wanted?” Clint panted into Loki’s ear. He felt long, tapered fingers clench into a fist around his own as the pale body writhed beneath him. He twined his fingers tighter around Loki’s, holding both of his hands above his head as the fingers of his other hand stroked the demigod’s rigid cock. “You wanted me in your bed, right? Just like this?”



    Loki bit back a moan at the gravely tone in Clint’s voice, his hips canting up to thrust into the tight hollow of his Hawk’s fist. “Yes,” he hissed. “Just… like… this…” He gasped at the feel of teeth sinking into the tender flesh of his earlobe, followed by harsh suckling that was sure to leave marks.



    Clint pulled back to stare down into Loki’s flushed face and dilated eyes. It always gave him a thrill to see the effect he could have on someone normally so calm and in control of themselves; to see Loki naked, panting and hard beneath him, wanting to be there, practically begging for him…



    He changed the rhythm of his stroking to massage just the very tip of Loki’s cock, and couldn’t help but feel smug satisfaction at the sudden widening of those lust-glazed eyes before they rolled back and fell closed in bliss. His mouth fell open on a soundless moan as he spread his legs wider and thrust his hips entirely from the bed. Clint pulled back just enough to keep the same steady rhythm, to the trickster’s infinite frustration. His harsh panting and the wet sounds of Clint’s hand moving over his leaking arousal were the only sounds in the room.



    A frustrated groan left Loki’s throat when his thrusts proved futile. Clint leaned down to the ear he had been abusing moments earlier.



    “You want something else?” He lengthened his stroke on the next pass and got a choked gasp in return.



    Loki opened his eyes and gazed up at his sniper, looking down at him with the same kind of focus he showed his targets. He could only bite his lip and nod as another stroke to the head of his cock caused his whole body to shudder.



    “Then tell me,” Clint whispered down at him. “You remember what you said on the roof, don’t you? First I’m gonna make you beg,” he squeezed his fist around the head of Loki’s cock and twisted a cry from his throat, “then I’m gonna make you scream.”



    “Oh yes,” Loki gasped. “Make me scream for you, my Hawk. Don’t hold back, give me everything.”



    Clint’s lip curled. “That doesn’t sound like begging. Sounds more like an order.” His hand left the hard, aching flesh between Loki’s thighs and brought his fingers to the panting mouth. Without even being prompted, he took them into his mouth and sucked, tasting himself as he swirled his tongue over and between each knuckle.



    “Get ‘em nice and wet,” Clint growled. “You know what’s comin’.”



    Loki couldn’t help it; his eyes rolled back and he moaned with renewed arousal at the dark promise in those words. He made sure the fingers in his mouth were bathed well before they were pulled out. His eyes stayed locked with his Hawk’s as he felt those wet fingers trailing down, past his throbbing length, over the tightening skin of his balls, to stroke the sensitive flesh just before his opening. His mouth fell open on a harsh pant at the feeling of sudden pressure against the tight ring of muscle.



    But the fingers never entered him. The pressure stayed just light enough to tease, but not breach. Loki’s hips moved against them, almost against his will, but Clint was right there to keep what he wanted just out of reach. His fingers. still entwined with Clint’s, squeezed into frustrated fists, unmindful of the fact that he could grind the mortal’s bones to powder if he wasn’t careful.



    Instead, Clint just smirked down at him.



    “Stubborn beast,” Loki rasped in a voice rough as sandpaper. He gasped when one finger pushed slightly deeper, nearly entering him.



    “Be nice,” Clint scolded, rubbing circles against the pulsing flesh. “You’ll get what you want, when I get what I want.” That same finger pressed in again, slightly deeper. He leaned in closer, until he could feel Loki’s panting breaths against his skin. “Beg for me, and you’ll get it all. Every fucking inch, as deep inside you as I can get.” He ground his own hard cock against Loki’s hip. “You’ll scream so loud, they’ll hear you back in Asgard.”



    Loki’s whole body arched off the bed at those words, a wanton moan falling from his open mouth. His Hawk had such a way with words.



    “So you liked hearing that, did you?” Clint’s fingers pushed just a little more, until he was slowly sinking into Loki’s tight, clenching heat. “How I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop?”



    Fingers thrusting, stretching, seeking. Loki writhed beneath him, taking in shuddering breaths and letting them out as ragged moans. Clint’s steel-blue gaze drank in every tiny flicker of emotion that passed over his face, until the ache between his legs grew too intense to ignore. He twisted his fingers deeper and knew he found his target when he felt Loki’s entire body grow rigid as his cock was, trapped between the two of them.



    “You have to beg me to start before you can beg me to stop,” he said, fingers lightly stroking the small spot he’d found. Loki trembled under his touch, feeling his defenses crumbling under the onslaught of sensation.



    “I- ahh!- n-need to feel you, my Hawk,” Loki gasped. “I want to feel you inside me.”



    “I am inside you,” Clint said, thrusting his fingers deeper, harder. “You’ll have to be more specific.”



    “Damn you, Barton!” Loki snarled. “Fuck me, you insolent brat!”



    “Is that what they call begging where you come from?” He changed the angle of his fingers just slightly, causing Loki to hiss a breath between clenched teeth. His hips stuttered between pushing against the fingers and twisting away from the teasing pressure. Clint followed his movements relentlessly.



    It was too much, he couldn’t hold out any longer, not with those fingers and that voice and those eyes staring down at him just waiting for him to break.



    “Please,” he gasped. “Clint, please fuck me.”



    Clint growled, a low, gravely sound pulled from deep in his gut, and ground his cock hard against Loki’s hip at the same time he gave the god’s prostate a firm stroke. “Louder,” he ordered. “Tell me how much you want it.”



    “Ah! Please! I want you, my Hawk. Take me, now. Please!” A shudder wracked through his body as the lowering of his pride caused his pulse to race even faster. No one else would hear him like this, only his Hawk, who looked down at him with an arrogant smirk. And why shouldn’t he feel arrogant? He’d just reduced a God to begging.



    Clint leaned down to Loki’s ear, warm breath washing over the bruised lobe, and whispered. “Yes, sir.”



    Loki ripped his wrists from Clint’s grip and buried his fingers in short brown hair to pull that smug, arrogant mouth down on his own. It was too savage to be called a proper kiss, all thrashing tongues and gnashing teeth. Clint let him have his way for a few moments before ripping his mouth away, Loki’s teeth dragging at his lower lip to the point of nearly drawing blood. He pushed himself off of Loki’s body to kneel between the trickster’s spread thighs and took in the debauched picture he painted across the sheets. The normally pale skin was flushed, the muscles of his torso heaving with the panting breaths pulled between kiss-swollen lips.



    Clint’s fingers were still buried deep inside of him, still stroking in that maddeningly teasing rhythm, and Loki shifted his hips in a way he knew would tempt Clint into finishing what he started. He no longer cared about his pride, he’d tossed that aside when he’d surrendered to his Hawk’s talented hands.



    “You move like a whore, you know that?” Clint’s fingers stroked harder, stretched him wider. His cock twitched at the way Loki’s hips bucked against him.



    “Oh, I am more than willing to be your whore, my Hawk,” Loki gasped, tightening himself around Clint’s fingers just to see the flicker of heat in his eyes. “Now take me.”



    Clint bared his teeth in a snarl and pulled his fingers from Loki’s body, hands going to those wanton hips in a bruising grip. He pulled Loki into his lap, legs spread wide to either side of him, and stared down at the god splayed across the sheets, gazing up at him with open lust. It was only fair, he supposed, after being begged so nicely, to give him what he wanted.



    A few strokes of his own arousal with a spit-slicked palm was more than enough to get him ready, and he lined himself up with Loki’s opening while keeping that sniper’s gaze locked with glazed poison-green. He held his body over Loki’s, one hand braced against the sheets beside his face, while the other held his cock steady as he slowly sank into tight heat. Loki’s hands came up to grip at whatever he could find; one hand gripped the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck, while the other wrapped around the bicep of his bracing arm, fingers digging into the straining muscles hard enough to leave bruises. His breathing hitched each time Clint pressed in further, inch by slow, steady inch. He was writhing by the time he was fully seated, Clint’s hips resting against his own, trapping his aching cock between them.



    “Yes, my Hawk,” he praised, bucking his hips to gain blessed friction against their stomachs. “You are always so very thorough when you claim me.”



    “You said you wanted everything,” Clint reminded him. “So now you’re gonna get it.” He pushed forward, pulling Loki’s hips into him with one hand while keeping himself steady with the other. With the way Loki moaned and bucked up against him, he figured it was safe to finally get down to the business of making the god scream for him.



    He really shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still caught Loki off guard when Clint pulled back, nearly all the way, before slamming back inside. The headboard of the bed slammed into the wall behind, but neither heard it over the moan Loki let loose at the sudden pounding. The hand clutching Clint’s hair tightened, giving an appreciative tug, and that was all the prompting he needed.



    Loki’s nails raked down his arm as he began to thrust; long, drawn-out pulls before slamming back home with bone-jarring force. Clint might have been gentler if he didn’t already know the demigod could take it, and so he didn’t hold back for Loki’s sake. His hips would be bruised tomorrow, and he would have more scratch-marks to cover up, but it would be worth it. It was always worth it to see how undone Loki became when he was inside him.



    “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked, grinding his hips on his next thrust.



    Loki’s head pushed back against the mattress, teeth clenched and neck straining to keep his moans in check. His hand left its nest in Clint’s hair to drag his nails down the strong, broad back, pulling their torsos together. His eyes blazed up into Clint’s with a feral heat; rather than be intimidated, Clint just thrust harder, deeper, and gave the other man exactly what he said he would - every. Fucking. Inch.



    “You always know what I want,” Loki breathed against his mouth. “Now make me take it. Make me scream for you.”



    Clint’s hand left Loki’s hip and wrapped around his straining cock, still trapped between their bodies, gripping tight enough to feel the harsh, throbbing pulse. Loki shouted toward the ceiling, nails digging into Clint’s back, drawing blood. Clint gasped at the sting and gave the flesh in his hand a harsh tug. The writhing of the body below him was reward enough, especially when the muscles wrapped around his own cock clenched almost to the point of pain. The headboard made a harsh, pounding tattoo against  the wall as his thrusts sped up even more, his eyes never leaving Loki’s face.



    It was almost too much. Clint could feel himself getting close, but too soon; he wasn’t quite ready to get off just yet, and he knew the god could take a hell of a lot more than this. He slowed his thrusts until he came to rest buried balls-deep, keeping a tight hold on Loki’s cock as awareness slowly crept back into his eyes. Loki looked up at him questioningly, almost pleadingly.



    “Getting tired, Barton?” he asked, a lopsided smirk crossing his face. Clint mirrored it with one of his own.



    “You wish,” he said, lifting himself up until he was kneeling once more between spread thighs. He pulled back and out of the smothering heat of Loki’s ass and tried to ignore the almost-but-not-quite whimper he heard from below. “Turn over, and get that ass up. We’re not done until you’re begging me to stop.”



    He couldn’t help it; the lecherous grin nearly split Loki’s face in half. He knew there was a reason he decided to keep his Hawk around after the thrall had dissipated. Barton was never this much fun as a mindless puppet.



    He didn’t so much turn over as he let Clint manhandle him onto his stomach. He himself may be a God among the mortals of this realm, but Barton was still able to toss him around like a ragdoll when he chose. It gave the rogue Asgardian a secret thrill to be dominated in those small, subtle ways. Clint’s hands played over his body as if he owned it, tugging his hips up just so, and pressing his chest into the mattress to keep him still when he tried shifting into a more comfortable position.



    “Stay there. Don’t you fucking move,” Clint ordered, his hands spreading the cheeks of Loki’s ass. His cock twitched at the sight; it clearly knew where it belonged and was impatient to go back. He straddled Loki’s thighs and pressed himself against the waiting opening. He growled at the motion of Loki’s hips pressing back against him. It seemed his cock wasn’t the only impatient one.



    “Mounting me like the beast you are, Barton?”



    Loki hissed at the scratch of Clint’s nails down his back, then moaned at the tingling heat left in their wake. The sudden tug to his hair made him cry out as his head was pulled back harshly. He panted at the headboard and strained to keep himself upright against the unforgiving grip, hands sliding along the sheets and finding little purchase.



    “Shut up,” Clint hissed into his ear. “You asked for this, remember? I don’t want to hear another word out of you unless you’re screaming my name.”



    Another harsh tug emphasized his words, and then he was sliding back inside the waiting body, which welcomed him back as if he’d never left. He released Loki’s hair and let him flop back to the bed in a heap, hands going instead to grip the god’s biceps. His forehead fell between Loki’s shoulders and he panted against the sweat-slick skin of his back as he let his hips move unchecked, pounding his lust and frustrations of earlier into the willing body below him.



    Loki ground his face into the mattress, mouth open in a soundless series of cries as he felt the archer’s cock stabbing into him with ruthless precision. He didn’t know if it was by accident or design, but Clint was hitting his spot on nearly every thrust, and it gave him no time to catch his breath or brace for the next shock of pleasure. It was only when Clint gave a particularly harsh thrust that he was able to draw in a breath, only to let it out in a hoarse shout at the sudden feel of teeth on his shoulder. His hands clenched into fists, gripping the sheets with white knuckles as the pressure at the base of his spine grew. His cock, trapped between his own body and the bed, was steadily leaking into the sheets.



    When Clint began growling into his ear, Loki knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. His lungs felt like they were on fire with how little air he was able to pull into them; Clint was literally fucking the breath out of him. Dimly, he wondered if it were possible to be fucked to death.



    Clint seemed to take mercy on him, slowing his hips long enough for Loki to draw in a few shaky breaths. Instead of picking up his pace of earlier, however, he began to grind his hips in slow circles. Loki raised his face from the mattress, staring at the headboard with unseeing eyes as he felt that cock so deep inside rubbing against every spot it could reach, spots Loki himself didn’t even know existed. All he could feel was the rigid length inside and Clint’s panting breaths against his skin.



    “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Clint said into his ear. “Taking my cock, like a fucking whore. My whore.” A harsh thrust straight to his prostate caught Loki off-guard after being so focused on Clint’s words. The combination nearly caused him to come right then, but he held himself back somehow. A sharp cry escaped his throat at the sudden jarring pleasure, which only made Clint want to hear it again. “Take it,” he growled, pulling the sensitive earlobe between his teeth as his hips sped up again. “Fucking take it.”



    Loki’s cries only grew in volume, at the words spoken into his ear like a gravel slide and the vision-blurring pleasure of having Clint’s cock deep inside him. Each thrust brought him closer, his cries louder, until, with one last, bed-breaking push:



    “Clint! Oh fuck, Clint!”



    The sheets were ripped away from the mattress and soaked from below as Loki finally spilled over, body trembling with spasms as he came undone beneath his Hawk. The wordless cry echoed through the room and probably beyond it, but neither cared if anyone heard them or not.



    Clint’s teeth were gritted against the tight, constricting heat as he felt the tremors wrack the body beneath him, cock clamped in a vice so tight he couldn’t have come even if he’d wanted to. He gripped Loki tightly, letting him ride out the aftershocks before he even thought of moving again.



    “Fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he panted against the trembling shoulders. He gave a tentative push and felt Loki twitch around him before relaxing back to the mattress. “Knew I could get you to scream my name.”



    If Loki hadn’t still been trying to get his breath back, he might have made some kind of haughty retort. Instead, he simply allowed Clint to shove and tug him into a more comfortable position, up on his knees with legs spread wide. The slow, deep drag of the other man’s cock inside him caused his oversensitive body to twitch and shudder, but despite the frantic need he could feel from him, Clint managed to keep his pace steady and unhurried.



    He looked back to see his Hawk staring down at where they were joined, face contorted into a grimace of frustration. He was holding back to keep from hurting him. The thought made him feel curiously light in the solar-plexus, a strange feeling, but not entirely unwelcome. However, he didn’t want to see his Hawk restrained any longer; it was too reminiscent of their past, and he wanted nothing to do with that.



    “Don’t hold back,” he murmured. Clint’s eyes flicked up to his, uncertain and a little wary. “Let go, my Hawk. I want all of you.” He pressed his hips back, taking the straining length even deeper. “I will never beg you to stop. So let go. Please.”



    “Fuck…,” Clint gasped. “You… god damn it, fuck!”



    His hips snapped forward before he could restrain them, and when he got nothing but a satisfied moan from Loki, he did it again. And again. Then he was lost to the tightness and heat, and he closed his eyes against the pressure building up behind them. He pounded into the willing body, hearing the gasps and small whimpers as he grew closer to his peak.



    “Give me everything,” Loki moaned. “Everything you have. Come for me.” He tightened himself around the invading length, as tight as his trembling muscles would allow. “Come for me, Clint.”



    “Fuck… yes,” Clint breathed, as the tension snapped, and then he was coming, grip white-knuckled and trembling on Loki’s hips. He held himself deep, pressing his hips so hard into the other’s that he pushed him flat to the bed again. Loki moved with him, secretly reveling in the feeling of the strong, solid body shaking on top of him, the throbbing within as Clint spilled inside. “God… damn it.”



    Loki smiled to himself; it always seemed as if Clint was angry with himself every time he came. It was almost endearing.



    Finally spent, Clint pulled back, sliding free as carefully as his unresponsive body would allow, then collapsed face-first into the mattress beside Loki. He lay there for a few moments, not moving, barely appearing to breathe, before rolling over onto his back. Loki eyed him from across the sheets, face buried in the crook of one arm, and tried to ignore the decidedly unpleasant wetness in a decidedly uncomfortable spot beneath him.



    “Well, that was certainly much more entertaining than sulking on the roof, wouldn’t you agree?” he finally said into the silence.



    Clint glared over at him, though there was no heat to it. “I was up there for a reason, you know.” He huffed and looked at the ceiling.



    “Really? And what reason would that be?”



    Clint blinked… and blinked again. His brow furrowed. “Don’t remember.”



    Loki just smiled.