Something Else Happened

By Maquis Leader

 

 

Rated: NC17

Author’s note:  Set immediately following A Funny Thing Happened On the Way To Thor’s Hammer.

 

The Roxxon station was barely a dot in the rear view mirror when the sleeping form in the passenger seat shifted. Phil glanced over to see that Clint was awake and blinking at him.

 “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Phil assured him. “Go back to sleep.”

“What happened?” Clint repeated.

“I couldn’t make up my mind, so I got both kinds.” He nodded at the donuts on the dashboard. “Chocolate is good, but I haven’t had the powdered ones in a long time.”

Clint blinked a few more times to clear the cobwebs. “Wasn’t talking about the donuts.” Phil had that look. That keyed up, post-mission look. His pupils were dilated, his breaths coming a little faster, and his hands were definitely clenched on the steering wheel.

Moving his seat so that he was sitting upright and could get a better look at the other man in the dim lighting the dashboard provided, Clint asked again. “What happened?”

Phil sighed. “You’re like a broken record.”

This time his partner didn’t answer, just fixed him with a steady stare.

The car sped down the highway for a few more minutes before Phil gave up and filled Clint in on what had happened inside the convenience store. The inept robbers, the bag of flour, and the terrified clerk.

“There were robbers and you didn’t wake me?” The archer stretched and twisted, working the kinks out of his back. “We’re a couple, doesn’t that mean we do things together?”

“There wasn’t time.” He shrugged. “They were small fish, I didn’t even break a sweat.”

That explained why Phil was still wired. The ideal op was short, quick and sweet. However, it didn’t give you time to work off all that pre-op tension and adrenalin. Clint grinned.

Another few minutes went by, desert landscape whipping past the windows in the dark. “Hey.” Clint spoke up again. “Since you didn’t wake me up, I didn’t get a chance to drain the snake. Pull over.”

Phil frowned. He’d forgotten to hit the head as well; the robbery attempt had distracted, him and it was always best to put distance between any outside work as quickly as possible to avoid those awkward encounters with the local authorities.

Spotting what looked to be a dirt road off the highway, Phil guided the car onto the wide spot the entrance created. Now that Clint had mentioned it, his own bladder was begging to be emptied.

“I would have liked to have grabbed something to eat.” Clint unbuckled the seatbelt. “I haven’t eaten since you picked me up in that piss-ant little town outside of Gallup. That was how many fucking hours ago?”

“Doubling back to that piss-ant little town outside of Gallup to pick you up put me behind schedule.” Phil unbuckled his own seatbelt and got out of the car. “Director Fury wants me in Puente Antiguo as soon as I can get there.”

“Then why didn’t we fly? Gallup has an airport.”

“Puente Antiguo doesn’t, and you know I don’t care for small aircraft.”

“You have got to get over that. It was one time.” Clint shook his head as he got out.

The two men took up positions at opposite ends of the car to water the local dirt and study the scenery in the moonlight. Even as close as they were, there were still some things a man preferred a little privacy for.

Finishing, Clint did the traditional tap and shake, and let his cock dangle a bit in the cool desert breeze while he studied the stars overhead. He rarely saw this many stars or had time to actually look at them.

“You’ll catch cold.” Phil had already finished and had turned to admire the other man as he stood staring up at the stars. “Wouldn’t want that to happen.”

“Nothing wrong with a little air from time to time.” He grinned as he tucked his cock back in his jeans and zipped up before leaning back against the side of the car. “Tell me again how you used a bag of flour as a lethal weapon.”

“It was hardly lethal, it only stunned him. I’d probably need the five pound size to actually kill someone.”

“I can’t wait for it to show up on Youtube.”

“It won’t – “ Phil sighed. He hadn’t confiscated the surveillance video. It would, but it would hardly be the first time a mysterious, suited man who was probably CIA or FBI – they always got all the credit – saved the day.

“Come here.” Clint motioned at Phil. When the other man got close enough, Clint’s hand shot out and grabbed the striped tie, pulling Phil up against his body.

Turning, Clint pinned him against the car and kissed him hard, his free hand coming up to cup Phil’s face and pressing a thumb against his jaw to force him to open his mouth to the kiss.

Phil grunted at the suddenness of the attack, but he didn’t fight it. He’d had enough fighting tonight. Instead, he surrendered willingly, his hands sliding up Clint’s arms to his shoulders to pull him closer. The unexpected rush of adrenaline from the convenience store had barely faded, and Barton’s manhandling brought it back in full force.

He arched his hips up to meet his partner’s as Clint ground into him, seemingly trying to push him through the side of the car. The kiss was deep and wet, with the younger man aggressively lapping at his mouth and nipping at his lower lip.

When Clint’s mouth finally lifted from his, Phil gasped for air. “Side of the road – can’t do this here – “

“We’re going to.” Clint rolled the tie around his hand, pulling Phil’s face close to his. “Agent Coulson. Big bad ass motherfucker all the other agents are scared of. You’re going to do what I tell you. Understand?”

“Director Fury – “

“Can go fuck himself.” The archer dragged Phil to the passenger door and opened it. They both blinked at the sudden light and Clint reached in and slapped the button, cutting it off and leaving them in the dark again. He turned to face Phil once more, his back to the open door.

“Barton – “

“You – mister bad ass mother fucker secret agent – you are going to suck my cock.” He jerked Phil closer until they were eye to eye. “Understand?”

“I understand.” Phil shivered, and he couldn’t blame it on the desert air. He and Clint had been together long enough to know each other’s sexual tastes and how to satisfy them. A small part of his brain was still protesting, urgently reminding him of the need to rush to the event site, but it was quickly overpowered and locked in a closet.

Letting go of the tie, Clint pulled his t-shirt off over his head, taking time to stretch his arms up and give the other man a good look at his body as he did so. “Put that on the ground. We don’t want to ruin your expensive badass suit.”

Obediently, Phil took the t-shirt and placed it on the ground between his feet. When he straightened, Clint once again took Phil’s tie and wrapped it around his left hand until there was only inches between the two of them, leaving them close enough that they were breathing each other’s breaths.

With his free hand, Clint unzipped his pants before sitting on the edge of the passenger seat. The move pulled Phil down with him, and without being told, he dropped to his knees on the t-shirt.

Phil dipped his head down and nuzzled along the open zipper at the hot flesh that was just barely exposed. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Clint’s jeans, he carefully eased them down until Clint’s cock was free.

As always, Phil took a moment to admire and stroke Clint’s body. With only the moonlight, the muscled chest and stomach were thrown into silver light and shadows.  “So beautiful.”

Clint tugged on Phil’s tie again, pulling his head down. “Less talk, more action.”

Eagerly, he wrapped a hand around Clint’s cock, guiding it into his mouth while his other hand slipped down to cup and squeeze his lover’s balls. Clint’s hips arched up and he cried out as he was engulfed in the wonderful, wet heat of Phil’s mouth.

“God, yes – “ Phil was a bad ass when it came to giving head and Clint collapsed back and gave himself up to the experience. He still had his hand wrapped around the silk tie and he tugged gently so that Phil glanced up at him, mouth and hands still working on his cock. “You know – what – what I like – “

“Um hm…” Phil hummed around the thick shaft. Lifting his head, he let Clint’s cock slip from his mouth with a wet sound that made his own hard cock twitch in painful want. He slid his hands down the insides of the younger man’s thighs, pushing them apart.

Even knowing what was coming, Clint couldn’t prepare himself for it. His skin shuddered into goosebumps and his breath caught in his throat as warm breath feathered over his inner thighs, Phil was laughing softly, his mouth hovering over his balls.

“Teasing bastard – “ He jumped as Phil’s tongue probed at the flesh where the base of his cock met his scrotum.

Phil rubbed his cheek along the inside of Clint’s thighs, blowing soft breaths along the sensitive skin. Lifting Clint’s balls, Phil licked a wet path from under the delicate sack down the cleft between the cheeks of Clint’s ass. He was rewarded with a yelped curse and Clint’s body jerking as taut as one of his bow strings.

“God – don’t – “ Clint wasn’t sure if he was begging for more or less or what he wanted more or less of – he just wanted it. “Fucking bad ass – at fucking everything – “

“And you love it.” Phil blew hard along the freshly wet skin, bringing another inarticulate sound from the other man. While Clint’s body was bowed upward, before he had time to come down off the sensations, Phil suckled one ball into his mouth and sucked on it with firm pressure but not too hard, just enough to make Clint dig his free hand into the leather seat until the fabric bunched up with a protesting sound.

Gently, carefully, Phil used his fingertips to work the other ball into his mouth as well and sucked them both lovingly. He rolled them, working them with his tongue and teeth until he could hear Clint whimpering and keening above him.

It was agony – delicious, wonderful fucking agony. Clint couldn’t catch his breath long enough to do more than moan and whimper. If he’d ever been tortured like this by an enemy of SHIELD, he’d be more than willing to spill every secret he knew.

He’d spread his legs wide and had his feet on the ground outside the car, pushing up to meet Phil’s mouth until his thighs started shaking and trembling with the strain. The console between the seats was digging into his shoulders, and he’d probably have a hell of a set of bruises, but he didn’t care. Didn’t care and wouldn’t stop if the most comfortable bed in the world appeared right outside the car.

“I know you – could kill me – with – “ Clint couldn’t think of anything besides how it felt to have his balls inside the mysterious wonder of Phil’s mouth. The only reason he hadn’t come all over both of them was because Phil had clamped his free hand around the base of Clint’s cock and squeezed it off. But part of what Phil needed was for him to keep up the bad ass motherfucker agent talk.

Phil didn’t help by making sounds that would probably be laughs if it wasn’t for a mouthful of Clint’s balls. The result was a vibration that made Clint’s back bow until his spine creaked. “St – st – stop!”

Letting Clint’s balls slip from his mouth with a dirty sounding smack, Phil raised his head and waited until Clint relaxed back down onto the seats. “I could kill you that way, yes.”

“You evil fucker.” Clint gasped when he could breathe again.

Their eyes met and Phil gave him his best innocent look. “I thought you liked that.”

“I do.” He jerked on Phil’s tie, pulling him forward. “You know what else I like.”

The innocent look melted away. Phil leaned up and over Clint, licking a trail from his cock up his stomach and chest until he could press a kiss to his lips. Hard and quick, pulling back before Clint could slip his tongue into his mouth. “I know everything you like.”

“I bet you could kill me with post-it notes, right?” Clint watched Phil kiss his way back down his body to his cock, which wanted attention so bad. It was a needy, needy cock.

“I could.” Phil tongued at Clint’s nipples. It was a running gag between them about using office supplies as weapons. Clint had once joked in front of a junior agent that Phil had killed a man with a paperclip, the rumor had spread, and now it was part of SHIELD lore. “What else?”

“What… um… what else…” It was hard to think with a hot, wet tongue circling his navel. “Staple remover?” Fuck no, those things look like a weapon instead of an office tool. “Um… oh! Laser pointer!”

Phil actually stopped for a moment before lowering his head again to nuzzle through the dark hair around Clint’s cock. “Too easy.”

“Gimme a break, it’s hard to think – Jesus fuck!” Clint jumped as Phil’s tongue lapped at the head of his cock. “Ahh… oh, God… white out – “

He must have picked a challenging one because Phil nearly swallowed his cock down in one move. Clint clutched at the back of Phil’s head with his free hand – not because the other man needed help, but because Clint needed to be sure it was real and not just the best fucking fantasy he’d ever had.

There was a scrape of teeth along his cock, and Clint pulled his hand back. It was a warning that Phil wasn’t in that mood. Reaching up, Clint wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel. Control of the moment kept swapping back and forth. Right now Phil was in charge – mostly because he was sucking and licking on Clint’s cock, which was the deciding factor in any vote.

Phil didn’t go for any finesse, just concentrated on taking Clint’s cock as far down as he could, until he could breathe in the clean scent of him, and then pulling back so that only the swollen head remained in his mouth before plunging down again.

He could hear Clint moaning and gasping for air, and he pushed harder, wanting to bring him to the edge and hold him there until Phil decided he could go over. Phil kept one hand clamped around the base of the thick shaft, holding Clint’s orgasm at bay, while the other squeezed and massaged the already hypersensitive balls.

Clint abandoned his grip on the tie, snaking his arm around the back of the car seat instead and hanging on as if his life depended on it – which it might, the way Phil was sucking him off.  His hands on Phil’s head or neck could earn him another near bite, if he was lucky, or Phil simply stopping what he was doing, if he wasn’t. It had only happened once, and jerking off with Phil watching wasn’t nearly as good as what he was doing now.

There was an obscenely wet pop as Phil let the head of Clint’s cock free of his mouth. Clint protested but didn’t try to force his cock back in. Much. He was arching up, but Phil was fairly certain it was something he couldn’t control.

He rested his cheek against Clint’s cock. “Imaginative.” He panted for breath, making sure to breathe across the wet skin. He smiled as Clint bucked and cursed. “What else?”

“Oh my God… kill me now…” Clint moaned and wiggled his hips, trying to get his cock back in Phil’s mouth somehow. “You fucking ninja badass motherfucker – “ What the hell else could –  “ – key card!”

Phil blinked. That was a new one. “I’ll have to think about that one.” He kissed the head of Clint’s cock, lapping up the precum that had gathered, before taking it in his mouth again and sliding up and down quick and hard.

“Fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes – “ Clint started rocking his hips up to meet Phil’s downward move, pushing deeper into his lover’s mouth. He was absolutely not using the steering wheel for leverage to pull himself up. Was not and would deny it even under duress.

Blow jobs were messy – there was no way for Phil to swallow the spit that collected in his mouth, and it ran down the turgid shaft to coat his fingers. Quickly, Phil swapped hands, dropping his spit slick fingers down under Clint’s balls, pressing hard on the perineum to make his lover arch up and spread his legs wider.

Clint yelped as he felt Phil’s wet fingers pressing against his opening. It wasn’t an unwanted touch, just unexpected. One finger pushed in, and he fought his natural reaction to clamp down and fight the intrusion. It was hard to do with his body wracked into one big muscle spasm by Phil’s mouth.

As if Phil was reading his mind – which God knew he could have been – Phil did that thing he did with his tongue to the tight little band of flesh at the backside of the head of Clint’s cock. Clint jerked on the steering wheel hard enough that the keys hanging in the ignition jingled and every muscle in his body clenched up.

That included the muscles that Phil was forcing his slick fingers past until they were buried knuckle deep inside Clint’s body. He stretched them until they brushed a hard, rounded surface. 

Even expecting the upwards arch of Clint’s body, Phil had his nose mashed hard into the firm flesh above the other man’s pubic bone and couldn’t breathe for a moment. It still counted as a victory in his book.

“No – fuck – no – “ Jagged jolts of pain or pleasure or both – his brain was too fucked to tell at this point – raced from where Phil stroked his prostate up to his cock and through his belly to his toes until Clint couldn’t breathe. “Phil – babe – please – “

Without proper lube, and spit was not proper lube, no matter what Brokeback Mountain viewers thought, the fingers pumping in and out burned. It was a good burn, not so bad it took away from the center of pleasure universe that was his cock, just enough to keep him from wanting to get off too soon.

His legs finally gave out from the strain of pushing up, refusing to lift him up any longer. Clint lifted one leg to wrap around Phil, digging his boot heel into Phil’s back to pull him closer. His other boot moved up to brace against the inside of the door frame because he felt as if he were seconds from spinning off into space.

Phil ignored his own aching cock. He could feel precum leaking onto his skin every time it twitched in response to Clint’s moans. It could wait, right now he needed to hear Clint beg for mercy. He needed to be told it was time, that it was the time to let Clint come. It only looked like Clint was at his mercy, but the reality was that the other man was the one in control.

“Phil – no – not – “ Clint ground his head into the cushion of the driver’s seat, trying to hold off just a little longer. Not that he could come with Phil’s fingers clamped around his cock better than any cock ring ever imagined, but he knew that those fingers would release and pump him dry the moment he commanded.

Waiting was just too good. Pain and pleasure scrambled into one insane sensation that had his heart skipping beats. Hot, wet mouth moving up and down his cock, cool desert air wafting over the wet skin in between strokes, the swirl and slide of tongue, and Phil’s lips tight enough to mimic the feel of the ring of muscle he loved to fuck past when he topped Phil.

Between gasps of his own, Clint heard Phil’s ragged breathing. He knew that Phil would keep sucking him forever if he wasn’t told to stop. This was post-mission and it was one of those times when the super cool bad ass motherfucker ninja agent needed to be under someone else’s control. But even so, he was clearly reaching his limit.

“Phil, babe – “ He let go of the steering wheel and caressed Phil’s cheek. “Now – let me come – babe – please – “

The tight fingers relaxed immediately and Phil moved his head back until only the head of Clint’s cock remained in his mouth. Hot, salty fluid burst across his tongue and he swallowed quickly, stroking up the shaft to milk every drop.

When the flood stopped, Phil laved the last few drops lovingly with his tongue. Gently pulling his fingers free from Clint’s body, he pressed kisses along the inside of the trembling inner thighs.  One last nuzzle at the already softening cock and Phil levered himself to his feet.

Leaning down over Clint, Phil rested a knee on the seat between his spread thighs. “Clint?”

It was hard, so hard to lift his head and meet Phil’s eyes. He was somewhere soft and warm and floating, his brain not doing more than sending buzzing signals along his body to be sure everybody on the nervous system chain gang was aware of the fucking awesome sex that was just had.

“Clint? Please?”

A message managed to sneak into this jumbled brain and get his attention. Phil still needed him. Clint had to lift up, pull himself up, nod to Phil, something. Otherwise Phil would continue to wait, no matter how much he wanted to finish himself off. “Jack off – for me. I want – I want to – see you come.”

Phil jerked his belt open and unzipped his suit pants, pulling them and his boxers down just enough to free his cock and start stroking. He leaned against the car, his free hand resting against the roof to hold himself up.

Moonlight had turned Clint’s body silver and Phil ran his gaze over the muscled shoulders and torso, the sex softened face, the intense eyes that watched him. “You’re so – fucking – beautiful, Clint – “

Propping himself on his elbows, Clint watched Phil rub and squeeze his cock in quick strokes. Aware that Phil was looking at him, he slid one hand lazily over his chest, tweaking his nipples and gently fondling his own flaccid cock. Even in the dim light, he could see Phil’s eyes widen and his hand work harder at himself.

Reaching out to catch the swaying tie, Clint pulled until Phil was crouching over him inside the car, kneeling between his spread legs. He sat up enough to catch Phil’s lips in a kiss, licking roughly at the other man’s mouth.

“Clint – please – “ Phil gasped into Clint’s mouth. “Please – “

“Come for me, babe.” He flopped back on the seats and watched as Phil cried out and came in hot spurts over his chest and stomach. There was a time he would have cringed at another man coming all over him, but that was before he’d found out what it meant to mark the man you loved. “That’s good – that’s so good – “

Phil was shaking and his arms trembled from holding himself up. Clint reached up and searched the jacket pockets of the other man’s suit for the handkerchief he knew would be there. Finding it, he quickly wiped the sticky mess off his skin.

“Come here.” He pulled Phil down to rest on top of him, placing kisses across his face and neck. “That was good. You did good – so good.”

“I needed that.” Phil rasped against the side of Clint’s throat. “God, I needed that.”

“I know.” It was damn uncomfortable lying across the seats and the console with the other man’s weight crushing him, but Clint wouldn’t have moved if the ground suddenly cracked open and started spitting out demons. “And you weren’t going to stop and take care of yourself, either.”

No sense in lying, Clint knew him too well. He would have kept pushing on to get to Puente Antiguo and been wound up tighter than a clock spring for however long it took him to check the activity out and report to Fury.

Raising up, knowing he had to be crushing Clint, Phil looked down into the beautiful eyes that were able to read him like no one he’d ever met before. “I love you. I don’t say it enough. I love you.”

Clint ducked his head, breaking the contact, suddenly feeling shy. They rarely spoke the words to each other, couching it instead in touches and quiet moments just leaning into each other.  “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

“I know I don’t have to.” Phil pushed himself up and out of the car, stretching out the kink in his back that he hadn’t noticed until now. “But sometimes I need to.”

The younger man scooted out after him, scooping up his t-shirt from the ground and shaking the desert soil out of it before he pulled it on over his head. There was a twinge under his right shoulder and he knew he’d need to work it out as before he hit the range or he’d be shooting himself in the foot.

By the time he’d pulled his jeans up, tucked himself safely back inside, and zipped up, Phil had already straightened his suit and retied his tie. He was examining the tie closely in the moonlight.

“Wrinkled?” Clint frowned. “I thought rolling it around my fist would keep it from wrinkling.”

“It’s not, that’s what I was looking at. Thank you.”

“I know you hate it when I wrinkle your ties.” If hate it meant glaring at him and pouting like a six-year old.

“We’d better get going.”

Clint watched him walk around the car and shook his head in amazement. Phil’s suit wasn’t even rumpled. He looked every inch the bad ass SHIELD agent that he was. He on the other hand – Clint caught a look at himself in the side view mirror as he slipped into his seat – looked exactly like he should have after a rough blow job and finger fuck in the front seat of a car. Satisfied and slutty.  He winked at his reflection.

Once they were both back in the car – and in their proper seats – Phil started the engine and looked expectantly at Clint.

“What?” Clint was leaning between the seats and rooting around on the back floorboard for the bottled water he knew was there. Finding one, he cracked it open and handed it to Phil.

“Seatbelt.” Accepting the bottle, Phil took a deep drink, letting the cool water ease the soreness in his throat.

“Seriously? I was dangling off a water tower in Bulgaria with you barking in my ear to take the shot and now you’re worried about my safety?” He was snapping the buckle in place even as he protested.

“There weren’t other drivers on the water tower.” Phil said reasonably as he handed the bottle back. “And I was not barking. I never bark. I do speak firmly at times.”

Clint nearly snorted water out his nose.

Phil guided the car back onto the highway and hit a speed that was safe in his estimation but hardly legal. The road flashed under the tires and the sound made Clint sleepy enough to adjust the seat back and close his eyes.

“I’d fold them.”

“Wha?” Clint blinked as Phil’s voice caught him just as he’d been about to slip under.

“The post-it notes. I’d fold them up, make a shiv. Stab you with it.”

“And the laser pointer?”

“I’m not even dignifying that one with an answer. The key card I could probably slit your throat with.” Phil took his eyes off the road long enough to grin at Clint.

Clint reached up and stroked a finger along his jaw. “Save me a chocolate donut, bad ass.”

The car hurtled on through the dark on the way to Thor’s Hammer and Clint dozed off before he could remember that Phil never had told him how he’d kill him with white out.

 

 

 

 

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