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After three full days locked in a room with his new alpha having the absolute best sex of his entire life, Clint was required to give a verbal report. Fury wanted an explanation of why, exactly, an unbonded omega went into heat on the deployed Helicarrier, instead of taking heat leave as required by SHIELD regulations.
Clint stood at attention in the Director's office, thankful he hadn't been ordered to sit, and said, simply, "Medical's fault."
When Fury arched an eyebrow at him, a wordless request for more information and a snarky comeback all in one, Clint sighed. "Fine. I told them my heat was coming up early, but their schedule didn't jive with what my body was telling me and--"
"Since you have a nasty habit of stretching out your heat leave longer than strictly necessary, they didn't believe you?" Fury interrupted with a tilt of his head. "Have you heard the fable about the boy who cried wolf?"
Clint stopped himself from rolling his eyes by sheer willpower. "I told them they were welcome to do blood tests to confirm."
Fury's unimpressed expression didn't change. "You and I both know that certain chemical substances can be introduced to the body that will mimic the pheromones of omegas in heat. We work for a covert organization, Barton, it's a useful tool."
"Well, this time I wasn't lying," Clint admitted. "I knew it was coming on early, and I requested leave. I was denied. I went into heat on the Helicarrier. The rest was biology, sir."
"Barton, do you know why we have heat leave? Why we don't allow unbonded omegas in heat to go about their jobs?" His single eye bored into Clint, and Clint, realizing the question was rhetorical, sat silent. "Because having an unbonded omega go into heat in a closed area like the Helicarrier is dangerous, that's why. People get injured, even die."
"I know," he muttered. He'd seen it before, when he was in the circus. One of the trapeze artists, a lovely omega named Heather, had gone into heat unexpectedly a few months after he and Barney had joined up. The aftermath hadn't been pretty, and the circus had cancelled two badly-needed shows to lick their collective wounds. One of the animal trainers had been permanently scarred and ended up leaving the troupe. "Which is why I tried to leave."
Fury huffed out an annoyed sigh. "Get out of my office, Barton. Since you're officially bonded now, your heats are now going to be doubly annoying, since I'm going to lose my best sniper and my best agent in one fell swoop."
Clint shot Fury a grin and hustled out of the office as fast as possible, while still trying to maintain some sort of composure. With their bond still new and tentative, he didn't want to be away from Phil for any longer than necessary, and they had years of wasted time to make up.
--
Four days earlier...
--
When Clint opened his eyes, he knew, knew deep down in his bones, that today was the day. His skin was flushed, and felt a size too small for his body. The thin SHIELD-standard sheets were tangled around his ankles from where he'd kicked them off in his sleep in an effort to cool his overheated body. His morning wood was more insistent than most days, and he could feel the slick dampness between his asscheeks.
He flopped over onto his stomach, pinning his cock between his body and the sheets with a groan. On the one hand, he really had wanted to be wrong about this, because going into heat on the Helicarrier was--well, it was not ideal. He didn't have any desire to submit to any of the alphas aboard, since Coulson was off dealing with something Tony Stark-related, and taking care of himself with a knotting dildo wasn't nearly as satisfying as being filled with a hard, hot cock--preferably Coulson's hard, hot cock. Of course, his feelings didn't really matter, since relationships between handlers and assets were strictly against regulations, as Coulson had pointed out during his last heat, much to Clint's chagrin.
Clint whimpered as the thought of submitting to his handler caused his dick to twitch against the cotton and his ass to leak even more. He edged himself up on his knees a little and arched his back, presenting his ass to an imaginary alpha, one with piercing blue eyes and a firm but gentle touch. Clint thrust back, moaning as the sensitive head of his dick dragged against the sheets. He bit his bottom lip to stifle his cries as he humped the bed shamelessly, his precome wetting his already damp sheets. He closed his eyes and reached around behind himself, dragging a single finger up from his balls to his hole, and then slipped it in. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but his heat was young, and he wouldn't need a knot to get off for at least a few more hours.
He added a second finger, fucking himself in counterpoint to his thrusts against the bed, whining and moaning into his pillow. Clint's hand was covered with his own slick as he added a third finger, adding just enough pressure to push him over the edge, and he came without a hand on his cock. He just barely bit back a howl as he spilled over the sheets, his fingers still moving inside his ass, drawing out the orgasm.
When the pleasurable waves finally stopped, Clint collapsed onto the bed, not caring that he lay in a pool of his own semen and slick. He was going to need to shower after this anyway, to help lessen the effect of his pheromones on the alphas on the 'carrier. It wouldn't completely mask them, but it would be something he could point to when he had to, inevitably, stand in front of Fury and explain.
Clint lifted himself out of his own mess and stripped the bed down to the mattress, double-bagging the pheromone-laden bedding in plastic before tossing it down the laundry chute. He, like all the other unbonded omegas, had a small en suite bathroom in his quarters, with just enough room for a standing shower, a sink, and a toilet. He showered quickly but thoroughly, biting his lip to keep from simply jerking off to another climax and having to repeat the whole thing over. While that would be nice for the moment, it wouldn't help in the long run.
He knew he should make his way to medical and ask to be quarantined until the worst passed, but instead, Clint dressed in loose-fitting basketball shorts and a t shirt he'd cut the sleeves off. Since it was at least half the Medical staff's fault he was in this predicament, he reasoned, it would serve them right if he got the whole 'carrier riled up, and he was too keyed up to sit in his quarters. A small part of Clint's brain objected to this line of thinking, pointing out that it was the heat talking, that he'd never intentionally put the staff in jeopardy if it weren't for the hormones running rampant through his body, and that was why SHIELD required heat leave in the first place. Omegas in heat didn't always make the best decisions. That part was quickly and ruthlessly quashed by the rest his brain, which was consumed by the thought of getting held down and fucked until his bones were liquid.
Clint made his way down to the gym, nodding and smiling at everyone he passed. The other omegas simply raised an eyebrow or rolled their eyes, while the alphas and betas all paused and sniffed the air around him. Some of the younger, unbonded alphas made as if to follow him, before jerking themselves out of it with a frown. Clint just grinned and started jogging, not enough to really work up a sweat, but just enough to get his blood pumping. And if it got his scent up and out to everyone else, well that was just a side benefit, right?
Since it was just after 7am, the gym was sparsely populated. Swanson, a bonded beta, was lifting weights, and two other omegas, Johnson and Ortiz, were sparring on the far mats. Clint headed straight for the punching bag to work off some of the nervous energy that was running though his body. His cock was mostly hard just from the feel of the satiny shorts against his skin, and he could feel the wetness sliding down his inner thighs already, since he'd neglected to put on boxer-briefs. He wrapped his hands carefully before attacking the bag with everything he had.
After half an hour of increasingly intense exercise, his shirt was soaked through with sweat, his heat pheromones saturating the air and spreading throughout the helicarrier through its HVAC system. He slammed an elbow into the bag, sending it spinning away from him. He caught it as it ricocheted back, and wiped the sweat from his eyes as he studied his audience.
Clint couldn't even pretend that he hadn't noticed them gathering. Over the sound of his fists on the bag, he'd heard them wandering into the gym alone and in pairs, circling him, jockeying for position. The hot, musky scent of aroused alpha permeated the room, ratcheting up his own desire to new heights as every unbonded alpha and a handful betas found their way to the gym, jobs be damned, each one staring at Clint like he was a tasty steak.
He grinned, more a baring of teeth than a smile, and started slowly unwinding the tape from around his hands. If it were any other situation, he would find their intense focus unnerving, but right now, it made his already rock-hard cock throb and his hole flutter in anticipation. He balled up the tape and tossed it at the crowd, unable to hide his amusement when one of the younger alphas snatched it from the air and pressed it to his nose.
Clint scanned the faces around him, making eye contact with some of the stronger, more experienced alphas. He didn't even bother acknowledging the puppies; they weren't worth his time. His choices made and communicated to the alphas, he deliberately turned his back on them and stalked toward the sparring mats.
The alphas followed, the ones he'd chosen shouldering toward the front of the group, identical looks of hunger on their faces. Clint bared his teeth again and stripped off his shirt, tossing it behind him carelessly. Hansen, another field agent, stepped up to the mat, toeing off her modest heels and slipping her suit jacket off. Clint planted his feet and looked at her, taking in the lithe muscles under her mahogany skin, her straight, white teeth, and the fierceness in her dark eyes. "Good luck," he said.
Hansen laughed. "I don't need luck, Barton," she said, and launched herself at him.
Hansen was good, Clint could admit it. She used her smaller size to her advantage, coming at him low and using her body to lever him up off his feet and onto his back. But Clint had been training with Natasha for years now, and knew all the tricks Hansen did, and several more besides. He quickly flipped their positions, pinning her to the mat and clasping one arm between his thighs and up toward his chest in a classic armbar hold. With a little more pressure, he could hyperextend her elbow, and Hansen knew it. She huffed and tapped his thigh, signalling her defeat.
Clint released her and bounced to his feet, the hormones coursing through him giving him almost unlimited energy. His erection was an insistent distraction, and he cupped it through his shorts, pretending to ignore the groans of the alphas at the obvious display. A shoving match between two of them gave another a shot at Clint; Clint had him pinned and tapped out in less than a minute, while the others squabbled among themselves.
A more intense fight broke out between a handful of the younger alphas, but Clint ignored it; none of them had a snowball's chance in hell of mounting him, so it was irrelevant. One of them screamed in pain; the tenor made Clint guess a broken bone. He blocked out the sounds as Schaefer, a whip-cord thin man who spent almost as many hours in the shooting range as Clint, came at him. In hand-to-hand, though, he was less proficient, his wiry body no match for Clint's strength, but his scent was almost enough for Clint to let him win. Schaefer had him on the mat, his cock hard and insistent as he lost concentration and rutted against Clint's thigh. Clint growled and arched his back, easily dislodging Schaefer, and turned the tables on him quickly enough.
"Got too greedy too early, Schaefer," Clint said as he twisted the man's ankle cruelly. Schaefer gasped out an apology and tapped out.
A shrill whistle pierced the sound of bodies thudding against one another, and everyone stopped. Phil Coulson, looking pristine as ever in one of his goddamn Dolce suits, glared at the tussling mass of alphas, searching for the cause of it all. Clint knew Coulson could smell his heat, could scent his readiness to mate, and the very idea of that made his knees weak with desire.
"Everyone out," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument even from the more dominant alphas. Some of the younger puppies grumbled, and one even made an ill-advised run at Coulson. Before he could even take a breath, Coulson had him on the floor, his forearm tight against the younger man's neck, cutting off his air. "I told you to get out," he growled. The puppy whimpered and went limp, turning his head to the side to bare his neck submissively, and Clint licked his lips at the overt dominance display.
Coulson climbed to his feet and stalked toward Clint, dismissing the rest of the alphas with a snarl. "Barton."
Clint swallowed hard. "Coulson. Sir."
Coulson continued walking forward, edging into Clint's space, but Clint stood his ground, refusing to give an inch. Coulson leaned in and inhaled deeply, his nose brushing lightly against the hot, sweaty skin of Clint's neck. "You're in heat," he said, his voice low and controlled, but anything but calm.
"I thought that was pretty obvious, sir," Clint replied, forcing his body to stay still rather than rub shamelessly against Coulson's suit-clad one. His heat was growing stronger by the minute, and his cock was so hard it hurt. He needed to get back to his room with some quality time with his knotting dildo sooner rather than later, and being this close to Coulson was only exacerbating things. If his ass got much wetter, he was going to need a wading pool, and he'd already gone through one set of sheets.
"You're not due for three weeks," he said, his face still mere inches from Clint's neck. "Is your contraceptive implant up-to-date?"
"Of course it is. That's regs. And these things happen," he said, breathing in deeply of Coulson's musky alpha scent. "What, you offering to help?" he snarked. "Because I recall asking you about that last time and you said--"
"I said I wasn't interested in being your dildo or your fuckbuddy, someone you call up twice a year to get you off," Coulson finished for him. "And I'm not." Clint bit back a groan as Coulson leaned in and licked a hot stripe up his sweaty neck.
Clint forced his brain to work past the short-circuit caused by having Coulson's tongue on him, and pulled away. "Wait, what? You--what do you want from me, Phil? And don't fuck with me. The truth, damn it."
Coulson growled low in his throat, a sound that went straight to Clint's cock. "I want you, Clint. I want to be your alpha, I want to knot you and fill you up, not just when you're in heat and desperate, but all the time. That's what I want." His fists were clenching and unclenching, as if he were holding onto his sanity by a thin, thin thread.
Clint felt the same. After years of pining for his handler, of spending heat after heat putting up with his hand and his dildo or alphas that barely revved his engine, here was everything he wanted, being handed to him on a silver platter. All he had to do was reach out and take it.
After a moment of thought, Clint grinned. "Well, sir, you're going to have to work for it. See if you're worthy."
Coulson's answering smile was feral as he stripped out of his suit jacket. "You think you can get away from me?"
Clint bared his teeth and crouched down. "Who says I want to get away?" he asked, then launched himself backward into a handspring, landing lightly on his feet three yards away from Coulson. "Maybe I just want to tease you a bit."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Coulson said, a wry smile on his face, as he bounced on the balls of his feet, watchful.
Clint had sparred with Phil enough to recognize the sharpness in his eyes; he was ready to follow whichever way Clint decided to move. Clint knew he was faster than Phil, and more nimble, and could easily scale the climbing wall or the thick knotted rope and put himself out of reach. But that wouldn't be nearly as fun. He wanted Phil's hands on him, his strength pinning him down.
With a loud cry, he took a running start and flung himself at Phil, catching him off-guard. Phil fell backward, but not before wrapping his arms around Clint's midsection and taking him down too. The fall knocked the breath out of Phil, but he held on, twining his legs around Clint's hips and rubbing his erection roughly against Clint's. Clint whined at the contact, forcing his way past an almost overwhelming desire to bare his neck in submission to wriggle his way out of Phi's grasp and onto his knees a foot away.
Phil climbed to his feet and bared his teeth at Clint. His tie hung awkwardly, the knot loosened by their struggle, and his pale blue shirt was smudged with dirt from the gym floor. His skin was flushed with arousal and exertion, and his blue eyes sparkled. Clint breathed in deeply of Phil's rich and musky scent, and bit back a needy whimper.
Clint's dick was full and aching, and his hole felt empty, but he wasn't quite ready to give in yet. He crawled to his feet, more aware than ever of the slick dripping down his inner thighs. "What are you waiting for? You're not gonna catch me from all the way over there."
Phil smirked. "Guess I'll have to get closer, then," he said, and launched himself at Clint, catching him around his knees and flipping him onto his back. Phil's body was a delicious weight above him, and Clint didn't even have the wherewithal to pretend not to enjoy it. He arched his back, rubbing himself shamelessly against Phil, the buttons of his dress shirt scraping against Clint's bare chest. Phil growled and pressed his face against Clint's neck, teeth a sharp threat against his skin. "Do you submit?"
Clint could barely get enough air into his lungs to answer, he was so aroused. He tilted his head to the side, baring his throat, hissing, "Yes, yes, I submit."
Phil growled again, closing his teeth on the soft skin of Clint's throat, biting down just hard enough to sting. Clint relaxed in Phil's hold, melting into the glorious feeling of submission. Heat shot through him, a cocooning warmth that settled deep into his bones. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Phil's shoulders, holding him close as Phil continued to lick and nip at his neck, sucking a deep hickey into the soft skin there. "Mine," he said, his voice low and rough. "All mine."
"Yours," Clint breathed. "Fuck me, please Phil," he said, knowing he was begging and not caring.
"Not here," Phil answered, getting himself under control. "My quarters. Want you in my bed."
Clint felt cold and absolutely bereft as Phil climbed off him and offered a hand up. "Don't know if I can make it sir," he said, balls tight to his body from too long without an orgasm. If he thought it would help, he'd jerk off right here in the gym, but his heat was gone far enough that he wasn't sure he could get off without a knot in his ass.
"You'll make it if I say you'll make it," Phil said, tugging him to his feet. Clint stumbled a little, until Phil slung an arm around Clint's midsection to steady him. "Don't want you out like this," he murmured, rubbing his nose against the sensitive skin behind Clint's ear. "Don't want anyone else to see you like this. Stay here," he commanded, his alpha voice giving Clint strength he didn't know he had. He locked his knees to keep from dropping to the floor, begging, while Phil walked over and gathered up Clint's discarded tee and his own jacket. He draped the latter over Clint's bare shoulders and took a deep sniff of the former.
Clint groaned and leaned into Phil. "Please, Phil, you can't just do shit like that. I'm gonna die from blue balls if you don't fuck me soon, Jesus."
Phil laughed. "I'm fairly certain that's a medical impossibility, Barton, but nice try." He led him to the door and into the hallway, moving as quickly as possible with their combined arousals hindering them. They met only a few people on their trip; Phil growled challengingly at all the alphas, while the betas and omegas dropped their gaze immediately.
Phil, thankfully, was high enough on the food chain to rate private quarters on the Helicarrier, unlike most of the alphas, who shared the barracks with one another and the betas when they had to stay overnight. Unless there was an omega in heat around, alphas generally got along perfectly well, knowing instinctively where they fit in the hierarchy. It was the presence of omega pheromones that threw them into posturing, dominance displays, and over-protectiveness. Even the lingering trace of them in alphas' living areas or bathrooms tended to be enough, which is why the handful of omegas at SHIELD all rated single--but miniscule--rooms with private baths.
Phil's quarters, when they arrived, were far from miniscule. They were easily three times the size of Clint's own, with a queen-sized bed rather than his own single cot. Clint disentangled himself from Phil, slipped out of Phil's jacket and his own shoes, and flung himself onto the soft navy coverlet, wriggling happily. "Mmm, smells like you," he said, letting the scent of Phil, stirred up by his movement, surround him.
When he turned onto his back, it was to see Phil standing near the doorway, a hungry look on his face. "I like you in my bed," he said, blue eyes dark with desire. "You look gorgeous, Clint."
Clint swallowed hard, feeling, for the first time since he'd woken up this morning, a little unsure and nervous. He covered it up with a wide, seductive smile, and spread his legs. "I feel better. Come see for yourself."
Phil smirked and rolled his eyes, but he did close the distance between them and crawl on the bed to straddle Clint, leaning down to capture his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. There was a hint of stubble on Phil's chin, just enough to scrape against Clint's own. Phil licked his way into Clint's mouth, sucking and nipping until Clint was out of his mind with want. When Phil released his lips to trail soft but insistent kisses down Clint's neck, Clint felt like he was going to burn up from the inside. "Phil, please," he moaned, "please stop teasing me."
"Oh, Clint, I haven't even started teasing you," Phil promised, using his teeth on the exposed skin of Clint's chest. "I've been watching you for years, wanting you for years. Watching you tease and posture for all the alphas, shaking that gorgeous ass for them. Wanting to be yours." He circled his tongue around Clint's nipple, sucking the sensitive bud to further hardness. "You're so strong, so smart, so fucking amazing." He licked a hot trail to the other nipple, teasing it as well. "And you don't even see it. When you came to me last time," Phil said, his voice dropping closer to a growl, "it took everything in me to turn you down, and god, I regretted that decision so many times these past months." Clint squirmed and panted as Phil mouthed at his stomach, just above the waistband of his shorts, turned on beyond speech. "But I knew if I gave in then, you'd see me as just another alpha, someone to use when you needed a cock."
"Never," Clint gasped out forcing his tongue to work through his arousal, because fuck, Phil could never be 'just another' anything. "Never you."
Phil chuckled and tapped his thigh once, and Clint braced his feet on the bed to lift his hips so Phil could pull his shorts down and off, baring his rock-hard dick and allowing the odor of his pheromone-laden lubrication to more fully escape. He took a deep breath and leaned back in to lick a hot stripe up the underside of Clint's cock, humming happily. "And now I have you right where I want you, in my bed, naked and wanting, hungry for me." He sucked the head of Clint's dick into his mouth, tonguing gently at the slit. Clint whined and let his eyes slip closed with pleasure as Phil probed his slick opening with one finger. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but just the feeling of something pressing against those over-sensitive nerves was so good he could barely stand it.
He pushed back against Phil's hand, needy and whimpering, until Phil slid a second finger into his hole. Phil continued to suck his cock, flicking the tip of his tongue against the sensitive underside as he fucked Clint with his fingers. Clint arched off the bed as Phil's fingers brushed against his prostate, a glancing blow that was more intense for being so brief. "Fuck," he slurred, his tongue thick in his mouth. "Need you, Phil, please."
Phil groaned around his cock, the vibrations setting Clint's insides on fire. After one last lick, he let Clint's cock fall out of his mouth with a filthy pop, resting his forehead against Clint's hipbone. "I want to tease you some more, but I don't know that I can last," he said, sounding wrecked already as he continued to pump two fingers in and out of Clint's dripping hole. "Think we ought to take the edge off?"
"Yessss," Clint hissed as Phil rubbed a fingertip against his prostate again. "Fuck me, Phil," he begged.
Clint almost cried when Phil pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the comforter, then climbed off the bed to strip out of his clothes. Clint turned onto his side, stretching out to his full length as he watched Phil undress. Despite his obvious erection and the desperation in his voice not thirty seconds ago, Phil took his time, first untying his shoes and placing them neatly by the door with his socks inside, then using nimble fingers to pull off his tie and unbuckle his belt. Clint licked his lips hungrily as Phil unbuttoned his cuffs and his shirt, then let it drop off his arms before catching it just before it hit the ground. The plain white undershirt was next, baring Phil's lightly furred and surprisingly muscular chest. Clint's mouth watered at the prospect of getting his mouth on the tanned expanse of skin Phil was baring, piece by piece, and he had to remind himself they had three whole days to explore each other. With no other sound in the room besides Clint's heavy breathing, Phil's zipper seemed unnaturally loud. Clint bit his bottom lip and clenched his fists to keep from reaching for Phil as he pushed his pants and boxer-briefs down his thighs and stepped out of them.
Phil's cock was about average length but gloriously thick, its head flushed with arousal. It jutted upwards, not quite flat against his stomach, its hairy base already starting to round out with the very beginnings of a knot. Clint's hole fluttered in anticipation, and he couldn't quite hold back a whine as he reached out for Phil. "Please," he said, certain that was the extent of his vocabulary right now.
Phil grinned and crawled back onto the bed, bracketing Clint between his arms. "Yes, yes," he said, and when Phil kissed him, Clint could taste his own precome and slick on Phil's mouth. Clint wrapped his legs around Phil's waist and rutted up against him, glorying in the feel of his cock brushing against the wiry hair on Phil's stomach as Phil's cock dragged through the wet cleft between his cheeks. "Babe, I need you to turn over," Phil said, a cajoling note in his voice, as if he understood just how difficult it was becoming for Clint to use his higher brain functions.
Clint squeezed his eyes shut as Phil pulled away, and managed to flop over onto his belly, trapping his cock between his body and the covers. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as it had been this morning, in spite of the silkiness of Phil's high-thread-count comforter. His cock ached with the need to come, and he was absurdly grateful when Phil gripped his hips and pulled him up onto his knees, thighs spread to expose his achingly empty hole.
"Fuck," Phil muttered, voice rough, as he slid two fingers inside. "You're so wet and ready for me, aren't you? You just can't wait any more, can you?" Clint moaned a negative, and Phil chuckled. "That's okay, I can't either," he said, as he removed his fingers pressed the blunt head between Clint's cheeks.
Time seemed to slow down for Clint as Phil took his sweet time filling him up. Aided by Clint's copious natural slick, the head of his cock popped in with almost no resistance, drawing a pleased whine from Clint's throat. Phil thrust in shallowly, then pulled back, until the flared head was pressed back against Clint's hole, nearly slipping out altogether. Over and over, Phil slid in and out, his shallow thrusts going a little deeper each time, until finally, finally, Clint felt him bottom out, his hips snug against Clint's ass.
"Feel good, Clint?" Phil asked, stilling with his cock balls-deep. When Clint didn't answer right away, Phil slapped him lightly on his hip. "Tell me, Clint. Tell me how it feels."
Clint sucked in a shuddering breath and swallowed, trying to force his brain to work. "Feels so good, Phil. You feel so good," he mumbled.
Phil gripped Clint's hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft skin, and started fucking Clint vigorously. His cock bounced in time to Phil's thrusts, the sensitive underside rubbing against the comforter, leaving wet streaks of precome on the navy fabric. Phil's cock didn't hit his prostate consistently, but often enough to push Clint to the edge of orgasm, just needing that final sensation of being knotted to tip him over into an explosive climax. "Phil, please, I need your knot so bad."
"You do?" Phil asked, his voice sounding nearly as wrecked as Clint felt. "Tell me how bad you need it, baby."
Clint whined out a complaint, but started babbling immediately when Phil's thrusts started to slow. "I need it so bad, Phil, need you to fill me up, god, I think I'm gonna explode if you don't come in me, please, please, please, fuck, Phil, I need it!" He nearly sobbed with relief as he felt the tell-tale swelling at the base of Phil's cock, crying out Phil's name as the intense pressure on the inner walls of his ass triggered his own orgasm. His vision went white around the edges with the violence of his climax, and it was only Phil's strong arms around him that kept him from collapsing flat onto the bed into a pool of his own come.
He reveled in the feeling of Phil's sweat-slick chest against his back, the tickle of hair on his skin, and the careful way Phil tipped them over onto their sides, his knot tying them together. Phil pulled Clint even tighter to him, one arm under Clint's neck, fingers of the other tracing through the trail of hair low on his stomach. Clint had never felt so safe and cared for in his life.
Phil gently mouthed at the place where Clint's shoulder met his neck, where his bonding gland was situated just under the skin. One strong bite there as Clint orgasmed would flood his bloodstream with hormones that would tie the two of them together, and the idea of being bonded with Phil caused Clint's gut to clench with want. Phil licked the spot with the flat of his tongue, sending waves of pleasure radiating out through Clint's exhausted body, and Phil moaned as his hole tightened around the base of Phil's slowly softening cock. "Clint, you're amazing, so perfect," he said against Clint's skin. "So perfect."
Clint turned his head to lazily kiss Phil, the angle hard on his neck, but the taste of Phil's mouth was worth it. After several long, drowsy minutes, he felt Phil's cock slide out of his well-used hole, followed by a trickle of come and slick. No longer tied together, Clint flopped onto his back and pulled Phil on top of him. "Jesus, Phil," he said, in between soft kisses, "that was, fuck, the best sex ever."
Phil laughed against Clint's mouth. "Was it what you were expecting when you went down to tease the alphas?" he asked, moving down to suck a hickey into Clint's neck.
"Fuck no," he gasped, arching up. "I was going to use them to get me all, ugh, turned on and then leave 'em hanging, go back and play with my dildo." Thinking about you, he added, silently.
Phil leaned up so he could meet Clint's eyes. He arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Clint nodded, and propped himself up on his elbows so he could lick a trail of sweat off Phil's collarbone. He took a deep breath, internally bracing himself. "You were off-base, so there wasn't a single alpha I wanted."
"What?"
"You heard me," Clint answered, grinning at Phil's flabbergasted expression. He flopped back down onto the bed, grabbing Phil's shoulders and pulling him flush against Clint's chest. "I've wanted you for a long time, Phil. So fucking long. And when you turned me down last time..." He trailed off and turned his face away, hiding his expression from Phil.
"Clint," Phil murmured, gripping his chin lightly and forcing Clint to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. If I'd known--"
"How could you?" Clint asked with a self-deprecating laugh. "It's not like I said anything. You made your conclusions based on the information available," he said, voice mimicking Phil's own tone and cadence. "And since I withheld pertinent information, like the fact that I'm fucking in love with you--"
Phil quieted him with a fierce kiss. "Stop that. Don't you dare blame yourself for this. What's done is done." He grinned down at Clint, rubbing his hardening cock into the crease of Clint's thigh. "And we have a lot of time to make up."
"Pervert," Clint teased, but he couldn't deny that his heat, sated temporarily by his mind-blowing orgasm, was ratcheting up again, flooding his body with need. His ass was leaking and dick was stiff and sensitive; the rasp of Phil's stomach hair was almost too much, and his musky alpha scent was surrounding them both. He reached between them to grip Phil's erection, running his hand lightly along its length, now sticky with partially dried slick. With Phil momentarily distracted, Clint used his knee to nudge him over onto his back. "My turn," he said, straddling Phil's muscular thighs.
"Your turn? I thought I was the alpha here," Phil said with a small smirk.
"You act like you're surprised," Clint said as he leaned down to press a kiss to Phil's chest. The wiry hair tickled his nose as he licked his way from Phil's collarbone down to circle his tongue around one flat nipple. "You know I don't follow orders well," he murmured against Phil's skin. When it was wet and peaked, Clint moved over to its twin, sucking and nipping at it until it was hard as well. He left a wet trail as he made his way down to Phil's navel, bumping the head of his cock with his chin as Clint sucked a lovebite into the tender skin of Phil's stomach. Muscles beneath the skin quivered with anticipation as Clint wriggled his way farther down on Phil's legs, giving himself room to maneuver.
Clint looked up, meeting Phil's blue eyes with a smile. "Yes?" he asked, softly.
Phil could only nod as Clint lowered his mouth to Phil's cock, tongue darting out to caress the head. It tasted like Clint's slick, which wasn't a flavor he particularly cared for, but under that was the saltiness of Phil's skin, and a fresh wave of precome. He opened his mouth and swallowed the head, using his tongue to tease the underside as he hollowed out his cheeks. Phil moaned and Clint could feel him struggling not to thrust up into Clint's mouth. He pulled off, letting Phil's cock go with a filthy pop, before kneeling down further to lick at his balls. "Yes," Phil hissed, as Clint sucked first one, then the other, into his mouth, rolling each around on his tongue. After several more moments, Phil reached down and pulled Clint off, burying his hands in Clint's short blond hair and tugging him up until he was close enough to kiss. "I'm going to fuck you, Clint, I'm going to fuck you until you don't remember your name," Phil said, voice harsh, in between nipping at Clint's bottom lip.
Clint grinned. "I think my name is pretty well burned into my brain, sir. That might be a tall order."
Phil's answering growl sent a thrill down Clint's spine and his already hard dick twitched. "Do you doubt me?"
"Never," Clint breathed, gaze fixed on Phil's desire-dark eyes.
"Good," Phil said, and quickly maneuvered them until he was sitting back on his heels, his chest against Clint's back, with Clint's thighs spread across his own. Phil's cock rubbed against the small of Clint's back and the top of his buttocks, nowhere near Clint's achingly empty hole. Phil reached around and squeezed the base of Clint's cock, his grip just this side of painful. Clint groaned and leaned his head back on Phil's shoulder, and Phil took the opportunity to suck a bruise into Clint's exposed neck as he slowly worked Clint's hard dick with his hand, sending his arousal spiraling higher with each motion. The thought of Phil's mark on Clint's skin, letting everyone who looked at Clint know that he was Phil's, that no one else had any right to touch him...
"Phil," Clint murmured, repeating it when Phil didn't acknowledge him in favor of continuing his delicious assault on Clint's neck.
Phil pressed a final kiss to the hickey and rubbed his cheek against Clint's. "Yes?"
Clint took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. "I want... I want you to bite me."
Phil nodded. "I can do that," he agreed easily.
"No, no," Clint said, shaking his head. "Not just bite me--bite me. A bonding bite."
Phil's hand stilled, and for a second, Clint thought he'd gone too far, that Phil didn't really mean what he'd said earlier about being Clint's alpha. But then he felt Phil's chest heave as he sucked in a shuddering breath. "You're sure?" he whispered. "Because if you're not sure, don't tease me with the idea, Clint. I don't think I could bear it."
Clint closed his eyes and let the tension bleed out of his body. "I've never been more sure about anything," he replied, hoping Phil could feel his certainty. "Please."
"Fuck, yes," Phil said, angling his head so he could lick the spot, sending little shocks of pleasure through Clint's body. "Gonna fuck you now," he murmured, raking his teeth over Clint's skin, "gonna fuck you hard, and when you come, I'm going to make you mine for good, Clint."
Clint could only whimper his agreement as Phil reached between them to take hold of his cock and guide it into Clint's wet, empty hole. Even without any prep, Clint was still loose and slick enough that there was only the hint of burn as Phil slid in. "Yes," he hissed, reaching back to dig his blunt nails into Phil's sides.
Phil began thrusting up into Clint's body, one arm holding him tightly around the waist, the other hand circling Clint's cock, pumping in time with his thrusts. He would pause every few moments, just long enough to press a wet kiss to Clint's shoulder. "Can't wait to make you mine, Clint," he said, breathing hard. "Can't wait to be able to be your alpha, take care of you forever, have you in our bed when we go to sleep, when we wake up."
Clint hummed happily, letting the sensations and Phil's words overwhelm him. Phil's hand was warm around his cock, his own precome easing the way as Phil eased him closer and closer to the edge of climax. He felt his balls tighten as his orgasm began to build, and Clint started babbling, repeating Phil's name over and over and begging to come.
"I love you, too, Clint, so much, it's okay, babe, you can come soon, I promise," Phil said, his voice harsh with strain as his thrusts got faster and harder. After a few more moments, he pushed up and tipped them forward without withdrawing from Clint, using the new position for better leverage, hips snapping powerfully as Phil drove his cock into Clint's sensitive hole. Clint pillowed his head on his arms as Phil's cock hit his prostate with nearly every upstroke, Clint moaning wantonly each time. He was beyond words by now, and when Phil's thrusts became more erratic and the base of his cock started to swell, Clint could only keen with pleasure.
Phil wrapped his arms around Clint' chest and pulled him upright, until his back was flush with Phil's chest. As Clint came, his come spattering on his chest and all over the bed, Phil leaned in and bit down hard on the swollen spot on Clint's shoulder. Clint screamed as the action released his bonding hormones, sparking more intense ecstasy than he'd ever felt before. His entire body spasmed with the force of his orgasm; only Phil's knot in his ass and Phil's arms wrapped tightly around his body kept him from shaking right off the bed.
Clint couldn't say how long it lasted, only that when he came down from his climax, he was lying on his side with Phil spooned up behind him, still tied together. Phil was pressing soft, gentle kisses to the blossoming bruise on Clint's shoulder, and rubbing calming circles on Clint's come-covered stomach.
He swallowed, and his throat felt raw. "So," he croaked, "that was pretty intense. Wasn't quite expecting that."
Phil's chuckle vibrated through Clint's chest pleasantly. "Yes, it seems they don't quite explain the nuances in sex ed class, do they?" Phil rubbed his cheek against Clint's hair in an action Clint recognized from other bonded couples, mixing their scents. "You okay?"
Clint took a deep breath, inhaling the rich, intoxicating smell of Phil's alpha pheromones, now even more attractive to him since he was more attuned to them. His body was warm with the pleasant ache that followed heavy exertion, and the feeling of Phil's knot inside him, pressing against his inner walls was glorious. He almost felt drunk, even though he hadn't had a drop of alcohol. "I feel great," he said, voice still hoarse. "Better than great. Fantastic."
"Me too," Phil murmured. "And I didn't think it was possible for you to smell better to me, but I was wrong," he admitted. "I hope this tones down once you're not in heat any longer, or missions are going to be difficult."
"I'm sure it will," Clint said. "Though I'm sure I'm still going to want to jump your bones pretty much all the time, but that's not anything new."
He could feel Phil shaking his head. "I wish you'd told me before," he admitted softly.
Clint sighed, the residual good feelings from his orgasm and their bonding blunting his natural reticence to talk about feelings and emotions. This was Phil, his bonded alpha; he deserved to know everything. "Me too. I was afraid you'd turn me down, though, and I would rather have you as my friend and handler than not have you at all."
"Oh, Clint. Even if I wasn't attracted to you--wasn't in love with you--I never would have let that affect our working relationship."
"I wasn't worried about you, sir," Clint said, groaning as Phil's knot finally shrank enough that his cock could slip out. "You're a consummate professional." He turned over onto his other side, so he could face Phil, taking Phil's face in his hands. "I was more worried about me," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Phil's lips. "Don't think I could have stood it if you rejected me."
Phil shook his head, a small smile on his face. "You don't give yourself enough credit. You're stronger than you think you are. You also," Phil said, glancing down at Clint's stomach, where his come was starting to dry in sticky white stripes, "are dirtier than you think you are. Luckily," he added, pausing to kiss Clint again, "I have a private bathroom with an extra-large shower."
Clint grinned. "I love shower sex."
"Now who's the pervert?" Phil asked with a laugh as he reached around and squeezed Clint's ass, rubbing their sensitive cocks together.
"Mmm," Clint answered, rubbing his nose against Phil's, "still you, sir. Robbing the cradle and all. And fucking a subordinate."
Phil rolled his eyes and shoved lightly at Clint's chest. Clint flopped lazily onto his back, wrinkling his nose as he felt a pool of cold, sticky come under his ass. "Go wash some of that off you, and I'll change the sheets so no one has to lay in the wet spot," Phil said, as if he were reading Clint's mind.
"Aw, thought you were gonna take good care of me and wash me yourself," Clint said with an exaggerated pout. "You promised."
"I'll be in before you get fully clean, I'm sure," Phil said, nudging at Clint's shoulder.
"Fine," Clint whined, "I'm going. Geez, if I'd known you going to be so pushy, I'd--"
"Still have wanted me and you know it," Phil interrupted with a grin.
Clint pouted. "Taking my thunder already, sir? I hope you don't expect me to behave like a good little omega and like, do your laundry and stuff."
"Clint, I wouldn't let you touch my laundry," Phil said, still smirking. "I've seen the way you do yours on missions, and my suits are too expensive to be subjected to that sort of abuse. Now, go," he ordered, letting a bit of his alpha voice bleed through the teasing. "Get in the shower. I'll be with you in a minute."
Clint grumbled a little more, but rolled out of the bed and padded toward the bathroom, his half-hard dick bobbing with each step. "Oh, and Clint?" Phil said, causing him to stop and turn. Phil was still on the bed, obviously enjoying the view of Clint's naked ass, if his smile and erection was any indication. "Just wash above the waist. I'll help you with the rest."
Clint winked and saluted jauntily. "Yes, sir. Don't take too long, though," he warned. "I'm not known for my patience outside the sniper's nest."
Phil couldn't hide his amused grin. "I am well aware of that, Barton. Now go."
Clint saluted again and jogged the last few steps to the bathroom, anticipating a delicious round three.