“WHAT ARE YOU UP TO TONIGHT, HAWK?”
The message popped up on a laptop's screen, suddenly giving a modest cover to a throbbing penis about to penetrate a hairy muscular ass of Clint's favorite pornstar of this week. Clint Barton was reclining on a bunk in his Helicarrier quarters, laptop the only source of light in a room, headphone buds blocking the low hum of engines in favor of grunts and moans of pixelated studs. “All the tech of the future, physics-defying weapons and power sources, and HD streams still glitch and stutter like we're on dial-up,” grumbled Clint, when a cartoony bleep announced an all-caps intruder on a porn-filled screen.
There were only two persons in all the universes who spoke exclusively in caps, and Clint was fairly certain he didn't have any Pratchett's characters on his contact list. Clint grinned gleefully at bottom stud's operatic grimace of mock pain and typed a reply.
“hey Thor just chilling watching movies in my room.”
“DO YOU MIND IF I COME OVER? EVERYONE IS OUT AND DIRECTOR FURY IS REALLY NOT MUCH FUN.”
A shadow of doubt crossed Clint's face. He was all comfy here in nothing but white briefs, and even that already seemed like being overdressed, so a visit from the annoyingly friendly Norse with a curtain on his shoulders who didn't get half of his jokes did not seem like a good idea.
“I HAVE BEER.”
“nice. what are you wearing?”
What part of his brain commanded him to type that question, Clint did not know, but he was glad such part turned up. He practically felt Thor freeze over his keyboard, trying to comprehend this turn of the conversation and looking for appropriate response. Clint's grin widened and he sat on his bed ready to troll the hell out his Asgardian coworker who was supposedly at a loss for words in his room few doors down the corridor.
“I HAVE GOT THIS MIDGARDIAN GARMENTS THAT FEEL VERY COMFORTABLE, WHY DO YOU ASK?”
“oh, those track pants with s.h.i.e.l.d. written all over your butt? classy. I've always wondered, do they come with matching underwear?”
“NO THEY DO NOT. I ONLY WEAR UNDERGARMENTS TO A GYM OR WHEN FIGHTING, ANYWAY.”
“so your balls don't go bouncing all over the place, yeah, totally get you bro. sooooo you wanna watch a movie then?”
“YES I WOULD RATHER WATCH A MOVIE THAN DISCUSS MY TESTICLES THANK YOU VERY MUCH. AND DRINK BEER.”
“did I make you uncomfortable? so sorry bro. I was just curious is it just me or do shield-issued tightie-whities REALLY chafe?”
“CLINT ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME?”
“AND YES THEY CHAFE. ARE YOU WEARING THEM NOW?”
“sparky? midgard to asgard? hello?”
A sharp knock on the door made Clint instinctively close his laptop. “Shit,” whispered Clint in complete darkness to the approaching chance of finally being smashed with Mjolnir for making dick jokes at the Norse god.
“Clint, it's me, Thor.”
“Are you here to smash me with your hammer?”
“The hammer is my penis, and no, I don't use it to murder my friends for stupid jokes.”
“Did you just quote Whedon?”
Clint got up from his bunk and clicked the light switch. The door slided open, and he frowned suspiciously at Thor, standing in the corridor in his track pants and a tank top, holding a six-pack with a terrifyingly serious face.
“Having a low voice and an irrational inclination for typing in all caps does not mean lack of a sense of humor, Clint. Will you keep me standing here all night?”
“Damn, Mister Odinson, you're good at deadpanning,” said Clint stepping aside and letting Thor in.
“Try growing up around Loki, this skill develops in no time. Also, hightened tolerance to annoying brats making dick jokes,” Thor walked into the room and turned to Clint with a meaningful look on his face.
“Man, you're tall,” retorted Clint nonchalantly.
Thor raised one eyebrow at Hawkeye's cheery mug.
“What?” said Clint radiating with the most sincere curiosity he could master.
“Clint, don't take it the wrong way, but were you ever told that you are a bit of a dick?” Thor was smiling broadly.
“Oh, lots of times, my friend, lots of times,” Clint sat on a bed, and Thor landed next to him, laughing thunderously and making springs creak under his weight. In Clint's opinion, the big guy had a somewhat loose idea of personal space and basically left none of it between them, but it wasn't like Clint complained. “And not only that, may I tell you, but the list goes on and on,” he said and took a swig from a bottle.
He smiled proudly and turned his head only to find out how oddly close to Thor's face he was now. Clint took his time gazing at this newly discovered view of an angular jaw, a blond beard, long hair and soft lips wet with beer, when suddenly he realized he was still only in his briefs and probably had already greeted Thor with his half-mast. A moment of thoughts in general direction of 'Holy shit' quickly gave way to something more in line with 'Okay, Sparky, game on,' then followed by 'Huh, what if this was a booty call to begin with?' The friendly Norse god was turning out to be less of a Scandinavian simpleton uttering Edda verses at random and more of a skilled manipulator playing with Clint... Or was it all Clint's wishful thinking fueled by Thor's enormous body heat and rippling muscles barely concealed by cotton-poly blend?
This thoughts were abruptly put on hold as Thor opened Clint's laptop only to see a freeze frame with clearly male bodies twisted amidst sweaty action.
“So this is the movie you were watching, Clint?” chuckled Thor.
“This is not what it looks like!” exclaimed Clint in a hurry, trying to look affronted yet unable to stop his ever-widening grin. He definitely noticed Thor's pants twitch at the sight of hardcore freeze frame.
“So, I see you appreciate fine male physique, Clint. Here, let me take my top off,” Thor hit 'Play' and handed the moaning laptop to Clint. He stood up and took his tank top off in a swift move only before demonstrated by one stripper Clint took home once, and that guy was a dedicated professional. “Wow, that escalated quickly. Should've installed a pole here long time ago just in case, but no!” cursed Clint himself silently. The sight of Thor's chest and abs coupled with growls and moans coming from a computer got Clint hard in no time, and he adjusted the laptop a little just so not to announce his erection immediately. Then Thor gave Clint a satisfied look and flexed his pecs.
“Fuck me,” mumbled Clint.
“Is this an expression of awe or an invitation?” Thor sat back on a bunk dangerously close to Clint and leaned over to his midgardian buddy.
“Clint, I...” Thor's reply was interrupted by two guys on a screen who finally got to the climax and both were shooting semen all over bottom's hairy chest. Thor and Clint went quiet and watched the money shot accompanied by crescendoing groans until the picture froze with a replay button on top. Clint looked at Thor, now inches from him, eyes hazy and cock hard against Clint's thigh.
“You were saying...”
“Wha... Um... Yeah. I was. Clint, I have never been with a man before, though I'm not unfamiliar with man-on-man ways, in theory at least, and it would be an honor to me to spend a night with you, my friend.”
“And they say chivalry is dead,” said Clint eagerly straddling Thor, who looked a little surprised yet pleased with this turn of events. “But honestly, I was plan B after Cap, wasn't I?”
“Can you blame me?” Thor raised his eyebrows in mock indignation.
“Oh, how could I. All the things I would do to Steve's body and even more things I'd let him do to me, each one more outrageous than the other,” Clint almost murmured the last words as Thor's hands slowly slid from his back lower and were now caressing Clint's butt. Clint moved back and forth, carefully holding his weight to just lightly brush over Thor's hard on, placed his hands on Thor's neck and gave him a sloppy kiss tinged with beer. Thor's lips welcomed Clint's hungry tongue, and his fingers slid between Hawk's butt cheeks aiming for his entrance, circling and stroking his tender skin.
“Someone has studied his man-on-man ways, hasn't he?” said Clint finally breaking the kiss and giving Thor a smoldering look. “Rather straightforward for the first time.”
“I'm a god after all, remember? Also, I don't see how anything about this is straight.”
“Don't get cocky with me, mister,” whispered Clint in the god's ear and gave it a slow thorough lick. “So, how would you like to ruin every mortal man for me now?”
“I would like to watch you... watch you get yourself ready for me first,” said Thor and got a hold of Clint's hand. “Watch you play with yourself, see the ways you pleasure your body, Clint.”
Thor opened his lips and put Clint's fingers in his mouth. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, I have half my hand in the Norse god's mouth, how is this real, lolzomfgbbqbye,” did Clint a dance of joy internally. His glimmering eyes met Thor's darkened gaze as Thor was carefully sucking on Clint's fingers, circling them with his tongue, getting them wet and slippery. With his other hand he pulled down Clint's briefs, and a second later Clint felt like some force of nature lifted him and then placed carefully on his back in bed and took off his underwear. Said force then gave one more lick to his fingers and slowly stroked his inner thigh, giving him a right direction. As if his fingers needed one, duh.
Clint took a look at Thor's hungry face and closed his eyes. The stage was all his now, and this performance would disappoint no one. Clint put his wet fingers at his rear entrance and gave it a careful stroke as if not sure whether even one digit can fit in there. He slowly circled his anus, and with a small whimper, more teasing than real, slid two fingers inside himself with ease. Clint proceeded with fingering himself, licked his other hand and gave his nipples, chest and stomach a generous stroke. He pulled his fingers from his ass and began stroking his body with both hands, uttering low groans of pleasure. He spat on his fingers and went on stretching his anus with three, and soon four of them, giving his ass a strong deliberate rub.
When he opened his eyes, Thor was standing next to the bunk naked, cock almost pressed into his stomach and dripping precum all over unkempt blond pubes. The air in the room had a definite smell of ozone, as if the storm was coming. “Hopefully, not coming too soon,” thought Clint, gladly eyeing Thor's heroic posture. “And I thought his hammer would be bigger. Ah well, it's still enough to damage me for good and then some.”
“You don't shoot lightnings when you come, do you?” asked Clint in sudden fear for his dear life or at least his dear ass. It was a good ass. He didn't want it fried, no sir.
“Don't fret, my friend, I do not,” Thor laughed heartily. “Though I may give off small electric charges, very low voltage, when I get close to ejaculation. I've been told it is quite pleasant and enhances the whole 'Fuck the god of thunder' experience. Now shall we?”
“Oh, ravage me, mighty Asgardian!”
Thor laid on top of Clint, enormous bulk of Asgardian muscle with a 70s' metal band hair, matching beard and furry bush, hard cock and smell of beer, sweat and electricity. He might have been inexperienced in making love to a man, but oh boy did he know where a guy needs to be touched and not hesitated a second to go there with his lips, tongue and strong yet gentle hands. This could probably tell Clint a lot about Thor's own ideas of feeling good, but he was barely there to take notes, awash in the sea of a generous Norse foreplay. Thor's fingers were working their way into Clint's sweet spot, while he wrapped his lips around a dick, careful not to bite. Thor's soft beard was right against Clint's balls, tickling him in the best possible way.
“You sure it's your first time?”
“I,” Thor pushed his fingers into Clint's prostate. “Am,” he hit it again, twisting his hand. “God,” he pressed fingers into Clint's magic spot and gave it a good tickle.
“Lots of fratboys told me that, Sparky,” said Clint in a minute when speech returned to him.
“Scout's honor,” said Thor pulling three fingers from Clint and giving him a wet salute.
“Alright, then, let's earn you your first 'Pounding a guy's ass' badge,” said Clint and pushed Thor on his back, then tried to climb on top of him, though all his limbs went wonky and unreliable. Clint lost balance and landed in Thor's lap, hands on guy's shoulders and cocks pressed together. “I'm good, I'm good, and feel free to take my clumsiness as a compliment.”
Thor pulled him closer and gave Clint a hot, wet and excruciatingly long kiss.
“Holy crap, you know this alone should count as fucking me, right? I think I just deepthroated your tongue, man. This is not how we do it in Midgard, and please keep doing it to me until death do us part or whatever,” said Clint trying to finally catch his breath. “Now, where were we.”
“We were almost inside,” said Thor, holding his cock and pushing its head between Clint's butt cheeks.
Clint gave him a smile and pressed himself onto Thor's throbbing dick. Hawk's adventurous spirit has brought much bigger and weirder objects into his ass more often than he would care to admit, but this literally electrifying feeling inside was in no doubt something new and exciting. “Well, riding god's dick is so off my bucket list. Now gotta catch all the legendary Pokémon and find the end of the rainbow, and I'm set for retirement,” thought Clint bouncing on top of Thor. “And for some reason I'm feeling lucky,” Clint looked at Thor's face full of delight, leaned forward and kissed him.
“Are you ready to take god's pounding now, my friend?” said Thor in low voice into Clint's ear.
“Man, people don't call me a giant slut for my pretty eyes! I was born... Hold on, that sounds wrong on every level... I hit eighteen ready due to legal restrictions!”
“That's the spirit. Your eyes really are pretty, though,” Thor flipped Clint onto bed and held his legs high, admiring the view. “You are one very handsome and passionate man, Clint, I'm grateful for the chance we have to bond like this.”
“This is incredibly sweet, but, not to sound rude, could you please proceed with bonding? As hard as possible would be much appreciated.”
“Oh, so that's what being hit by a truck feels like,” thought Clint, lost in colorful flashes before his closed eyes. It seemed Thor was going to smash him with his hammer after all, until all that remained of the beloved archer was a puddle of very happy pulp. “Well, at least I'll die doing what I really love — whoring around.”
Clint was on his side now, and Thor held his one leg on a shoulder and kept plowing Clint's ass with loud slaps of balls to his crotch. Either Thor was easily getting bored, or decided to show Clint his knowledge of sex positions, but the guy was folding him in a new shape every minute or so, yet didn't show any signs of weariness or approaching orgasm. The Norse was thorough and persistent in thrusting, grabbing and planting kisses all over Clint's body, making odd origami objects out of their limbs, twisting and reaching out — the experience not entirely new to Hawk, but taken to a different level in Thor's strong arms.
At one point Clint felt he blacked out due to sensory overload, woke up a few seconds later to find himself almost suspended in the air with only shoulders and head touching the bed, while Thor stood there holding him by the thighs and giving his ass a few more bruises, and then he felt it. First it was a light ticklish feeling deep inside, which soon grew stronger, and Clint realized that it was the fabled charge of electricity signaling his partner's close release. Small electric shocks really did feel quite exciting, especially given both men's current hazy nearly delirious state.
“Hey, Energizer,” muttered Clint, “Seems like you're almost there, so don't you pull out, I want you to shoot your load into me, big guy.”
Thor grinned and dropped Clint on the bed, bending the man's knees and placing Clint's feet on his shoulders. He was on top of Clint again, going in deep and dripping sweat all over his friend. Unable to hold any longer, Clint started stroking his cock to the rhythm of Thor's thrusts, feeling the approach of a possibly Earth-shattering orgasm. As Thor broke the next kiss, a tiny spark flickered between their lips.
“Ouch,” whispered Clint, and a moment later a thunderous rumbling erupted from Thor's heaving chest. His eyes were tightly closed and the mouth wide open in what could best be described as a roar, and Clint felt jolts of electricity mixed with spurts of semen fill his ass. He gave his cock a few more twisting strokes and shot cum all over himself, moaning loudly in ecstasy. Thor grabbed him by the thighs and pulled closer, shoving the full length of his dick inside and still ejaculating hot streams into Clint. The Norse made a few slow long thrusts, ran his hands down Hawk's body and finally collapsed next to him on the bed.
Both men were left with no will to move anymore, chests heaving with deep afterglow breath, spent and satisfied after a grand finale. The heat coming from Thor's body felt like a furnace, but the huge puddle of semen Clint shot onto his stomach and chest was starting to get cold, so he dropped his hand on a floor and fumbled for his underwear. He got his briefs and wiped himself clean with them, yet left Thor's cum trickle from his ass, a little kinky memento he'd love to keep a bit longer.
“So, I see S.H.I.E.L.D. underpants are good for something after all,” muttered Thor.
“Yep. Perfect for being torn off by horny Norse gods and used to wipe semen. Work great for facials, too, eff-why-eye,” said Clint. “I think this should be their official slogan.”
“S.H.I.E.L.D. underwear. Whenever you get cum in your face!” said Thor with gusto worthy of late night TV salesmen.
Clint looked at the man in admiration for a few seconds and couldn't stop himself from laughing. There seemed to be a lot of layers still undiscovered in Thor, and Clint thought he might spend some time learning about them, all that sexy and goofy and again sexy stuff behind a Norse boring facade.
“Do you mind if we cuddle?” asked Clint. “I don't think fuck buddies actually cuddle, so if that's too much commitment...”
Thor just turned on his side and held Clint close. Thor's hug felt safe, warm and really comfy, a perfect place to accidentally fall asleep.
“I'm sorry for picking on you, man. You're a nice guy, and your drapes look good on you. They're still drapes though, you know. And your ass looks amazing with S.H.I.E.L.D. spelled all over it. I mean it, bro, no offence,” muttered Clint into Thor's chest.
“None ever taken, Clint. And this is very sweet of you,” Thor held him a little tighter.
“So, we're good?”
“We have always been, Clint. We're good,” smiled Thor.
Clint stretched in his bed and fully woke up to find himself alone in his quarters. His body hurt in quite a few new places, so, he concluded, that late night visit from Thor was not a dream. Clint sat on the bed and picked the laptop from the floor. Above the still frozen cumshot asking for replay there was a new message waiting.
“THANKS FOR THE WONDERFUL NIGHT, CLINT. YOU MAY WANT TO CHECK YOUR PHONE. JUST SAYING.”
Clint took his phone from a bed stand curious to see what souvenir might his visitor leave him. The picture popped onto the screen right after it unlocked. Thor was broadly smiling into the camera he held high above the bed with one hand, the other resting on Clint's shoulder, as Clint held tight onto him, one cheek pressed into Thor's chest, fast asleep.
Clint fell on the bed chuckling, raised his phone in the air and took a picture of his still sleepy and messy self. He hit 'Send' not thinking a second.
“you see me walking funny, you should know that's all your fault, big guy.”
“I DON'T THINK I NEED TO SAY SORRY FOR THIS, DO I?”
“WHAT ARE YOU UP TO TONIGHT, HAWK?”