Title: Complications 2/2
Author: SevenCorvus
Fandom: Avengers (movie verse)
Pairing/Character: Clint/Coulson
Rating: r (this part)
Warnings: no spoilers
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except in my dreams.
Word Count: 465 (this part)
Beta: ldf, thank you so much.
Summary: Working with a broken arm could be an irritating complication, but one he could work around, that he could tolerate.
Author’s Notes: Written for the “shaving/depilation” square at kink bingo. Feedback is love and will be rewarded with cookies (and smut).

Part 1: Complications

The muscles in Coulson’s throat worked slightly as he swallowed dryly. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Barton, he did, but there was a difference between trusting someone with your life in the field, trusting in their skills and dedication, and trusting them with a very sharp instrument near your throat. He wasn’t about to back down now though, and the serious look on Barton’s face said that he wouldn’t quit lightly.

Barton maneuvered him over to the sink, filling it partially with water. He squeezed out some shaving cream, spreading it across Coulson’s cheeks and chin, and down his neck. The archer gripped his head, holding him in place, the heat from his big hand sinking into Coulson’s skin, and warming him from the inside. It was a heady combination, Barton standing so close to him, his strong body brushing against Coulson’s own, while he carefully drew the razor across the agent’s skin, leaving it bare. Clint’s gaze was fixed on Coulson, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Coulson shifted slightly, starting to feel like prey, arousal thrumming through his veins.

He inclined his head in a show of submission, leaving his neck open for Clint to scrape along his jugular. Barton finished shaving him, rinsed off the razor, then ran a wet washcloth along Coulson’s face and neck, removing stray hairs. He threw the cloth to the counter, then stepped closer to the agent, tilting his head from side to side, as if admiring his work. The archer glanced down to where Coulson’s arousal was now apparent, asking with a grin if the other man wanted help with that as well.

Coulson just stared at him, not believing he was serious, when Clint leaned in for a fiery kiss, claiming his mouth and running his tongue along the agent’s lips, coaxing them open. The archer backed him up against the bathroom wall, pressing in tightly, taking care not to jar any of his injuries. Barton abandoned his mouth, leaving him panting for breath, as he turned his attention to Coulson’s neck, tasting the freshly shaved skin. He loosened the other man’s tie, pulling the shirt to the side, sucking marks along his collarbone, wanting to leave some physical evidence of his claim, even if no one else could see it, wanting to leave Coulson with some sign that this had really happened.

Barton snuck his hand into the agent’s pants, gripping him tightly, his thumb rubbing against the sensitive head of his cock. Coulson climaxed with a choked off moan, his head slamming back against the wall. He leaned back, the sturdy surface behind him the only thing keeping him upright, as he watched Clint lick his cum off his hand. Maybe this was a complication he could tolerate after all, he thought dazedly.