Happy Tuesday, my loves. Here is the chapter un-beta'd but on time...ish. I'm doing my best to keep up because I love this story and I want you all to get to read it.

Update: new and improved...slightly beta'd.

Just a head's up though, I am going on vacay this next week so I will not be posting next Tuesday. Take a little breather. Read some other great Frosthawk stuff. Maybe read something outside the fanfic world. You know, go crazy lol. And then I'll be back in two weeks. See you then. Enjoy, xo

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Clint wanted to retain just a tiny bit of that indignation that Loki hadn't fucked him yet but Loki had pulled him down on his cock far enough to choke him and long enough to leave him light-headed when the god shot deep into his mouth. He was spacey and smiling and kissing the velvety length of Loki's shaft as he softened in his hand. It was hard to be mad when everything was so good.

Loki reached a hand under the table and fed Clint another piece of bacon, turning breakfast into an obscene reward system for sucking him off. Not that Clint minded all that much. "Very good, baby," Loki praised and Clint could've come just from the sound of his voice, low and rough and satisfied. The god's hand wandered into Clint's hair and he keened at the touch. "It's so important to keep by belongings fed."

Clint sighed. "Yes, sir." When Loki's hand reached down again, Clint expected more food, but he was caught off guard when Loki pushed his face away.

"Enough. Come up here so I can look at you," the god ordered flippantly. Clint scrambled up, led mostly by desire because his mind was still tied to the stretch of Loki in his mouth. In his haste, his head just barely knocked the underside of the table, but he couldn't care. He stood with his hands folded dutifully behind him, rocking on his heels in anticipation of Loki's next demand.

"Stop fidgeting." A demand for sure, but Clint wasn't expecting it to be so hard. Why couldn't Loki choose something easy? Clint stiffened, begging his body not to react to Loki's dilatory hand as it wandered off the table and to his still-exposed dick. Clint leaned imperceptibly to see better as Loki tucked himself back into his loose sleep pants. "Clean up my plate," Loki directed as he rose, barely glancing at Clint.

The god knew what he was doing to Clint, and the archer was eating it up. He wanted Loki's attention and it killed him that the dark-haired man wouldn't give him the time of day after laving so much attention on him earlier. The back and forth left him off balance and teetering further into Loki's orbit by the moment. 

"Yes, sir," he acquiesced and picked up the dirty dishes. Loki strolled into Clint's living room and sank into the couch gracefully. Clint hastily rinsed the dishes and stuck them into the dishwasher before rushing back to Loki's presence; he didn't want to miss anything. He swallowed, unsure what to do.

But Loki always saved him. He snapped his fingers and pointed between his languidly spread knees. Clint should've known. He should just assume his position is on his knees by default. He dropped to the floor and looked up at Loki's pristine face. The god had picked up the book he was reading last night while Clint had watched trash TV. He was opening the literature to his saved placed, completely ignoring Clint.

The archer huffed, quiet but not silent, and Loki peaked over the book enough to raise a brow in warning. Clint nodded in understanding and settled in to wait. He would wait on Loki forever but with each page that flitted through the air, Clint got more distracted. Loki was close enough to be able to smell the slight tinge of sex on him.

Clint swayed closer without realizing. Loki kept reading but settled deeper into the couch, shifting his hips forward and letting his knees fall wider. Clint bit down on a needy whine and reached his chin out to bring himself just that tiny bit closer. Loki was never overly warm, but the heat Clint felt in his gut was plenty to make the space between them heated. 

He wanted. 

He wanted so much more.

Why wouldn't Loki just take him? Clint knew he wanted to. He could tell in the way Loki gripped at his hips, his ass, the way he grinded against him when Loki trapped him between his lithe body and any flat surface.

He couldn't help it. Clint leaned in just enough to brush the stubble on his cheek against Loki's inner thigh, electricity lighting up the air. Clint inhaled sharply and Loki's hand wandered down to Clint's hair.

He knew what was coming; he'd hadn't received the permission to touch yet and that meant either a brush off, or worse, punishment. But then Loki's hand came to the back of Clint's head and led him in, closer and down into Loki's crotch until Clint's face was buried in his lap. 

The archer sighed in sweet relief. This was all he wanted. The pace at which everything else in his life had fallen second to Loki should be frightening, would have been if he cared. It was dangerous and beautiful and sweet and Clint was drunk on it.

They were right there, at this precipice. Clint was more than ready to jump- he'd always been the one to jump without pause- but there was a barrier, something that kept Loki just a hand's reach away. 

He wanted more. 

Clint tilted his head until his mouth was lined up with the soft line of Loki in his pants. When his lips parted and his tongue flicked over the soft cotton, Loki moved his book to the side so he could look down at Clint. The archer flicked his eyes up to find Loki's eyes blown and dark. Clint smiled, pleased, and closed his mouth around the girth of the god. He ignored the taste of cotton and the damp texture of the fabric as his saliva soaked in, instead savoring the weight of him and the intensity of Loki's gaze.

"So eager," Loki murmured, fingerings wandered underneath Clint's chin and leading his head up, away from his contained length, to place a sure kiss on his lips. "I adore that about you."

Clint hummed in gratitude, kissing him again. "I can do so much more," the archer assured. His hands moved to support himself on the couch cushions on either side of Loki's legs so he could push in closer and lick across the sharp wing of Loki's collarbone. "I can show you how eager I am."

Loki laughed, a demure, elusive thing. "I believe you; you need not convince me."

Clint groaned, put out. "I want to," he whispered just under Loki's ear before taking the flesh between his teeth.

The god's jovial mood turned serious in a heartbeat and Loki's hand clamped down on Clint's shoulder. "Behave," he warned, but Clint wasn't having it. He was tired of waiting. The archer laved his tongue over the soft curve behind Loki's ear, sucking his mark into the skin. 

"I don't think I will," Clint quipped, finally feeling a twinge of that old fire he didn't realize he'd missed. 

Loki's hand gripped tighter, a physical warning to reinforce the verbal one, but Clint was past listening. He slid his hands onto Loki's thighs and squeezed just to finally feel the sinew shift under his touch. He needed to touch; he loved this part of romance, of sex, and he was fed up enough to take it himself instead of waiting for Loki to graciously hand it out.

Just as Clint's hands reached the bundled up fabric at the fold of Loki's hip, a hand clenched around his wrist in a vice. Loki's normally cool voice came out in a growl. "Do not disobey me, archer."

Clint, always one to buck the system, slid his free hand up to the side of Loki's neck and traced just a single finger down the thick vein there, sighing, "What are you going to do about it?" 

Clint liked to think he had pretty fast reflexes. In sparring sessions with Natasha or Steve, he always held his own. His precision was dead on and that came from a keen sense of bodily awareness. 

He didn't see Loki coming.

A milky white hand slithered just under his chin, at the top of his throat, and squeezed just enough to get a grip but not tight enough to choke, and then Clint was being lifted to his feet as Loki stood with him. "You are testing me," Loki hissed. "I didn't want to punish you today."

Clint gritted his teeth, biting back, "Then don't. Give me what I want."

Loki scoffed, dropping the hand under his chin and turning away. "You don't know what you ask."

The dominant's dismissal more than anything was what set Clint off. A 'no' he could've lived with; Loki was the boss, after all, but just a brush of the god's regal hand to wave away Clint's need...He couldn't stand it.

Clint grabbed Loki's wrist mid-air, making the god spin on his heels in shock. He spoke over Loki's obviously-coming rebuttal. "I'm not a child. I know what I'm asking, and I know what I want. Now, are you going to be man enough to give it to me, or should I go back to the two women who seemed to be able to do it just fine?"

They hadn't really talked about the other domme and the sub that Clint had slept with just before they started this, mostly because anytime it happened to come up, Loki's mood turned foul. In that moment, though, Clint wielded it to cut right to the heart of his grudge. 

Loki was seething, just barely holding on to his will but Clint could see how badly he wanted to take. He just needed a tiny push. He just needed-

Clint inhaled sharply, his head pulling in two inside itself. He hissed in pain and pressed the round butt of his palm to his temple. It was almost a familiar feeling now, and he knew what was happening. He opened his eyes and felt relieved that he was still in his own apartment and Loki was still in front of him, though no longer fuming but reaching out in worry. 

Clint shook his head and held a hand out to Loki, warning him not to touch. Everything was sensitive and he knew it would hurt as much as it soothed. He closed his eyes to block out the now too bright light and whispered inwardly, Clint?

Oh, good. I thought I was having a stroke.

Clint laughed. No, you're not dying, you're just fucking crazy, he passed back.

Tell me something I don't know, his double teased. Clint could acutely feel him sigh. You called me, I think. What's up?

He'd called the other Clint? He didn't know he could do that. Well...

When he didn't elaborate, the other Clint pressed, Well what? Something Loki did, obviously. He'll apologize eventually. He always does- or well, he'll eat you out until you pass out and that's about as close to an apology as you'll get.

Clint choked on his shock, barely tamping down a sharp bark of laughter. I'm not going to tell him you told me that for both our sakes. Plus, it's not something he's done, the archer complained.

Something he hasn't done then, Clint assumed from a universe away. His own defeated sigh said it all. His double laughed again, like it should be totally agreeable to be sexually frustrated. He's holding back with you, isn't he? 

Yes! Clint shouted in his head before he could dampen his relief. I want him to- He shook his head. I don't really think I should be talking to you about what I want your boyfriend to do to me...

The other Clint smirked and Clint felt it across the divide. If I didn't want him to do all of those things to you, he wouldn't be there right now. Loki can nearly take over an entire planet in a few days, but he can't get himself home in over a month? And he's not sticking around for the sightseeing.

It hadn't really occurred to Clint that Loki hadn't been trying all that hard to go home. He'd been too focused on Loki's mouth and hands and words. So, how do I get him to-fuck, you know- to fuck me? He felt ridiculous but he didn't think his phrasing was going to make this any less awkward.

He likes a challenge, the other Clint informed him. He's a big, terrible god with all these powers and his mind moves like a million miles a minute. He's always going to want a bit of give and take. 

What does that mean? I don't want to make him mad; I just want him to fuck me.

Make him mad and he will fuck you. 

I can't-

Make him mad. And he will fuck you, the other Clint insisted.

Okay, okay. Got it.

...And unless you want me around for that, you should probably let me go.

Clint shrugged, knew the other Clint would feel it. I don't know how. 

Same way you found me I guess...

Right...same way...I found you. He focused on the pulling in his mind, trying to bring it back to one whole place. It struggled against him but he could feel how good it felt to be whole again and soon his mind gave in and the other Clint's breathing faded away. The archer opened his eyes to find Loki not two inches from him, hands poised to catch him if he fell and a crease between his brows.

"Are you well?" Loki questioned.

Clint took account of himself. Yeah, he felt fine. Good actually. At least now he had direction. He set his shoulders and quirked a brow at the go. "Well enough for you to fuck me," he spat. "Your Clint seems to think your capable but I'm not so sure."

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I think you know what's coming in two weeks. I can't waaaait! Mwah! Xoxo, Jess