Shooting Bruce: Chapter 2

Clint didn’t seem to be relaxing one bit.  “So he had to get naked.  Here in your house.  He comes here, spends the whole day with you and then finds a convenient way to get naked.”


The front door slammed open so hard that it came off it’s hinges.  Tony shot up out of his chair as Clint came striding in the door, anger written on every inch of his face.

“Where is he.”


“Where the fuck is he.”

“Clint, calm down.  I told you already, we’re going to sit down and talk.”

But Clint wasn’t even looking at him, those blue eyes darting about the house, searching for Bruce.  Tony reached out, grabbing Clint’s chin, forcing the man to look at him.  “Clint.”

Those eyes were filled with rage and something else that Tony couldn’t quite put his finger on.  “Clint.  You need to calm down.”

“I need to shoot that fucking bastard.”

“You are not shooting Bruce.”

“And you need to stop defending him!”

It was only then that Tony noticed the gun in Clint’s hand.  “…..Clint, what the fuck.”  He reached for it.  “Seriously?”

But he had no chance against Clint.  The gun was immediately pulled from reach and Tony found himself being relocated, his back slammed hard against the wall.  Clint stepped in close, hands holding down Tony‘s wrists, a knee slipping between Tony‘s legs to pin him further. He looked at Clint, surprised.  Clint stared back, eyes narrowed.

“Where is he?”

…..fuck.  Tony had never seen Clint like this.  “…….Clint.  You need to just take a moment to think.  I don’t know what you think is going on, but nothing happened.  Bruce and I were working in the lab, I made a stupid miscalculation and there was an oil leak.  It got all over both of us, but Bruce got the worst of it.”

“So much so that he had to get naked.  Here in your house.  He comes here, spends the whole day with you and then finds a convenient way to get naked.”  Clint didn’t seem to be relaxing one bit.

“Clint…..” Tony couldn’t help but sigh.  “….look.  You see Tasha nearly every day.  I see Bruce once a week, if that.  Yes, he got naked.”  He could feel Clint tense at that, feel the cold metal of the gun digging into his wrist as Clint tightened his grasp.  “But you’ve seen Tasha much more than naked.  And Bruce got changed upstairs, in the bathroom, with the door closed.  Now, you tell me.  Which one of us should be jealous?”

Clint was silent, simply looking at Tony.  “Clint,” Tony said softly.  “Come on.  Give me the gun.”

He could see some of the tension easing from Clint’s face, and the man released his wrists, grip on the gun loosening.  Tony moved to take it.  At that moment, the door to the ground floor guest room opened, and Bruce emerged, dripping wet and clad in nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Tony, did you find anything I can wear….oh!  Hello, Clint.”

All of that tension returned to Clint immediately.  Tony tried to grab the gun but Clint did the same.  He managed to hold on to it enough so that Clint couldn’t shoot Bruce, who was staring in shock.  “Bruce….get the hell out of here!”

“What’d I do?!”

“Nothing!  Misunderstanding!  Just go!”

At any other time, watching Bruce flee the house, soaking wet, barefoot and mostly naked would have been ridiculously funny, but Tony was too busy trying to subdue Clint.  Who had apparently gotten sick of fighting Tony for the gun and released it, moving instead to grab a knife from his boot.  Oh fuck.  Tony had seen him throw those things.

“No, no, no.”

Clint had taken aim at Bruce’s back.  Tony tackled him, and the knife buried itself hilt-deep in the doorframe.  Immediately he found himself flipped onto his back, Clint pinning him to the floor, anger written on his face.

“What the fuck!  I told you not to get in the way!”

“And I told you not to shoot him!”

“You never said I couldn’t hurt him by other means!”

“It should’ve been obvious!”

Clint glared.  Those blue eyes could be very piercing.  “He was naked.”

“He had a towel on!”

“Still too naked.  I told you to get him in clothes.  Lots of clothes.”

“I didn’t have a chance to!”

“Oh?  And what were you doing that was SO important?”

“I was on the phone with you, you asshole!  Trying to get you to calm down!  OBVIOUSLY it worked WONDERS!”

Clint was still glowering.  Tony sighed.  “Clint……come on.”  He reached out, stroking Clint’s cheek.  “What exactly is the problem?”

“Him.”  The answer was immediate.  “Him, here with you.”  He was pressing into Tony’s hand, face warm as he sought out that touch.  “I’m stuck at work and he gets to be here with you.  Alone with you.  And naked.  Fuck.  Why was he naked?”

This again?  “I told you.  There was an accident in the lab.”

“Fuck that.”  Clint sat back on his heels, straddling Tony’s hips.

“You think I’m making this up?”

“No.  I think HE screwed up on purpose, so he could take advantage of the opportunity.”


“Shut up, Tony.”  And then he was yanking Tony’s shirt open, buttons flying off.  Tony looked up at him in surprise.


“I told you to shut up.”  His hands roamed over Tony‘s chest, taking in every inch of exposed flesh.  Tony shivered beneath the touch.  “This is mine.  You are mine.  All of you.  Bruce doesn’t get to have you.  No one gets to have you.  You’re mine.”

Tony didn’t know that he could have spoken even if Clint hadn’t ordered him to shut his mouth.  Clint’s touch….his words…..the anger and rage of moments before were washing away beneath all that tender possessiveness.  Clint never showed his emotions like this.  Anger, amusement, happiness……these were all emotions Clint was comfortable with.  But jealousy?  Not a chance.  And now, Clint was laying it bare.  He was jealous…..not even for any real reason, for he himself had stated that he knew that Tony wasn’t messing around on him.  No.  Clint was jealous that other people wanted Tony.  And that…..that knowledge was as beautiful as any gift Clint could have given him.

He managed a nod somehow.  “Yours.”

Clint didn’t admonish him for speaking, simply leaned in and kissed him, hard and domineering.  His hand slid between them, palming Tony’s cock through his slacks, and Tony couldn’t help a little moan.

“This is mine.”

Tony nodded, eyes shut tight.  “Yours.  All yours.”  He was vaguely aware of Clint using his free hand to undo his own shirt, of the rustling of fabric, but he couldn’t open his eyes to look.  Clint’s hand hadn’t stopped moving, still stroking that heat between his legs, and he could do nothing but arch and rock into the touch.

Then Clint stopped touching him, and despite his best efforts, Tony let out a little whine of disappointment.  He opened his eyes, gaze searching, unfocused, for Clint.  The man was kicking his pants aside, kneeling above Tony, gloriously naked.  Oh God.

He reached out, wanting Clint to come to him, but the gesture was ignored.  Instead, Clint went to work at the catches on Tony’s pants, undoing them and tugging them down and off, tossing them aside.  Before Tony could register what was happening, Clint’s mouth was on his thigh, nipping hard enough to hurt.  Tony cried out, hands finding Clint’s hair, grabbing fistfuls.

But Clint wasn’t done.  Not by far.  He continued his path upward, leaving marks as he went, fingers teasing lightly over Tony’s belly before taking him in hand and giving him a slow smooth stroke.  Tony tugged at that blonde hair, wanting Clint to come to him, wanting to see him, kiss him…..

….and then he felt the hot flick of Clint’s tongue teasing across his….oh God….he wouldn’t…..and then that heat was in him, probing deep and hot in a promise of what was to come, and still Clint’s hand stroked his cock, and Tony didn’t know whether to rock forward or back.  He realized that he was practically whimpering, and that only part of what he was saying resembled any sort of words.

He felt Clint’s mouth leave him, only to move higher, tongue teasing a hot trail along his shaft, then moving to his belly, circling his navel before biting down hard on the soft flesh, eliciting another sharp cry.  Still Clint kept moving, trailing kisses and bites up Tony’s body until he reached his lips, kissing him.


Tony nodded rapidly.  His body felt aflame.  He clutched at Clint.  “Please.”  Honestly, he was amazed he’d managed that word.  Clint was driving him mad.

“What?”  Clint nuzzled along Tony’s throat.  “Please’ what?”

Tony let out a truly pathetic sound.  How the fuck was Clint expecting him to form words?  “Goddammit.”  There.  That was a word.  “Fuck me.”

A happy noise rumbled in Clint’s throat and Tony thought he was going to lose it right there.  “Yeah?” He nipped the soft flesh of Tony’s throat, tugging, then pulled back to look the man in the eye.  “…..tell me.  Tell me you’re mine.”

…..God.  This was torture.  It wasn’t that Tony objected to saying the words; quite the contrary.  He would say the words a thousand times, and a thousand times again.  But at the moment?  He could barely think, let alone speak.  He took a slow, deep breath, trying to focus, and looked up into Clint’s eyes.  Those beautiful blue eyes, smiling down at him.  And he found that focus.  “Yours.  Only yours.”

He barely had a second to see that happiness that flooded Clint’s face before the man surged forward, claiming Tony’s lips in a deep kiss.  Tony could feel Clint settling between his legs, and then Clint was pressing forward, was inside him, filling him, and it was perfect.  How could he ever worry about anyone else when everything about us fits so well together?

There was no hesitation today, no pause for consideration or concern.  Clint’s rage had faded with Bruce’s departure but he was still enflamed, passion fueling his every action.

Tony could feel teeth scrape along his collarbone before Clint bit down on his throat again, this time hard enough to break skin, and Tony moaned.

“Gonna mark you…..let him see who you belong to.”

“Oh fuck…”  This was probably extremely twisted, but it was turning him on more than he would ever have imagined.  He gripped Clint’s shoulder’s tightly, letting himself be fucked into the floor, be owned, marked. And it was better than anything he had ever known.

Clint kissed him, a bruising kiss, and he could taste his own blood in Clint’s mouth.  Just then, a particularly hard thrust hit home right against his prostate, and he unraveled, practically screaming as he came.

He didn’t even know how long it was until Clint followed him, reaching his own climax.  He was too lost in pleasure, mind a haze.  He only became somewhat aware of his surroundings when Clint began stroking his hair.


Tony was still clinging to Clint, shivering from the intensity of all that had just happened.

“…..fuck.  Fuck, Tony, are you okay?”

Somehow, Tony managed a nod.  “Fine.  M’fine.”

“Oh God.  I’m sorry.”  All the passion spent, Clint seemed to have calmed down, and the realization of all that had just happened only now seemed to be dawning on him.   “Fuck.”

Tony began shaking his head.  He knew Clint was about to flip out, and wanted to stop that bird before it flew.  He grabbed a handful of blonde hair and yanked hard.  That got Clint’s attention, and he shut up, staring.

“Shut your mouth.  You don’t have anything to apologize for.  Well….” he amended, considering, “….you should probably apologize to Bruce for trying to kill him.”

“…ah……..probably.” Clint’s cheeks were flushed ever so slightly, but concern was still written in every inch of his face.  “But you…..”

Tony gave Clint’s face a light smack.  “Shuttup.  I’m fine.  That was…..Goddamn.”  Clint just looked at him, confused.  “…..can you do that more often?”

At that, Clint looked completely taken aback, looked as though Tony were insane.  “….I…….what?”

“Not the whole flipping-out-destroying-shit part.  Just…….for once, you really showed me how you felt.  That you were jealous.  That you didn’t want anyone else to have me.”

“Of COURSE I don’t want anyone else to have you!” Clint flushed red at the very suggestion.

“I know you don’t, but you never say so!  It can be really damn frustrating.”

There was a long silence.  “………….I’m sorry.  I’m not……I’m not used to it.  To saying how I feel.  It’s hard.”

Tony laughed softly.  “Yea.  It is.”  He stroked Clint’s sweat-dampened hair.

“But…..I’m trying?  And I’ll try harder.  I promise.”

“I know you are.  And you will.  And I appreciate that.  Really.  I’d be really happy.  I like seeing it.  Seeing how much you care.”

Clint still looked guilty.  “I’m sorry.”

Tony gave his face another smack.  “Shut the fuck up.  I don’t accept your apology.  Because I’M not sorry.  Apologize to Bruce, not me.  You don’t have anything to be sorry for between us.”

“…okay.  I……thanks.”

Tony shook his head.  “Honestly, sometimes you really can be the world’s biggest idiot.”  He cupped Clint’s cheek, thumb stroking the soft skin.  “How can you ever worry about us?  We may be as fucked up as any two people can be, but together, we’re perfect.”

Clint smiled.  “……..sappy.”

“And true.”

“Yeah.  And true.”  He turned into Tony’s touch, kissing his palm, and leaned back onto one elbow to take a good look at Tony, examining all the marks he had made, each one slowly purpling.


“Nothing.  Damn.  I really did a job on you.”  There were bite marks everywhere, starting at Tony’s thigh and trailing a path upwards to his throat.  Clint felt a little guilty at how happy the sight made him, a tiny little voice in his head whispering ‘mine.’

“Yea, I would think so.  Can feel it.”

Clint winced.  “Sorry.”

“Goddammit, shut up.  I like it.”  Tony managed, on the second try, to push himself to his elbows, taking a look down at his chest and belly, the marks there.  “…..heh.”


“I like it.  Now everyone can see who I belong to.”

That sent a jolt of heat rumbling through Clint and he leaned in, hand cupping the back of Tony’s head, pulling him in for a deep kiss.  Tony hummed happily into Clint’s mouth, gently nipping at Clint’s lower lip as they parted.

“……can we get off this floor?  I think I’ve got rug burn on my ass.”

Clint couldn’t help but laugh.  “Yeah.  Come on.  We’ll get you to bed.”

“Ooh, sounds good.”

Clint knew that tone of voice.  “Tony, I am not fucking you again right now.”

“Aww, why not?”

“Because I just abused the hell out of your body!  We’re getting you in bed and you’re gonna take a nap.”

“Pfft, I’m FINE.”  And then Tony tried to rise and his knees buckled.  Clint caught him, rolling his eyes.

“Oh yeah….totally fine.”  He picked Tony up and unceremoniously heaved him over one shoulder.


“What now?”

“I feel like my big strong man is hauling me off to his lair to do unspeakable things to me.”

Clint bit back a laugh.  “Tony, we just discussed this.  I’m not fucking you.”


Clint gently set Tony down on the bed.  “You’re going to sleep.”

“Not unless you stay.”

“I’m going to.  Just let me fix the door.”

“…..oh, right.  You kicked down my door, didn’t you?”


Tony grinned.  “That’s kinda hot.”

“Wasn’t at the time.”

“No, but it is now.  You’re awfully manly, you know that, right?”

“Fuck yeah.  I’m the epitome of manliness.”

“Good.  So long as you know.”

“Just lay down and relax.  I’ll be back in five minutes.”  Clint headed back to the other room, where the front door lay, broken off it’s hinges.  Goddamn.  It was a mess, but it didn’t take long to fix, and he returned to Tony.

The man was practically asleep, but was holding out, trying to wait until Clint was back.  “C’mere,” he mumbled.

Clint chuckled.  “I’m coming, I’m coming.”  He slid into bed beside Tony, tugging the covers up over them.  Tony immediately snuggled close.  Clint pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “Sleep.”

But Tony was asleep already.


“So I’m really sorry.”

Bruce let out a little laugh.  He looked slightly ill at ease, but that was just Bruce.  He always looked as though he were half expecting someone to tackle him to the ground at any second.  “Really, it’s okay.  I can understand.”

“Really?  Okay, great.  Thanks.”

“No problem.”

There was a silence between them, verging on awkward.  Then Tony came over, beer in hand.  “Hey, guys.  You get everything settled?”

Clint looked from Tony to Bruce, whose smile had taken on a slightly more anxious edge.  Clint felt that possessiveness take hold of him.  He reached for Tony, taking hold of his collar, and yanked it hard to expose the purple bite marks down his throat.  But he tugged too hard, and the shirt ripped.

Tony stared at Clint, the look on his face clearly stating that he knew EXACTLY what Clint was doing and simultaneously asking ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’.

Clint stared innocently right back.  “…..what?”


Leave a comment


  1. I’m in love with you and this pairing and this fic! So damn good!

  2. Topazione

     /  July 23, 2012

    Fuck. So damn good. I really, really love possessive Clint (more than I should). That was amazingly written, I was getting really worked up when Clint was all freaking-out-going-to-shoot/knife-Bruce. Look forward to reading more of your (always) amazing work.

  3. Tabby

     /  September 29, 2012

    I take back what I said in an earlier comment, THIS is the hottest scene between them. Possessive Clint is sexy as hell! Now to just see Possessive Tony >:P

  4. olagaw

     /  December 19, 2012

    I loved both parts, excellent work! I’m a huge fan of your texts between Clint and Tony ❤

    • olagaw

       /  December 19, 2012

      And thank you for your invitation, I’m delighted to be able to read more of your work!

      • I’m glad you came! I can almost never find Tony/Clint work, so when I find fans, I always encourage them to pop by. I like to spread the love. 😛

  5. hawkwind 1980

     /  June 26, 2014

    You know, I keep rereading your stories when I’m feeling particularly stressed, and it cheers me up. But this particular story is probably my favorite. I’m not sure why. Possessive!Clint has something to do with it, I’m sure.


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