Chapter Text
The sex with him before the Chord Link transformed him was great, but this was, well, phenomenal .
Barton was still shy and awkward but was more receptive to the demands Fleur made than he ever had been.
As a proof of that, at the very moment these thoughts were in Fleur’s brain he was braced on the slippy tiles of Barton’s shower, Barton fully hilted inside him, his clawed hands digging into his flesh.
“Good.” Fleur whined out. He could see something dark and smoldering in the eyes of the Illumina General. “Be rough Barton.”
“As you wish.” He grinned, snapping his hips back and pushing forward with as much force as he was applying to the mechanic’s wrists above his head.
He could tell Barton needed this - a private relief that only Fleur provided - by the way the man whined and growled low, hands tracing the shape of the mechanic’s tattoos and the curve of his much smaller, yet somehow not fragile frame. Coming in at double the weight of Fleur, Barton could very easily hurt him, but instead, he seemed entirely willing for the mechanic to take charge.
The whispered demands for more - faster, harder rang through the small bathroom.
“Press me to the wall.” The mechanic whined, almost slipping down the tiles before feeling the weight of Barton pressing him harder, long arms pulling him forward to wrap his arms around the General’s neck. He had just enough traction to grind in time with his lover’s pace.
It also gave him better access to Barton’s face. Handsome, scarred, the new metallic jaw smoother and hotter to the touch than his old one, it was a self-indulgent pleasure to get this close, to touch his partner as he relaxed his domineering persona in a game of pure endurance.
Fleur might like it rough, but he was more interested in keeping the pleasure as sustained as long as possible, something that had taken some time for Barton to get used to - that someone cared about his pleasure as much as their own.
The slender fingers threaded in his hair pulled gently, easing his head back as the tastiest moan slipped from Fleur’s lips. A sharp pull made him growl, melting to a surprised gasp as he felt lips on his own, the hands in his hair pressing down to deepen the kiss.
“Sorry.” Fleur grinned as he pulled back. “Couldn’t help myself.” The nuzzle at the side of his face, hair draped over one of his horns was appreciated.
“Don’t come yet for me.” Fleur whined.
“Won’t.” Barton promised.
He kept his promise, fucking him in the exact way Fleur demanded to build him to a slow, desperate release that had him pawing at the soldier so hard that his nails broke skin as he rode through a shuddering orgasm.
“Oh gods.” He whined, head hanging limply over Barton’s shoulder, his entire 140lb frame suspended off the tiles by this beastly man following orders. “That was good.” He knocked Barton’s head gently with one of his horns as his tail swished. The feline tail of Barton’s gave away how tense the big man was, flicking wildly before stilling.
“Wanna come?” Fleur asked, being met by a desperate whine in his ear. “Ok, go ahead, I can handle it.”
The staccato rhythm was erratic and he didn’t protest when a clawed hand definitely broke the skin on his hip. The other tugged one of his horns back, giving a clear view of the younger man’s face as Barton finally came with a guttural cry of Fleur’s name.
They stayed together longer than casual lovers probably should, Barton aware of that fact when he eased back, dropping Fleur gently to his feet.
“Need a hand cleaning up?” He offered awkwardly.
“Yeah! That’d be nice.”
He wanted the quiet afterglow of their shower to continue as long as possible, a quiet desperate need for Fleur’s affection to be deeper than he had any right to want. As he wiped down the sharp slash on the other’s hips his tail flicked, guilt quickly replacing any sensation of warmth.
“I’m going to go get the first aid kit.” He fumbled out.
Fleur let out a whine, that pleasant closeness and glow disappearing into the cool air of the dorm space. He’d hoped the kiss would have signaled something to Barton, maybe his deep worry that Barton only viewed him as a casual fling and a regular hook up was true?
Still, he was so gentle when he worked salve into the cuts whilst Fleur perched on the end of his bed with his overalls unfastened and the side of his shirt hitched up.
“You’re cute like this.” Fleur said suddenly, enraptured by the slow sway of that panther tail protruding from the back of his combat pants. Other than the slightest twitch of a smile, if Barton had heard he didn’t acknowledge the compliment. “The Wrench crew are heading out for another desert race in a couple of days, so I’ll catch up with you when we get back, yeah?”
“Sure.” Barton nodded.
When the door closed behind Fleur, he sunk to his bed, his head in his hands. A gentle nuzzle to his leg was all the warning he got before the panther pounced on top of him, nuzzling him softly before settling over his lap. He glanced across to the empty bed across the room, wondering if Wrath’s war chess with Reinhardt was going well. Why had she even taken Hvit and Ulv again? The panther let out a yowl, bumping his hand.
“Sorry.” He smiled at her. “Thinking too much.” She let out a rumbled purr as he ran a hand between her ears.
On the Lepidoz, Brock spotted Fleur sneaking in amongst the drunken revelry.
“Hey, so how’d it go?”
“Clearly not that well since I’m back here tonight.” Fleur pointed out.
“Not even kissing him worked huh?”
“I mean it did, when we were having sex at least.” Brock scowled. “What? You asked!”
“I know man but it’s still weird of all the guys we’ve met you want to fuck an Illuminian War Dog.” Brock grinned. “I knew you had bad taste.”
“It’s why I’m friends with you isn’t it?” Fleur punched his arm, letting out a soft whimper when Brock knocked his scratched hip. “Ah careful.”
“Hm?”
“I got scratched up.” Fleur explained.
“Ew man, I don’t need to know.”
“Why the long face?” Roy had asked, dropping a glass of Whimsky down beside Fleur.
“He has lover problems.” Jona pointed out as she passed by, taking her seat with Regina further along the Lepidoz.
“Ah, to be young and in love.” The old man smiled.
“You sound like a grandpa sometimes.” Brock pointed out.
“I feel like one taking care of you kids.” He spotted Eve further down. “Go check on Eve would ya? She’s looking lost.”
“Sure.” Brock bounced to his feet leaving the pair alone.
“You know lad, I’ve noticed you sneaking off regularly, but I’ve never questioned where or who you’re sneaking off too.”
“Good.” Fleur smiled. “He’s uh…not our enemy, but Honcho Sinsa wouldn’t be happy with him.”
“Illuminian?” Roy asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I’d be extra careful, he’s still fragile from that little fling he and Charon had.” He paused. “It isn’t Charon, right?”
“No it’s not.” Fleur shook his head. “It’s…um…Barton.”
“The Warmongerer himself.” Roy barked a laugh. “Well, what’s the problem?”
So Fleur told Roy everything - how a casual fling had started from noticing Barton was frustrated, training late into the evenings until he’d split punching bags or his hands bled. He’d been sewing one up when Wrath had made a joke that if Barton got laid that would solve the problem. Barton had snarled at her and insisted he was just fine when she let slip that it was quite a challenge to find homosexual lovers back home, petting his arm reassauringly.
Fleur thought he was attractive, and whilst cavorting with a member of the nation most opposed to your own was most likely a disastrous idea, there was a certain beauty to the General that drew him in. What had meant to be a one-off fling in the back of the training hall in the middle of the night had spun out of control into regular hookups, Barton happy to indulge the demanding Fleur whilst exhausting his strength with him.
Unintentionally, Fleur had grown apart from other lovers he’d taken for flings, drawn into this odd friends-with-benefits dynamic they’d stuck with now. Who knew that falling in love would take power bottoming for a man twice as big and three times as strong as you?
“And he doesn’t acknowledge you trying to push more?” Roy asked, Fleur nodding as he took a sip of whimsky. “Well, I happen to know that just like me, Barton takes care of some of the youngsters in Illumina - that researcher pal of yours - the lass with the blonde hair? - They’re usually arguing about this and that, hear her calling him ‘bro’ every once in a while. Or there’s that Royal Guard Commander - the one he shares a room with, why don’t you ask them for some help?”
“I…I’ll consider it.”
Wrath peered into the room, the long shape in Barton’s arms much too large and imposing to be that tiny demon boy.
“Barton?” He roused at the mention of his name and the weight of his wolves joining him on the bed.
“Evenin’ Wrath.”
“I’d expected a message to say I needed to sleep elsewhere tonight.” She began. “I take it that neither of you said anything again?”
“Heh, yeah.” He looked at the ceiling like a lovelorn teenager. “Just a desperate dream.”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
“Pessimist.” She scowled. “Look, you guys have sex and then you spend three days moping around feeling sorry for yourself. I have to live with you.” She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.
“Sorry Wrath.”
“Don’t be.” She patted his leg. “You’re over thirty now and one of the most decorated soldiers in Illumina but when it comes to your love life you’re a literal teenager.”
“Least I have a love life. How is Grand Marshal Reinhardt?” He smiled slyly.
“I will hurt you.” She growled. “Go to sleep, love sick puppy dog.”