This is the final chapter of this part. There will be a single chapter intermission and (hopefully) a multi-chap sequel.

Warning: this part is kind of porn like. It has a m/m sex scene and I am therefore rating it M. (Also, any feedback on that would be great, I always feel self concious writing sex).

"Maybe you should get dressed," Bruce said, smiling. Clint looked down at himself and then back up at Bruce; he smirked.

"Or you could get undressed."

Bruce paused, then shook his head.

"No, we have things we need to talk about before we go any further."

"Haven't we done enough talking?" Clint pulled back, sliding his hand out from under Bruce's and leaning back in his chair.

"There are things you need to know before we do anything. Things about me."

"Like what?"

"Like sometimes the Other Guy shows up during sex. It happened the last time I was with Betty and I could have killed her."

"But you have better control now, right?"

"I haven't exactly practiced staying me in that particular situation," Bruce replied wryly. "But as near as I can tell, things are okay. I need to be in control though."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that when I'm in charge of a situation, when I know what's going on, when I know I'm safe, it's easier to stay myself. I think-and I am going to ask that our first time is at the Tower so JARVIS can monitor us and so you can get to back up if something does happen-that if I'm in control while we're having sex, then I'll stay myself."

"Okay. I think I get what you're saying. And it's relevant to my interests. But how in control are we talking?"

"I'd prefer to top, at least at first. Maybe once we've got used to each other we can try the other way around. And we're going to negotiate everything before we do anything. I need to know that I can stop at any time. That I can get up and walk away. I need to know that if I tell you to do something or not to do something, then you'll listen."

"And is that because of the Hulk?" There was a pause and Bruce looked away.

"Yes. But also because of me. I've always needed to be in control in those sorts of situations. Intimate situations. It makes it easier for me. Always has." He smiled, a little shyly. "I know it's a lot, and maybe-"

"I'm okay with that. Well, most of that. And I need the same things. Stop means stop and no means no. I... I'm not sure about you topping. I think we'd need to build up to that. And I might not... I don't know if I'll be able to..." he trailed off and hunched his shoulders, chewing on his lower lip.

"So we'll take it slow. Really slow. And we'll listen to each other." Bruce smiled, and Clint nodded. "Would you mind if I hugged you?" Bruce asked. Instead of answering, Clint just threw himself around the table at Bruce, holding him tight, and Bruce hugged him back hard.

Coulson went back to his Bus and his new team and moved on.

Their first date went... okay. Clint cooked, and they curled up on his couch and watched Dog Cops, just like they said they would. Well, actually, they didn't see much of Dog Cops. Instead, they indulged in a long, slow make out session. Clint had started it, tentatively leaning into Bruce and nuzzling against his neck. Bruce had chuckled and put his hand on Clint's thigh in response. They'd moved against each other, tasting and kissing and figuring each other out.

Clint didn't like it when Bruce loomed over him (or rather, he liked it too much and was terrified at the same time). Bruce didn't like it when Clint did something unexpected without warning him (he moved a hand across from Bruce's thigh to his groin, and Bruce drew in a sharp, quick breath and then gently moved Clint's hand back to where it had been). Clint liked having his neck kissed, and when Bruce asked if he could leave a mark, he said yes without thinking about it (which was good. If he'd thought about it, he would have tied himself in knots and worried about what it meant and if he was ready for people to see and whether he wanted a mark of ownership on his neck again). Bruce liked it when Clint went lax under him, which happened the first time he marked Clint's neck.

Neither of them liked it when they needed to stop, but it was necessary. Otherwise they'd push each other too far, too fast.

It wasn't perfect. They tripped over each other's boundaries more than once. The slow pace irritated them both, even as they knew it was essential. It scared Bruce how much trust Clint put in both him and the Other Guy. It scared Clint too.

But it worked.

"It's okay. We're going to help you. Trickshot sent us to take care of you." there were three of them, grown men, easily twice his size. And they were able bodied, but he was still in casts and he hadn't eaten or really slept in three days.

"Yeah, right. Because Trick cared about me, that's why he beat the crap out of me and dumped me on the street." He was backed into an alley, there was no way he was getting away.

"He said you were a good kid and a great shot." The spokesman moved forward, his hands raised submissively. "He didn't want you ending up dead because of a mistake."

"A mistake? They were stealing from the circus!" he was distracted, trying to watch them all at once and argue with the main guy. He wasn't sure which one moved first, but suddenly they were all on him, grabbing him, hurting him. He fought like an animal in a trap, but he knew he wasn't going to get away.

He woke up in a bedroom. It was warm and clean and he was in a bed. It was...nice. He tried to sit up, and that was when he realised he'd added to his injuries. His ribs, which had been sore before, were screaming at him and he felt dizzy and his head ached.

He decided not to leave the bed yet. He looked around the room as best he could, and he noticed the bars on the windows and the lack of handle on the door pretty quickly. Whoever had him meant to keep him.

The first time they had sex did not go well.

Clint tried to give too much, and then flinched and had to safe word out, even though they weren't doing anything strange or extreme. They hadn't even been trying to go all the way. When they started up again, they got further. Not very much further, but still...

Clint was so tense that Bruce struggled to even get one finger into him, and when he tried for two, Clint made a pained noise and tried to pull away. He was so scared and so desperate and it was so clear he wanted this, in spite of his fear... and that made Bruce so very angry. Not that Clint was scared, not because they had to stop (again), but because someone had made what should have been a wonderful loving experience for them both into something dark and twisted. Clint shouldn't be afraid when they were in bed together.

Bruce pulled back and tried to breathe, but he could feel himself slipping, and JARVIS spoke up warning them that Bruce's vitals were exceeding the safety limits.

Neither of them slept well. Bruce's dreams were tinged green and he smashed in his sleep, frustrated. Clint had nightmares of his early years and things done to him in the dark. The less said about that, the better.

It took a long time for them to work back up to sex.

The next time went better.

"Okay?"

"Yes. Please. Please."

"Okay, easy." Bruce brushed his fingers (the ones not inside Clint) through Clint's hair, reassuring. His other hand moved slowly and steadily, and he added a third finger. Clint's hands were twisted in the sheets, but he wasn't allowed to touch, he wasn't allowed to let go.

Bruce moved down Clint's body so he could look at where his fingers were moving, and at Clint's straining cock.

"You want this," Bruce said, his tone gentle and his voice soft. "You want me to do this. I'm here and you're here and we're doing this together."

"Please, Bruce. I need... I need..."

"What do you need?"

"More! Please!"

"Okay. You're ready. I'm here. I've got you." He pulled his fingers out, keeping up a reassuring mutter. "You're mine and I'm yours and we're here together. I've got you." He positioned himself and eased in slowly, then stopped for a moment, letting them both get used to the sensation. Then he pulled back until only the very tip of his cock was inside Clint and powered back in. The noise Clint made... it was... Bruce wanted to hear it again, so he pulled out. Slowly, slowly, then he rammed back in and that little mewl of sound was punched out of Clint again.

"So good for me, Clint. So good. You want this so much. I want this so much. I've got you, you're so good, I've got you."

"Please!"

They moved together, their hips snapping and their bodies rocking. Bruce closed his eyes and just kept going. It was perfect. It was everything. It was them.

Clint came untouched at a word from Bruce, and Bruce fucked him through it as Clint clenched down through his orgasm. Then he kept fucking him until he came too, panting and still talking.

"So good, Clint, so good for me." Bruce's whole body went limp, but he caught himself before his weight could fall on Clint. Clint didn't like to feel trapped. Or he did. But only sometimes and if he knew it was coming and if he knew who was doing the trapping. Clint was confused about feeling trapped.

They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, stuck together with cum and sweat and lube.

"Okay?" Clint asked after a long moment, his voice slurred and fucked out.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Okay?" Clint repeated, his tone firmer.

"Yeah," Bruce said. "Okay. Better than okay. Good."

"Good."

"And you?"

Clint thought about it for a moment, knowing that Bruce wouldn't accept a flippant answer.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

"Good. Then let's shower."

They didn't live happily ever after because that's not the life they chose, but they are content. For a while anyway. There's always another crisis on the horizon and always something rocking the boat, but together? The two of them are unstoppable and they're happy for the first time in a very, very long time.

Th-th-th that's all folks! For now...