A Gift From: geckoholic
Title: the light on your door (to show that you're home)
A Gift For: franztastisch
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Choose Not To Warn: mentioned/implied sex work
Summary/Prompt Used: Bit of a mesh up of sex worker AU, Clint and Nat inviting a third, and the given song prompt.
Author's Note: Happy secret santa! ♥


the light on your door (to show that you're home)

The hotel they picked isn’t top class. It doesn’t have to be, of course, he made no such demands, and it’s not shabby either. The decor is a bit dated, the furniture past their prime, but the staff is nice, it’s clean, air-conditioned and the air is lightly scented to leave the impression of a house in the countryside. Not the worst place for a hookup, all in all.

Bucky’s handed the room key at the front desk with a smile and the information that the other two guests are already in their booked suite. He’s surprised by that; he’s already a bit early, and he can’t decide whether he’d preferred to have arrived first. No use in pondering that now, though. He enters the elevator with sweaty hands, rubs them on his jeans and takes a deep breath. Tells himself it’s normal to be nervous. They seemed very nice on the phone. He told them it’s his first time and they weren’t bothered by that, so there’s no reason to worry.

The elevator pings at his floor. Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, takes another breath, and heads for the suite. Knocks, even though he’s got the key, and waits for the door to click and be opened for him.

Natasha, the woman he talked to, opens the door, and she’s breathtaking. Long red hair cascades down to a little past her shoulders in gentle waves. She’s wearing a light beige neglige that hugs her curves. Her dark blue eyes are crinkled at the corners with her smile.

“Bucky, right?” she asks, already stepping out of the way to let him into the room.

He nods, returning her smile. Takes a slight bow because he thinks it fits the occasion, and it makes her giggle. She points toward the open bedroom door and waits until he’s walked past her in that direction before she closes the door. It feels nice; it feels like she’s giving him an out, an opportunity to change his mind with no questions asked.

The guy, Clint, is half-sitting, half-lying on the bed. He’s wearing nothing but purple boxer briefs, the color so obnoxious that it makes Bucky want to laugh. As if he noticed, Clint grins and tugs at the waistband, letting it snap back to his skin. It’s silly, sort of breaks the mood, but it goes a long way to calm Bucky’s nerves.

It also remind him that he’s got some catching up to do, that he’s still fully dressed, wearing his jacket even, and he starts by chucking out of that. Natasha takes it off his shoulders the rest of the way and folds it, puts it on a chair near the bed.

“May I?” she asks, brushing her finger past the line of buttons on his shirt, and he nods, exhales, luxuriates in the feeling of her fingers touching him through the thin fabric. They’ll soon be touching him a lot more, and that thought sends the first strike of heat to his groin.

She takes her time, sending glances to Clint a couple of times, and it’s only when the shirt joins the jacket on that chair and he’s unbuttoning his jeans that he notices that Clint is already touching himself through his briefs. It accelerates the mood towards something urgent, something hungry, and suddenly Bucky’s glad he chose to go commando. He kicks off his shoes, pulls his jeans down and steps out of them, and then he’s standing in front of them completely naked with a rapidly filling erection. Clint whistles, still rubbing at himself. Natasha crawls onto the bed with him, but it’s Bucky she looks up and down appreciatively.

“Would you touch yourself for us?” she asks, and Bucky’s hand all but flies to his cock halfway through the question.

Maybe he should be feeling awkward, playing with himself as he stands in front of them, but instead it’s just incredibly hot. They’re both staring at him, like they’re spellbound, like it’s the most beautiful sight they’ve ever had in front of them. He feels wanted. He feels cherished.

His eyes flick back and forth between them. Natasha has a hand down her panties now too and the outline of Clint’s erection is clearly visible through his briefs; there’s even a small wet spot gathering at the tip. That’s because of him; looking at him arouses them.

He doesn’t realize he’s close to coming until the first rush of orgasm barrels into him. He’s jerking himself off for them to see and he’s about to give them a money shot, and before he can wrap his head around it he’s spilling all over his hand. His knees go weak, making it necessary for him to reach out for that damn chair in order to steady himself.

Natasha calls for him, saying his name. Clint is suddenly jumping off the bed and appears next to him, helping him to lie down beside her. They both hug him. Bucky sighs, exhausted but happy, sandwiched between them.

“You did very well,” Natasha praises while Clint is rubbing his back, little circles that keep him grounded in his own body. The fantasy is over and these two people are back to being his Natasha and Clint, his partners, his lovers, the center of his world. He’s so in love with them, more than he could ever put into words, he trusts them completely, their touch always both thrilling and soothing. He feels safe and sheltered in their arms. “Thank you so much. We love you.”