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Clint leaned back and watched the video. Being grabbed and dragged and put exactly where you were supposed to go. Yeah, that he could get behind, and he told Phil so. He couldn't help but sit up a bit taller at the praise he received with that admission.
They'd been doing this for a few weeks, and most of Clint's brain was still alternating rapidly between extreme awkwardness and a desire to declare that he won life because he got to sit, leaning into Phil Coulson, while watching and discussing porn.
It had even been Phil's idea. When they'd finally admitted to each other that they were headed into the territory of power exchange and that they both wanted Phil at the helm, Clint had been ready to dive in head first. But Phil had wanted to talk... and talk... and talk some more.
It had taken two or three weeks before Clint realized something that changed everything. Phil, the man who stared down superheroes and shot at gods, was afraid. Phil Coulson's biggest fear was that he would stomp right over one of Clint's hard limits because Clint wouldn't tell him about it. And this was Phil. They would keep talking about it until he wasn't afraid. But this was Clint, and he really hated talking.
So they had settled on this. Watching scenarios and talking about them, pretending to be detached from it. They got to talk about two other people. Not them. And Clint could make it work. He had to. Phil needed him to.
So he could tell Phil that being grabbed and dragged and put in place was hot. He wasn't sure about being pushed to his knees, but he could make it work. Then the man doing the pushing spoke, "Know your place." And the sub went down, pressing his face to the floor.
Clint's whole body froze. But he could Phil's eyes on him. Phil was always watching every nuance. The video stopped. And there was the waiting. No one on this planet, or any of the rest, could wait like Phil Coulson.
Clint rapidly tried to sort out what he was feeling. Most of what he had seen. All the power, all the command, still hot. He wanted. He could go with that. He could say it honestly. But he knew Phil Coulson's greatest fear. And he knew Phil Coulson deserved better. The words "know your place" echoed in his head and stepped on so many of his issues. Where he had come from, what he had done, where he deserved to be.
He stared carefully at his hands feeling the presence of Phil waiting, and finally asked, "Is that what you want, Sir?"
There was a soft hum as Phil considered. A hand landed near Clint's, not quite touching, but there if Clint wanted. "Do you know your place, Clint?"
Clint's head jerked up in surprise his eyes a bit wild. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't at all.
"Oh, Sweetheart," Phil's whole body radiated his need to gather Clint to him, but he resisted. "You have no idea at all, do you?" He tilted his head and gave Clint a soft smile. "You need to know your place, little boy." His eyes caught Clint's and held them. "Your place is in my bed, and in my arms, and by my side. Clint, your place is in my heart, and in my soul, and in my life. And if you don't realize that yet, then I haven't been doing right by you, and that ends now."
"My place..." Clint finally spoke a little dazed.
"Do you know your place?" The words that from a stranger had seemed so harsh were now pure love on Phil's lips.
"With you." Clint moved to Phil who responded automatically. "I'm Yours."
"Yes, Clint." Phil kissed the top of his head. "And I'm yours too."