Three
People often didn't believe Clint, when he told them that he had made a vow only to really kill people for the sake of the human race, the country, or whatever. That he was not that mindless assassin that he was before, any more. So when they asked him to take the test on his dynamic, he did it, because people said that it was for the good of the country, or whatever. That they knew as much about their unknown hero as was possible, so that he couldn't get into trouble.
As he sat through the questions, and the doctor recognised each and every one of his reactions to the questions, both verbal, and physical, he wondered if he was making the wrong decision, but he didn't turn back, because he'd learnt to have trust in people that he worked with. Or tried to have trust with them, because that didn't always work out.
After the day when it was announced that congress had voted on the bill that basically renewed the thought of submissives as second class citizens, Clint had wondered if having the test so close to it was a plan of Fury's. If he wanted to know for that exact reason. If Fury knew that the bill was going to be voted in, so Clint had to get tested in time for it. It was a very plausible reason, indeed.
Agreeing to Coulson's collar was agreeing to being confined by someone that he trusted. It was Coulson, and Clint had known him for a long time, and definitely trusted him. To think that now he would be getting a piece of leather around his neck that told everyone else that shook Clint up a little bit.
Clint had definitely seen porn where the submissive was the one gruelling on the floor. He'd definitely seen porn where they'd been tied up and whipped, and they'd bled. Hell, he'd seen a lot of porn, and he could admit that, and he'd gotten off on a lot of it. However, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to do it in real life. Be that person on the bottom. The person that was definitely not equal to the other person that they were having sex with, or whatever they were doing.
He had thought about it. He'd thought about what it would be like to submit to Coulson. He'd thought about what it would feel like for Coulson to look after him. He thought about it, but it didn't seem like him, and he couldn't believe how wrong that test must have been. The doctor must have been wrong. He must have gotten the scale wrong. Instead of 97, his score had to have been 3, right? Because Clint couldn't help but think that he wasn't submissive at all.
“Barton!” Coulson's voice jaunted Clint from his entrancing thoughts. Bringing him to attention.
Coulson saw Clint coming to attention, and allowed him to gain himself before giving him the order, “Conference room. I need to talk to you without other people being able to hear.”
No one was in the conference room this time. Not like last time, where they'd told him he had to take a test that would determine how everyone in the public would treat him. No, the black table was just as shiny as it was after anyone in the cleaning team got their hands on it. It meant that no one had even been in the room at all that day.
Clint sat his pleather covered bottom down on the plastic chair that was right in front of him. Unlike what he expected, Coulson had not been following him to the conference room, and came in two minutes later, after Clints fingers were already started to ache because he'd been twiddling his thumbs, and pulling on his fingers.
When Coulson entered the room, he was holding something in his hands, and Clint recognised it immediately. It was an inch wide, and about half a metre long. It was a collar, and judging, it was Clint's collar.
Clint felt himself shiver beneath Coulson's gaze as the older man shut the door behind him.
Clint tried to make words come out, but he couldn't, so he looked down, and then he looked up again, Coulson's gaze was more intimidating than it had ever been before, and Clint wasn't expecting the words that would come out of the man's thin mouth.
“Kneel.”
He didn't follow the instruction, and his mouth wasn't obeying him. Muttering gibberish that was actually supposed to be a protest to Coulson's order.
“Kneel.” Coulson repeated. Eyes beginning to fill with something that was a cross between fury and delight.
Clint's body was still frozen as Coulson gripped his arm and pulled him from the chair onto the carpet. He barely even reacted as the push caused him to plant towards the ground, torso first.
“Kneel.” Again.
Clint was pulled onto his knees by the other man, but he didn't look into Coulson's eyes. He looked at the ground. He didn't want to face that intimidation that was created when he looked into the authority figures 'windows to his soul'.
A finger underneath Clint's chin raised it, making him look towards the dominant.
Coulson told Clint that he would be putting the collar around his neck. Told him that now, he would be Coulson's submissive. That in public, he would be expected to obey every order that was given to him by Coulson. That he would be expected to be that submissive person that everyone expected, but that he wouldn't have to change. Coulson didn't want to lose that great agent that he'd worked for years with. He didn't want Clint to be coddled. He wanted him to be a surprise. No one suspected a submissive was a former assassin.
“And you can call me sir in public, and Phil in private.” 'Phil' told him, whilst patting his head.
Clint shivered, “Yes, Phil.”
“Public means anywhere within shield, Clint. Anybody could be watching.” Phil smiled, walking towards the door again.
“Follow me, then. My lovely sub.” He taunted, gesturing for Clint to up and follow him through the door.