Phil hires struggling actor Clark Gregg to be his double on an op. Hilarity with Clint ensues. Phil gets jealous.
Up until the point that Clint meets this Clark Gregg guy, he's convinced that SHIELD hiring a double for Phil is the absolute worst idea ever. Then the guy turns around, and all Clint can do for a minute is stare. He's almost convinced that this guy is Phil, that's how closely they resemble each other.
He steps forward and shakes the man's hand. "So, I'm guessing you're Clark?"
The guy – Clark – nods and returns the handshake with a firm grip. "Yes, I am. You must be Agent Barton."
"Clint is fine."
It doesn't take long for Clint to decide he likes this Clark guy. They get on just as easily as he usually does with Phil, and even when things look like they might be going to shit Clark keeps his cool. They manage to prevent catastrophe and get back to the task at hand.
Phil can see most of what's going on, and if he's totally honest with himself, he wishes he was out there with Clint. It's been a while since they've done an op together. After they get back and make it through debriefing, Phil stops them as they're leaving together. "Where are you going, Barton?"
Clint shrugs casually. "I told this guy I'd buy him a beer. He's pretty awesome."
One op turns into a few, and Phil watches as this weird friendship forms. On one hand, he's glad to see Clint actually being sociable, but on the other, he'd rather be the one going places with him. He's not about to tell anyone, though.
It's not until he stumbles upon them in Clint's quarters that he fully acknowledges his secret. He opens the door, a few files in hand, to see his doppelgänger mouthing Clint's neck. He must make a strangled noise, because the next thing he knows, Clint's eyes are wide and on him and he's pushing Clark away.
"You're dismissed, Mr. Gregg," Phil says evenly, surprised that his sudden surge of anger isn't coming through his words. He watches Clark grab his jacket and leave in a hurry, then stalks across the room to Clint. "What's all this about, then?"
"It's not—this sounds terrible, but it's not what it looks like?"
"Isn't it?" Phil presses his thumb into the bruise he can already see on Clint's neck and watches him squirm and bite back a soft noise.
"N-no, it's not." Clint's heart is pounding, and he swallows hard. He can't tell Phil that he didn't mean for that to get away from him, that he would rather it be Phil that he'd been doing these ops with. But Phil is crowding him against the wall, standing too close to not be able to tell.
"Then why don't you explain it to me?" Phil uses his calmest possible voice. Instead of letting him answer, he bites Clint's neck over the mark that's already there, determined to turn it into one of his own.
Clint groans and grinds his hips up against Phil's. He can barely focus on Phil's face when he leans back to examine the new bruise, but he's pretty sure Phil is smiling in a way that he's never seen before. When he finally thinks he has a breath, he says, "I just... wanted it to be you, sir."