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Thumping the bag down with huff, Clint sat down on the plane’s cockpit’s floor, and attempted to get dressed in the turbulence. Throwing off his shirt was the easy part, but then he had to pull his tight-fitting trousers off and pull on his assassin suit. Clint was about to scoff at Phil for making him leave for the mission before he was ready, and ask him to help him, but the older man was staring at him with such intent that it was making Clint uncomfortable. It was only when Clint began pulling the creases in his legs up like he would with a wetsuit that he realised what had made Phil so silent - he’d seen his soulmark for the first time.
Whilst it was common to hide your soulmark with a patch or a band, Clint chose not to cover his. After all, what was the point when it was only noticeable when he was naked? If people wanted to be respectful with marks on their face, neck or arms, fine, but that wasn’t Clint’s situation.
Everyone was born with a tattoo-like mark on their body that matched the one of their soulmate’s, and although Clint didn’t actively search for his soulmate like other love-blinded youngsters, he did know that the red aster on his thigh symbolised undying devotion - ironic considering he hadn’t been fussed about soulmates, until he met Phil.
“What?” Clint muttered, standing up in his suit. “Cat got your tongue? It’s covered now - get over it.” He told his handler that he may or may not have been developing non-platonic feelings for. Phil didn’t do casual dating like Clint did, so the only way Clint would be able to be with him was if he was his soulmate. However, Clint didn’t want to keep his hopes up just because he was shocked. Maybe Phil loved flowers and wanted to work out what type his was, or maybe he was being critical about Clint’s lack of patch? In the past, Clint had searched Phil’s file desperately for any clues about his soulmark, but it wasn’t in view in any photo and since soulmarks were private, SHIELD didn’t record the marks of their agents. What if Phil was old fashioned and didn’t like it when people put their marks on show?
“Clint.” Phil murmured, saying his name like Clint was a delicate petal. A small smile appeared on his face and Clint waited, heart pounding in his chest, for Phil to tell him why he was suddenly so sappy.
“Yeah?” Clint held his breath.
“Your soulmark’s a red aster, right?” Phil asked.
“Yes.” Clint replied, slowly. “Why?”
Silently, Phil walked towards him, and cupped his cheeks in his hands, but before Clint could say anything, the older man was already kissing him on the lips. “I love you.” Phil breathed, pulling away and leaving Clint shellshocked. “I’ve always wanted it to be you, but I didn’t know how to ask. There’s no one else I’d want as a soulmate.”
Clint grinned. “I love you, too.” He replied, wrapping his arms around Phil’s shoulder and kissing him again. “My soulmate.” He murmured.
Maybe being trapped with someone for all eternity wasn’t so bad, especially if he could wake up to Phil Coulson everyday.
“Your soulmate.” Phil smiled. “Forever and always.”
(Mission by damned, they turned the plane around and went back to Phil’s for the best sex of Clint’s life. Glad that they’d finally worked it out, Fury turned a blind eye when they came to work the next day, holding hands, as sweaty, scruffy messes with hickeys all over their bodies. Yeah, Clint could be very happy.)