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“TV?” Clint asks as they settle in the living room after dinner.
Phil nods absently, settling his floor pillow beside Clint’s leg and sitting down. He leans against Clint, facing the TV, but Clint can tell he’s not paying any attention as Clint flicks through the channels. His mind is elsewhere - and it doesn’t seem to be a bad elsewhere, so Clint leaves him be until he’s ready to talk.
It doesn’t take long. Clint watches half of a show, gets bored, and mutes it while he flicks again. A few seconds later, Phil looks up, smiling, and Clint returns it as he threads a hand into Phil’s hair. “Bored?” Phil asks.
“Not bored enough to do anything about it.”
Phil hums his agreement - lazy nights in are still something of a luxury, especially for the two of them who normally struggle to do anything mindless for more than a few minutes at a time. “We could talk?” he suggests, in a tone that’s almost casual.
“And you’ve got a topic in mind, I’m guessing?”
Phil shrugs. “Well, I’ve been thinking -"
"Those are dangerous words."
"My apologies. I forgot you wanted a sub to be seen but not heard."
Clint laughs and tugs lightly at Phil's hair before continuing the slow strokes of before. "Well, you are beautiful enough that I could just look at you all day and be satisfied," he says, smiling when Phil blushes. "But I love your mind too. What's on it?"
"Nothing pressing. I realised that a safeword just isn't going to work for me."
Clint's hand stills. "Phil," he says after a moment, very carefully, "I don't care how much you trust me or think I won't ever do you wrong - you are having a safeword."
After another pause, Phil turns to look up at him, and he's smiling, soft and amused. "A safeword," he emphasises. "It's not that I don't want one, it's that I don't want one. I have seventeen different codes for retreat in the field based on the tiniest of variables - one cover-all word isn't going to cut it for me."
Clint feels a bit sheepish, but mostly relieved. "Multiple safewords," he says with a nod. "Gotcha. Did something prompt this?"
Phil rises, sits down next to Clint, and curls up against his side, head on Clint's shoulder. "Did the training exercises on field words today," he says, catching Clint's hand when Clint wraps his arm around him and lacing it with his own. "Got me thinking. And I just like to know we're always on the same page. Safewords haven't been a big part of our relationship to date, so we don't really think about whether they're good or not."
Clint hums. "Is that an indication that we aren't pushing limits far enough?"
Phil shrugs. "You know I'm up for trying new things, but I like where we're at right now. A good, intense scene every once in awhile, and what we're comfortable with the rest of the time. I like having something familiar to come home to, y'know?"
Clint knows and understands. Phil isn't the only one who benefits from structure and routine at home. "So, safewords," he says. "Anything in mind?"
Phil shrugs again, stroking his fingers along the back of Clint's hand. "Can we brainstorm it another day? I'm not sure I'm in the mood for thinking about all the reasons I could need a safeword."
"That's fair." Clint watches Phil for a few moments, smiling as Phil traces a finger along each of Clint's, mapping out all the tiny scars and marks. "Someone's tactile tonight," he says.
Phil smiles, going a little pink in the way Clint finds utterly adorable. "I like touching you," he says. On anybody else it would be innuendo - on Phil, it's simple truth. "And," Phil adds, "as much as I love my restraints, they do tend to come out more times than not when we're... intimate, which means I need to take all the opportunities I get to actually touch you freely."
Clint chuckles. "Have at it, baby," he says, and yeah, that sounds considerably less sweet and innocent than Phil's comments.
Phil raises an eyebrow. "Is that permission to touch as I see fit, master?" he asks, and his tone has slipped to match Clint's. Wonderful.
Clint leans back and stretches, slow and deliberate. "Permission very much granted," he says.
Phil's smile is just as slow, and deliciously wicked. Clint adores his boy when he's being sweet, but he sure as hell doesn't complain when Phil decides to go for something a little less innocent.
Boredom quickly becomes a nonissue.
***
They come back to it eventually. And when they do, Phil realises just how much brainstorming he actually needs to do.
Phil’s never needed much experience with safewords is the thing. He can count the number of times he’s had a serious Dom on one hand, and the number of high intensity scenes (before Clint) is easily calculated without needing to reach for his toes. And even now, with a serious Dom who takes him to all levels of subspace, Phil has yet to do more than call yellow - and even then, Clint’s usually halfway to backing off and lowering the intensity before Phil needs to speak. They’re both careful, Clint pays attention, and Phil isn’t afraid to stick to his limits. Safewording is rare.
But it’s important. From the beginning, Phil’s at least always had the traffic lights to fall back on, and then a general safeword while they were still in the early stages, still learning each other’s tells and nuances, at a time when Clint would much rather stop everything if Phil was uncomfortable than try to ease off slowly. They never used that either - and now that word has been added to Phil’s vocabulary of safewords, meaning it’s for your sake that we’re stopping this now, I’m fine but I think this is hurting you without you realising.
Phil can’t think of a scenario where he’ll ever need to call that one. But then he can’t think of a scenario where he’ll need to tell Clint to take away my right to make any decisions, I can’t be trusted right now, and there’s a word for that too. It’s about preparation and contingencies and backups - Phil has never actually needed the fourth concealed gun he keeps on his person when he’s outside of the Avengers tower, but he doesn’t feel completely safe without it. It’s the same for his words.
And it’s no judgement on Clint. On the contrary, Clint also seems more at ease knowing how many ways Phil has to get out of a situation if he doesn’t want to be there. They spend an afternoon going over an array of scenarios, some of their own experiences, and a few of their own fears that haven’t quite been voiced yet. Phil complies quite the dictionary of safewords, and Clint gets several of his own too - and suddenly safewording, such a rare part of Phil’s former relationships and scenes, becomes more common.
Phil knows that for many people, calling a safeword is the absolute last resort - that they’re at the end of their rope and can’t communicate properly any other way. And yes, that’s what the ultimate safeword is for (the one that Phil still hopes he will never ever have to use), but Phil likes having his litany of safewords, because they suit his and Clint’s style of communication, already established after so many years of working together. The safeword sets the scene, brings the other up to speed fast on the general situation, and then communication about the specifics can come later.
So yes, maybe many of Phil’s safeword situations aren’t ‘real’ safeword situations, but he doesn’t care. Clint has helped Phil accept that there’s no wrong way to submit, as long as he’s happy and safe and everything is consensual. And if Phil feels the safest with ten different words for I think I’m about to hit my limit and I don’t want to push it any further tonight, then that’s between him, God, and Clint.
***
At first, they set the ultimate safeword - the panicked, stop everything, things have not gone according to plan and I am freaking out safeword - as the same as their Code Black field word. The logic is simple; it's the first word they both go to if things have suddenly fucked up and they need to let the team (or each other) know to stop right the fuck now. It's especially good for if they don't know why they're stopping, or if they don't have time to communicate the cause.
The logic is fine in theory. But the first time Phil calls it out in the field, sudden word of a bomb seconds away from killing their agents if they don't stop, Clint feels his heart leap into his throat. He freezes along with everybody else, then follows Phil's calm orders, but he's shaking as he does, and every instinct tells him to break ranks, to go find his sub and comfort him. Knowing that Phil's actually fine does nothing to alleviate that feeling.
Once it's all over and they've cleared medical, Clint grabs Phil, drags him into the nearest maintenance closet, and kisses him long and hard. "We need a new safeword," he murmurs, nuzzling Phil's neck, possessive and clingy but unable to care.
"Safeword?" Phil asks, clearly struggling with the sudden shift. "Why are you thinking... oh." Then, softer, with more purpose - "Oh."
"Mhm," Clint confirms, and Phil's arms wind around him tighter. "Just stay here a sec, okay? Let me just..."
"Of course."
Phil stays perfectly still for a few good minutes until Clint's heartbeat slows, then his hands begin moving - rubbing gently through Clint's scalp, a soft squeeze of both shoulders, fingers tracing down his arms then light taps against his ribs. Clint smiles and stays still in return, recognising the actions for what they are. No matter how clear the verdict is from medical, Phil always needs to do his own checks. Possibly it comes from the early days of Clint trying to lie about as many injuries as possible to get out from medical supervision quicker; mostly, Clint's sure, it's just comforting for Phil to see Clint back in one piece.
"Feel better?" Phil asks when they break apart.
Clint nods. "You?"
Phil surveys him for a moment, then moves closer and presses a kiss to Clint's cheek, just below one of the few scrapes he sustained. "Now I do," he says.
Clint grins at him. "I have the cutest sub in the world," he says.
"And don't you forget it," Phil says smugly. "Especially not when we go out there and I'm Big Bad Boss Man again."
"Speaking of which, I have a question for Mr Boss Man."
"Mm?"
"How are we getting out of here without it looking like we were necking like a pair of teenagers?"
Phil smirks. "Well, Barton, perhaps you should have thought of that in the first place."
Clint just smirks right back at him. "Oh well, if you're gonna be like that," he says, then pushes the grate open above his head and swings himself up into it. "See you at your office."
Phil still beats him back, and refuses to explain how.
***
Phil’s always been good at communicating during scenes. Having multiple safewords in his vocabulary has only made communication better.
When the bed tries to tilt sideways, Phil knows there's a problem, and the appropriate safeword - something is wrong, there’s no need for panic just yet but there might be if we don’t call this now - slips out of his lips, clear, confident and unhurried.
Clint puts down the flogger and drops to his knees next to Phil, meeting his eyes. "What's up, beautiful?" he asks softly as he unbinds Phil's wrists, matching his calm tone.
"I'm getting dizzy."
"Okay." Clint presses a hand to his back, carefully avoiding the lash marks, and encourages Phil to lean forward, putting his head between his knees. "What did you have for lunch today?"
"A sandwich." Phil pauses. "Well, half a sandwich. I was rushing between meetings."
"Yeah, you've been on your feet most of the day, haven't you? I know you only grabbed an apple for breakfast since you were in a rush then too, and you said you'd make up for it at lunchtime. And you only grazed at dinner."
"I should've known then," Phil says. "If I don't eat properly, I lose my appetite... and get a bit snippy."
"Hence topping you to get you to calm down a little, from what I thought was just a stressful day." Clint sighs. "I should have checked first. Good boy for using your safeword. Once you're feeling a bit better, I'll get you some food."
Phil lifts his head cautiously, relieved that the black spots are fading out. "I'm okay now," he says.
"Come and lie down." Clint gets him settled on the bed, then goes to the fridge and brings back some water. "I'm sure you're a little dehydrated too," he says, and helps Phil drink. "Generally if you forget to look after one thing, you forget the lot."
"I'm sorry, Clint."
"I know, sweetheart. I forgive you. But you know what comes next."
Phil nods. "Food diary."
"Three weeks this time I think," Clint says, and stands. "And I'll be joining you for lunch for the rest of the week - on my terms, not yours."
Phil doesn't argue. Clint knows better than to interrupt something really important, but he will happily shove paperwork aside to make room for lunch at the most inconvenient times. "Okay. Thank you."
Clint kisses his forehead. "I'll steal some of Bruce's quiche if he doesn't mind, and I know Steve and Bucky have brownies hidden somewhere. They'll hand over a couple if I say you need them."
“So I’ll get quiche, and you’ll make puppy dog eyes at the brownies until I eventually insist you have them.”
“Exactly,” Clint says, and leaves in search of food.
***
They rarely fight. Good communication is etched into the way they live their lives already, so usually there's no need to argue something out to make the other see their point of view.
But sometimes there is. And there's a word for that too - because otherwise it's very easy to confuse backchat and arguing, and Clint doesn't want to make that mistake. Reprimanding Phil for speaking up about something that's bothering him is never Clint's goal, and he knows that sometimes a point just needs to be argued. Phil is always able to speak freely from a place of submission, but sometimes Phil needs things to be more equal to be able to talk properly.
And that’s where they are today. A casual conversation about the amount of time Clint’s spent alone with Bucky in the past couple of weeks has escalated quickly from a ‘casual’ observation to something that’s making Phil’s tone brittle and edgy. Clint - who hasn’t noticed an increased amount of time spent with Bucky and is pretty sure that Phil’s just being irrational - is very close to reminding Phil that this isn’t how they have a respectful conversation, when Phil sighs and safewords - I need to get this out of my system, and I need you to let me, no matter how rude I get. Clint snaps his mouth shut, nods, and keeps it shut while Phil talks.
There’s been no change in tone or volume, and Phil’s still wearing his collar, but the air is just that tiny bit different. It isn’t like work, where everything to do with Phil’s subbiness is pushed aside and ignored. This is more about taking away whatever fear Phil might have about speaking too freely, and knowing that Clint won’t punish him for anything he says.
Not that Clint would generally punish Phil for speaking at all freely. But it makes Phil feel better, and that’s really all that matters.
“… and I know it’s irrational,” Phil concludes, “but in the end, it’s you and another sub and Bucky is seriously fucking perfect and I just worry, okay?”
“Okay,” Clint says calmly, smiling a little when Phil blinks at him. “Honey, of course it’s okay to worry - we all do it, we can’t help it, and it would be wrong to tell you off for it. I worry when you and Steve get along so well. What’s important is to remember that you’re wearing my collar, which comes with my promise that you are mine and only you are mine.”
Phil touches the collar, relaxing a little as he does. “Yeah. I know. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Clint kisses his forehead. “It’s fine. Feeling better?”
“Yeah. Safeword revoked.”
“Thanks, baby. If it becomes an issue again, tell me in the moment, okay? I don’t like it when you dwell on things.”
“I know. I will.”
Clint kisses the tip of Phil’s nose, smiling at the fondly exasperated look he gets in return. Phil is genuinely the light of his life, and the ease with which they resolve their issues only serves to remind Clint how very good they are for each other.
***
Their safewords might usually be for the bedroom, but they can come in handy at other times too.
Clint urns to Phil midway through a team debrief meeting, safewords - I need out, and I need to be alone - then stands up and walks out of the room. Phil watches him go, then turns to the others who have fallen silent in confusion. “Leave him,” he says. “Bruce, continue.”
“But shouldn’t you -?” Tony begins.
Phil fixes him with a firm look. “What I should do is continue with this meeting,” he says - then relents a little, because the others do actually look worried. “Your very smart technology will inform me when I need to leave. Until then, I don’t follow.”
Natasha nods - she might be familiar with a different set of words, but she knows when Clint’s called it just as well as Phil does. “Bruce, keep going,” she says.
Phil’s calm exterior is definitely just exterior - the safeword Clint’s used tells Phil a lot more than simply that he needed to leave. It’s one of his Dom words, meaning he needs to step down from dominating Phil while he deals with something, and it doesn’t make sense because they’re still in work mode. As he takes notes and asks questions, Phil’s mind is also replaying the earlier part of the meeting, then, failing that, the situation they were talking about - a city-scale terrorist threat the team had been called in for three days ago. Something has triggered a Dom safeword in a neutral situation, and Phil needs to work out what.
Five minutes after Clint’s departure, Phil has the eureka moment. He sits through the last of Natasha’s recollections, then puts his notes away. “Good. I’ll submit these notes to R&D and let you know if there are any questions. I suppose the last thing we have to discuss is the cost of -“
“Agent Coulson, your presence is requested.”
“ - damages, which Tony will cover without arguing, that’s everything, meeting dismissed.”
Phil’s left the room before Tony absorbs that enough to argue. He takes the waiting lift, which seems to move faster than usual, and is back in their apartment in a matter of minutes, hunting down his Dom.
Clint’s sitting at the kitchen table, fiddling with his wrist guard. Phil sits down across from him, plucks it off him, and takes Clint’s hands. “You didn’t fail me out there,” he says.
“I know. I got the shots you wanted.”
“Don’t be deliberately obtuse, it doesn’t suit you. You did not fail me as my Dom out there.”
“Phil -“
“Nope, no way.” Phil squeezes his hands gently. “Clint, I’m not letting you do this. To let some asshole cop, who dared to interrupt you while you’re in the line of duty and try to tell you that you’re a bad Dom for letting your sub fight, get to you like this, is unacceptable.”
“Jesus, I’m glad we don’t ever switch,” Clint jokes weakly. “You’re stern as fuck.”
“Sometimes you need it,” Phil says, but softens his tone. “You know full well that you’re the best Dom I’ve ever had and could ever want. You know that the worst thing you could ever do as my Dom is not let me work. I don’t give a fuck what that looks like on the outside, because all that matters is how we are in here together. And in here, we’re happy and consensual and meet each other’s needs and that’s all we need. So anybody who wants to pass judgement on us can go and fuck themselves hard. Preferably with a cactus.”
Clint blinks at him a few times, then starts laughing. “I love you so much, baby.”
Phil smiles, and lifts one of Clint’s hands to kiss it. “Better?”
“Yeah, I guess. I just got caught up on how much better you deserve.”
“The only thing I deserve that I don’t have is a Dom who’s confident in how good he is to me.”
“I’m confident that I love you, and that I’ll always give you the best I can. Will that do?”
Phil leans across the table to kiss him. “Yeah, that’ll do,” he says. “Are you back in control, or still tapped out?”
Clint considers. “I mean, I said I never want us to switch… but maybe I like you looking after me a bit? Just for tonight?”
“In that case,” Phil says, standing and drawing Clint up with him, “I’m giving you a proper back massage, because you did good today and you earned it.”
“You’re my favourite person in the world,” Clint says, and follows him to the bedroom.
So tonight, Phil will look after his Dom - then tomorrow, he’ll go right back to showing Clint exactly how amazing he is. It might make Phil sad to hear about Clint’s self-doubts, but it’s always a pleasure to try and remove them.
***
It's the nature of their jobs. They both have nightmares, flashbacks, PTSD, and all the hallmarks that come with being SHIELD agents. That's part of why they're so careful with all of this - talking out limits, taking things slow and careful, and of course having so many safewords. For the most part, they both know their major triggers, and are of course sensible enough to be careful after ops to make sure there's nothing new to add to the list.
But sometimes careful isn’t enough. Sometimes, no matter how hard they try, there’s nothing they can do to keep the demons away - especially when neither one of them knows it’s coming.
All Clint knows is that they’re in the middle of a scene, Phil bound beneath him, pliant and needy and begging Clint to just please, stop teasing me, and Clint ignoring him and taking his time, and it’s all so normal, so completely fine, until suddenly Phil shudders hard and shuts down.
It’s only for a second, then his eyes are wide with pure panic, and he’s tugging at the ropes hard. “Red,” he whispers. “Red, Tesseract, Clint I can’t -“
“I’ve got you,” Clint says firmly. “It’s over. You’re safe.”
He analyses Phil in a glance, then pins his hands with one hand and grabs the emergency scissors with the other, freeing Phil fast without letting go. Then Clint gently eases off the pressure, waiting to see how Phil responds - letting him go too quickly can throw him right out, and letting him go at all when Phil still needs to feel secure could be a disaster.
But as soon as Clint's hand is loose enough, Phil slides out of his grip and wraps his arms around himself. His eyes are flitting around the room, unfocused, and a moment later Phil kicks himself off the bed and to the floor. He's in clear protective mode, and Clint freezes for a long, agonising moment, because he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know if Phil needs space or independence or anything, and this is his job, he's meant to know how to care for his sub without needing to ask -
But no amount of Dom arrogance will ever let Clint hurt Phil if there's a way around it, and right now the only person who knows what Phil needs is Phil. Clint kneels just in front of him, keeping his tone very light. "Phil," he murmurs, "I'm sorry, I know you're struggling, but I need you to tell me if you need me to keep my distance."
Phil shakes his head immediately. Clint shifts a little closer and Phil sways towards him, Clint being very careful as he wraps his arms around Phil. If nothing else, he knows Phil’s had an adverse reaction to being restrained, and Clint makes sure Phil feels like he can get away if he needs to, while still knowing he’s loved and cared for and safe.
For now, Phil seems okay with being held, staying perfectly still in Clint’s arms. His breathing slowly settles from the panicked gasps of before, falling in sync with Clint’s purposefully deep breaths. Eventually the tension in Phil’s body lessens, and his arms come around Clint in return. “With me, baby?” Clint asks softly.
“Kind of,” Phil murmurs, muffled against his chest. “Soon.”
“Take your time. If you need anything, just let me know.”
It takes a solid five minutes for Phil to speak again, but his voice is a little steadier when he does. “Water?” he asks.
“Coming right up,” Clint says, gently disentangling from Phil. He reaches for a blanket, wrapping it around Phil’s shoulders, and waits until Phil meets his eyes. “I’ll be back in one minute, okay? Just going to the kitchen.”
“Okay,” Phil says, hugging the blanket tighter around himself. He’s shaking, and Clint isn’t entirely sure whether it’s from cold or emotions, but either way it’s a good incentive to go quickly and get back to Phil fast.
True to his word - because Clint never makes promises he can’t keep, not even by accident - Clint’s back within a minute with water. Phil looks a bit more put together, but still shaky, and Clint carefully hands him the glass. “Slowly,” he says, and waits while Phil takes a few careful sips before handing him the glass back. "Okay?" Clint asks, setting it aside.
Phil nods. His hands are still trembling, and Clint clasps them between his own, rubbing them gently. "That was unexpected," Phil murmurs.
"Some things are," Clint says. "But it happens. That's what safewords are for."
"Am I still good?"
Clint's heart breaks, and he wraps his arms around Phil again. "Yes, sweet boy, of course you are. You did exactly what you were supposed to, and I’m proud of you.”
“You’re proud of me for flipping out?”
Clint carefully keeps his voice soft, because scolding Phil is definitely not going to help right now. “I’m proud of you for using your safeword when you needed it,” he says. “And for being honest with me and yourself afterwards about what you needed to feel okay. You’re doing great, honey.”
Phil sighs. “What do I do now?”
“You stay here and focus on being nice and calm and safe. When you’re feeling better, we’ll talk about what happened.”
Phil nods, then looks up at the bed. “Can we go back up?”
“Of course.” Clint helps Phil back up onto the bed, settling Phil in comfortably. “Give me just a minute, okay?”
Phil nods again, and watches him as Clint moves around the room, putting things away and switching off lights. It’s a bit early, and neither of them have brushed their teeth, but a lot of things lose importance in the face of Phil’s wellbeing.
“Anything else you need before I join you?” Clint asks as he stores the box back under the bed.
“Um. Maybe.”
Clint pauses at the foot of the bed, eyebrow raised. “So, yes. What is it?”
Phil hesitates. “Cuffs?” he asks. “But not for a reason you’ll like.”
“Tell me the reason and I’ll let you know my feelings on it myself.”
Phil sighs. “The safeword was flashback related. I’m very likely to have a nightmare tonight. I want you to restrain me so I don’t hurt you in my sleep.”
Clint looks at him for a long moment. “Be honest with me, sweetheart. Was this flashback triggered at least in part by being restrained?”
“Yes.”
“No deal. If you have a nightmare and wake up restrained, you’ll be even more upset.”
“I’ll hurt you.”
“You’ll hurt you more. Baby, please, let me look after you properly. I’ll move if your arms start flailing, promise.”
Phil gives a ghost of a smile. “Okay,” he relents. “Then all I need is you.”
Clint switches off the last lamp and climbs into bed, reaching out for Phil in the darkness. “All yours,” he says as Phil curls close. “Make yourself at home.”
“I’m gonna cling like a koala,” Phil warns.
“I make a good eucalyptus tree.”
Phil almost laughs, shifting even closer. Clint wraps him up tight in his arms and stays still and quiet, giving Phil room to fill the silence or let it surround them, whatever he needs. For as long as it takes for Phil to feel completely okay again, everything Clint does is all about giving Phil what he needs.
At some point, lost to the darkness of the night, Phil whispers the story of the flashback, curled around Clint tight enough that he seems to be using Clint as a shield against the memories. Clint holds him and presses kisses to his hair and swears silently to protect Phil from everything in his power to defend him from.