Chapter Text
Six weeks later, with the perp locked up in the state penitentiary awaiting trial, Clint was trying not to fidget as he waited for his name to be called for his official commendation from the city of New York.
He pulled down his sleeves when he noticed there were the faintest marks on his wrists from the ropes Phil had put him in the night before. They were still experimenting with bondage, but ever-patient Phil was determined to start small - Clint’s wrists tied together during dinner like the night before, for instance. Clint was more than ready to graduate on to something a little more x-rated, but he was willing to admit that going slow was actually kind of amazing with the right dom.
His name was called, and thankfully, he just had to go up and shake the Mayor’s hand rather than make a speech or anything too fuck-uppable. As he stood, one hand on his medal, the other in the Mayor’s firm handshake as they posed for photos, he caught sight of Phil in the crowd, standing up and applauding along with the rest of the crew from the precinct. He smiled even wider at that, feeling a deep and overwhelming sense of pride and gratitude.
Afterwards at the burger place Phil still favoured (despite Clint’s growing success in getting him to eat healthily), the whole squad embarrassingly sang ‘For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow’ before Fury stood to make a brief speech.
“Barton, you’ve more than proved your worth amongst the finest of New York’s finest-” Hill nodded beside him - pride in the Precinct was a big deal at the 18th. “And you went above and beyond, not just in this case but in all of the cases you work. Not only that, but you’ve actually achieved the impossible - you got Coulson here to chill the fuck out for the first time in possibly his entire adult life, for which we all thank you.” Phil ducked his head, but looked pleased despite himself, and Clint reached under the table to grab his hand and squeeze.
“To Clint Barton.” Fury raised his glass and so did the rest of the team in agreement.
Clint made like he was going to stand and make a speech, before waving a hand and laughing. “I’m not making a speech - eat your food!”
Everyone laughed and soon enough everyone was chattering amongst themselves and eating their greasy food. Clint watched Phil eat and thought about what they could have for dinner to counteract it, but Phil caught him looking and smiled. “Rabbit food tonight, ok?”
Clint nudged him and grinned. “It’s like you know me.”
He started pushing up his sleeves a little just to keep them out of the way of all the oil everywhere, when Phil caught his arm and winced. “Clint-”
Clint immediately pushed them back down again and winced. “Sorry - I forgot.” At Phil’s look of concern, he shook his head and then leaned in to whisper, “I like it.”
Phil looked very intense for a second, the look that meant he was calculating some new piece of information that would either break a case or drive Clint wild in the bedroom. Clint bit his lip and fought against the urge to slide to his knees under the table right there.
“Get a room already,” called Skye across the table, grinning when Phil tossed a fry her way.