Chapter Text
“When was the last time you got fucked, Barton?”
Clint feels absolutely no remorse in spitting an entire mouthful of coffee all over the SHIELD director’s desk. He does get a little extra satisfaction out of seeing a drop of liquid slowly sliding down Fury’s lapel.
“Okay...what the fuck kind of question is that?” Clint retorts. “Sir.”
“It’s a fair question. You’re one of my top agents, Barton, and even I can see that you’re strung tighter than your bow,” Fury counters. “You need to find a way to relax and relieve some of that fucking tension you’re carrying around.”
“And you think letting someone touch my dick is going to help with that?” Clint fires back.
“I don’t know, but I think it’s pretty telling that you’re insinuating it won’t help.”
Clint drops his head with a sigh and tries to remind himself that Nick is one of his oldest friends in addition to being his boss. This conversation has been a long time coming and he’s somewhat surprised it’s taken this long.
“It’s not just lack of sex, Nick,” Clint admits. “I’ll concede that it’s not helping matters that I can’t remember the last time anyone got near my dick or my ass, but it’s really not the worst thing.”
“I know that,” Nick says gently. “I know you don’t like talking to psych -”
“I’m not telling those idiots anything, let alone anything that all the senior agents have access to,” Clint interrupts. “No offense, sir.”
“None taken,” Fury says amicably. “I sometimes toy with the idea of you teaching others how to get through those interviews without saying a damn thing - would improve interrogation resistance techniques - but I’m not sure I want that skill spreading around.”
Clint shrugs. “Not everything’s teachable.”
Nick nods in acknowledgement. “Back to our original topic. You need someone to help you with both and I think I can help.”
“You know I care about you, Nick,” Clint says seriously, fighting a smirk, “but I don’t think our professional relationship would survive if we fucked each others’ brains out.”
Clint has to pat himself on the back for startling a laugh out of Fury. As far as Clint knows, he’s one of a handful of people that Nick is comfortable enough with to let himself laugh out loud.
“You’re a fucking loon, Barton,” Nick eventually says.
“I try.”
“What I was trying to say was that I know someone who may be able to help,” Nick clarifies.
Clint looks at his boss skeptically. “You know someone who can fix my fucked up head and fuck me while he’s at it?”
“I do,” Fury confirms with a nod. “Phil’s an old friend. He specializes in long-term contracts and takes the time to understand what his clients really need. Phil is discreet and in high demand, but I’ve talked to him and he’s agreed to take you on as a client. Clint,” he continues and leans forward in his chair, “I trust him. I’m trusting him with you. You can’t argue that my concerns aren’t valid.”
Clint drops his head, signaling his acquiescence, but can’t help asking, “Is this an order, sir?”
“I’d prefer you see this as a suggestion from a concerned friend, but I can make it an order if I need to,” Nick responds.
Clint sighs and lifts his head all the way back to look at the ceiling. “When do I meet the guy?”
~~~~~
“You must be Clint, I’m Phil.”
Clint shakes Phil’s hand and walks into the apartment. Clint has to admit that Nick probably knows him better than he suspected. While Clint hasn’t been with too many men, Phil is already hitting most of his kinks - slightly older, great eyes, firm handshake, and an air of quiet confidence.
“It’s nice to meet you, Phil,” Clint responds and lets some of how much he means it to leak into his voice. The corner of Phil’s half-smile lifts a fraction and Clint has a feeling that it counts as a big reaction from the other man.
“Shall we have a seat?” Phil asks, motioning towards two chairs flanking a small table by the fireplace. “Can I offer you a drink? I have Caol Ila, if you’re interested.”
“Sounds perfect. One cube only please,” Clint requests as he settles into the chair facing the door. Phil places the glass in front of Clint and he takes a sip, eyes closing briefly in appreciation of the smooth single-malt Scotch. “25 year old, very nice.”
Phil nods in acknowledgement and Clint lounges back in the chair. He doesn’t flinch or look away as the other man’s eyes roam over him appreciatively. “Shall I go over my terms and see if we can come to an agreement?” Phil asks.
“Please.”
“The fee for my minimum five sessions has already been paid up front by your employer,” Phil starts and Clint can’t keep his eyebrows from going up in surprise - Fury wasn’t kidding when he said he’d make it an order if he had to. “We can arrange for any additional sessions now or wait until we’re through with the first five. Sessions can be scheduled for as short as two hours or up to twenty-four. Most of my clients prefer the overnight hours, but I’m willing to make arrangements based on your schedule and mine. Days between sessions are up to you as well, with the condition that the first five occur within a two month period. Time frame for any additional sessions can be discussed and agreed upon at the time they are purchased. This apartment has been rented specifically for the two of us, and only the two of us, to use for our sessions. No sessions will take place outside the confines of this apartment. All sexual acts are on the table with two exceptions - no third parties for security reasons and no BDSM.”
Clint nods at the first and raises his eyebrow at the second.
“While I have practiced and find the acts enjoyable, I do not have enough expertise to guarantee it wouldn’t put either of us at risk,” Phil explains and Clint nods his agreement. It’s not a deal breaker for him. “Sex will always be openly offered, but there is no expectation for you to do anything other than what you desire. Communicating with me, however, is a requirement.”
“Fair enough,” Clint says. “What’s your rate for additional sessions?”
“Ten thousand per session,” Phil replies evenly and Clint only nods again, earning him another slight uptick of the edge of Phil’s smile.
“What else do you need from me?” Clint asks since they’d already traded clean medical records prior to this meeting.
“I need you to tell me why you’re here or at least why your boss seems to think you need to be here,” Phil requests. “It will help me determine if I can be of help or if I should refer your elsewhere.”
“Fair enough,” Clint repeats and looks at the amber liquid in his glass for a moment before meeting Phil’s eyes. “Everyone I’ve ever trusted in my life has tried to kill me or in some other way destroy me. As a result, I find myself unable to trust anyone’s motivations. It’s gotten to the point where I’m incapable of any interpersonal interactions outside of work and, as evidenced by my being here at all, it’s also beginning to impact my working relationships. The idea of intimacy of any kind is laughable and my paranoia is increasing to the point where I rarely get more than a few hours of sleep at night. I’m tired and, fuck it all, I’m lonely. So if you can help me with all or any of those, I say show me where to sign.”
Phil blinks at him a few times and it’s clear that Clint has managed to surprise the high-priced prostitute cum therapist.
“Not what you were expecting me to say?” Clint asks.
“No,” Phil responds honestly. “Most clients lie or evade and require me to read between the lines.”
“Well...desperate measures,” Clint says, raising his glass in a toast before finishing it off. “Think you can help me?”
“Most definitely,” Phil answers with confidence.
“Good. I’d like to extend the contract an additional five sessions with all ten to be completed within the next 3 months, assuming it fits within your schedule.” Clint delivers his request in the same business-like tone that Phil had used to outline his terms, drawing a more genuine smile out of the older man.
“I can work with that,” Phil says and then leans over to grab a tablet from the bag next to his chair. He taps at the screen for a few minutes before handing it to Clint. “You will find the terms exactly as we’ve discussed them with one alteration - full payment will not be garnered until the completion of all ten of your requested sessions. If you find any fault with our interactions at the end of our contract, you are free to lessen or refuse payment.”
Both of Clint’s eyebrows raise at the change, but Phil only smiles serenely. “You have issues with trust, Clint. I need you to believe that my only goal here is to please you, to help you. I now have a vested interest in doing exactly that and not abandoning you in the middle of the contract.”
Clint finds himself smiling in a way that feels sadly foreign and picks up the stylus, only to have Phil’s hand cover his own. “You’re not going to read it?” he asks.
“Do I need to?” Clint asks back. “Trust goes both ways, right?”
Phil looks pleasantly surprised as he pulls his hand back and nods. Clint signs the tablet and hands it back to Phil. The older man signs it himself, taps a few more keys, shuts the tablet down, and then stands with a hand out to Clint.
“This isn’t our first official session,” Phil explains, “but I’d like to offer you something tonight if you’ll allow it?”
Clint takes his hand, but shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m ready for anything like that yet,” Clint says as he stands.
“I’m offering you a good night’s sleep,” Phil says with a smile. “This building was designed by Roger Clark, who I’m sure you know provides only the best security possible. Nobody else can get in here but us and I’ll be here all night to watch over you.”
It’s Clint’s turn to blink at Phil in surprise. The familiar gun calluses Clint can feel on Phil’s hands are both attractive and comforting. Just his making the offer has every tired bone in Clint’s body suddenly aching for the comfort of a bed. He can only nod mutely in response and let Phil lead him into the bedroom. There is, of course, spare sets of sleep clothes and toiletries for Clint to use. He motions for Phil to precede him into the bed before he settles down himself. It takes a little silent maneuvering, but Clint eventually settles on his side, facing the door, with Phil warm at his back and strong arms curled protectively around him. He sleeps.