Coulson tarried a little longer than he had planned in the kitchen. Despite his best intentions he couldn't leave the dirty plates cluttering up the sink so without thinking he quickly washed them up and set them to dry on the side board. It meant that instead of following Clint into the lounge he arrived about ten minutes later than he intended. And that delay had given Clint enough time to go from fairly relaxed about what had been proposed to being frantically on edge again. Coulson couldn't help the sad smile that tugged at his lips as he strode into the small lounge to find Clint pacing like a caged animal. His head was bowed and his hands were clenching and unclenching into tight fists. Coulson could almost hear the wheels going around the younger man's brains as he once again over through the entire situation. Instantly Coulson knew what was wrong and he knew how to counteract the panic he could see filling Clint's systems.

Without even breaking stride he intercepted Clint's pacing. Not given Clint the chance to react, he reached out and, as he curled his fingers around Clint's exposed wrist, he soothed, "Wanting a soft scene doesn't make you less of a man. It simply means you're starting to listen to what your body needs rather than trying to be something you're not."

Clint glared at him and for a moment Coulson could see the anger and insubordination that filled the archer's personal file. But then just as quick it faded leaving a very tired looking young man. For several moments they simply faced each other, Clint's eyes dancing around flittering around the room before landing on Coulson, only to skit away again, while Coulson kept his face neutral. Every ounce of his willpower going into keeping the calm, reassuring façade he knew Clint needed right there and then.

It took several minutes for Clint to finally look him square in the eye and when he did he looked so lost it nearly broke Coulson's heart.

"I don't know what to do," confessed Clint so softly it was almost as if he hadn't spoken.

Acting on instinct alone Coulson ran his hand up Clint's bare arm and allowed his fingers to curl around the back of Clint's neck. It was one of their favourite holds. It was one they often used even out in the field, one that allowed them both to know the other was still alive and safe without giving too much away. Stepping closer Coulson gently eased Clint forward until the archer was pressed against him, his forehead resting on Coulson's shoulder. Tilting his head so his cheek brushed against Clint's short hair, he soothed, "You don't need to do anything; you just need to trust me. More than you have ever trusted me before," he added softly when he felt Clint move as if to protest.

"What we're about to do will take more trust and understanding than anything we've ever done out in the field." He took a deep breath then gently easing Clint's face up so he could look into the normally all seeing eyes he smiled faintly and asked gently, "Can you do that, darling? Can you trust me that much?"

"I already do," confessed Clint in a heartbreakingly honest whisper.

A faint blush seemed to works its way up Clint's cheeks as he realised what he had confessed. He went to pull away but Coulson didn't let him. Instead he cupped the side of Clint's face with one hand and offering the warmest smile possible, he murmured, "Then we can do this. That's all I needed to hear."

Clint bit his lower lip a moment, then with a huff of bitter sweet laughter, he asked, "So how the hell does this work?"

Coulson simply cocked his head and waited.

"I know how to act in a hard scene," snapped Clint when Coulson didn't reply, "I know how to get into the right head space for those sessions, it's easy. But this? What you're suggesting, a complete scene that's that soft? How the hell do I that? I mean what am I going to be pushing against, I…"

"Barton!" exclaimed Coulson, his voice slipping into mission mode, "Stop talking."

Clint's mouth snapped shut before his brain had even caught up with what Coulson had just said him. Pouting at his handler, he never the less obeyed, staying quiet long enough for Coulson to clarify, "This scene will be just like any other we've ever done. Ok, it won't be extreme, and yes there are less tangible restraints and barriers for you to fight against but the base line is the same - you do what I say, when I say or there will be consequences. Admittedly they won't be as hard or as punishing as before but nevertheless they will still there."

He paused letting his words sink in before he straightened up and, with just a hint of dominance in his voice, he stated firmly, "The whole point of this scene is for you to let go and for you to do that, you have to submit to me 100 percent or there is no point in us going any further."

Client stared at him then gave a slight nodded, indicating he was still listening and still thinking about what Coulson was saying.

"Your safe word remains," continued Coulson, feeling as he was briefing his specialist ready for a mission. In some ways it helped to think of it as a mission. Because if he didn't, if he thought about what it meant to be given so much trust by a man who had been taught never to trust, it was slightly overwhelming even for him. "Just because this isn't hard doesn't mean we do this without precautions. Sometimes the gentler the scene, the more intense it can be and the greater the need for safe words. Do you remember the colour code?" he asked firmly despite the softening of the lines around his eyes.

"Green means carry on, amber means I need a moment and red means stop," confirmed Clint, his voice reverberating with the self-assuredness he normally saved for mission reports.

"Good boy," praised Coulson, smiling faintly. He waited a moment but when Clint didn't carry on he sighed and prompted, "And your safe word is?"

"Oh come on," exclaimed Clint, smirking slightly, "You know what it is."

"I need to hear you say," ordered Coulson, totally unmoved by the playful glare Clint was throwing him "I need you to confirm it for me."

Clint looked on the verge of rebellion but a well place huff from Coulson and he relented, sighing dramatically, "Natasha."

"Well done," praised Coulson leaning in to claim a soft kiss from Clint's pouting lips.

"You ever tell her that I use her name as my safe word and I will…" began Clint but Coulson interrupted him stating firmly, "I would never betray you like that."

He ran a finger along the line of Clint's jaw and, with a force that left Clint breathless, he promised, "I would rather die than betray your trust."

Clint swore under his breath then, before Coulson could react, he was kissing him. It wasn't like the other kisses they had shared so far that night. This had nothing to do with reassurance and everything to do with pure, blind passion and desire.

Breaking the kiss with a sigh, Clint gasped, "How do you want to do this?"

"Slowly and carefully," replied Coulson, pressing nipping kisses along Clint's jawline and neck, "There is no rush, no need to force the pace. We'll take thing slowly and let the scene unfold by itself. Agreed?"

Clint licked his lips then nodded before asking, "Do I get to ask for things in this scene?"

"That depends on what you're asking for," replied Coulson with a knowing chuckle.

"Kiss me again?" asked Clint in a voice so far from his normal cocky brash self it was almost unnerving. Well unnerving for anyone who didn't know him as well as Coulson did. Without hesitating, Coulson leant back in and whispered, "Willingly," before claiming Clint's mouth for gentle but knowing kiss.

Clint groaned into the kiss, the noise making Colson shudder in response. Breaking apart for air, Coulson ran his hand over Clint's hair. He took a good long hard look at the younger man before nodding slightly to himself, satisfied that the dark shadows under Clint's eyes were staring to face and that Clint's eyes were finally starting to sparkle again. Humming softly to himself, he took a step back, smiling with delight when Clint automatically took a step forward to follow him. Chuckling at the expression on the normally very independent specialist's face, he reached down and taking Clint's hand, he guided him over to the couch, ordering gently, "Come on we're going to watch some TV then it's an early night for both of us."

Clint didn't object, if anything he as more pliable and accommodating than Coulson had ever known him. It took them a few moments to get settled but finally, as Clint lay sprawled on the couch, his head resting on Coulson's chest, Coulson found himself stroking Clint's bare arm with the softest of smiles playing over his lips as he realised Clint was actually falling asleep. Brushing a soft kiss against the short hair, Coulson settled back to watch the latest episode of Supernanny. As he let the programme wash over him, he started to relax and, for the first time since Clint had stepped off the plane the previous night, he finally began to hope that if he could steer Clint through the next few days without further mishap, then maybe, just maybe, everything really would be okay.

TBC