brandingproblem | open post

Phil's very assertive in his touching and kissing. It isn't bad. It isn't strange. And Clint can give as good as he gets, to be sure. It's just a strange and intense kind of day, and he'll make up for any lack later. There's a light touch of hands, holding, and leans into the kiss, and then that's that.

It's him and a walk home in the bright city night.

And it gives him a lot of time to think about it. Even when he's home and tucked into bed and laying there, thinking about it. About being more, which doesn't even really entail them being more, just being able to be what they are wherever and whenever they want. The way Phil said those words and how it felt. Knowing that really, Phil didn't have to say it at all, that it was something just inherently understood, but that it still felt good to hear it. And also terrifying.

Is this how love feels? He doesn't really have many good models to base the feeling off of. When he and Nat had tried something, ages ago now, they had quickly decided that what they felt wasn't that kind of love, and they were much better off as friends, best friends, platonic life partners as some have even called them. He knows love from family, from his mother and now from a rather forced together type of family. But love love? Like from the songs? That's what this is, right? Should he say it? Maybe he should say it. Say it out in the open in front of everyone and dip his partner low for a kiss of a lifetime and uuuuuuugh no, no, that is not going to happen.

It's going to be dinner. Fancy dinner in fancy dress. They will smile and laugh and touch. They'll hold hands and they'll kiss. And people will know.

That's a big declaration in itself. Transitioning into something they do all the time is going to probably take practice after so long clearly keeping the lines of work and play separated. So...try not to worry about it?

Which means of course he's going to worry about it and when did it get to be morning already??

It's going to be a long week to picking up those suits.

Phil, in contrast, doesn't worry about it. He falls asleep with easy though his hand does drift over to what he considers Clint's side of the bed. He sleeps well, comfortable and confident with his decision. It doesn't scare him because of the certainty he has in his heart that things will be okay in the end.

And he does notice that it's having a bigger effect on Clint. Phil doesn't change their usual routines. He doesn't change the lines they've drawn, not even a little bit. He won't until Clint's settled with the idea that they can. It may take awhile but that's fine. He's as patient as the sniper when he needs to be.

It isn't until they're walking back towards the tailors to get the suits after Clint's had his last fittings that he reaches over and takes Clint's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. His touch is loose so Clint can pull away if he's comfortable but it's different. It's new. He's making it clear.

"No one would believe me if I told them you're prone to overthinking," he teases in a dry tone.

Phil hasn't forced anything, hasn't tried anything out of the ordinary, has not, as far as he can tell, said anything to anyone. So. Slow and steady. Which is not Clint's usual style, but in this case, he's making an exception for sure. Would he be able to adapt to sudden and rapid change? Oh, for sure, without a doubt. But Phil is good, too good, at reading him. Knows that he needs a little bit of time to sit on this.

It's good luck, he thinks, that's allowed them to stay stateside and local instead of a surprise three week stint in Azerbaijan again or something like that. And it's trust, faith, and love that lets Phil take his hand without flinching.

He looks down briefly at their hands, then deliberately away. He is not prone to blushing that he's aware of, and something as small of this obviously shouldn't do anything to him. And yet. It feels big. It's small and will go unnoticed but most. And yet it's enormous for them. He grips back, firm.

"I'm not all impulse. Sometimes I even think before I do. Not usually before I speak, though."

"I don't always mind your impulses." They had some interesting adventures because of some impulsive decision by Clint. A new restaurant. An interesting looking store. A new coffee place. Try this sriracha raspberry jam. Sometimes, the impulsiveness has led to really good things. And it helps Phil break from his routines. He can be too set in his ways sometimes.

He appreciates Clint taking the time to be comfortable with this, however. Phil makes his grip more firm in response to Clint. This is really all he expected of the change, touching in public and maybe even a little kiss here and there.

"Everyone's aware of how you run your mouth. It's not subtle." He doesn't expect it to change.

"It's a highly effective distraction technique," Clint says with a boyish grin. "Talk bullshit at them and they'll never see your next move coming."

This feels good. A little bit of those giddy, flighty nerves, but predominantly good to just casually hold his boyfriend's hand. "Feeling bold today?"

"I might." Phil is going to leave it at that and let Clint wonder what he might do. They're mostly going to spend time at the tailors where there will be plenty of opportunities to be bold with Clint.

"Leah will certainly be bold with you." He holds the door open for Clint when they reach the tailor. No one else is inside except Leah. "I brought him back for your tender mercies."

"Oh, Phillip, good. Once the finishing touches are on the suits, he'll be stunning." She had them in suit bags hung up on a rolling rack. She hands Clint the first bag. "Put this on."

"You really do work fast," Clint marvels as he takes the bag. "Now I kinda wish I'd done my hair all nice." Leah ushers him toward a changing room. "No peeking."

The first one is, apparently, the more subdued one with a much less bold purple. When the light catches it just right, the regal shimmer becomes more clear, but it's otherwise dark enough to pass as next best thing to black, with a matching tie. Offset just enough by an actually black shirt, and framed by the lighter grey. The color is just a fun accessory, and the suit itself is the real star for its fit.

When he steps out in the getup, Leah is already on him, adjusting the tie, tugging and straightening hems.

"I know--" He's tempted to bat her away, but she in theory knows what she's doing, so he keeps his hands to himself. "I know how to put on a suit." Phillip. Help. "Do I look okay or like I'm going to go to a snazzy funeral?"

Leah tuts. "Don't offend someone well-versed in a small pair of fabric sheers."

Phil sat down in a chair to wait, trying not to so how eager he was to see the first suit.

Clint always looked good in tactical black. Now he was in a suit almost perfectly cut for his body and in his best color. Phil curled his fingers around his knee when he stepped out.

This was going to be torture at dinner. Though he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself anymore. They can be public with their affection now. Knowing himself though Phil will still hold back because it will make the eventual giving in better.

"You'd need to be much more subdued personality wise for a funeral," Phil says, his eyes roaming slowly over Clint's form while Leah carefully makes the final adjustments.

Oh, Phil's looking. Looking very hard. "I can be subdued. I've been to funerals."

"In what? A rental?"

Clint...coughs a little and says nothing.

"A travesty." Leah seems to finally be somewhere close to satisfied as she steps back, adjusting her glasses and humming to herself. "I hope you've got some nice shoes to go with."

"Don't worry about my shoes, no one should be looking down there."

"It's an ensemble. Tell me how it feels?"

That's at least a much more practical question. Clint rolls his shoulders, stretches his arms up, twists around. Unbuttons the jacket and does the same thing, gives a few little jabs at the air. He does not anticipate a fight. But just in case... "Feels good. Like I can really move around in it."

"Why is he punching?" Leah looks towards Phil. "Do you plan to take him to a bar brawl in a suit?"

It is possible that could happen even at a nice dinner. Trouble has a way of finding Clint no matter where he goes. He smiles as he looks at Clint. "It's a good way to check mobility and the fabric. He approves, Leah, that's all that matters."

So did Phil but the choice is still Clint's in the end when it comes to wearing them. If this is how he wants to test them Phil's not going to stop him. He shifts a little in his seat.

"It looks good," he says with a small nod. "Excellent work as always."

"Yeah? If it's got the Phillip seal of approval, then it's okay by me."

"I hope it's more than just okay."

Clint rolls his eyes. "It's wonderful, it's delightful, it's a miracle."

Leah gives him a pinch and then shoves the other bag at him. "Go try on your other miracle, kid."

"Ohhhh, did you hear that?" over his shoulder. "I've been downgraded."

"Act like a child..."

Clint sticks his tongue out at her and disappears back into the changing room.

The next suit is of one of the darker greys Phil had been initially looking at. All the better to let the much bolder purple stand out. He's still worried his little joke had gone a little far, that it's going to be much, but he doesn't dislike it when he throws it all together.

"Now for this one," he hears Leah outside, "I'm thinking some accessories. Amethyst type cufflinks, perhaps, or collar pins are really starting to come into vogue for the shirt, or even--do you have any piercings?"

"Uh. Not anymore?"

"Oh, I like that answer. Speaks of some wild younger years; I know how that is. Well, there could have been some fine matching earrings, but a ring or two might do the trick. And never doubt the power of a fine tie bar to bring a piece together."

Clint steps out, tugging at the sleeves. "I'll keep that in mind. Probably going to be light on accessories, but I'll see what I can do."

She sets her hands to fussing. "And naturally, mix and match as you please. You can absolutely work this vest with the lighter suit without it getting too loud or drowned out, so on, so forth."

The second suit is somehow better than the first. Perhaps because he's used to seeing Clint in black but this is entirely different, entirely new. The bold colors and the cut of the suit itself are incredible on him. Phil only just stops himself from dragging his lower lip through his teeth and looking at him with outright hunger.

"I have cufflinks and tie bars at home. None are purple but I'm sure I have something that will work." And it'll be another sign of how Clint is his. If it is edging into sugar daddy territory again, fine. Fine. Whatever. Phil will live with that. He likes seeing Clint like this and wearing his things.

"Of course you'll have something." Leah waves a hand at him. "But you should get the young man some of his own. He can't keep taking from you every time he wants to go out."

Clint absolutely could and Phil would not complain. He simply nods in agreement. "I'm sure you can suggest some things for him."

Clint's eyebrows raise slowly during the back and forth. Trying to keep his mouth shut. Has she figured it out yet? Because it's sounding like she's figured it out, if she is assuming that he borrows Phil's things. To go out.

Time to be a tease. "What do you think, Phillip? Do these pants make my ass look fat?"

"Your ass looks amazing so long as you get properly tailored trousers. I wish my husband had ever had a backside half as nice as yours."

Okay, so he's got a match in the little old woman, noted. "It's never too late to start getting into an exercise regimen to give him the firmest glutes to bounce quarters off of."

"And give myself more work having to alter all of his pants?"

"But think of the satisfying sound of giving it a firm smack."

She smooths down the vest and rebuttons the jacket closed. "Are you the devil on my shoulder, young man? Don't tempt me to smack yours instead."

"Well, you've already pinched it; might as well take another little step. Unless your partner in crime here wants to give it a go instead."

It's possible she figured it out the first time they were in here. She's very observant and they hadn't been perfectly careful. Phil hadn't been perfectly careful. It's very difficult to be careful now when Clint's deliberately taunting him.

"I'm sorry, Clint, I didn't bring any quarters to give a demonstration," he says with a slight smirk. "I'll make sure to do better next time if you want to show off your talents."

He looks at Leah with the same expression. "I promise his exercise routine does wonders for his ass so it would work on anyone else's. If you need me to step in and make sure he behaves let me know."

"Keep it out of my shop, you two. I run a respectable business."

"Do you see how downright dapper I am? Is there anything not respectable about me?" He does a little spin.

She points to her eyes and points at him.

"You've performed a miracle and made a respectable young man out of this rapscallion." He shrugs out of the jacket. It might be deliberate. To show off how he looks in a vest properly. "Well, if nobody's going to smack my ass, I guess I'll just go back to commoner clothes while you two take care of whatever business is left." He does a dramatic turn back to the dressing room, jacket thrown over his shoulder.

Leah gives Phil a look. "Black tie event, hm?"

"Don't look so skeptical. They do happen."

They're friends with Tony Stark. A black tie event will happen in their future and they will arrive to it together, arm in arm looking incredibly well dressed. It will absolutely floor Stark.

He follows Leah to the counter to pay for both suits, not the least bit bothered by the price tag. It is entirely worth it. When they do go out for their dinner Phil will really enjoy himself.

He hopes Clint does as well and has the confidence of a good suit and his good looks. Phil's already picked out the steakhouse which will be smaller and more intimate than perhaps what Clint is expecting.

Phil waits for Clint to finish changing back into his usual clothes with both suit bags draped over his arm.

Rest assured that Clint can't wait to confuse and arouse every tabloid the first time he shows up to a Stark event all decked out.

When he comes back out, all normal and not swank, he leans over to give Leah a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for putting up with me."

"You just have to make sure you come back anytime you need something nice to wear. And send me pictures if you end up on any red carpets."

He doesn't know about that, but some of Stark's events do get big names, so...not exactly out of the picture. "And thank you, Phillip."

Nope, not going to get tired of that while they're here.

"You're welcome, Clinton."

Phil takes Clint's hand as he leads him out of the shop, Leah laughing warmly behind them. He's quite pleased with the way this fitting had gone.

"You seem happy with the suits," he says as they walk together. "Do you like them?"

It's a complete reversal of the past few days. Now Phil's a little unsure and perhaps overthinking. Clint had fun with the fitting which Phil took as a sign that he likes the suits but it'd be nice to hear it as well.

"I'm definitely happy you took me to her. I don't think she ever realized who I was. She's great." Phil was asking about the suits, but Clint would be remiss not to talk about the experience as a whole. "I really might have to swoop by and get an actual tuxedo and really knock your socks off in something traditional as hell."

He's glad now to hold his partner's hand. There are still nerves in there, somewhere, buzzing about, but there's a giddiness, too, that can't be denied. "And I like the suits. It's different, but hey, now I've got options. Even on missions. Don't expect me to wear them a lot; you're not gonna turn me into you. Just on special occasions. Or when you tell me to, sir."

"I don't know if I'm ready to see you in a not rented tuxedo." It might actually break Phil entirely. He may do something stupid and reckless like declare his undying love and ask Clint to marry him.

He looks good in a rented tux. He would be devastating in a tailored one. Especially now that Leah knew what Clint liked. Oh, he had made his own downfall.

"Don't worry, I don't think we'll be going out to too many steakhouses." Phil gently nudges his shoulder against Clint's. "I prefer our usual haunts but I feel we should indulge now and then."

"I'm thinking a fancy one, with coattails, and white gloves." He's not, actually, but there's room to tease.

"You don't indulge enough." ...Hm, hold on, let him rephrase that. "You don't indulge in anything that isn't me or your suits enough." They might potentially maybe go on vacation together someday. Now that would truly be an indulgence. "That said, how did you like me in suits?"

If anyone could pull off coattails and gloves it would be Clint. Phil could find him attractive in just about anything he wore. It's a curse of being in love with the man.

Phil leans in close so that Clint won't miss a single word of what he says next nor the way he practically growls it. "I cannot be held responsible for my actions when we're alone and you're in that vest, agent."

The trim line of Clint's waist will pleasantly haunt Phil's memories for years and years to come. If he wore that and rolled up his sleeves? Phil would have to drag him to the nearest closet and ruin him.

He drew back and settled comfortably back into his unflappable agent role.

That shoots straight to his dick. And Clint grins slyly even as Phil tries to settle back to normal business as usual.

"We're gonna have fun with this. You've given me so much power. And I can't promise to use it wisely." His turn to bump shoulders. "Maybe you're the one who's gonna have to pay for dry cleaning, too. If you treat my clothes rough."

"I'm aware of what I've done to myself." Phil very subtly licks his lips. It's rare that the power dynamic between them shifts so firmly in Clint's favor but well...

Phil's done this to himself.

"We have reservations for Friday night." So that's when Clint can absolutely test all of Phil's control.

Clint laughs to himself. "Down, boy." It's so small. It's so subtle. Literally only he can tell any of this is happening, and he's going to milk it for all it's worth.

"Friday night. We're gonna roll up on the scene like two very handsome men in a very handsome car, and you're not going to do the chivalry thing and open doors and pull out my chair or anything." Just to warn him now. In case Phil gets any ideas. "Are you gonna help me get dressed? Pick out which combination of everything I'm gonna wear, pretty me up with some accessories?"

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