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“I said kneel, boy.”
Clint scoffed. He really hated these new agents, the ones with the black armband that meant they were Dominants and thought it gave them a power above their security clearance. It was rare that it happened but S.H.I.E.L.D. was a bureaucracy at its core so the occasional entitled bully slipped through. He leaned against the wall in a relaxed slouch, staring down at the smaller man. It was pretty obvious the man had only seen Clint's collar and either didn't notice or, more likely, didn't care about the tag that dangled from the soft black leather.
“I don't have any reason to listen to you,” Clint retorted. “Sir.” The title fell from his lips with a smirk. The agent stepped towards him, eyes alight.
“Someone clearly needs to remind you of your place,” the agent hissed, pressing down on Clint's shoulder. Clint bit back a laugh at the fact that the agent had to reach up and played along gamely, dropping to his knees gracefully. The tile of the hallway was hard on his joints but he didn't think he'd be in this position for long. His Dom had a sixth sense (or a way with the security cameras) when Clint found himself in trouble.
The agent smiled as Clint dropped his eyes.
“Yes sir, of course sir. I think you'd be the best Dom to teach me.” Clint parroted in response, grinning through the pain of his head jerking back sharply. He scanned the man's face, committing it to memory and taking note of the badge number clipped to his belt.
“You think this is funny?” The agent's hand tightened in his hair.
Clint thought about holding his tongue but he figured someone had to teach these new agents their place in the S.H.I.E.L.D. pecking order. It was just this poor idiot's luck that he'd decided to have a power trip with this particular Submissive. “Absolutely, sir.” Clint answered honestly, feeling the grin widen across his face. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”
Clint's teeth clicked as the Dominant shook his head roughly. “I don't care who you are, sub. You're nothing beneath me.”
“Let me correct you, Agent.” Clint closed his eyes in relief at the silky smooth tones of his Dom. He hated having his hair pulled, it was always uncomfortable and his neck ached at the angle it was being held at. Clint concentrated on listening to the almost silent footsteps as the other man neared. “He is everything and so far above you I'm surprised you dare touch him. Clearly we need to tighten our recruiting parameters.”
The agent laughed harshly. “And who the fuck are you? Some HR paper-pusher sent down because it looks like I'm taking it too far?” Clint watched as the man waved his fingers mockingly at the security camera in the ceiling. The hand yanked on the short strands of hair again and Clint didn't hide the wince.
“I'm going to tell you this once,” Oh, the older man was clearly upset and Clint smirked. “If you don't obey, then I will Tase you and let your body be used as a dummy for the Consultant's latest project. Let go of him now and leave us.”
“Or he could be target practice.” Clint offered with a grin. His Dom gave him a fleeting smile. The hand left Clint's hair and the menacing presence of the agent next to him lessened as he stepped back. Clint rose to his knees and took three steps so his Dom was between him and the agent. He made a face at the agent because a large part of him had hoped the man would be stupid enough to not listen.
Cool fingers wrapped around his wrist, squeezing once in warning. Clint smoothed his features into blankness and lowered his eyes automatically.
“Clearly you just need a firm hand.” The agent chuckled heavily as Clint followed in step with his Dom. “If that bureaucrat doesn't deliver, you come and find me, sweetheart.” The slim fingers tightened in response to the casual insult and Clint tensed. If his Dom gave the word, he would be more than happy to show the agent why they were the wrong Claim to test. It had been a while since Clint had met someone so stupid, though. Most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents knew enough about his Dom's reputation they didn't want to cross him on anything.
“He's not worth your time,” Coulson's hand slipped from Clint's wrist to rest on the back of his neck. The Submissive slowly relaxed as they walked down the hallway. He was aware of the agent shadowing their movements though. Clint fingered the nearly invisible outline of the knife hidden in his shirt seam.
“Are you incapable of listening?” Coulson stopped moving and turned to face the agent. Clint halted and spun around to watch.
“No, I just happen to be going this way myself.”
“I highly doubt that.” The response was dry. “I've given you one warning, would you like a demonstration to prove its merit?” The agent was opening his mouth to answer when the two tips of Coulson's Taser hit his chest.