Chapter Text
Fury is absolutely living up to his name as he enters Phil's office on Tuesday afternoon. He locks the door behind him, sits down, and slams a piece of paper on the desk. "It's a fucking outrage,” he says.
Phil raises an eyebrow. "What's Barton done this time?" he asks.
"Not him, for once. This is a lot bigger than the Avengers, Phil."
He hands over the piece of paper - it’s from the World Security Council, which automatically means bad news. Phil reads it in silence.
When he puts it down, his hands are shaking. "Is this legal?" he asks.
"You know better than to ask that question. It’s enforceable, that’s all that matters."
"Surely this violates submissives rights, though?"
"They're saying that it's for the benefit of submissives."
Phil snorts. "Fuck that. Firing submissive handlers who are uncollared is for our benefit?"
"Apparently you can't be trusted to always be level and focused." Phil opens his mouth to argue and Fury raises a weary hand. "Phil. I know it's bullshit. That's why SHIELD has always had an open hiring policy - we've never discriminated against subs at any level. God knows you worked your way to where you are fair and square, and you’re the most focused agent I’ve got. But my hands are tied. If they're in charge of missions and other agents, and don't have a Dom, they're either demoted or fired."
Phil scrubs a hand across his face. "You say they. You mean me. Being the only submissive handler and all."
Fury just looks at him. "What are you going to do?"
"What can I do? I don't have a Dom - and thanks to the nice little amendment they've put in, it's not like I can just get one of the available ones in SHIELD to 'collar' me. It has to pass review and be deemed a real relationship or else I'll be fired anyway - how the fuck is this enforceable, Nick?"
"I don't know." Fury sighs and stands. "I'll do what I can, Phil, but in thirty days and against the Council, it’s not a lot. Anything you can come up with to keep yourself here, you’ll have my support."
Fury leaves Phil sitting there, staring at his desk. He doesn't know which emotions to feel first.
It's the twenty-first century, for gods sake. Phil Coulson does not want to be owned. He just wants to do his job.
But apparently now he can't do one without the other. Because all the years of hard work he's given, all the feats he's pulled off, the agents he's trained, the lives he's saved - none of it matters anymore because Phil doesn't have someone's collar around his neck.
Submissives have fought for their rights for years now. Phil began his time at SHIELD as a junior agent, back when submissive agents were rare and treated with healthy skepticism - understandably so, since back then many couldn’t stand up to the pressure of not only being a serious minority, but working against stereotypes, society’s beliefs, and cocky Doms who decided they didn’t belong. There are many more these days, society being a better, or at least improving, place, but there are few who have been around for longer than three or four years. Phil is the only one who’s been here for longer than ten.
Phil has never been prepared to let himself be bullied or stereotyped. He’s not just worked his way up the tier, he’s fought, tooth and nail, to prove himself. He’s been very lucky, his rise through SHIELD coinciding with the rise of the submissive rights movement, and opportunities opening for him just when he needed them to, leading him to his current position. And SHIELD is the best place to be an uncollared submissive anyway - as long as you can hold a weapon of some kind and either follow or give orders, nobody gives a shit about your status. In fact, Phil is pretty sure a few of his promotions along the way had been a big ol’ fuck you to some of the bigots trying to impose restrictions on SHIELD; if so, Phil isn’t complaining.
Phil has been damn lucky - but he’s also fought damn hard.
He might be the only submissive handler in SHIELD, but it doesn’t matter. It’s never mattered to his fellow handlers, and any agents who have tried to pull rank and refuse to take his orders have quickly learned what a bad idea that is. His rank, the psychometric-determined number that tells the world exactly how ‘subby’ he is, has been suppressed and classified, but that’s for Phil’s own protection. Some of the archaic laws favouring Dominants have not quite worked their way out of the legal system yet, and submissives ranked ninety and higher - the high range submissive category, in other words - can still be collared by the state for ‘their own protection’. As a Rank 95 submissive, Phil is quite eager to avoid that particular indignity.
Not that the one he’s facing now is much better.
And it’s so stupid that it’s happening now. Because now, as the Avengers Liaison, Phil is nothing short of a hero for submissives rights - he’s the one who gives orders to the six of the strongest and most well known Dominants in the world. None of them have ever batted an eyelid at his status - in fact, they fought for him when others argued. When, at a press conference about the officially formed Avengers Initiative, someone had spoken out about them having a submissive handler, Clint had quietly informed them that if Phil wasn’t allowed to work with them, then good luck surviving the next invasion because Clint sure wouldn’t be coming to their rescue.
(Apparently the rest of the team had been getting ready to speak up in his defense, but the complaints had been withdrawn so fast they hadn’t had a chance to open their mouths.)
Phil’s just as good as any Dominant agent, and better than a lot of them, and he’s never needed a Dom to ‘keep him in line’. Sure, he’s had his struggles - subdrop, distress, all the usual ‘weaknesses’ of a submissive - but Phil’s fought those himself. It might have made life easier to have a Dom, but Phil does not need one.
He’s known that he’s a submissive since the first set of mandatory psychometrics at age twelve; he’s known that he’s a high-ranking submissive since the second set at age sixteen - and he’s known both of those facts, deep down, for a lot longer. After all, the results of the tests are only really a surprise for those who are borderline, and even then it’s rarely shocking. Subs and Doms know who they are from a very young age - neutrals generally work it out once they get into close contact with both and realize they don’t feel like either - and, excluding the rare cases where parents coach their children to try and register them as Dominant instead of neutral or submissive (a very difficult feat, and always spotted), the first set of psychometrics are usually straightforward and simply involve the state registering numbers and determining how many are required for each specialized class the following year.
The second test is often the shocker - it had been for Phil. Even though he’d always known he was particularly submissive, seeing the ninety-five on the page had taken his breath away for a long moment - only four points off the highest submissive score possible. He’d had the option then to begin suppressing his rank and, after a long discussion with his mother, had chosen to do so. Not out of shame - after the shock wore off, Phil had been left with nothing but resignation and understanding - but because they all knew that Phil would never be satisfied as a stay-at-home, or kept, submissive. Of course anybody who hired him would become privy to his rank, but he would be judged on his value as a person before that information was accessible. Submissives rights, still just a fledgling movement at that point, had at least begun making it clear that submissive rankings didn't impact on ones natural abilities and personality traits. Phil could be a stay-at-home submissive, bowing down to a Dom’s every wish with no job, name, or mind of his own (and passes no judgement at all on those who choose that route) but he doesn’t want it. And that’s what matters more - his force of will.
He’s done himself proud. His ability to project neutral - or at least borderline submissive - has earned him respect, responsibility, and independence. And never, in all of the years that Phil has fought for himself, has he ever told himself that having a Dom is a necessity.
That said, there’s a difference between needing a Dom and wanting one. Phil wants a Dom in the same way that all submissives do. It’s been an occasional luxury over the years; weekend play sessions, a few casual relationships, and even a couple of collars in the early days when Phil was just another SHIELD agent. But none of that has ever defined his worth, and that’s exactly how it should be. Phil doesn't want a Dom for the sake of having a collar, or to validate his worth as a person. He wants to be able to stand strong on his own two feet, get by on his own accomplishments and sense of self worth. That's what this anger is about.
But wanting a Dom? Well, yeah, so there might be a Dom that Phil quite wants. A Dom that makes every single submissive part of Phil sing - but more importantly, a person who makes Phil feel wanted and important. He's not against having a Dom. At least not that one.
But it isn't going to happen. Phil's known that from the start. So he's buried himself in work and stamped down his submissive side and not even entertained the thought of finding a Dom these past eight years. After all, if he couldn't have the Dom he wanted, what was the point in finding another?
And now he's screwed.
Phil would take just about any Dom he could get right now, just to get out of this mess. He'll pass up on the Dom of his deepest desires and take anybody if it means he gets to keep his job. His life.
His Avengers.
***
He arrives home late and heads to the kitchen to grab some dinner. Phil's surprised by the lights being on, and even more surprised to find the entire Avengers team waiting for him. "Everything okay?" Phil asks, immediately on high alert.
Steve nods, clearly the speaker for the group. "We were wanting to talk to you, Phil," he says gently. "Why don't you sit down?"
Phil sits, looking around the assembled faces. They radiate worry, concern, and determination. "Oh," he says. "You've heard, then."
"We have. And, first of all, we're all sorry."
"Sorry?" Tony says. "We're fucking angry, Steve, not sorry. It's disgusting what they're doing."
Phil nods at Tony, who quiets again. "I appreciate it, and I agree. But there's no point in fighting - it won't make matters better. This is enforceable, and it will be enforced." He sighs, absently straightening the folders he's dumped on the table. "I'll spend the next thirty days finding the best replacement I can, and obviously getting out of the tower -"
"Now, hold up a minute," Steve says. "I'm not done. We like you, Phil, and we don't want to see you go. You said we can't fight this one, and you're half right. We can't stop them from kicking you out as an uncollared submissive... but we can change your status."
"How?" Phil asks. He's missing something very important here.
Steve gestures to the six of them. "We all have three things in common - a great deal of bargaining power with SHIELD, a great level of affection for you, and none of us have subs. Plus, we're all rather good at lying. We're all free to offer you our collars, if it means you'll be able to stay."
Phil blinks. He stares for awhile. "You'd... really?"
Steve nods. "I'm willing." He glances around the others. "Guys?"
"It's not the most pure motive for claiming," Bruce says with a shrug. "But it needs to be done. I'm offering too, Phil."
"And we wouldn't actually make you be ours," Tony adds. "It'd just be for show, to let you stay on - at least it would with me. I've got Pepper, after all, and she says she understands, because it's not like she's using the collar, us being unconventional and all.” Phil, despite his shock at the current events, resists the urge to roll his eyes. Tony proclaims the unconventionality of dating a fellow Dom any chance he gets, when really it’s hardly an unusual thing anymore. “Anyway,” Tony continues, “I'm in."
"I am still uncertain how this claiming ritual works, Son of Coul," Thor booms. "But I too will offer the symbolic collar of ownership."
Bruce clears his throat. “I should mention that we’re not entirely sure if Thor can actually offer with the whole being royalty from another world thing. And he hasn’t had a chance to get a hold of Jane yet to run it by her, but she likes you too, Phil. I don’t see her complaining.”
Phil looks to Natasha and Clint. Natasha rolls her eyes. "You know I don't even go in for this bullshit," she says. "Means nothing to me. If I need to put a bit of leather around your throat to keep you on the team, I'll do it."
Clint just smiles at him. "Do you even need to ask, Phil?" he says quietly. "How many times have you saved my life now? It'd take another eight years for me to learn to trust a new handler. My collar is there too, if you choose it."
Phil looks down at the table, choked up. It takes a few moments for him to blink tears away and swallow the lump in his throat. "Thank you," he murmurs. "I can't - not right now. I need some time to think. But this means so much."
Steve pats him on the shoulder. "You're welcome, Phil. Let us know when you decide, and who you decide if you do."
There's a general exodus then, people finding other places to be. Thor's asking questions about collaring as he leaves with Tony, and Natasha and Bruce are quibbling over something, Steve stepping in to add his opinion after a moment.
Clint pauses at his side and lets his hand rest on Phil's shoulder for a moment. "I'm sorry you can't fight this on your own," he says. "I know your independence matters - and none of us think any less of you because you have to take a collar to stay. But we'll fight with you. You're not going anywhere."
Phil keeps staring at his hands, but he knows Clint can see his smile. "Thank you," he says.
Clint squeezes his shoulder, then lets go and leaves. Phil can hear him a few moments later joining in with Tony and Thor's discussion.
Phil just sits for a minute in quiet contemplation, then gets up and starts preparing dinner. The world has to go on, after all, even if he has to make one of the biggest decisions of his life in the next thirty days.
***
Of course Phil's going to take one of them up on their offer. This is exactly what he’d been praying for, for a Dom to step out of the woodwork and offer to help. Phil might not have expected it to be the Avengers, but then he hadn’t expected any of these events to occur. Everybody’s just doing what they can to try and get back to their level of normality - which, yes, resulted in six separate collaring offers in the space of a minute. Phil should consider himself lucky under any standards; and he does. Immensely.
The problem is working out who.
It should be obvious. The collar of the man he loves is one of those being offered, Phil should jump at that. But the spirit of the offer - necessary, out of obligation - is upsetting. This isn't because he's wanted as a submissive, but because the team want to keep him. Which, in itself, is gratifying and comforting, and Phil should just be satisfied with that and take one of the collars and not let it matter.
In fact, two of the collars in particular would make the whole process seem incredibly real - agents who work closely for years on end do often end up in relationships. Natasha and Clint have been his agents for several years now, and they’ve gone through life-or-death situations. And while most of SHIELD knows that Natasha Romanov is permanently off the market by her choice and probably wouldn’t believe her collaring Phil, Clint is another story altogether. If Phil were to accept Clint's collar, it would seem realistic and have much more chance of passing the review.
Easy. Clint's collar it is.
But not quite that easy. Because Phil is completely in love with Clint, and if Phil accepts Clint's collar, it will mean something to him that it doesn't to Clint.
Phil doesn't know if his heart can handle that. But hell, he doesn't know if he can handle turning it down either. Clint might not be offering out of love, but kindness and compassion count too - and really, how can Phil say no?
But how can Phil say yes and accept the collar with the knowledge that it means so little?
Phil shakes his head and returns to his paperwork. He's been rolling this around in his head for days, and he's still no closer to ending the mental debate. He needs to soon, though - whoever he chooses needs to provide a contract and collar, and be sufficiently prepared to fake being his Dom at review - but right now it's too hard to think about.
He’s tossed up a few ideas on narrowing down his decision - spending time with each member of the team to see who he could fake a relationship best with, discussing it with Director Fury (of course he’s going to know it’s fake), or just picking a name out of a hat and being done with it. Nothing feels right, though.
But if Phil’s waiting around on it to feel right, he’s got a long wait ahead. None of this is real. He’s going to put someone’s collar on, and all it will be is a piece of leather that keeps him in his job. Nothing else will change, and the difficulties he’s experiencing in thinking the issue over are just nerves and worry about the review. That’s all.
Except.
Well, when it really comes down to it, he knows why it's so hard to think about, and it’s got nothing to do with faking his love for somebody at a review.
It’s because he's already decided.