Archive of Our Own ^beta

Phil steps out of the elevator into the penthouse suite to find Tony already waiting for them. He takes in the modern lines and high-tech equipment with an amused sweep of his eyes.

"Phil!" Tony's smile is warm, a bit more genuine than he wears in public. "It's good to see you." Tony steps forward and shakes his hand. "And you, of course, Clint."

Phil turns to keep an eye out. Clint still gets shy sometimes with Tony, overwhelmed by his flash. Like staring into the sun, he'd said once. The description is not inaccurate. Clint smiles at Tony this time, though, and returns his handshake without showing any signs of discomfort. Phil smiles his approval and puts a hand low on Clint's back to guide him in.

Tony talks a mile a minute, an enthusiastic flow of words about his current projects at SI and a few pokes at celebrities he knows. There's something off about his gestures. They seem a touch too sharp. Most people wouldn't notice but he does this for a living. When he flicks his gaze toward Clint, he sees that his boy has caught it too. Not surprising. SHIELD doesn't call him Hawkeye for his shooting.

"Can I get you gentlemen drinks?" Phil seats himself on the couch. Clint shifts from foot to foot in front of him. "A kneeler?" Tony can be perceptive when he wants.

Clint's shoulders relax and Phil says for both of them, "A kneeler, please. And I'll have a whiskey."

Clint's pause is almost too short to be noticed. "I'll have something nonalcoholic, please."

"Ah." Tony is flat-footed for a second. "Sure, yes, that's fine. I can do that. Coming right up!" He retreats to the wet bar. "Kneeler's under the couch, just pull one out." Clint crouches next to Phil's legs and reaches under. "Wait! Sorry, forgot, not that one. Um. There was a washing...incident. And Pepper has feelings about that one now and anyway, sorry, other side of the couch."

Phil and Clint trade an amused look as Clint obediently fetches the kneeler from under the section Phil isn't sitting on. He pulls it out and places it between Phil's feet before kneeling down on it. Phil brackets him with his legs and uses a hand on his chest to urge Clint to lean back. Clint relaxes into the familiar pose, one they've used lounging at home countless times. Phil feels calmer and more prepared having Clint's warm weight trusting itself to him.

Phil accepts the drink Tony hands him and asks, "Will Pepper be joining us?" The invitation had been worded as a dinner date. Yet Phil had never known Pepper to run late. She was a very efficient girl. His suspicions were confirmed when Tony bobbles his drink.

"Ah. Later, yes, she has a few things to finish up. We talked and decided that maybe this first part would be better with, uh, just me."

Phil puts all the clues together and realizes that Tony is nervous. It's not an emotion he has ever seen on the man before. The quick sips from his drink, the eyes that keep darting to the floor, the palms smoothing themselves along his thighs...Phil knows that Tony is a switch, that he has been happily, exclusively topping Pepper for eleven months now. At this moment, though, he looks like a fractious sub. It occurs to Phil to wonder, with an unhappy twist in his gut, if switches can suffer sub distress. Signs are pointing to 'yes'.

"Tony?"

Tony doesn't leave them wondering for long. "I have an unorthodox proposal for you. You...uh, you know I've never been exclusive like this before, right? I mean, Pepper's pretty much it when it comes to serious relationships."

Phil nods, shifting his body to angle toward Tony. Clint moves easily with him, flexible and sure on his knees. Phil straightens and pulls his dominance to the forefront of his bearing, watching as Tony responds to it.

"So, the thing is." Tony stops, takes a deep breath. "The thing is, Pepper's a sub. And I'm not- I can't quite...We've tried some things." He grimaces. "Several things. But it's not...working. And I want it to, I want it to work so bad. I can't fuck this up, Phil."

Phil watches the way Tony hunches forward, his shoulders slumping down. "Okay."

"I don't want to fuck up our friendship." Tony's eyes flicker from Phil to Clint, including them both. He sucks a deep breath in. "But I don't know who else to ask." Tony's palms have gone face up on his knees. He sounds and looks shaky.

Phil knows what Tony is not quite saying. He's been mostly sure what this was leading to for the last ten minutes. He takes a minute to check on his boy. Clint looks up at him with faintly wide eyes. Most people wouldn't be able to decipher what Clint is thinking but Phil sees his boy's surprise and concern clearly.

"What, exactly, are you asking me for, Tony?" This is not the sort of thing where ambiguities are acceptable.

"I want you to top me."

Clint gasps, barely audible. Phil tightens his hand in Clint's hair for a moment, a possessive promise that he's not going anywhere. "And how does Pepper feel about that?"

With impeccable timing, Pepper emerges from the back of Tony's frankly ridiculous apartment. As Phil suspected, she is dressed for an evening out, no hint that she'd been delayed with SI work. Her make-up is understated and her jewelry simple, her dress a touch longer than she would normally wear. Her feet are bare.

"Pepper would prefer sir stop being miserable." There is a hint of tart reproach in her tone, directed entirely at Phil. Phil is relieved. He didn't quite think Tony would be so foolish as to pressure Pepper into an arrangement but he knew Tony didn't always make the best decisions under stressful circumstances. Tony smiles as she kneels at his feet, pain pinching the corners of his eyes and chagrin twisting his lips.

"My beautiful girl," he says softly, hand rising to caress her cheek. She tilts into the touch.

"We've discussed this, sir." Her hand comes up to hold his hand in place. "This isn't your fault."

It's more intimate than Phil would have expected to watch them together. They are both stripped bare, emotionally raw. Tony's regret and self-flagellation are clear. For all that it makes his heart lurch in his chest, Phil is not at all certain about this. Clint has shared Phil with Natasha before. This is different. Especially because he suspects what Tony needs will be quite different from what Clint needs. He doesn't want his boy scared.

Before Phil decides on a next move, something passes between Tony and Pepper and Tony slides to his knees next to her. Tony locks eyes with Clint as he knee-walks toward him. He lets his eyes flit elsewhere, body language softening to show his other side. Phil forgets how smart Tony is sometimes because he fucks up with people. He's getting the impression that Tony's better when it matters. Certainly, putting himself on Clint's level has changed the dynamics in the room.

"Hey," Tony says. He stops a foot away from Clint, leaving Clint between him and Phil. It's one of the most respectful things Phil's ever seen him do.

A tiny smile curls Clint's lips. "Hey, Tony."

Tony keeps his eyes on Clint, doesn't so much as glance at Phil. "What're you thinking about all this?"

And damn, Tony really is good when he wants to be. Talking to Clint as an equal, preparing, if Phil is right, to appeal to him as another sub...it makes Phil and Clint both more likely to bend. He's predisposed to like anyone who treats Clint well.

"I dunno." And that, just that, letting the poor grammar he grew up with show in front of Tony, tells Phil a world about where his sub is. Clint would never let that much show if he didn't trust Tony on some level.

Tony nods. "You know I'm not," his brows draw together a bit, "trying to steal your dom or anything, right? Because that, that is kind of the opposite of what I want." Tony waits until Clint nods back to go on. "I'm just kind of fucked here, Clint, and I need a friend to help me out."

Phil feels Clint's frame softening, leaning a little more into Phil. He communicates more with body language than with his face, a product of his childhood and SHIELD training. He shifts out from Phil and off the kneeler, moving so that his head is resting on Phil's knee but he himself is on the far side of Phil's legs. It's an invitation. When Clint looks up at him, Phil strokes his hair once in approval. He might not be sure how this will work but Tony is a friend. He deserved their help.

Tony takes it for what it is, inching closer to Phil. Phil watches him. When he stalls out, Phil reaches a hand to him, beckoning. That seems to be all Tony needed. He breathes out a sigh and lets himself slump against Phil's free leg, almost nose to nose with Clint. Phil rests a hand on his face. Tony tilts into it, eyes closing and lips parting. Phil's gut tightens. It's unnerving- worrying- to see someone going down so fast.

"What do you like?" The question may be too late, with Tony all but passed out against him. Phil will do his best, though.

"D'you do floggers? S' nice."

"I can." Clint stiffens next to him. "Just relax for now, Tony. We're not doing anything with you so out of it." Clint relaxes again. Phil stifles a sigh. This is going to be complicated. Not that that has ever stopped him.

Across the room, Pepper smiles.

**

It took several long conversations but they finally settle on this: Clint kneeling quietly in the corner, angled so he can see Phil's face or Tony's face without moving. Phil's collar is snug around his neck. Phil leaves him there with a soft word of praise before he exits again, this time for Tony.

The playroom is surprisingly simple and Phil suspects that it isn't the one Tony uses with Pepper at all. The wall in front of the cross is mirrored, the cross itself clearly custom built to Tony's size. The floor is padded. Aside from the cross itself and a place for Phil to set out his tools, there is only a lush pile of pillows clearly designed to be an aftercare space.

Tony is restless, looking as though he'll come off the couch in the lounge any moment. His knee bounces and his fingers fly over the Starkphone in his hands. Jittery to the point of shaking.

Phil takes a slow, deep breath. "Tony."

Tony goes lax. He slides the Starkphone over the couch, where Pepper picks it up wordlessly. She's on the couch, not a kneeler, today. It strikes Phil as a wise choice. He walks forward until he's a few feet from Tony. Tony's head is bowed.

"Tony. Look at me."

Tony swallows. Phil watches his Adam's apple bob. When Tony meets his eyes, they're darker than their usual chocolate brown. His breathing is fast and shaky. Phil inspects him for a long moment, searching for any hint of doubt. He find none.

"Do you want this?"

"Yes." Tony's response is soft and immediate. As they've agreed, he doesn't call Phil 'sir'. It's not that sort of scene. "Yes, please."

Phil smiles and closes the distance between them, hand coming down on the back of Tony's neck. Tony's head bends to hang low. His breathing evens out. "Alright." Phil caresses the back of Tony's neck with his thumb. Tony shivers. "Come on, then."

Phil shoots a quick smile at Pepper as he steers Tony out of the room. Unperturbed, she smiles back, relaxed and pleased. Unlike Clint, she feels no need to see what Tony and Phil get up to. She told him during their negotiations that she intended to curl up with a good book and a glass of wine.

It's a relief that Pepper doesn't need any more attention because Phil can tell Tony's going to be a handful. He's stumbling over his feet as they walk down the hall and into the playroom. He hadn't been sure if kneeling would come into tonight at all but it's clear that Tony's knees are ready to go out on them. Phil eases Tony down facing the cross.

"Strip down. You can close your eyes if you want to," Phil tells him. Tony blinks heavily as he pulls his shirt and pants off. He leaves his underwear on, though it's sinfully tight. Then Tony folds himself into a classical pose that causes Phil to raise an eyebrow. Interesting. "That's lovely," he says, "stay there, ten seconds."

Tony tenses when Phil steps away. It can't be helped, Phil can't reach the cuffs from here. He grabs the matched cuffs and has a hand on the back of Tony's neck in seven seconds. Tony sighs softly. Phil smiles and kneels down behind Tony.

"Wrist," he warns. Tony stays pliant as Phil settles the padded leather cuffs around his wrists. He checks for circulation and finds that he fastened them a touch too tight. Phil adjusts both cuffs to be slightly looser. Tony is perfectly still throughout. It makes Phil wonder how much of his jittering is actually an attempt to assuage this.

"Pepper and I have been talking," Phil says. He taps Tony's hip. As he expected, Tony responds to the cue and folds forward, raising his ass in the air and exposing his legs and ankles. "She says you've been very responsible this week, going to all your meetings and not making a fuss over meals." Phil doesn't bring up sleep. Insomnia won't be helped by pressure. He gets the ankle cuffs fastened as he speaks. "You've been good. Would you like a reward?"

Tony moans. "Thank you, yes, please."

Phil taps Tony's right ankle, just above the cuff. Tony obediently kneels back, sitting on his feet. He leans back against Phil at Phil's urging. Phil tucks his chin over Tony's shoulder and wraps his hands over the cuffs on Tony's wrists. He studies the man in the mirror. Tony's eyes are closed and his lips are parted. The front of his briefs are beginning to tent. His skin feels warm even through Phil's shirt. He feels a warm surge of satisfaction.

"Alright. Up." Phil helps Tony to his feet and guides him forward. He fastens Tony's cuffs to the cross. He picks up the lightest flogger. "Ready?"

Tony turns his head toward Clint and slits his eyes open. Phil catches the barest hint of a smile in the mirror. "Yes."

Phil nods, once, and swings. It's more of a light patter at first. He pinks Tony's shoulders and thighs. Tony takes careful, controlled breaths. The initial pain has obviously brought him out of the daze of submission he was in. Phil notes it. He is unworried, sure that he can bring Tony back down. After awhile, Tony's breathing becomes less forced.

"Good," Phil murmurs, and hits harder. The same pattern repeats, tension melting into relaxation, until Phil has exhausted the reach of the first flogger. He pauses and moves close, running a hand down Tony's back. They're both breathing hard from the workout. He'd played with a few subs before Clint that liked floggers, and they'd all said it was hard work taking the pain. Phil believed them.

"Tony?"

Tony shifts under his fingers. "Mgrf? What?" He shakes his head a little. "That's not it, is it?"

He startles a laugh out of Phil. "No," Phil reassures him. "Just checking in."

"'M good," Tony says gamely.

Phil opens his shirt and, with a mental shrug, hangs it off the end of the flogger rack. He's sweating lightly and it will only get more intense from here. He takes a second to check on Clint, who hasn't shifted at all. Clint's head is cocked. He looks like he does when he's trying to get a read on a target, focused without any preconceptions.

Phil picks up the heavier flogger. He gives it two test swings. "Breath in," he tells Tony. As Tony releases the breath, Phil hits. It lands with a meaty thud. Tony yelps. Phil waits and lands his next hit, on the opposite thigh, with Tony's next breath. Phil patiently follows Tony's breathing for awhile, letting him control the pace. Tony gets louder, less startled and more satisfied grunts. He strains back in his cuffs, arching into Phil's strikes. Gradually, Phil picks up the pace. He eases control away from Tony and finds his own rhythm, working his thighs, then his shoulders, then his thighs again. He judges that Tony will mark at this point. It doesn't bother him.

Phil stops to check on Tony twice. His responses are less coherent each time. Phil changes the pattern of hits. He's using all his control and a good portion of his strength at this point. Tony's been lax and unmoving for a minute. At last, Tony shivers all over, head to toe. Phil lets the flogger fall and gets to him just as his knees give out. Phil wraps an arm around Tony's chest below the arc reactor, making sure his hand is well away from it.

"Shh, I've got you. Just a minute, let me get you down." Thankfully, it really is the work of only a minute to unclip the cuffs from the cross. Phil manhandles Tony over to the pile of pillows. Phil removes his shoes and joins him, pulling Tony in close. Tony flops on him, octopus arms winding around him. Phil huffs into his hair. "You were good. We're very proud of you." He strokes the bruising skin of Tony's shoulders but doesn't venture lower. Tony's pliancy only goes so far, and he is very aroused. It will be Pepper's turn soon.

It actually takes longer than Phil expected for Tony to blink out of the depths of sub space. It is close to ten minutes before Tony rubs his face, cat-like, against Phil's shoulder and says, "Thanks."

"You're very welcome." It had been a genuine pleasure to top Tony.

"Pepper?" There's a plaintive note to it.

"On her way, sir."

JARVIS is neutral when he says it. Phil smiles and rolls to his feet, picking up his shoes as he goes. "Clint and I will be in the front room."

He collects his shirt and his boy and is at the door when it opens on Pepper. They smile and maneuver past each other.

"Pepper! Come ride Daddy's cock."

Since his back is to Tony, Phil feels safe in rolling his eyes. He can't tell if Tony is serious or not about being Pepper's Daddy. Either way, Pepper laughs. The door closes behind him.

**

Clint is quiet as they sit together on the couch. He leans on Phil's shoulder but doesn't say anything. Phil's not sure if he's thinking or worrying.

"Everything okay?"

Clint nods against his shoulder. "Yeah. Just...did you like it?"

Phil catches his eyes dropping to Phil's lap. He considers it, but the answer is the same as it was before they started.

"I like giving subs what they need."

Clint relaxes a little more against him. "Hm." He is silent for a moment. "What about the...you know, the thing before where Tony?" Clint gestures.

"The poses?" Clint nods. "You mean, do I like them?" Clint nods again. "Same answer, really. Tony liked using them, he needed to be praised for them, and I liked that." He shifts a little to see Clint's face. "They're something some upper-class subs picks up. There's a series of them, designed to show off a sub's flexibility and make various parts of them accessible." He arches an eyebrow. "And since I've never had any problem like that with you, beautiful boy..." And there's his boy. Clint blushes and whimpers a little, squirming. "Were they something you wanted to learn?"

Clint shakes his head then nods. "Hand signals," he mumbles.

Phil bites back a smile. Of course Clint would like the nonverbal signaling. "Want me running mission control in the bedroom, hmm?"

Clint blushes again and buries his head in Phil's shoulder. Just then, there's a squeal and a loud shout from the other room. Clint snorts and then they're both breaking up laughing. They've barely got it under control when Tony swaggers back in, Pepper tucked under his arm. She's red-faced and charmingly mussed and appears to be holding Tony up. Phil stands and helps her get Tony to the other couch.

"Ow," Tony says as he sits. It sounds nothing like a complaint.

"Want me to kiss it better, sir?" In private, Pepper's tone is tart.

Tony grins broadly. "Who's my good girl?"

"I am." Pepper's smug certainty follows her as she turns and disappears into the attached kitchen, returning with two trays of finger foods. Tony and Pepper each help themselves. Phil makes up one large plate and puts several things Clint likes on it. Clint eats off the plate and blushingly lets Phil feed him a few bites. Phil rewards him with kisses. They banter and talk about nothing serious until the haze of hormones has dissipated.

"So," Tony says to Clint, "what do you think?"

Lounging against Phil, Clint says cautiously, "It was okay. The poses thing, that was kind of cool."

Tony beams. "Yeah? I can show you that! I can teach you, we can have a date. A sub date!"

Phil sighs and wonders what he's gotten himself into.