College Student Clint Barton
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“Still not answering my question, Aunt Peggy.” Phil reminded her. “Remember, strange sub as a roommate?”
“Oh no, I would never do that.” She let out a little huff as if offended by the very idea. “You actually grew up next door to this young man. I met him when I dropped in on your mother last week. He was one of Ms. Johnson's foster kids: Clint Barton.”
“The circus kid?” Phil had a vague memory of a gawky kid with oversized features and dubious haircuts. He was forever climbing the big oaks in Ms. Johnson’s yard and hanging around in the treetops with a bow slung over his shoulder. He'd been thirteen or so the last time Phil had seen him, right before Phil left for the Army after college. Between college and the Army, Phil's visits back home had been sporadic, and truthfully he'd never paid much attention to the kid even when he was still at home beyond a few stilted conversations. Definitely not a set up then, because the kid Phil remembered was in no way what Phil would be attracted to.
16 May 2015
The headmaster's hand tightens. "I'm very much aware of your age, Mr. Barton. And your legal status. No smoking." His eyes are very blue, very intense as they study Clint from behind his glasses.
"Uh, ok." Clint says because what the fuck? He's twenty he can smoke. He won't smoke in the headmaster's house or anything, but he can smoke.
Headmaster Coulson leans into Clint's space, close enough that Clint can smell his expensive cologne. The hand on his arm goes tighter still. "Mr. Barton, the proper response is yes, Sir."
Clint just barely swallows the sound that rises in his throat, this man is doing something, hitting buttons Clint didn't know he had. He licks his lips, drops his eyes from that knowing stare. "Yes, Sir."
- Part 2 of Headmaster Coulson