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To Tame A Hawk...

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Clint turned to go back upstairs, heading up on autopilot as he walked, and it wasn't until he ran into Bruce, almost literally, in the doorway of the lift, that he realised he was still well and truly functioning as though on a mission, and he somehow needed to snap himself out of that particular mindset... it wasn't particularly healthy for him to be this high strung and alert all the time and it had also, a few times, been potentially dangerous to those around him... he realised this because as soon as the lift doors were open, he had reached for his bow, which he still had strapped to his back...

Bruce had backed up quickly, clearing realising that there was something wrong, and he held up his hands in front of him when he saw that Clint seemed to be a thousand miles away, in another frame of mind... he quietly waited for the archer to realise that he wasn't a threat, before walking forwards, slowly, putting a hand on his Clint's shoulder, carefully, as he looked in his eyes. "Clint... Hawkeye...?" He asked, slowly, calmly. He'd seen Clintnlike this once before, after he'd returned from a SHIELD mission that had gone particularly bad, and from memory, at the time, Coulson had taken him aside to deal with it... Well. It looked like it was Bruce's turn to deal with it this time, and he certainly had a few ideas, based on what he already knew about Clint... but there was definitely something he needed to ask Phil about first...

Hawkeye gave Bruce a short nod, when he addressed him. 'He knew then...'
Bruce looked over Clint... Hawkeye... again, carefully before deciding on the best way to handle it... Because yes, it was definitely Hawkeye he was dealing with now, and not Clint... he had lost the usual relaxed playfulness, and cocky banter that Clint had when he was around the tower, and at ease, and had instead adopted the much harder lines of someone who was trained to kill. Who would kill, without hesitation, and without mercy, if it was what was necessary... Bruce had the feeling that handled incorrectly, this could actually be very dangerous for anyone who was not wise to the inner workings of Clint's mind... or of Hawkeye's...

Bruce moved out of the lift, giving him a clear view of the room, and he said, in a calm, firm voice; "I'm going over there to talk to Phil... I need you to wait here while I do that, and then we're going up to my room... okay?" He got a short nod in reply, and Hawkeye moved out of the lift, to position himself against the wall, in the part of the room that had the best vantage point, and where he could see all the exits...

Bruce moved over to where Phil was standing in the kitchen, watching them silently from the doorway, and when Bruce got close enough, he asked; "What do you need to know?" Bruce took a deep breath, and said; "It more that I need to know what I shouldn't do... anything that might make it worse... I'm assuming you've dealt with this before, a lot of times, and I suspect, although I've never actually asked, that maybe it used to be quite a bit more than just dealing with it, and I need to know if it's safe for him to be handled... 'physically' like this...?"

Phil knew exactly what Banner was asking, and he said quietly; "Yes... actually... that may be the only way to handle it... I hate to tell you this, but I've never once managed to get him out this deep without first putting him completely under... I assume you've realised that he works differently than other people... operates on an entirely different wavelength... nothing that Clint does could ever be considered into the realms of 'normal' but then, technically neither could you..." Bruce had to agree with that... "Anything in particular I should avoid...?" He asked. "Not much... other than the obvious one of not obscuring his vision... other than that, there's really nothing you'd have to worry about... and I suspect that you're probably going to go about it in a much more different way than I did..." Bruce gave him a wry smile and a bit of a shrug. "Yeah, well... I guess I've actually got a wee bit of an advantage there, that you didn't..." Phil chuckled a bit. "Yes, you do..."

Bruce gave Phil one last, briefe nod before walking back over to where Hawkeye was standing ridgedly, with his back against the wall, his arms crossed over in front of his chest, a constantly assessing look in his eyes as he took in everything, and Bruce actually wondered, for a moment, if this was how people felt around the Hulk, when he was about ready to smash things... it was like looking at a coiled spring, about read to snap... a spring that would always, and without fail hit it's target, dead on with a truly frightening accuracy... Bruce kept his voice firm, but calm as he spoke to him; "Okay, were going upstairs now..." Hawkeye merely nodded and waited for Bruce to get into the lift first, which didn't surprise the scientist in the least.

Once they reached Bruce's floor, Hawkeye again waited for him to get out first, and Bruce did so, unsurprised when the assasin went no further than the wall, and Bruce sighed quietly, knowing this was probably going to just as difficult as he'd feared... He turned back to Hawkeye and pointed toward his bedroom. "Not over there. In the bedroom. Now."

Hawkeye looked at him for a moment, and then moved, his entire body tensed, and ready, and Bruce knew there was going to come a point, very soon, where the archer would simply refuse to cooperate with him, and Bruce knew that when he finally snapped it was going to be violent, and fast, and for anyone not currently footing the Hulk as a permanent bodyguard, deadly...

Bruce rolled up his sleeves, having changed into some undamaged clothes while Clint was off with the team, and he said, in the same firm tone; "You won't need that." He indicated the bow which was still firmly in place at the archers back, and Hawkeye regarded him for a minute before unstrapping both his bow and his quiver from his back and silently placing them against the wall, still well within reach if he chose to dive for them, but far enough away that Bruce didn't think he was actually planning on it... "You won't need those either." He said, indicating that the archer should remove his uniform, and he was still a little surprised when he actually did it, quickly, methodically, with the practiced ease of someone who'd done this a thousand times...

Bruce suspected that he was about to reach the part of this where the Hulk would soon become necessary, and he moved over to Hawkeye, who was still standing tense, and alert, and as soon as Bruce moved to lay a hand on his shoulder, that tension finally 'snapped' with all the force of a dam breaking free, and the archers hand shot forward to grab his wrist, in what would normally have been an attempt to throw Bruce over onto his back, but the scientist had been ready for him, and green was spilling out across his skin faster than Hawkeye could adjust, the assasin not actually having time to compensate for the rapid change in mass or weight, and he found himself, a moment later, pinned down beneath an enormous green hand that spanned the entire width and length of his chest, his arms trapped at his sides, and when Hawkeye tried to kick with his his legs, he found those pinned too, and he twisted violently in the still relatively gentle grip, before being forced to still when Bruce tightened it slightly, not enough to really hurt, but enough that he literally couldn't move, even an inch if he wanted to keep breathing...

Hawkeye glared up at him, and Bruce just looked back, and sad in a firm, deep piece; "No. You don't have to do that here... You 'won't' do that here..." The assasin breathed deeply, not moving a muscle as the orders sank in... normally they came from Coulson... or The Widow, if he wasn't around, but this was something different... Bruce giving him orders was new, and a part his brain struggled to make the leap over to the part that said that that was okay... he trusted Bruce. Bruce was an ally, a partner... a friend... and definitely not a threat. He certainly could be, if he wanted. The underlying steel pressure in his firm, iron grip could attest to that... he could be a threat... but he wasn't, and Hawkeye obviously wasn't going anywhere until Bruce decided he could, so, logically, there really wasn't anything more sensible to do than to just follow Bruce's orders, and do what he wanted... apparently what he wanted was Hawkeye to lay still, so he did, and he found that once he'd decided he was going to do it, doing what Bruce wanted was even easier than whatever he'd been doing before he'd been doing it...

Bruce noticed the subtle shift in Hawkeye's demeanour, that said he'd finally decided to stop fighting and do what he was told, and he lessened his grip just a bit, testing to make sure that he wasn't just faking it so that Bruce would let go and he could do something stupid again, but it seemed liked he'd decided to stay put, and that made everything a whole lot easier, because Bruce had been worried that he would have to fight him on it a lot longer... the archer was nothing, if not stubborn, and Bruce had been fully prepared to have to physically wrestle him into submission, but he was pleasantly surprised, and rather glad that he apparently didn't have to...

Bruce slowly let Hawkeye up, and the archer stayed where he was when Bruce let go of him, waiting to see what he wanted him to do next, and Bruce shrank down a bit again, and said; "Good... Good, that's better..." he stood back up, and looked down at the prone archer, and said; "Alright, get up." Hawkeye did, and Bruce moved over to sit on the edge of the bed, beckoning the archer to come stand next his right side. Hawkeye complied, his movements still stiff and tense, still alert, but he wasn't going to do anything now unless Bruce told him to...

Bruce looked up at Hawkeye, and said firmly; "Lie down." The archer stared at him for a moment, before realising what Bruce wanted him to do, and he got that stubborn set back in his jaw again, and refused to move.

"I said, lie down." Bruce said, a slightly harder edge to his voice, that stated in no uncertain terms that he would 'not' ask again. Hawkeye warred with himself for a minute.. on the one hand, he'd decided to do what Bruce told him, on the other... well. Not so much.., Bruce quickly took the decision out of his hands, moving much faster than Hawkeye would have given him credit for and, okay. Bruce had been holding back... Bruce pulled him down forcefully, over his knee, and Hawkeye made to try and get up again but there was a large, solid weight on his back that had to be Bruce's hand, but it was definitely a little bigger and a lot stronger than it should be, and the next second later, Hawkeye had been stunned into complete stillness by the feel of Bruce's other hand connecting with his ass, hard.

"I said, lie down." Bruce reiterated. The blow was a lot more solid than anything the archer would have anticipated, and he realised, after a second, once his mind had caught up with his body, that it had actually 'hurt!' A small, surprised gasp left him, and he lay still for a second before straining up, against Bruce's hand in his back again...

Bruce just pressed him back down again, landing another solid hit on Hawkeye's ass, and the archer jerked and grit his teeth, because yeah... that hurt more. Bruce didn't actually give him time to try and get up again, or to do anything really, besides let out out another strained gasp, and Hawkeye found his resolve breaking fairly quickly under Bruce's hands, and after about a minute, he stopped trying to get away, and just lay there, quietly, his mind finally beginning to sink into that place where nothing really mattered anymore... Coulson had 'never' been able to put him down this far, this quickly, and even the Widow had never been able to do it quite as effectively, but Bruce had somehow managed to take him right from the top, to the bottom in just a matter of minutes...

Bruce felt Hawkeye relax under him, the tension slowly easing from his back and shoulders, and after a moment, he stopped striking him, turning the archers head towards him, to look in his eyes, and he smiled slightly to himself when he saw that he looked very far away, and his breathing was deep, and even... Bruce shifted him off his lap, carefully, laying him on his front on the bed, with his head turned to the side, and he ran a hand down Hawkeye's back, to his arse, stroking lightly over the steadily bruising skin, before he got up to hunt through his top draw for a couple things he'd picked up just before the incident with him and Hulk had happened... This obviously hadn't been the situation in which Bruce had first thought he'd be using them but, if it would help get Clint back, then he was certainly more than willing to change his game plan a bit...

Bruce felt Hawkeye relax under him, the tension slowly easing from his back and shoulders, and after a moment, he stopped striking him, turning the archers head towards him, to look in his eyes, and he smiled slightly to himself when he saw that he looked very far away, and his breathing was deep, and even...

Bruce shifted him off his lap, carefully, laying him on his front on the bed, with his head turned to the side, and he ran a hand down Hawkeye's back, to his arse, stroking lightly over the steadily bruising skin, before he got up to hunt through his top draw for a couple things he'd picked up just before the incident with him and Hulk had happened... This obviously hadn't been the situation in which Bruce had first thought he'd be using them but, if it would help get Clint back, then he was certainly more than willing to change his game plan a bit... Bruce moved back over to the bed, stroking a hand down his archer's back again, as he leaned down to speak quietly in his ear. "I got you a few things a little while ago, and I was going to wait to do this but... I think you could probably use it now..."

Hawkeye didn't reply, but Bruce hadn't really expected him to... He picked up the sturdy but comfortable collar he'd bought during a side trip after their little tryst on the lounge room floor... (And yes, he'd actually tried it on himself to make sure that it wouldn't chafe, and would be suitable for Clint to wear long term if he decided he liked it...) It was fairly simple; plain black leather, with a functional buckle and a small D-ring for attaching a lead if he wanted to, (and he'd bought one purely because he'd had the feeling that Clint would probably get a kick out of it...) Bruce stoked the archer's hair, softly before sliding the end under his neck, and doing it up, checking to make sure it wasn't too tight, and he smiled a bit when Hawkeye gave a soft sigh and seemed to relax further...

Hawkeye felt Bruce slip the leather band under his neck, and it wasn't until he actually felt him do it up that he realised what it was... Oh... he vaguely wondered when Bruce had bought it, but mostly he felt his mind slip even further into that deep, comfortable place where he was safe, and there was no mission to be carried out, and he could just relax and let Bruce do whatever he wanted... if he was honest, the feel of the sturdy strip of leather encircling his neck actually made him feel grounded, and safe... it was firm and comfortable, and just tight enough to remind him it was there, but not tight enough to impede his breathing or his movements... he gave a soft, contented sigh, as he slowly started to fall back into being 'just Clint' and this was just made easier when he felt Bruce take his wrists, and fasten a set of wide leather cuffs around them, before he felt his arms being pulled up, over his head, so Bruce could attach them to the headboard, and the archer sighed softly again, and settled further into the bed, feeling content and happy, and safe now that he knew Bruce was in control of everything...

He didn't know how long he laid there, just enjoying the feeling of Bruce petting his back, and his hair softly, and the archer felt himself slip from Hawkeye, back into Clint, seamlessly, and Clint couldn't help feeling entirely loved, and cared for, and... owned... yep. That was the right word for it. Owned. But it was the kind of owned that made Clint want to stay forever in this nice, warm, gentle place, with Bruce petting him and stroking him, and taking care of him like he was something treasured, something precious, and Clint let out a tiny, almost imperceptible little moan, because the warm bubbly feeling in his guts was now doing things to him, and he sincerely hoped that Bruce planned to help him with those things...

Bruce heard the tiny sound, and he turned the archer's head to look at him again, looking into his eyes, and he smiled softly when he saw that he had Clint back... "Hey, you..." he's said, quietly. And Clint gazed back at him with an expression of pure bliss and love and contentment, and Bruce was in so much awe at how much the archer obviously trusted him, to let him do this... "Hmm..." Clint hummed a bit, softly, and nuzzled Bruce's hand, and Bruce smiled down at him, and asked softly; "You want me to fuck you now...?" Clint just nodded, and Bruce petted his hair and his back again, before fetching the lubricant from the top drawer and working Clint open, quickly, and it didn't take long before the archer was ready, since he was already relaxed and pliant, and Bruce slid into him easily, pulling Clint up to his knees, and the archer moaned, softly, at the feel of Bruce inside him, hot and hard, and every time he pushed forward into him, Clint's ass stung where he'd spanked him, adding to the heady sensations already assaulting him, and it wasn't long before Clint was coming with a quiet, broken moan...

He could feel Bruce still moving inside him, giving a few, last deep thrusts, before stilling, draped over Clint's back, and the feel of him coming inside him, made Clint whimper, and the feeling of being owned only got stronger, and Clint never wanted to move from this place, with Bruce inside him, and around him, and over him...

It was a few moments later, when Bruce finally pulled out of him, moving to lay next to him on the bed, facing him, and Clint just stared at him with a happy, loving look, and Bruce reached out to ruffle his hair a bit, as he smiled when Clint purred and leaned into him... Bruce traced his hand down, over Clint's temple and along his jawline, down to his neck, where he ran his fingers over the edge of the collar where it met Clint's neck, and he asked quietly; "I take it you approve...?" Clint hummed, and tipped his head back slightly, barring his thraot a bit more for Bruce's inspection, and said; "Oh, Yeah... I more than approve... Hell, I approve so damn hard I almost wanna try an work it into my uniform just so I don't haveta take it off..." Bruce chuckled softly at that, and said; "You actually would, if I let you, wouldn't you...?"

Clint grinned a bit, tiredly, and nodded. "Yup... you know I would..." Bruce smirked and ran a hand down his back again, then asked; "Do you want me to untie you, or are you gonna sleep like that..?" Clint just relaxed further into the bed and said, without even having to think about it; "I'm good... it's actually kinda comfortable... makes me feel... safe." He said, and Bruce nodded and replied; "Yeah... I thought you might say something like that..." "You don't happen to have a leash to go with this too, do you...?" Clint asked, a bit hopefully, and Bruce just smiled at him again, reaching over into the drawer behind him, and saying; "What do you think...?"

Bruce clipped the end of the lead to the ring at the front of Clint's collar, and the archer made a soft, contented sound, before starting to drift of to sleep, feeling safe and cared for, for perhaps the first time he could ever truly remember... Bruce watched him until he fell asleep, the end of the leash curled lightly around his hand, as he gently stroked his hair with the other one, and once he was sure that Clint had drifted off, he closed his eyes, and fell asleep himself, as well...