Clint Barton scowled at the ground as Steve Rogers and his friends ran by, kicking up the dirt under their shoes and sending it into his lap and over his chalk drawing. Trying to swipe it away would mess it up, and he'd thought that this one had been turning out pretty good.
"Sorry Clint!" Steve yelled back over the sound of Bucky and Tony's yells, and Clint just shrugged, not responding. Steve wasn't paying attention anyway, and chasing after him wouldn't do any good. Steve wasn't mean, but his friends were, and Clint didn't like to get in fights with them if he didn't have to. Miss Helen got really mad at him when he had to take notes home from his teacher. She called it "acting out" and said that being a bad kid wouldn't bring his parents back, which was stupid because he didn't want them back. Sometimes he missed his mom, but mostly he just missed not sharing a room with three other boys. It was better than the beatings, though. He hadn't been hit since going to the orphanage, at least not by any grownups. Barney said it couldn't last, though, and Barney knew everything, so Clint tried to stay out of trouble. It was hard sometimes.
Phil Coulson ran past too, chasing after Steve and his friends. He was careful not to kick any dirt up, and he smiled shyly at Clint as he went. He didn't stop, though. Clint hadn't expected him to. He was always chasing after Steve. Everyone knew Phil wanted to be friends with him, and Steve was always nice to Phil, but when it came to playing on the playground, Phil always trailed behind. Some days Tony and Bucky were mean to him, and Clint couldn't blame him for staying back. Phil was really nice, and Clint really liked him a lot. He always shared his fruit snacks at lunch, and he never made fun of the paper bag he brought his lunch in or the too-big clothes that he'd gotten from Barney because there wasn't ever enough money for new clothes for Clint. Sometimes Clint thought that maybe they could be friends, if Phil decided he didn't want to follow Steve around anymore. He'd never had a friend that wasn't Barney's friend first, and he thought it might be nice to have someone all to himself. Especially if it was Phil.
He watched Phil run after them, frowning a bit and wondering what he could do to make Phil want to be friends with him. He couldn't be like Steve; he wasn't that nice. But he thought maybe he could do something that would make Phil think he was cool, and then he'd have a friend of his own. He startled out of his thoughts when Phil tripped over something and landed hard on his hands and knees. Steve stopped running immediately, heading back over to Phil as he pushed himself back on his rump, revealing a tear in the knee of his jeans and skinned palms. Phil's face had gone red and his lower lip wobbled, but he sniffled harshly determined not to cry. He only nodded when Steve asked if he was okay, still trying to keep the tears back, and Tony laughed loudly.
"Look at him, he's gonna cry! Gonna cry like a baby, Phillip?" he taunted, putting his hands to his face to mime wiping away tears. Phil swiped an arm across his face before saying, "No!" His voice wobbled, though, and Tony just laughed even more. It didn't look like Steve was going to say anything, and Clint felt a flash of anger. He pushed himself up from his spot and ran towards them at full speed. He let the speed of his run fuel the force when he planted his hands on Tony's chest and pushed him. Tony's laughter cut off to a sharp yell as he landed on his butt, and for a moment it looked like he might cry, but his face smoothed out into a scowl.
"I'm telling!" Tony snapped, and he pushed himself to his feet and ran off to find the nearest teacher. Steve looked regretful, but he and Bucky followed after Tony anyway. Clint stuck his tongue out at their backs before turning back to Phil.
"You okay?" he asked, and Phil nodded, looking down to hide the tears that had escaped from his eyes. Clint glanced around the playground and crouched in front of him and said, "If you wanna wipe your eyes, no one's looking. I won't tell." Phil flushed, but he gave Clint a watery smile before wiping the tears from his face.
"Thank you," he said. "You didn't have to do that. You're gonna get in trouble."
"I don't care," Clint retorted, though a small part of him did wonder if Miss Helen would beat him now. "Tony's mean and he deserved it. I know he's kind of your friend…"
"Tony's not my friend," Phil said quietly. "I don't have any friends. But my momma says I should try to be friends with people who are nice to me, and Steve's always really nice."
"I don't have any friends, either," Clint admitted, voice lowered. "But I mean…we could be friends. If you wanted to."
Phil's whole face lit up, and he grinned at Clint, skinned palms and ripped jeans forgotten. "Really?" he asked. "You'd be my friend?"
"Best friend," Clint answered, enthused by Phil's excitement.
"Wow, thanks! You wanna go play?" Phil asked shyly.
"Yeah, come on, there are swings open!"
Their first recess as best friends was cut short when Tony came back with the teacher and Clint had to go in to time out, but there would be plenty of time later to make up for it.
"Miss Helen, can I go over to Phil's house?" Clint hollered as he thundered down the stairs, already pulling on his coat.
"Don't yell, Clint," Miss Helen admonished. "Have you done your chores?"
"Sorry," Clint said quickly. "And yeah. Made my bed and cleaned the bathroom. And yes, I took out the garbage in there. All the way outside."
"Good," Miss Helen praised. "Have you done your homework?"
"Yes ma'am."
"All right, then, go on ahead. Call if you're going to stay for dinner, okay? Tell Phil I said hello!" She had to yell the last part, as he was already headed out the door.
Phil and Clint had been pretty much inseparable since that day on the playground, and Phil's mother had been so pleased that he finally had a friend that she had been willing to let Clint practically live with them. Clint had spent almost every weekend from first grade at Phil's house and had taken more than a few family vacations with them as well. Neither of them really had any other friends that they hung out with outside of school, but they were both okay with that. Having their last names so close meant that they were almost always in the same class, and a lot of the times they sat near enough each other that they could whisper together and pass notes during class. The one time a teacher had dared to try and separate them in to different groups so that they could "interact with the other children", Clint had bit her and gotten detention for a week. To be fair, he was eight years old and going through a serious dinosaur phase at the time.
Even after they'd had to go to different middle schools because they lived on opposite sides of the district lines, they'd stayed close, seeing each other every weekend and most week nights. It had been a long two years, but in three days high school would be starting, and they would be together again. They'd already signed up for classes before school let out for the summer, so Clint knew that they had five classes and lunch together. It was gonna be an awesome year.
He didn't bother knocking when he got to Phil's house, just let himself in and called hello to Mrs. Coulson as he headed up the stairs. He loved Phil's family, and when he was little, he'd wished that Phil's parents would adopt him so that they could be brothers, especially after Barney had run away and left him on his own. As he'd gotten older, he'd started to think that there was a much better alternative to being Phil's brother, but he wasn't sure how to tell his best friend that he was in love with him, so he just kissed some girls and told himself that just being friends was good enough. And it was. Phil was awesome, and Clint wouldn't trade him for anything.
He knocked on Phil's door to announce his arrival before letting himself in. Phil was sprawled across his bed reading one of his super hero comic books and he tossed Clint a grunt as a greeting without tearing his eyes away from the page. Clint knew better than to try to get between Phil and his comic books, so he just dropped on to Phil's bed on his back to wait until he was done. It took Phil a lot longer to finish than normal, and after about twenty minutes Clint was getting really bored. He glanced over and noticed that Phil hadn't even flipped the page since he'd gotten there.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, and Phil looked at him with wide eyes. "Do you want me to go?"
"No. I…I have to tell you something." Phil sat up and set his book aside. He was chewing on his lip so hard that Clint thought it would bleed.
"Well, go ahead," Clint pushed, sitting up as well.
"It…it's difficult," Phil insisted. "I don't really know how you'll react."
"You can tell me anything, Phil. You're my best friend." Phil's smile was more of a grimace, and Clint suddenly wondered if he was about to get the brush off. He knew that people grew apart sometimes, but he'd never thought that would happen to him and Phil. Maybe Phil was just getting tired of Clint being around all the time.
"I…jesus…I…" Phil paused and Clint could feel himself getting more nervous as the seconds passed. "Clint, I'm gay."
Clint was so relieved that Phil wasn't going to stop being his friend that he laughed. It didn't take him long to realize that laughing was probably not the reaction that Phil was looking for. Surely enough, Phil looked crushed, closer to crying that Clint had seen since that first day on the playground.
"Oh god, Phil, no, I'm not laughing at you!" he said quickly, waving his hands in the air like the gesture could make his mistakes go away. "I'm laughing because I'm relieved. I thought you were gonna say you didn't want to be my friend anymore!"
Phil went from almost crying to incredulous in about three seconds. "Why the hell would I do that? You've been my best friend for seven years."
"I dunno," Clint muttered, pressing ahead to change the subject. "But anyway, gay, huh?"
"Yeah," Phil blushed. Clint felt a swell of hope that he thought he'd crushed down. Maybe Phil would want to date him. He opened his mouth to reassure Phil that he was bi himself when Phil looked at his sharply. "But don't worry, it's not like I have a crush on you or anything. That would be weird."
And the hope crash-landed before it could even really lift off. Phil didn't like him that way, and he never would, even if he was gay. It wouldn't make a difference if Clint told him he was bi, so he figured he might as well not say anything. He'd never want another guy who wasn't Phil anyway. He forced a laugh and said, "Yeah, weird. So…I mean…do you have a crush on somebody?"
"Well…yeah," Phil's blush darkened. "You remember Steve Rogers from grade school, right?"
Of course. Of course it was Steve Rogers that Phil had a crush on, Clint thought to himself. Who else could it possibly be? It had always been Steve, and Clint knew that he just couldn't compare, no matter how hard he tried. He'd been worried when they had gone to the same middle school without Clint. He'd thought he was going to lose his best friend to perfect Steve Rogers, and apparently he'd been right.
"Yeah, I remember," Clint answered. "Are you gonna ask him out?"
"Oh, no. I couldn't," Phil answered. "I mean. He's so hot and popular. He wouldn't want to date me."
"Well, you don't know until you ask him," Clint offered. Yeah, he was jealous as hell, but that didn't give him license to be a bad friend. If Phil wanted Steve Rogers, Clint would do everything he could to see it happen. Because he loved Phil and Phil deserved to be happy. "Do you want me to say something to him?"
"Oh god no," Phil said quickly, which was actually kind of a relief. He really didn't want to be directly responsible for hooking up the guy he wanted to date with someone else, best friend or not. "Please don't say anything to him, Clint. Don't tell anyone, okay?" Phil sounded frantic and panicked, and Clint suddenly felt like a really shitty person for worrying about himself. Phil was having a personal crisis, for god's sake.
"I won't tell anyone," Clint promised. "Not until you say it's okay."
"Thank you," Phil sighed. "Thanks, Clint. You're such a good friend."
"Yeah, I know," Clint responded cheekily. "Now come on, you promised me a rematch, remember? I'm gonna kick your ass."
Phil smiled at him genuinely for a long moment before it morphed in to a grin. "Yeah, right. I am the basketball champion, you'll never defeat me!"
"You're all talk!" Clint retorted, jumping up off the bed and running down the stairs. "Grab your ball, let's go!" If he took the minute head start he got to let some tears fall and wipe them away furiously, Phil never had to know.
Clint glanced away from his thousand yard stare at the clock above the teacher's head to check his phone when it vibrated in his pocket. No one ever texted him but Phil or people from work asking him to switch hours, and he was willing to bet it was Phil. Even if he was asking a mundane question, Phil was easily more interesting than the causes of the Civil War. He slid his phone out his pocket, trying to be subtle about suddenly staring straight down in to his lap.
Steve's dating the new girl.
Clint frowned at the message, glancing at the time once more to see how long it would be until class was over and school was out for the day. There was still ten minutes, and now he was itching to leave even worse than before. Peggy Carter had moved from England, and she'd been the center of conversation since she'd arrived two weeks before. She was really pretty and kind, but also pretty tough. She'd shut down every guy who had asked her out so far, but Phil figured that she wasn't any more immune to Steve's charms than everyone else.
Even though he'd eventually come out, Phil had never admitted to his undying crush on Steve Rogers, and Clint had spent the last two years listening to him lament about how gorgeous and perfect Steve was and how he'd never have a chance with him ever. It looked like tonight would be along a similar vein. He spent the last ten minutes of class arranging for someone to switch shifts with him and then texted Phil, telling him to wait by Clint's locker after school.
"Mister Barton, please put your phone away. If I see it again, it's mine." He looked up and met his teacher's eyes sheepishly, sliding his phone back in to his pocket. "Thank you. Now, perhaps you can tell me what the final straw was that got the South to secede from the union?"
"Um…" Clint hedged and he heard someone whisper "Lincoln" behind him. "Uh…Lincoln was president?"
His teacher stared at him for a long moment before she nodded. "Yes, very good Mister Barton." The bell rang, cutting off her next words, and Clint sprang from his seat, shoving his things in to his bag as quickly as he could.
"You're welcome," Natasha Romanoff said as she passed him. He didn't have time to properly thank her though. He just nodded and rushed out of the room, hoping to beat Phil to his locker. As it turned out, he really didn't have to rush, because it was about five minutes before Phil showed up, looking morose.
"Hey, man, don't be so sad," Clint tried. "I traded hours with Jim and we're gonna spend tonight watching shitty action movies and eating more pizza than we should, all right?"
"You're a good friend, Clint," Phil said, but he didn't sound very enthusiastic.
"Damn straight," Clint told him. "Who needs Steve Rogers anyway? Come on." Phil was quiet the entire ride home, and Clint did his best to chatter and fill the silence of the car. It was kind of hard to keep it going by himself though. Part of him wanted to hunt Steve Rogers down and punch him in the face for upsetting Phil so much, but the logical part of him knew it wasn't Steve's fault. Steve didn't even know that Phil had been obsessed with him for years. But Phil was upset, and Clint really wanted to punish someone for it. It would make him feel like he could help.
"Steve Rogers isn't the end-all be-all, you know," Clint told Phil once they'd gotten safely in Phil's bedroom with the door shut behind them. "There are tons of hot guys out there who will love you for reading your dorky comic books and being really awesome at history. You don't need him."
"No one's ever going to want me," Phil responded dully. "I'm a nerd who likes school and super heroes and is kind of socially awkward. Who would want that?" Clint really had to fight the urge to grab Phil's shoulders and shake him while yelling, "Me! I want that!" Years of practice helped though, and he just smiled tightly.
"You'll find someone else, some better, Phil, and they'll love you like you deserve. Now, do you want to watch Commando or American Ninja first?
Phil gesture vaguely, so Clint made a decision himself and popped in the movie. They settled down to watch, and Clint wished fervently that there was something he could do or say to make Phil feel better. He felt like a failure when he realized that he had come up with absolutely nothing. All he could offer was pizza and bad movies. He hoped that could be enough.
By the time they reached eleventh grade, Clint had given up on Phil ever seeing him as more than a friend and started thinking about dating a little. He'd gone out with a few girls and encouraged Phil to go out with a guy or two, and everything had been okay. Neither of them had been in a serious relationship, but Phil had finally gotten over Steve Rogers, and once the humongous crush was out of his system, they'd managed to become friendly with Steve and his friends, even though Tony was still a dick. Somehow it had become more charming and less obnoxious.
But now prom was in three weeks, and Clint had realized that he still hadn't asked anyone to go with him, and that if he wanted to be able to spend prom with Phil, he'd have to do it as a double date rather than tag along as a third wheel with Phil and Michael, the guy he'd gone on a few dates with in the past couple of weeks. He'd thought about it a lot over the last few days, and had finally decided he'd ask Natasha Romanoff. She was a good school friend, someone he could depend on to be partners with in classes that he didn't share with Phil, and she was funny, so he really didn't mind spending prom wither. That was how he found himself standing at her locker with a sad-looking daisy that had gotten partially crushed in bag, shifting nervously as she approached him with a blank expression.
"Hey Nat," he greeted when she was level with him. "I was just wondering…"
"You're in the way of my locker," she told him and he stepped aside quickly, bumping in to the student at the locker next to Natasha's as he did.
"Shit, sorry!" he told his scowling classmate. "Anyway…Natasha. Doyouwannagotopromwithme?"
"You'll have to try that again, I don't speak gibberish," Natasha told him, hanging her coat up and raising an eyebrow at him.
"Do you want to go to prom with me?" he said again, this time clearly.
Natasha stared him down for a straight thirty seconds, and Clint wondered if he was about to get punched in the face, when finally she plucked the daisy from his hand, shrugged, and said, "Yeah, sure. No one else has asked me. But I'm not your girlfriend."
"No, of course not!" Clint said quickly, waving his hands. "Just friends. Thanks a lot, Tasha. I'll see you in bio?"
"Yeah, I'll see you there," Natasha said, once again focusing on her locker. Clint grinned triumphantly. H couldn't wait for lunch so he could tell Phil.
"So I asked Natasha Romanoff to prom," Clint said as soon as he sat down with his tray. They were in their usual spot outside under the large oak tree behind the cafeteria, despite the fact that the wind was whipping their hair around and staining their cheeks pink. Most other people had elected to stay inside, but Clint and Phil were pretty attached to their lunch spot. The only thing that could drive them away from it was snow or rain.
"Oh," Phil said. "That's…that's nice. That's good. I'm happy for you." He didn't actually sound all that happy, and Clint frowned.
"Well now we can double up on a limo or whatever. Are we doing a limo? That's a thing, right?" Clint pressed, and Phil's frown deepened and his eyes looked down cast, and suddenly Clint couldn't breathe because he knew that look. That look of utter dejection and despair because the person you wanted didn't want you back and had told you they were with someone else straight to your face. Clint knew that look intimately, because he'd seen it in the mirror more times than he could count. It was almost too much to hope for, but Clint had always hoped for more than he could possibly ever get.
"Did you ask anyone to go yet?" he asked tentatively, not sure if he was reading the whole situation wrong. Phil didn't meet his eyes, choosing instead to stare at his food, stabbing his pasta with the tines of his fork.
"No. I was thinking about asking someone, but I don't think I'm going to go," Phil said, and he still wasn't meeting Clint's eyes. And then Clint was so very sure. He was sure that Phil had finally, finally seen what was right in front of him. Phil had finally seen Clint as someone to date and he didn't know when it had happened, but he didn't even care now that it was here. After years of waiting and pain and losing hope, Phil was ready and Clint could see it written on his face. He didn't know how to put any of that in to words, though, so he just grabbed Phil's shoulders, and when Phil looked up, Clint kissed him on the mouth.
It wasn't the sexy and skilled kiss Clint had been dreaming about since puberty. Their noses bumped a bit painfully and their teeth clacked together from Clint's excited force and Phil sort of bit his bottom lip a bit, but it was the most perfect kiss Clint had ever had, because he'd been waiting for it since he pushed Tony Stark down in the playground in the first grade.
They pulled away from each other like they had both agreed upon it, and Clint couldn't help the stupid grin that was taking over his face, but Phil was grinning like an idiot too, so everything was okay. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them saying a word, before they leaned in to kiss again. It was more coordinated, smoother and gentler, and it was every bit as amazing. Clint wanted to gather Phil up in his arms and never let him go, because finally he had Phil exactly where he wanted him and it was the most perfect thing in the world.
"So," Clint said when they finally stopped kissing long enough for him to think straight. "Do you want to go to prom with me?" He took Phil's enthusiastic kiss as a yes.
Later, when Clint called Natasha to awkwardly tell her that he was actually thinking he should take his new boyfriend to prom and that he was really sorry, she just laughed and told him that Bucky Barnes had asked her third period and she'd been trying to figure out how to break off their date all day.