I own nothing sadly. This is the companion piece I had written along side, "The One Where Clint Was Ridiculous". Never posted it and I figured I might as well.
"You'd think after being here for three days you'd have opted for something other than a full out suit sir."
Phil sat in a jeep in the suit he had worn for the last three days with his jacket long discarded, "And you'd think after all this time you'd understand the words 'maintain radio silence' Barton."
"Come on sir, you'd miss me too much if I listened."
Phil sighed not wanting to actually smile while in the jeep with the agent next to him, "We'll never get to test that theory will we?"
"Nope," Phil could hear the smirk through the comm.
Phil could not wait to shower when this op was over. He could have taken one when the other agent switched out; taking the time to change perhaps, but Phil hated leaving Clint out in the field without being on the comm. The archer had only had three missions with another handler while Phil had been officially in charge of Barton and Romanoff and those three times were torture enough. After Tasha came back with a cut to her face, because how that happened was a mystery to anyone, and Clint came back with a stab wound in his leg Phil refused to be anywhere but on the other end of their comm. even when the Avengers started…especially when Avengers started.
"When this one is over I'm having the big—"
Phil leaned forward when the comm. went quiet, "Barton Report."
"Target confirmed. Front seat passenger side…I'll have the shot in fifteen seconds. What's the call?"
"Take the shot."
Phil gave the signal to the agent driving a few minutes later when he confirmed the target was dead, and they were soon pulling alongside some brush. "Here," he motioned and the jeep stopped for a few seconds before Clint jumped into the back facing opposite Phil behind the jeep. Phil knew why he did it. Clint always kept a look out.
"We'll debrief on the plane," Phil typed a message to Darcy that they'd be back in a few hours and to have the things ready for his meetings upon returning as well as pulling a new suit out for him. He would at least change before the meetings if he couldn't shower.
"I know the drill sir," Clint yawned. Phil knew the man was tired. He had been perched up in a tree for three days, but he'd never admit it. It was one thing Phil had learned about Clint over the years. He had learned a lot about the man he had come to be his best friend. Phil had also learned how the archer made him feel which was…problematic.
"You smell," Phil said casually wanting to see how tired the man actually was.
He laughed easing Phil's worry. "Yeah well three days in a tree in the middle of the jungle will do that to you."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Alright that's all of it," Coulson shut down the lap top he was using for their debrief.
"That was a lot easier than the last one," Clint rubbed his eyes.
"Less explosions," Coulson yawned from his seat across from Clint thinking about the shit fest that was the last mission debrief they had.
Clint grunted, "You should sleep."
Coulson raised a brow. "You need to sleep. I wasn't the one in a tree for three days."
"Yeah but when we land I'm not the one who has to go straight into two different meetings before getting to shower and nap," Clint closed his eyes for a minute while Phil just looked at him. The archer opened his eyes again, "What?"
"How do you know I have two meetings once we get back?"
Clint blinked. "You said so before we left…"
"To Hill and you were more than twenty feet away talking to Sitwell…," Phil remembered clearly because he could see Clint itching to get out of said conversation from where he himself spoke with agent Hill.
Clint shrugged. "Yeah I don't really listen when Sitwell's talking."
Coulson blinked a few times half awake.
"Sir?...Phil?"
Coulson snapped out of it. Clint only called him by his first name when it was just the two of them or with Tasha. "Get some sleep while you can," he closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Clint had been right…he had two meetings as soon as they got in.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Once they made it back to HQ Clint disappeared, but Phil knew the archer wouldn't be going back to the Avenger's mansion immediately. He would most likely go to the range in SHIELD, much to Phil's annoyance. Clint had a habit on some missions to stay awake for far too long afterwards, and would throw himself in the range letting out adrenaline he shouldn't have left. Phil just hoped he wouldn't stay there long. Clint looked tired.
Phil pulled his phone out on the way from changing his clothes. "Have a car ready to take Agent Barton home," he put his phone away and tried to ignore Darcy's smile. "Good morning Ms. Lewis."
"Morning Boss," she handed Phil a file for the meeting he was on his way to. "The director is expecting you."
"Of course he is."
It was only a half hour later Phil made it back to his office on account of Fury needing to be somewhere. Phil wouldn't complain though because…well Agent Phil Coulson doesn't complain. When he opened his office door he saw a large coffee and a lemon bar on his desk and he smiled. The lemon bars were his favorite from across the street and the coffee smelt amazing.
He took a long drink of the coffee enjoying it being made just the way he usually ordered it.
"Barton dropped that off before he went home," Darcy came through the door to put things in the filing cabinet. "Thought he could sneak past without me seeing him."
Phil smiled into his coffee trying not to analyze the feeling the sentiment gave him. "How long do I have until the next meeting?"
"Next meeting is canceled," she smiled. "You are officially ordered by director Fury to go home and rest. All your stuff is in the residence you have in the Avengers mansion aside from the things left in boxes for you. So," she pushed Phil out towards the hall while he ate his lemon bar. "Go…I'll hold down the fort."
Phil was far too tired to protest. "Call me if—"
"Yeah yeah I know the drill boss man."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Phil wasn't sure how he made it back to the house but somehow he did. It wasn't unusual to be in the house since becoming the official liaison between SHEILD and The Avengers, but to come to the house now as his new home was…different. When Fury had 'asked' him about moving in he was a bit shocked.
He had been in a meeting with the director and a few others and Fury had 'asked' him to stay a moment afterwards.
"Stark has a space set up for you in the Avengers mansion," Fury had said casually.
"A space for me sir?"
"Are you particularly attached to your apartment Coulson," Fury raised a brow.
Phil wasn't really. He liked that it was somewhere he could sleep and listen to music, watch terrible television, and relax away from the rest of the world. "No sir, I suppose not but I'm not sure it's necessary for me to move in to—"
"I think it's a good idea, and Stark had no objections. In fact he fixed the space himself placing it next to Romanoff and Barton."
Phil clenched his jaw and nodded. "Well I guess since it's all sorted already…"
"You're the only one that can deal with them Phil," Fury had relaxed himself. "If you really think it would be better if you didn't—"
"I'll start packing."
Fury smirked as if he had already expected Phil's answer. He probably did. "We'll have you moved in while you're on assignment next week."
So now a week or so later Phil walked quietly into the house he now lived in running into Tony on his way down towards one of the labs.
"Coulson Christ give a guy some warning," Tony stopped suddenly. "You're like a fucking ninja with the quiet lurking. I thought Hawk was bad. You two are made for one another," he made a face. "Tell me that's not some weird kink thing you guys have…try to sneak up on one another," he shook his head. "Anyway, you look like hell…breakfast is in the kitchen if you want to brave the pancakes Thor made…I recommend starving," he clapped Phil on the shoulder and made his way towards his lab once more. "Welcome home," he called over his shoulder before Phil could get any words in.
Phil shook his head at the crazy genius and made his way towards his room absently running his hand across the door to Clint's and then immediately snatching it back. Too tired…can't do things like that. His mind filtered back to what Tony said and Phil really hoped Tony didn't seriously think the two of them were sleeping together.
Phil stripped his clothes off not really caring about what the dry cleaner would say and threw himself into the giant shower he now had. After the very hot shower Phil hit the sheets of his bed and fell asleep but not before he took note of the amazing view his window had. He would have to examine that later and ask Clint what he thinks of the view the house had…is that a balcony?...ugh sleep Phil.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Phil woke up about six hours later feeling a lot better. He had a few moments of panic at not knowing why his ceiling was different but then he turned towards the window and remembered where he was…his new place…his new home, and two doors down from Clint Barton. Phil pulled himself from bed and put some jeans on with his old black Queen t-shirt. Not really knowing what to do with downtime in his new residence, he grabbed his laptop and made his way down to the kitchen where he usually worked and booted up to catch up on the reports he was in the jungle for.
"So it's true," Tasha walked past Phil towards the fridge.
Phil looked up long since used to her sneakiness. "What's true?"
"You're all moved in," she pulled out a bottle of water and apple.
"Yeah."
"How was the jungle?"
Phil gave her the 'what do you think look'.
She smirked. "Clint looked and smelt like a sewer so I can guess."
"He went to sleep when he got back right," Phil frowned.
"Yeah, I checked on him about a half hour after he got in when he made it to his room…passed out like he was in a coma."
"Good," Phil rubbed his eyes. "I'm glad he didn't spend the first three hours or whatever home in the range working off whatever tired adrenaline he had."
Phil hated when Clint did that. Most of the time, well every time, Phil had the physically pull Clint from the range to get him to go home and sleep.
"Well you didn't end up on the end of a scope or fist so there was no need to," she casually bit into her apple.
Phil furrowed his brow. "I was in a jeep a half mile away. Of course I didn't…why does that matter?"
Natasha gave him a confused look. "Well…you were in the clear and I wasn't even there so Clint didn't have any reason to be all worked up so," she shrugged as if it were the simplest thing she'd ever said before she kissed Phil's temple and walked off down the hall.
Phil poured himself back into his work ignoring the comments Tasha had made…or at least trying to. He had never put a correlation between the missions where either Tasha or he had been in any type of danger and Clint's need to tire himself out afterwards. Now that he really thought about it they all lined up. He was in the middle of lining up the different ops when he heard someone pause in the doorway of the kitchen. He continued typing figuring out it was Clint just by the faint scent of his shampoo…not something he should remember.
"Are you just going to stand there," he continued to type on the laptop in front of him not pausing.
Clint walked past him to the fridge and pulled out a soda. Phil took note of the comfortable pajamas the man was wearing. "Want one?"
"Sure," was all he could say while putting his gaze on the computer screen so he wouldn't be caught staring.
Clint nodded sliding over a Pepsi and sat down in one of the kitchen bar seats across from Phil. "Have you slept at all?"
"Woke up about half an hour ago."
"Oh so you got what? Like four hours of sleep…they're spoiling you," Clint snorted.
Phil cracked his neck. "My second meeting was canceled so six," he signed off the laptop and shut it down before meeting Clint's face. "You slept?"
"Passed out after I washed three days of stupid jungle off of me."
Phil gave a soft laugh while happy to hear Clint joking. He'd never admit it out loud but it was nice. "I didn't smell the best either."
"Yeah? I guess I couldn't tell over my own rankness," he chuckled and then furrowed his brow. "You didn't get to shower while we were out there?"
Phil took a drink of his soda realizing how long it had been since he had anything besides coffee. "I don't leave my post while you're out there in a nest by yourself."
"There were three other agents with you. You could have—"
Phil was giving him the 'what-you're-about-to-say-is-stupid' look. Phil wasn't about to leave him covered by some other agent…it wasn't that he didn't think they were competent because SHEILD doesn't hire incompetent it was just…well he just couldn't.
"Did you run out of suits?"
Phil's brows rose from being caught off guard.
"I mean…I didn't know you had anything besides suits in your wardrobe…even when out of the office with you you're in suit. Hell, if I didn't know any better I'd have thought you came out of the womb in an Armani suit," Clint downed the rest of his soda.
Phil snorted realizing that this would be the first time Clint had seen him in anything other than a suit. Whenever they hung out outside of the office the closest he was to casual wear was his sleeves rolled up and tie discarded in some bar, restaurant, or at the mansion when Phil hadn't been living in it. "Has it ever occurred to you that every time we end up outside the office together we are coming straight from HQ?"
"I'll give you that...so you went home before coming here?"
"This is officially my home base now. I was moved in while we were on assignment. I'm actually two doors down from you on the other side of Tasha," he sighed realizing he should have mentioned that. He didn't want to spring it on the archer, not sure how well he'd take to Phil invading on the one place he could go where Phil wouldn't follow if he asked him not to.
Clint's eyes widened. "You…are living…here. You are two doors down from me…in this house?"
Phil frowned realizing Clint was not happy with it. It didn't hurt…it didn't. "I'm not thrilled about the situation either."
"No! I mean…I'm not…I'm just surprised….You never mentioned you moving in…Sorry you're stuck with us is what I meant."
Phil internally scoffed. He was officially stuck with the bunch that no other SHEILD agent could deal with, but he wouldn't trade them for anything…especially Clint. "I've been stuck with you for years Clint now I have to get used to being stuck with the rest of the household…I'll manage," he shrugged and took another drink.
Clint stood up nodding after a moment and tossed his can into the recycling before walking towards what Phil knew to be Tony's lab. Phil recognized the tension that leaked from the archer's posture as it changed.
"Clint," Phil called at Clint's retreating form not really getting why he was leaving so abruptly. There was no goodbye or joke or…anything. Phil ran through what had happened. Clint looked upset…
"Welcome to the house…Good luck managing."
Phil sat dumbstruck for another few minutes before Darcy called him and made him focus on something else, or at least mostly.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
It wasn't until dinner, his first as a resident, that he saw Clint again. He had mentioned a pizza place to Tony and the man insisted on ordering from it to prove Phil didn't know pizza like he did. Phil sat down next to Tasha expecting Clint to take the seat next to him like usual when they ate with the rest of the house, but instead Bruce had somehow ended up next to him and Clint next to Bruce. Phil had no problem with the doctor and in fact liked the man…even when he was a giant green rage monster; Especially, now since the green guy had learned who his friends and teammates were, but Phil wouldn't lie to himself by saying he didn't like sitting next to Clint…hearing his soft smart ass comments, or sharing an inside joke quiet enough for only them and Tasha to hear.
"Okay…I'll admit this is pretty delicious," Tony said through a mouth full of pizza. "I take back fifteen percent of all the bad things I ever said about you Coulson."
"Tony," Steve complained.
"Alright, thirty percent," Tony took another bite of his eggplant parmesan pizza.
"It's more than I would have taken back," Phil quipped back.
"So Clint what's the verdict with the bow," Tony fit Clint with one squinted eye. "You ready to ditch SHEILD's sorry excuse for a bow for the beautifully crafted Hawk?"
"Hawk," Natasha inquired sharing a look with Phil.
"Stark industries best bow to date aptly named for the Agent it was made for," he said proudly. "It's fantastic if I don't say so myself…which of course I will."
The whole table turned to look at Clint. "Yeah I like it. I'll definitely take it in the field," Phil could sense the man trying to will away the attention…another red flag.
"Good decision," Tony nodded and then turned to Steve. "Now when the hell will you let me teach you how to use a proper smart phone because the fact that you can't text me back is uncalled for…"
"I didn't know he was testing a new bow," Phil said softly to Tasha.
"Just heard about it myself today before we sparred," she furrowed her brow. "He didn't mention it?"
"I haven't seen him until now," Phil ate his pizza while he heard Tony and Bruce basically dirty talking to each other at the table in science jargon.
"Hmm," is all she said.
"What?"
She shook her head. "Nothing…just weird."
After dinner instead of getting to talk to Clint about the bow or anything, Phil was pushed into the living room by Thor while Clint snuck off towards his room. Grumbling mildly, Phil sat on the couch with Tasha and Thor watching The Italian job wondering who actually picked the film…he wagered it was Tony.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"So you're telling me that you have for the third time, instead of just asking how to do it properly, decided it was a good idea to set up your op center in an actual camping area…where people camp," Phil was clenching his jaw attempting not to kill the agent in front of him.
"Well…we made sure that there would be no one renting the camping area that we—"
"Please get out of my office."
The agent blinked. "Sir?"
Phil called for Darcy to come in. "Yes boss man," Darcy opened the office door.
"Have the necessary paperwork filed to have Agent Stanley here pulled under Agent Phelps—"
"Sir," Stanley spoke up shocked. "I've been here for three years longer than Phelps—"
Phil snapped his head to the agent. "Yes and yet Agent Phelps is clearly more qualified for the position you are in or should we ask her if she would place the base camp of any operation where a civilian camp ground filled with curious hikers and locals like to hike through is located…no," Phil knew he sounded threatening but couldn't bring himself to care how scared the other agent was. "I suggest you leave this office and brief Phelps on her new position before I have security clear out your desk instead," he looked to Darcy who looked a bit shocked herself. "Ms. Lewis would you please pull up the paperwork and tell the director I'll be in his office in ten minutes."
"Yes sir," she exited quickly.
Phil turned back to Stanley. "You are dismissed Agent."
Stanley nodded and left the office.
Phil leaned back and sighed when he heard Darcy warn a junior agent of Phil's mood. The day had been long. He had just gotten back from a mission where Natasha had taken a target out on the ground while he and Clint were monitoring from afar. He couldn't see Clint, but he knew what building he had perched himself in. it was the second mission in the last week that the archer was actually maintaining radio silence and it worried Phil.
On the plane back he debriefed them both which didn't alleviate any worry.
"Okay…that's it for you Tasha," he turned to Clint who was looking out the window. "You're up."
Clint turned his head but didn't say anything just nodding amiably.
The entire debrief was full of one or two word answers on Clint's part which apparently annoyed not only Phil by the looks Natasha was giving the man.
"He was quiet on the comm.," she remarked once they were on the ground and Clint made for the locker room.
"Yeah…know why?"
"Was hoping you did."
Phil sighed. "Wish I did Tash…haven't actually had a conversation with him in about a week and a half."
"What," she furrowed her brows. "I've been sparring with him every day and he hasn't mentioned anything."
Phil couldn't help but frown.
"He hasn't been by your office at least?"
"Not unless he was dropping off paperwork and even then he just gives it to Darcy. He hasn't been on my couch once…the junior agents are no longer deterred which means he hasn't been bugging Darcy for long…and he's been in the range more," he muttered and when he saw Natasha's brow of question he added. "I checked the log…I'm worried."
"Guess I'll have to do some Intel," she split from Phil when they got inside the building and Phil headed up to his office where Agent Stanley had been waiting.
Phil got himself up from his chair after he was sure the junior agent was gone and he made his way out of the office.
"The director is in his office and he knows you're on your way up to debrief."
"Thank you Ms. Lewis," Phil took the file he'd need from her.
"If you don't mind me asking…are you okay sir," her eyes were soft. "You have been more…agitated lately and I noticed not even Barton has been around..."
"I'm fine Darcy," he sighed. "Thank you and…he hasn't been by at all?"
Darcy shook her head. "I didn't even see him drop off his paper work this time. It was on my desk when I got back from the file room."
Phil nodded. "I'll be back when I'm done. Can you please have Phelps come to my office so I can brief her on her new position," he walked towards the Fury's office not waiting for a reply know knowing Darcy would handle whatever he threw at her.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Phil could respect Agent Sitwell…he did, but his training meetings were boring. Clint, Natasha, and Phil sat in the front of the room on a panel while Sitwell gave an overview of their last assignment to junior agents for training. Phil wouldn't say that his training meetings would be less boring, but he sure as hell wouldn't have someone asleep in the back row. Natasha, Clint, and he had all walked in separately but only seconds apart and Phil was a little annoyed that Clint had managed to put Natasha in the seat between them. He had grown more easily agitated by the day and it took everything he had in self control not to shake Clint and find out what the hell was going on with him. After doing some Intel he had found out that it seemed that Phil was the only person Clint was actively avoiding, and Phil didn't get it. He had thought they were friends…Clint was his best friend. He understood that the archer, that Clint, didn't feel the same way Phil did, but they were at least friends…Phil was certain. Clint didn't have a family or old friends and it was something that broke Phil's heart to learn when he did years ago, and since then he had tried to make it clear to Clint as well as Natasha that they would always have him. After the chaos with Loki, which they had all agreed not to ever dwell on again, Phil thought for certain he had given up his secret to Clint about his more than friendly love for him, but he was mostly relieved, a little sad, he never spilled it to him. Now, sitting in the training meeting while he gripped his arm rest like it insulted his mother, he was just about fed up with everything around him.
When the meeting finally let out Clint made a b line for the door before Phil could say anything and Natasha scoffed before turning to Phil. "I'm going to talk to him…even if he doesn't want to."
Phil nodded slowly calming down. "You don't think he'll do something—"
Natasha squeezed his wrist. "No. He…wouldn't."
Phil nodded again taking a breath. "Right…you're right," he straightened out. "I have a meeting with Fury…good luck."
She gave a small smile. "You too…try not to kill someone."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Phil blinked a few times. "Excuse me sir?"
"You heard me right Coulson. You are off duty for the rest of the day and you aren't coming back until Tuesday with a less murderous attitude."
Phil furrowed his brows. "I haven't killed anyone in over a month sir."
Fury sighed. "Phil everyone and I mean everyone has noticed your increasing irritation levels. You are one of the most composed level headed men I know. I also know that your need for professionalism has caused you to be on edge. So do yourself and the world a favor and go home, rest, and fix you and Barton," he put his feet up on his desk.
"Fix me and Barton…"
"Yes fix it. I don't know what the fight is over, but it can't last forever because lord knows you two wouldn't do with anyone else other than each other," he put his feet back down and leaned across his desk. "I know you and he never really forgave me for the faking your death thing, but I do actually care ya know…it does take some kind of heart to run this circus," he waved his hand around. "So go…make up and go do whatever it is you two do," he made a face. "And don't tell me the details."
Phil was a little dumbstruck so he just nodded and left. Fix him and Clint…so not only did Fury think that Phil and Clint were together since apparently before Loki, but he just completely ignored all the reasons why the relationship, one that Phil had thought about…a lot, was completely against regulation. Phil had argued himself out of tying to make Clint his for years under the thought of getting caught by Fury and having the team they had split up. He had accepted it, mostly well not really, and had thought Clint would find someone that made him happy and take care of him the way he deserved, the way nobody in the past had.
"Darcy I won't be back in until—"
"Tuesday," she had his coat and keys in her hand already. "I got word from the director."
He took his things from her. "Of course you did."
She pushed him towards the elevator. "Get out of here boss man…go find your stud."
Phil whipped around to comment but the door was already shutting. He sighed and thumped his head on the door as he rode down. "I'm an idiot…"
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Phil stumbled into the house that was quiet for once and made his way as quietly as possible towards the only noise he could hear in the kitchen. When he finally made it there he saw Clint with his back to Phil in an old pair of jeans Phil recognized as Clint's favorite and a white T shirt.
"What are you eating," he noticed Clint give a small almost unnoticeable jump.
"Leftover Chinese…want some?"
"That sounds pretty good actually…I'm gonna change."
Phil changed into an old pair of his own jeans and T-shirt before making his way back down to the kitchen feeling the last few weeks catch up with him, but also glad to be able to actually be in the same room with Clint again. He sat down at the counter across from the other man noting the extra beef and broccoli he received. Clint knew it was one of his favorites. Clint looked tired…he needed to get more—
"Well you look like hell," Clint smirked.
Phil couldn't help his eyes widening a bit, "Yeah?"
"You look tired. More tired than you do after a long mission…"
Phil shrugged biting into his beef and broccoli trying not to be irritated at Clint's lake of care for his own well being. It was obvious he wasn't sleeping well. "I'll survive."
Clint scoffed. "I have no doubt of that…that's not the point."
"What is the point then," he said narrowing his eyes not for the first time confused over the last few weeks.
"I was just worried…you looked more worn down than usual…no need to get testy. I know it's not my job like it is for you but I can still be concerned."
"What do you mean it's not your job like it is mine," Phil put his fork down slowly at the comment.
"It doesn't matter Couslon I was just," he sighed. "I was just commenting on the fact you looked tired. Just eat and—"
And there it was again…every time in the last three weeks that Clint couldn't avoid talking to him he had called him Coulson…not Phil. It was just another thing on the list of things. The metaphorical feather on the camel's back. "You have to explain this to me. I actually don't get it."
"What do you mean?"
"I did something…it had to be me. You haven't avoided anyone else…you won't even use my first name."
"You hate when people call you by your first—"
"I hate when people I don't like call me by my first name. Have I ever given you any reason to think I don't like you, any reason for you start avoiding me Clint? I know you weren't thrilled with me moving into the house—"
"You were the one that was less than thrilled you were stuck with us…made it pretty clear," Phil could hear the bitterness in his voice before Clint stuffed some noodles in his mouth.
"I…," Phil blinked a few times. "I was joking…well mostly. I mean I wasn't excited to have to live in the house that Tony liked to build experimental weapons and help Banner blow things up in, or have to share a kitchen with a Demi God that has a love for the cooking things that are inedible. I have never actually felt stuck with anyone though, and I most certainly don't feel stuck with you," Phil's head was swimming.
"You have been though…for almost five years."
By this time Phil had pushed his plate to the side. "That was my decision."
Clint furrowed his brows. "Excuse me?"
Phil didn't know where he went wrong…, "After a year of working with you Fury gave me the option of taking Sitwell's team and letting you and Tasha get shuffled back around. Tasha was going to end up with me and you would have ended up with Johnson and his team. I declined and requested that you and Tasha remained specialists under me and gave detailed accounts as to why we didn't need a bigger team because you and agent Romanoff were the best we had. I was granted what I asked for and you and Tasha stayed with me for as long as I was willing to be handler to you both. I was never stuck with you Clint," he frowned. "I'm truly sorry if I made you feel that way."
Clint seemed to being letting the wheels in his head turn, "I…o…kay."
Phil sighed. "You have had me worried for almost three weeks and it's been my fault this whole time…"
"There was nothing really to worry about…"
"When my closest friend who is usually either unable to keep radio silence, is loitering on my office couch, scaring off the junior agents, pestering my PA, or trying to push me out of the office for dinner or drinks has taken to cutting himself out my life I worry," he crossed his arms across his chest. Nothing to worry about?
"Miss me that much huh sir," he gave a cocky grin, but Phil could see through it.
Phil felt his chest tighten, "Yeah Clint…I have."
"Sorry," he almost whispered. "If it makes it any better I missed you too."
"Then why this? Why didn't you come and talk to me…told me what I did…We could have avoided all of this—"
"This isn't the whole story for me…you couldn't have done anything. You don't understand," Clint stopped abruptly.
"Then damn it Clint tell me," Phil actually snapped.
Clint looked at him, "I have to cut it out of me Phil," Clint started almost growling. "I needed to pull back and let it recede before trying to get close to being friends with you again," he calmed his voice not looking up now. "I like our friendship…love our friendship. I love that I can tell you about shit in my past that aren't in files somewhere and that you don't look down on me. I love that you tell me about your past and your family cause your sister and mom sound awesome and I'm glad that you get to have that. I love that we can fight and not really fight at the same time, and that we don't even need words to talk. I don't have that with anyone else. I have something close with Tasha but it's not the same. I love it and I…I love you, and because of all of that I can't be in love with you because even though you won't love me back the way I do, you'll still be my friend or at least I hope you will, so I am trying to cut out the pieces that hurt too much," Clint gathered the dishes and walked to the sink and began washing. "I can be professional though. You know I can and—"
Phil was up and over to him before he even registered it. He placed his hand on his shoulder. "Clint," he pleaded.
Clint shivered. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Clint," Phil turned Clint around and pinned him to the counter leaving less than two inches between their faces. His heart was pounding.
"Phil what are you doing?"
"Something I've wanted to do for a long time…something I should have done a long time ago," he closed the distance and brought their lips together. Clint tensed at first but when Phil wrapped on hand around Clint's back and twined his other with Clint's fingers the archer relaxed into the kiss and gave in. Phil ran his tongue over Clint's bottom lip and he was rewarded with him opening up to Phil and moaning into the kiss. Phil took the opportunity to map out all he could of the mouth he had longed to kiss for actual years. Finally they needed to come up for air and broke apart, but Phil kept Clint pinned while he looked into the archer's eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I decided to try and stay professional when all it did was cause a bigger mess. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner that I'm fucking crazy about you and have been for a long time. I'm also sorry…that this has made us lose far too much sleep," he kissed Clint softly once more and then pulled him towards the hall.
"Where are we going," he sounded hesitant but followed.
"I haven't slept decently in almost three weeks and neither have you," he gave Clint a look that said 'go ahead argue with me I dare you'. "So, we are going to sleep, and when we wake up we will have a discussion," he pushed open the door to his room and finally let go of Clint's hand to pull off his shirt before pushing Clint down on to the bed.
"Maybe I should go" Clint got up from the bed ducking his head and making for the door. Phil stopped him with a head shake and a look before peeling Clint's shirt off trying not to blatantly stare at the gorgeous chest the man had while pulling the him back down on the bed with Phil.
He kissed Clint again before wrapping his arms around the man and pulling him close. "Sleep Clint…"
Phil stayed awake for a little while longer despite how tired he was just so he could memorize the feel of having the other man wrapped up here next to him.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Phil woke up before Clint did judging by Clint's breathing. Phil stayed still while he soaked in the feel of having the opportunity to stay wrapped up where he was with Clint's back pressed to his chest and Phil's hand across the other mans stomach. It was another ten minutes before Clint tensed alerting Phil to him waking up. He rubbed slow circles along the archer's stomach until he relaxed.
"What time is it," Phil murmured into Clint's neck.
"Eight forty three…shouldn't you be a HQ by—"
"It's Sunday…," Phil thought about the meeting, "and Fury made me take Monday off too."
"He made you take Monday off too?"
Phil murmured. "I uh…he told me to come in on Tuesday without the murderous attitude."
"Murderous attitude?"
"I haven't been exactly pleasant lately."
"Wait…you have a pleasant side?"
Phil chuckled and turned Clint around bringing his forehead to Clint's. "I missed that," he whispered feeling his chest lighten at one of the first smart ass things he heard come out of Clint's mouth in nearly a month.
"Missed what," Clint whispered back.
"You," Phil closed his eyes.
Clint stayed silent.
Phil opened his eyes and searched Clint's face. "I hate that you think you aren't something good enough to be taken care of."
"I can take care of my—"
"I didn't mean feeding and bathing yourself," Phil grumbled knowing Clint would get defensive.
"I know," Clint grumbled back.
"You're not allowed to do that anymore," Phil put his authority voice to use.
"What do you mean," Clint raised a brow.
"I mean that you are not allowed to question this. You aren't some piece of trash that a bunch of idiots in your past have convinced you that you are," Phil wanted to find every person from Clint's past that hurt or left him and personally shoot them, "I let myself get talked out of pursuing you because it was unprofessional and I thought you would be happier with someone else, but I never really thought you would…love me back."
"I do," Clint kissed him. "I love you and I was never going to be happy with someone else…how could I be when there's you out there," Clint kissed him again and then kissed across Phil's jaw and licked along his neck. Phil let out a shaky breath as Clint continued to lick and suck across his collar. Phil ran his hands along Clint's chest and arms mapping out all the tight lines and muscle than ran down the archer's body. Clint shuddered and froze for a moment before Clint pulled himself back up and plundered Phil's mouth while rolling them so he was underneath Phil. Phil fit himself between the other man's legs and rolled down bringing them together.
"Fuck Clint," Phil moaned as he started kissing down Clint's chest stopping to take one of the archer's nipples between his teeth. He had been wanting to ever since shedding the man of his shirt the night before.
Clint jerked up. "Well that was my idea yeah…" he pushed his hips up and Phil couldn't stop the groan that came from his throat.
"One of your best ideas," Phil mouthed into the skin along Clint's pant line. Phil lifted himself up after feeling Clint shiver and gave his most commanding look. "Pants off."
"Sir yes sir," Clint wasted no time freeing himself from the now tight jeans he had fallen asleep in. "You gonna join me or…," Clint leered.
Phil snapped out of the way he had been watching Clint strip down to his briefs. He stood up and quickly kicked his own pants off as well as his briefs, long since over being shy about his body if he got close enough to someone to be naked in the first place. "You aren't naked," Phil crawled back on to the bed.
"You didn't really specify," Clint's voice was rough.
Phil hooked his fingers into the waistband of Clint's briefs and tugged pleased that Clint raised his hips to help. Phil threw the unwanted briefs somewhere behind them and then moved back up to kiss Clint once again. Phil moved along Clint's chest again not really getting enough of it before dipping down to kiss along the insides of Clint's thighs. Phil had imagined Clint naked more than he cared to admit but actually having the real deal in front of him was…well a little overwhelming. Phil finally wrapped his hand around the beautiful fully erect cock that he had thought about for years and he nearly came at the whimper that came from the man below him.
"You're gorgeous Clint," Phil's breathed over Clint's cock. "I've thought about this so many times…what you'd look like, taste like," and then he was taking Clint in his mouth moaning at the taste of him.
"Fuck," Clint gasped.
Phil worked up and down Clint holding the other man in place by his hip. Clint was panting as Phil felt him trying to stay still. "Phil," he breathed out. "Phil stop…want," he moaned. "I want you to fuck me."
Phil pulled off of Clint's cock caught off guard. Phil was originally planning to suck Clint off…waiting to take it any further for later. He wanted Clint to understand he was more to him than just sex. "Clint I—"
Clint pulled Phil to his face. "You want to take care of me? You can start by pushing so deep inside me that I'll never be able to forget the feeling of you," he bit Phil's lip while using his free hand to fumble with Phil's bedside drawer. "Tell me you have lube somewhere around—"
Phil pulled the drawer open himself after thinking, 'yeah this is happening…cause well shit how was he supposed to deny Clint that' and pulled out what Clint had been looking for. "You are literally going to kill me," he coated his fingers in the clear liquid without ever letting his gaze leave Clint's face. He pulled one of Clint's legs up and wrapped it behind him before trailing his hand past Clint's thigh. Clint exhaled loud when Phil pushed the first finger in. "Breath," Phil spoke into Clint's ear. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"
Clint pushed himself down on the digit nearly making Phil shudder. "No it feels good. It's…it's been awhile," he melded his mouth to Phil's as the second finger went in.
"How long has it been," Phil asked in between kisses suddenly feeling possessive.
Clint grunted when Phil found his prostate. "Phil," he sounded wanton. "Please…just—"
"How long Clint," Phil pushed up with his fingers at the question making Clint gasp. He didn't want to think of anyone else with Clint like this. He wanted to be the only one to ever be here like this.
"Two years," he croaked out. "Two years," he said again shaking.
Phil let out his own shaky breath before pulling his fingers out. "Too long."
Clint nodded while Phil lined himself up with Clint. When he pushed in Phil silenced Clint's moan with his mouth and felt Clint wrapped his legs around Phil anchoring them together. Phil had to pause at first at the sensation of being inside Clint. Once he adjusted he started a slow deep rhythm that Clint started thrusting upwards to meet. Phil kissed him and moved wrapping himself tighter in the other man's grip changing the angle to hit Clint's prostrate.
"Shit," Clint gasped. Phil had been hitting his prostate with each thrust by now.
"Come for me," Phil snaked his hand to wrap around Clint's aching shaft while sucking along the archer's collar. He felt Clint scratch down his back and it made his spine tingle and the heat in his stomach pool there. "Come for me Clint," Phil bit down on Clint's neck and he felt the other man shake and tighten around him moaning Phil's name as he came across his stomach and Phil's. Phil was finished after a couple more thrusts after Clint's display, releasing into the man he loved while being held through it.
Clint just pulled Phil's face to his and kissed him with all he had, and Phil kissed back with just as much. When they finally needed breathe they stayed still panting and in the same position. It wasn't until minutes later that Phil moved to the side, and pulled Clint to him placing the man's head to his chest. They laid there for a few minutes of silence.
"That rocked," Clint murmured. Phil chuckled feeling the sentiment.
"Yeah yeah it did."
"I'm a moron—"
"Stop it," he slapped the back of Clint's head. "So was I and it doesn't matter. What matters is we've managed to pull our heads out of our asses—"
"And stick your dick in mine."
Phil barked with laughter not being able to stop himself. Clint fell into laughter with him soon so he didn't really care.
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Phil stood on the roof of a building with binoculars watching Natasha fight three armed guards and take down a target SHEILD wanted interrogated.
"On a scale from 1 to 10 how bad is the shirt Widow's target is wearing?"
"On a scale from 1 to 100 how many wounds do I have to inflict on your persons until you maintain radio silence," Phil replied trying not to smirk as he took in the shirt Clint was referring to.
"Depends on the torture method sir," Phil could hear Clint smirking and refused to give him the satisfaction…right away.
He waited a few minutes. "8…at least. The shirt is actually starting to distract his own armed guards."