Phil Coulson's life is not some cheesy love-story.
As much as he's a sucker for anything romance-related, and yes his friends have called him a bit of a sap, his life is the complete opposite. There's no running after his long-lost lover or any kissing in the rain or any of that.
He's had a few boyfriends, none of them lasting very long though. He had one good long-lasting relationship, but even that fell through when he caught the guy cheating on him with a younger, more handsome looking guy. This only further brought down Phil's confidence in true love and the idea that he would ever live up to another man's standards.
So he's basically avoided relationships like the plague, because he's just accepted the fact that he'll never be good enough for anyone. And no matter how much Natasha hounds and annoys him and refuses to listen to Phil when he's clearly stated he does NOT want to be set up, she never listens.
Therefore this is all Nat's fault. All of it. He should fire her before it's too late and she destroys his beautiful flower shop and kills him in his sleep (they've been friends for years, but Phil's still convinced she's a secret agent of some sort).
It's Nat's fault then, when a guy with biceps sculpted by the graces of Heaven above comes striding into his store. It's Nat's fault, when he bends down to look at a price tag and his back muscles flex and his all too tight t-shirt stretches a little too much. It's Nat's fault, when he walks right up to the cash register and looks straight at Phil and he blushes because damn. This guy is hot.
"Hey, um, is Natasha Romanoff in today? She said she'd be here…?" He stretches that last sentence out and rubs the back of his neck which only further reveals his nicely toned arms. God those are great arms.
Phil clears his throat to regain his composure because stop it Phil, you're being creepy and there's a customer in the store. "Yes, she is in today actually. But she got called out to handle a last minute delivery so she won't back until about 1ish?"
The guy flips open his cell phone and nods. "Okay, so like in about 10 minutes maybe?"
Shit. 10 minutes is way too long. He can't handle this guy in his store for more than 10 minutes, let alone 5 seconds.
"Of course," Phil almost chokes out. "You're welcome to wait. There's also a cafe right across the street if that's more comfortable for you."
Sexy-Arms (that's the only sensible name Phil's mind has come up with) looks up and smiles. "No problem. I can just wait here. Knowing Tasha she won't be that long."
He spins around and goes to inspect the other flowers in the shop. When he's out of earshot Phil exhales deeply and quickly whips out his cell phone.
She sounds a little distracted when she picks up. "Lo?"
"Natasha where are you?" Phil hisses. He makes sure to angle his back away from Sexy Arms.
"In a ditch. Lotta dead bodies here. Why?"
"Not funny. No but seriously where are you?"
He hears a grunt and a car door slam. "Relax Philip, I'm on my way back now."
"And how long do you think it'll take?" He twists his head just slightly to see Sexy Arms strolling lazily around the store. He looks bored, but Phil did suggest he could wait at the cafe.
"With my driving skills, probably 8 minutes," Nat replies. He hears the car engine rev up and the clicking of her seat belt. "Why?"
"Because your uh, friend, is here."
"Clint?" Alas, he has a name.
"Uh, yeah. That one."
"Make that 6 minutes."
Nat, true to her word, does actually arrive in 6 minutes without so much as a speeding ticket. She quietly slips through the back door and is at Phil's side before he notices.
"Tasha!" Clint throws his arms out.
Nat smiles softly and walks into the welcoming embrace. In all their years of friendship, Phil hasn't seen Nat this relaxed in a long time. She slips into the hug easily and doesn't tense up when Clint wraps his arms around her. And this is the first he's heard of 'Tasha.' There is definitely a story behind all that.
"It's good to see you," Natasha says when she pulls away.
Clint grins widely and ruffles her hair. Phil has also never seen that before either.
"Oh Clint," Natasha smiles like she's got a secret. "This is my good friend, Phil. Phil, this is Clint."
"What are you—" Phil says half-way before getting elbowed in the ribs. "Clint!" He violently coughs out. "Yes, we met earlier."
Clint gives him an amused look and sticks a hand out. "Yes, we did."
Phil grasps his hand and wow. That is some grip.
Clint laughs and grips his hand tighter. "Yeah, I do archery. Maybe I can show you sometime."
Phil blushes and ducks his head a little. Right. He should just.. try to keep his thoughts to himself. He sees Nat on the side smirking at him.
Oh they are so gonna have a talk about this.
By the time Clint's out the door, arms and tight shirt and all, Phil glares at Natasha. She's standing there all smug by the peonies, cutting the leaves and acting like this isn't her fault.
"What?" She asks without shifting her attention.
"Care to tell me what that was all about?" Phil crosses his arms and puts on his 'Phil Coulson is mad at you' face.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She snips a leaf off and fluffs up the bunch of flowers.
"You know what I mean."
She turns her head and she's got that secretive smile again. "Clint's an old friend of mine, we go way back. He decided to move to New York and we're shacking up for a while until he can find his own place."
Phil goes completely red at that. Wouldn't 'shacking up' imply…?
Natasha rolls her eyes and points the scissors at him. "You my friend, have a very dirty mind."
He coughs in order to cover up his blush. "Then don't use phrases like that in my shop Romanoff."
"Or you could shack up with him instead." He stumbles into one of the flower pots and glares back at her.
She shrugs. "I mean from the way you were making goo-goo heart eyes at his arms—"
"Stop."
She barks out a laugh at his fumbling and starts singing "Phil and Cli~int sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes loooove~!"
Phil pushes his way past the door and is greeted with the wonderful smell of coffee and baked goods. He breathes in deeply and can almost taste its smell.
"Coulson!"
He smiles and waves back at the barista. "Hey Bucky."
Bucky takes a cup out and starts writing Phil's name on it. "The usual?"
"The usual." He loves being a regular here. The R&B Cafe is right across from the flower shop, meaning Phil doesn't have to walk five blocks and wait 15 minutes in line just to get a coffee from Starbucks.
The place is owned by Natasha's friend Bucky and his boyfriend Steve. It used to be this beat up toy store, but then it went under and Bucky managed to pull it back up again and turn it into a cafe. Phil was a bit skeptical upon coming in, as he's been a loyal Starbucks customer for years. But then he took one sip of the coffee and was instantly sold. The food was simply orgasmic, so Phil's been coming back ever since. The discount for being a regular helps too.
As usual the place is bustling with people and slow indie music. There's businessmen, lawyers, and those hipster teenagers with the weird piercings and haircuts. It definitely beats out the crowd at Starbucks. The cafe's kind of been in a competition with Starbucks, owned by a mysterious Nick Fury who's apparently ruthless on his employees and works them to the bone. Bucky and Steve do just fine on their own though, and they've got a couple part-time college students helping out.
"Phil? Your drink's ready!" Steve calls out. He hands the coffee over to a very grateful Phil.
"As usual, you never fail to disappoint," Phil murmurs and sighs in contentment. He closes his eyes and relishes in the smell of freshly brewed coffee beans.
Steve chuckles. "Only serve the best for our best customers." Bucky comes up beside him and kisses Steve on the cheek.
Phil can feel his stomach squirm a little. He's almost jealous at the natural way Bucky and Steve just seem to fit. They're always in synch, working around each other and moving with such elegant grace. Their love is so real and sappy and it reminds Phil again how depressing his own love life is.
He's about to drown his sorrows in coffee when his eyes bug out at the sight of Clint Barton not two feet away.
He's in a leather jacket which, unfortunately, covers up his arms and no Phil is not disappointed. The jeans he's wearing totally makes up for it though, cause it makes his ass look fantastic and Phil subconsciously licks his lips.
Of course Clint chooses that moment to look over and Phil almost spills all his coffee.
"Hey! Phil, right?"
"And you're.. Clint?" He wipes his mouth. Obviously Phil knows his name, he's been obsessing over it for the past day. He'd just rather be casual instead of super creepy.
Clint does a mini bow and flourish of his arm. "At your service."
Phil looks him up and down in amusement. "If you tell me you're an exotic dancer or something I might just leave."
Clint looks scandalized and places a hand on his chest. "Excuse me sir, I will have you know I am an excellent dancer thank you very much."
Phil snorts at the faux-British accent. "Don't tell me you're British too."
"On the contrary." Clint makes sure to really over-sell the accent which has Phil laughing and covering his mouth. Spitting coffee everywhere isn't very attractive.
"Barton! Stop fraternizing with my customers!" Bucky's voice bellows out.
"Barnes! Just make me my damn coffee!" Clint shouts back.
Steve winces. "Dear, inside voices please."
Phil laughs at the whole spectacle and Clint smiles over at him. "I forgot how loud it can get in here."
"What can I say? I'm a naturally loud person." Clint waggles his eyebrows and somehow Phil interprets a whole different meaning behind those words.
He blushes and tries to find the right words, something funny to impress Clint. Thankfully Bucky cuts in just in time to hand over Clint's coffee and exchange a couple quips.
He hears Steve sigh and look fondly at the two men. "Bucky won't admit it, but he's missed Clint a ton."
Phil pretty much got that due to mutual connections and the friendly back-and-forth ribbing. Again, he can feel that jealousy rising in his stomach. There isn't even a reason to be jealous, Bucky is with Steve. Maybe it's the ease and flow of the conversation between them, how friendly and intimate they are.
"Hey, I gotta go now. It's almost opening time," Phil indicates by tapping his watch.
Steve turns around as if to grab something, then throws a bag of Madeleines in Phil's direction. He catches it with ease, and at Phil's questioning look Steve shrugs and says, "For Natasha. We just started making them, figured she should get first dibs."
Phil nods and waves the bag. He doesn't bother waving at Bucky who's still chatting. Clint… no point there.
He makes his way out of the store and sighs. No time to be depressed, he's got a business to run after all.
The bell by the door dings and Phil glances up at the clock. He's still got five minutes. "Uh, excuse me sir but we're not really opening yet!" When he doesn't get a response he quickly slips on his apron. Well, might as well open now. It's almost eight anyways.
He ducks under a particularly large hydrangea and freezes.
"Hey." Clint gives an awkward half-wave.
"H-hey," Phil stutters out in surprise. He definitely wasn't expecting Clint to be here of all places.
"So, fancy seeing you again."
"Yes. Uh.. fancy. Seeing you, I mean." Wasn't he talking to Clint just five minutes ago? Why is it that now he's all tongue-tied?
"You left pretty fast," Clint says and pokes one of the mums a little dejectedly.
"Huh?" Phil looks up from smoothing down his apron. "Oh! Uh, yeah. Needed to open up."
Clint nods as he pokes another one of the flowers.
"Do you like those?" Phil asks and walks up next to Clint.
Clint jumps back a little and has this shy look on his face. "Um, yeah. Gardenias, right?"
"Mhmm." Phil carefully takes one in his hands and smiles. His fingers brush lightly over the petals. "I believe they mean a 'secret love,' or 'you are lovely.' Something along those lines." He glances over and Clint's face has gone quite red.
"You—" Clint starts to say but pauses, and after some reconsideration closes his mouth. He shakes his head and his face is back to normal again.
Phil furrows his brow and is about to ask if he's okay when the bell chimes.
"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me look for something? It's my granddaughter's birthday tomorrow," an old lady says.
"Certainly! I'll be right there!" Phil slides past Clint and goes over to help her. And no he does not freak out when their shoulders brush and he can feel his cheeks grow hot.
By the time he's done Clint's nowhere to be found in the shop. Phil tries not to let the disappointment get to him.
"He left five minutes ago," Natasha says while trimming the thorns off some roses.
"I didn't ask."
"You didn't have to."
Phil purses his lips and decides to sort out the money in the register instead.
By some miracle Clint is back in the shop next day with two coffees in hand, the unease from yesterday totally gone from his face.
"If those are from Starbucks I'm kicking you out."
Clint makes a face at that. "Seriously? What kind of man do you take me for?"
"Um, how about a dancing British dude?"
Clint snorts and holds out the coffee to him.
Phil sets the bag of fertilizer down and dusts off his hands. He accepts the coffee and inspects the cup's logo. R&B Cafe. "So looks like you've passed the test."
Clint smirks and knocks Phil's shoulder. "Have a little more faith in me man."
He takes a sip of his coffee and pretends like his heart didn't just skip a beat. It was a friendly gesture, nothing more than that. He's not sure why his mind is jumping to conclusions or anything.
"New flowers?" Clint jerks his head towards a bunch of purple heathers.
"They're heathers," Phil replies and picks one up. "Heathers come in different colors, which are used to symbolize different meanings. Purple means beauty and admiration. Pink means good luck. I think white is supposed to be protection or something." He twirls it around and oh god he sounds like such a nerd right now. Who in their right mind wants to hear about flowers? Much less a really really really hot guy?
He's about to apologize for his extreme nerdiness but Clint isn't bored or disgusted by it at all. In fact, he looks impressed.
"Beauty and admiration huh?" Clint repeats from his explanation. He looks thoughtfully at the heathers. "That's a nice meaning."
"Y-yeah, it is." Phil bends down to put it back in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Also his growing excitement because Clint was totally impressed. He says a silent prayer to the botany gods.
"Are you boys done flirting over there?" Natasha's leaning against the counter with a smirk across her face.
Phil tenses up and pretends to adjust a nearby pot of flowers. He can feel Natasha's eyes on him and he wants so desperately to throw the pot at her. He avoids Clint's gaze because all it'll take is one look. One look and Phil's secret obsession over Clint will be out.
He does sneak a peak though, and surprisingly enough Clint seems just as uncomfortable.
"S-shut up Tasha," Clint mumbles. His eyes meet Phil's who glances away very quickly. "And besides, I don't flirt with just anyone."
Phil's shoulders hitch up at that. Is Clint suggesting what he thinks he's suggesting? No, no that's not possible because this is Clint and he's just Phil.
His eyes suddenly land on the heathers and one thought leads to another and okay this is an extremely bad idea. But Natasha always said he was too big of a scaredy cat, so maybe it's time to prove her wrong. Maybe he should just… go for it?
He stands up and pushes the heathers into Clint's chest. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. "H-here! S-since you seemed to.. li-ike them!" He steels himself for the rejection, for the weirded out look he'll probably find on Clint's face.
His breath catches in his throat when he feels Clint's hands touch his. He slowly opens his eyes and sees Clint staring at the flowers with this unreadable expression.
"These are… for me?" Clint asks. He blinks a couple times and touches them.
Phil nods jerkily. He really wishes it was his hands Clint was touching. He draws his hand back and balls it up into a tight fist. "Free of charge, of course."
"Woah, wait man you serious?"
"Of course I am. Don't make me say it again," he says stubbornly.
Clint doesn't say anything for a while. He bites his lip and it looks like he's on the verge of a smile.
"Thank you," he says finally.
Phil feels like the wind was just knocked right out of his chest.
"Oh my god!" Natasha squeals, if that's humanly possible, once Clint's gone. "You totally just flirted. You just flirted with Clint using… flowers!" She throws her hands up. "Genius, absolutely genius."
Phil tries to keep his face neutral because she's right. He did just flirt with Clint Barton using flowers and he doesn't know how to react to that.
"I swear to god Phil, I swear to god you could win any woman or man's heart with that move."
"Uh-huh. So are you going to wrap those up or not?" He points to the flowers on the countertop.
Natasha does a dorky salute. "On it boss!"
To Phil's delight, Clint does continue stopping by the store.
He mainly just chats with Natasha and delivers coffee to Phil which he can't help interpreting as something more than a friendly gesture. But it can only really be a friendly gesture because Clint doesn't bring up the heathers incident.
Which is fine. It's whatever. Phil just put his whole heart and soul into doing that but seriously it's whatever. As long as he gets his daily dose of arm sex, he's fine.
"I can hear you thinking from over here."
"Shut up, Natasha."
Clint comes in three days later with coffee and the new addition of danishes.
"Wow, I'm in for a real treat today," Phil says and eagerly accepts the danish.
Clint hums in response and takes a sip of his coffee. He seems kind of jittery and on edge today, but Phil just brushes it off as a caffeine high. Nat did mention he was something of a coffee addict. Thankfully she's out on a delivery right now.
"So, you need something?" Phil says around his danish.
Clint jolts at the question. "Uh, yeah. My uh, my sister." He scratches his cheek and looks anywhere but Phil. Strange. And he still hasn't mentioned anything about the heathers yet. But seriously, Phil's fine.
"Well, technically my sister's boyfriend. He uh, he's not sure what to get her. For her birthday. I suggested flowers, and well.. seeing as how it was my idea, I am now tasked with getting the flowers."
Phil's face softens out because an awkward Clint is actually very adorable. "What did you have in mind?"
"Um, not sure. I don't speak flowers. So." He does finally look at Phil, but it's broken all too soon and he starts swinging his arms back and forth. "So, what do you think Mr. Flower Man?"
Phil tries not to stare too long because his arms are… flexing… a lot. He shakes his head and stuffs the rest of the danish into his mouth.
"Hey, you got some icing on your—" Clint gestures to his mouth.
Phil blushes furiously because way to go Phil, that was definitely not attractive. He wipes his mouth on his sleeve but Clint shakes his head.
"Nope, still there. Here it's right—" Clint reaches over and swipes his thumb over Phil's lips. Phil stares wide-eyed at Clint, his eyes never leaving the other's face.
Finally Clint pulls back and sucks his thumb, making Phil blush even harder. "There, all gone."
Phil doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he lets it out. His heart won't calm down now and he's pretty sure his face is like, extremely red. "Uh-huh, all gone." He blinks rapidly out of his reverie and beats himself internally. Come on Phil, you have a job to do stop staring this is not the time.
He starts searching around the shop for flowers that basically scream 'I love you.' He spies a bouquet of roses near the back and cringes a little. "Okay, now I don't wanna seem too cliche here but roses are always a safe bet. You can't really go wrong with those."
Clint furrows his brow and bites his lip. How he manages to make that sexy Phil will never understand.
"Actually, I was thinking maybe carnations. Red carnations."
"Carnations huh?" Phil hums and starts searching for them. He finds them by a group of cactus flowers and holds them out to Clint. "These good?"
Clint nods excitedly, like a puppy almost. "Yes, those are perfect."
Phil starts wrapping them up and trims off a few bad leaves. He's almost done when Clint's words break through his thoughts.
"My heart aches for you."
Phil fumbles with the scissors and stills his whole body. "W-what?" He breathes out.
"My heart aches for you," Clint repeats with a wide smile. "That's the meaning of carnations, right?"
Oh. Oh. OH. He was talking about… carnations. Right. Geez Phil, get your mind out of the gutter because he obviously wasn't referring to you.
He laughs nervously. It's best to change topics now. "R-right. Red carnations, a perfect gift for your sister. I'm sure she'll love them."
"Uh-huh." Clint's still smiling as he accepts the carnations. "I think she'll really love them."
For some reason it feels like they aren't talking about his sister anymore.
A whole week has passed until Clint shows up again. Phil can't help the anticipation bubbling in his chest when he sees Clint because a week is way too long. And it might just be his imagination but his arms look more toned than ever.
"Hey Clint, you been doing somer archery lately?" Natasha asks and smirks in Phil's direction.
Phil narrows his eyes at her, but not today. He is not doing this not today because Clint is here. He will not let Natasha embarrass him in front of Clint.
"Yeah, sorta," Clint says. He hands a cup of coffee over to Phil and yes, yes he can just make out from this angle how nicely toned his arms are.
He can already feel the heat rising in his face so he clears his throat and puts on his best professional smile. "Hey Clint, good seeing you again. Did your sister like the carnations?"
"What?" And then realization crosses his face. "Oh, yeah! Right! She uh, she loved them. Really great, thanks for that by the way. Actually!" He claps his hands together and suddenly changes topics. "I was wondering if you could help me look for daffodils."
"Daffodils?" Phil repeats as he takes a sip of his coffee.
"Yes, daffodils."
"Is this another request from your sister's boyfriend?"
"Uh, no. This is for my, um, grandma. A little appreciation gift if you know what I mean?" Somehow that seems like a very weak explanation.
"Oh god," Natasha mutters and heads for the back room. "You deal with this utter fuckery Phil."
He watches her stalk away and jumps as the door slams shut. "Uh." He looks at Clint. "Do you know what that was all about?"
"Nope, no idea! So, daffodils?"
"Um. Right." Phil points to the daffodils by the window. "Are those okay? They're kinda old, and we haven't got a new shipment yet so they may die off soon."
"Nah man, don't worry about it they're great." Clint strides over and picks a few out. Phil decides to leave him be while he waters the nearby bonsai tree. Yes he realizes this is a flower shop, but he feels like it adds some character to the place. It gives off a very zen atmosphere and he's considering getting a buddha too.
"You're the only one for me."
"Excuse me?" Phil's hands slip around the watering can, but he strengthens his grip just in time only to have some water slosh out the side.
"Isn't that the meaning of daffodils?"
Phil hugs the watering can to his chest and stares down at the water inside. Clint just keeps going though.
"I mean, my grandma will be really happy to know how much I appreciate her. She's all alone, has been for some years now. Someone needs to be there for her, you know?"
Phil still hasn't said anything and Clint is becoming visibly anxious.
"Phil?"
"Hmm?" He lifts his head up. "Oh, right. Yes, daffodils. They're usually given to someone very precious to you. I think your grandma will love them."
Clint nods slowly. "Yeah. Yeah I agree." He bites his lip and shifts from foot to foot. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"That'll be $6.50." Phil presses a couple buttons on the register and waits for Clint to hand over the money.
Clint stares for a moment, then takes out a couple bills and coins and presses them into Phil's palm. His hand lingers for a moment, but he draws it back and walks out the door with his daffodils without saying another word.
Phil drops his head onto the counter and releases a shuddering breath. He doesn't even bother with the now-cold coffee.
Oh god, what the hell?
The third time. The third time is the last straw because Phil's heart feels like it's gonna be ripped out of his chest and he really can't take this anymore.
Clint comes in that weekend and doesn't really make eye contact or greet Phil. Not even an offer of coffee. He says a quiet hello to Natasha, but other than that he doesn't say much.
Phil eyes him warily as he makes his away around the shop. He finally stops in front of some primroses and looks right into Phil's eyes.
"I can't live without you—"
Phil slams his fists against the wall, creating a deafening silence in the shop. Nat looks nervously between the two men.
"Enough," Phil says in a dangerously low voice. "That is… quite enough, Clint."
"Phil. What—"
"Are you making fun of me?"
Clint's eyes widen and the color drains from his face. "What?! No, Phil I—"
"Because it's not funny anymore. This is about the heathers, isn't it? And because of that now you think it's funny, don't you? Spouting shitty flower meanings at me? Well guess what Clint? It worked! I hope you're happy!" Phil turns to walk away but Clint grabs his arm and holds on tight.
"Phil. This not me making fun of you—"
"REALLY?!" Phil spins around and shoves Clint away, who stumbles back and bangs his head against a hanging flower pot. "REALLY CLINT?! BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT IT SEEMS LIKE!"
He scrubs a hand over his face and covers his eyes. "Do you know.. how much courage it took for me to do that? Do you know?" He asks in a cracked voice. "Because I don't think you do. If this is your idea of a joke then well done Clint, well done." Phil staggers backwards and walks out the back door as quickly as possible.
Natasha finds him sitting on the back stoop by the dumpsters. She sits down next to him and holds his hand.
"Thanks," Phil sniffs and rubs forcefully at the tears threatening to spill.
"Phil, you know Clint wasn't trying to make you upset right?" She asks quietly.
Phil scoffs and wraps his one arm around his knees. He brings his head down and sighs from the emotional exhaustion. And it's not even 12 pm yet.
"Or does this have to do with something else?"
"Meaning?"
"Are you scared of getting close to Clint?"
The question makes Phil peak his eyes out. "I don't understand."
Natasha sighs and rubs her thumb over Phil's hand. "Phil, ever since Evan you've been so reluctant to get close to anyone. You closed yourself up, and as a result you've forgotten how to really love someone. Every time something good happens, you push it away because you're afraid of something bad happening. And that's stupid because bad things will always happen."
Phil snorts and tries not to let her words get to him, even though he knows deep down she's right. "And what do you expect me to do about those bad things then?"
"You deal with them, Phil. It's true that happiness doesn't last forever, but it's up to us to fight for that happiness and make it last as long as humanly possible." She stands up and squeezes his shoulder. "Think about it."
Clint's stopped coming to the store since then. Phil doesn't know whether to be relieved or upset because he's just a whole mess of emotions right now.
He won't deny that he misses Clint, because he does miss him and his dorkiness and when he brings him coffee from R&B's.
Phil sighs and looks longingly at the door. He's being stupid. Of course Clint isn't coming, Phil had made that very very clear the last time.
Natasha pats his shoulder as she makes her way past.
"Thank you so much," Phil says to the delivery man. He signs off on the papers while Natasha brings in the last box of flowers.
He shuts the door and lets his shoulders sag a little. It's been a very long week of wedding arrangements, party arrangements, corsages and boutonnieres and everything else in between. It's good because work distracts him from things like a certain archer who still hasn't come by yet.
"Where do you want these boss?" Natasha asks.
"Just put them somewhere for now and we'll sort them out later," Phil says to the door. He's about to turn around when he sees something purple poking out of a box. "Hey Natasha, what are those? I don't remember ordering them."
"That's because I did," she huffs as she stacks up the empty boxes. "A woman called, last minute order for heathers."
Phil feels his jaw go slack. Purple heathers. The thing that started this whole mess in the first place. He slowly walks over and crouches near them.
"Beautiful aren't they?" He says wistfully.
Natasha gives a small smile and nods. She silently slips out the back and leaves him to his thoughts.
His fingers ghost over the petals, afraid he'll destroy them with just one touch. Just like everything else in his life. "Yes, very beautiful indeed."
"Do you really think I'm afraid of Clint?" Phil blurts out one morning.
Natasha stops sorting out the bills by the register and frowns at him.
"Because what you said, it—you were right. About me. I know I'm afraid to get close to people, and what me and Clint had it was.. it was good. And of course I got scared, I panicked, and I took his actions the wrong way and I'm not sure how to.. get that back," Phil finishes lamely.
"Oh, Phil." Natasha reaches up to hug him. Phil clings to her and sobs into her shoulder. He really truly did screw up something good. And now he doesn't know what to do because he sucks at this. He doesn't know how to fix this.
"He'll come around eventually. Give him some time."
Phil groans into his coffee cup. He is such a horrible human being. Clint hasn't been in his shop in weeks, and it's very possible what they had is now long over.
"Hey, cheer up man!" Bucky claps his shoulder with such force Phil almost falls right out of his chair. He scowls up at him but Bucky ignores it.
"Clint isn't the type to hold grudges."
"Bucky he hasn't been around in weeks. Pretty sure he's holding a grudge."
Steve takes the seat opposite from Phil and offers a snickerdoodle. Phil reluctantly takes it and nibbles around the edges.
"Like Nat said, he'll come around," Steve reassures. Screw Steve and his always sunny outlook on life. The world isn't always sunshine and rainbows.
"Hey, can I get a coffee and some danishes please?" A customer calls out.
Bucky turns to answer him but pauses and rolls his lips. "Sure, coming right up." He exchanges a glance with Steve, probably some stupid lovey-dovey secret talk that Phil is obviously not privy to. He's never gonna have that with Clint after all.
Steve rises from his seat to make the order.
"Don't lose hope man. You never know, people can surprise you," Bucky says a little too cryptically.
"Uh-huh," Phil answers glumly. Suddenly another cup of coffee and a danish is set down in front of him. "Hey I didn't order this—" The words die off his lips immediately and he goes silent.
"Hey," Clint greets softly. He's got his hands stuffed into his jeans, the jeans that make his ass look fantastic Phil thinks mournfully.
Bucky whistles and walks away, leaving the two of them alone.
"Um. Hey," Phil says awkwardly.
"So, we should talk." Clint sits down and rubs his hands together. "I should explain myself. Can I explain myself, if that's okay with you?"
"Um, sure?" Phil answers in a confused voice.
"Look, I wasn't—I didn't—I—" He makes a noise of frustration and buries his face in his hands. "Look, I like you. I've liked you for a really long time and I didn't know how to express that because I have such awful luck with guys and relationships in general and then you did that.. thing. With the gardenias. I knew right then how fucked I was and then the.. the heathers, man! I couldn't stop thinking about what you did, and it gave me this idea like hey! Maybe I should express myself in the language of flowers! Yeah and that turned out to be a great idea Clint, really great. Push away the guy I'm in love with."
"You're… in love with me?"
"Of course I am! I thought I made myself pretty obvious—" Clint brings his head up, and he can tell from the shock on Phil's face that he most certainly did not pick up on this.
"Wait, are you serious?" Phil blinks a couple times in order to process this through his head. Clint is.. in love. With him. Phil Coulson. Phil Coulson, who can't even get a single guy to look at him and here Clint Barton is, flustered and love-sick. Over Phil.
"I… I didn't know you felt that way."
"Well, yeah! What did you think I was doing?"
"Oh, I'm sorry! Contrary to popular belief I actually did think you were making fun of me!"
"And why exactly would you think that?" Clint asks curiously.
"Well, because.. because.. I don't exactly, uh.. have the best luck with relationships… either…" His voice dies out towards the end and he averts his gaze. He sees Clint reach across the table and place a cautious hand on top of his.
"Hey, I get it. You don't have to force yourself, I understand. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable." Clint gives a gentle squeeze, stands up and is out the door in mere seconds.
Phil looks back at Steve and Bucky who make frantic gestures and point madly at the door. He doesn't even have time to react because he's running out of the cafe and trying to catch up with Clint. He sees him round a corner and speeds up his pace.
"Wait, Clint!"
He turns around and makes an Oomf! sound as Phil barrels right into him. "Phil—"
Phil cuts him off by reaching up on his tip-toes and smashing their lips together. At first Clint doesn't move, but then he wraps his arms around Phil's waist and deepens the kiss significantly. Phil makes a noise of surprise as he's backed up against a lamppost.
A couple people pass by and point and smile at them, but surprisingly Phil is totally okay with it. Because he's kissing Clint and Clint is kissing him and that's all that matters right now.
And then suddenly, just because life hates him, it starts pouring. This unfortunately makes them break the kiss.
Clint takes off his jacket and throws it on top of their heads. "Wow, didn't see that one coming!" He yells over the rain which only seems to grow heavier by the minute.
Phil throws his head back and laughs. "Just like a sappy romance movie!"
Clint laughs too, but then he's staring at Phil like he's the whole world and slowly leans in. Phil meets him half-way and their lips brush lightly. He feels Clint dig his fingers into Phil's hipbones and reel him in. Phil wraps his arms around Clint's neck and practically melts into the kiss.
And just like that, they end with a kiss in the rain like some stupid cheesy love-story.
*Epilogue, 1 Year Later*
"Clint!" Phil calls out from the kitchen. "Your ass better be dressed and ready to go! We're going to be late for Nat's!" To be honest, even Phil isn't completely ready. His tie is still loose and hanging around his neck, and he hasn't picked out a pair of shoes yet.
Phil buttons up his cuffs and straightens out his shirt collar. He takes a peak in the mirror and decides he doesn't look too awful. He's wearing his glasses since his eyes decided to suck today, and his hair is neatly brushed back. He probably won't look good in comparison to Clint, but it's enough for Phil.
Clint finally steps out of the bedroom and stops upon seeing Phil. He watches Clint's reflection from the mirror and raises an eyebrow.
"Like what you see?"
"Holy shit, yeah," Clint breathes out. "Shit, you—you look gorgeous babe."
Phil blushes and distracts himself with his tie. Even after a year of this, he's still not used to the compliments. No one's ever stuck around this long and still throws out compliments like it's Christmas day.
"Here, let me." Clint steps up behind him so Phil's back is completely against his chest. He brings his hands around the front and starts doing Phil's tie. All the while, Clint stares intently at Phil's reflection and smirks when he brushes his fingers against Phil's neck and a blush rises.
"You look good babe," Clint murmurs into his ear and presses a light kiss against his cheek.
"T-thanks," Phil says shyly and ducks his head down.
"Hey, come on. Lemme see you." Clint hooks his finger under Phil's chin and lifts it up until their eyes meet in the mirror. "You look beautiful."
Alright now this really isn't fair because Phil's the one getting all the compliments and blushing like some love-sick teenager.
"Y-you don't have to do that you know."
"Hmm? Do what?" Clint hums as he tightens the tie.
"Y-you know.. th-throw compliments out like that. It's fine, really."
Clint's fingers pause and Phil looks up. Suddenly Phil is spun around and backed up against the wall.
"C-Clint?"
"Don't ever say that again," Clint says with his forehead all scrunched up in worry. "Don't. I love you, and I'm allowed to throw out compliments whenever I want."
Phil sucks in a breath at Clint's scrutinizing gaze. His face is so earnest, he actually means it. He's never… no one's ever done this for him before.
"I-I love you too," Phil whispers.
Clint chuckles and leaves a lingering kiss on Phil's forehead. "I will always mean what I say when it comes to you, so please don't think I'm faking it."
Phil's been experiencing all sorts of firsts with Clint. He was never this happy or embarrassed with Evan. It just shows how much Phil actually cares about Clint, wants to hold onto him and that happiness for as long as possible.
Before he loses his nerve, he presses a quick kiss onto Clint's lips and buries his head into the crook of Clint's neck.
Clint blinks a few times, clearly caught off guard by the sudden kiss. "Phil?"
"S-shut up. W-we're gonna be late, so let's go already."
Clint laughs and ruffles his neatly brushed hair. Too bad he doesn't care. "Yes, let's."
Phil pulls away and goes to collect his shoes while Clint fixes his hair a little.
"Oh wait! Before I forget!" Clint hurries into the living room and makes some rustling noises in the corner.
Phil's about to ask and suddenly a huge obnoxious bouquet of red roses is thrust into his face.
"For you," Clint says.
"What's the occasion?" Phil asks amusingly. He takes the bouquet and leans down to smell the roses.
"Nothing. Just wanted to say I love you," Clint shrugs.
Phil looks up from under his eyelashes. "That's all?"
"Yep, that's all."
"And there's… nothing else?"
"Nope." Clint rocks back on his heels and stares up at the ceiling.
"Clint—"
"Come on, come on. Didn't you say we were gonna be late?" Clint guides Phil by the waist to the door.
"Oh crap! You're right we gotta go!"
As Phil runs around gathering the last items, Clint stuffs his hand into his pocket and feels around for the ring.
Maybe that can wait until tonight, he decides.