I decided to get up a little earlier and write a new chapter before I have to go to work this evening. I promised my sister to go shopping with her on Saturday after I get finally off of work, to help her to get through her mental breakdown. From 6 p.m. today until 1 p.m. the next day. Yay -.-, at least not a three days shift again or double shift, 24 hours is a normal shift. I hate the shift from Friday morning to Sunday evening most but that's just once a month and I did it last week. Of course I can sleep there at night (how much depends on the mood the youths are in) but that's not the same. Not restless at all.
That's why I don't update as much as I should (or want) at times. Sorry.
I hope the chapter is okay :)
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Clint strolled to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway.
It had surprised him that Phil wasn't in bed with him the moment he woke up but the smell of coffee had given him an idea why his handler had snuck out.
Phil prepared breakfast and didn't seem to notice his archer yet.
The scene in front of him reminded him of the mornings after he lost his hearing and Phil had taken him home with him.
Losing his hearing wasn't something that normally haunted his mind but Phil's trip down memory lane the day before had woken a few memories.
The pain in his head the moment the arrow malfunctioned was agonizing, the last he remembered before his world went dark was feeling the blood leaking out his ears.
Waking up in medical had been a surprise, because he couldn't remember how he ended up there. He needed a while to organize his thoughts and memories.
Phil's presence was what gave him a sense of safety until the older man opened his pretty mouth without making a sound.
It was a shock to realize that it wasn't Coulson's lack of actual words that caused the silence but his damaged ears.
He was deaf. Coulson seemed as surprised as he was about the fact.
Clint couldn't remember much after that, he remembered freaking out. Fighting Phil and the doctors. He remembered Phil's gentle touches and heartbreaking expression. Phil's touches felt good but weren't enough to take away his fears.
The week he had to stay in medical was boring and frightening at the same time. They made test and more test just to confirm that the arrow had destroyed his hearing permanently.
He wasn't sure what to do after he got released. He hated the hearing aids medical provided but he needed them to continue his work.
He needed S.H.I.E.L.D, it was his home. It was all he had.
The walk to the parking lot scared the shit out of him, he felt like everyone was staring at him even though no one knew about his deafness.
Finally reaching the parking lot took a load off his mind. He could breathe again.
Clint had been so unfocused that he didn't sense the man behind him and jerked as someone suddenly took his hand.
He turned to the side, looking into Coulson's kind and understanding eyes. The older man led him to his car, squeezing his hand very tight.
It had been strange to live with Coulson. They watched T.V., they ate together and slept in the same bed. Phil never let him out of sight.
Clint decided to cook for Phil, it was his way to say thank you for caring. Thank you for not letting me down. The archer was depressive, and sometimes very angry. Yelling at Phil and throwing things at him. At least he was sure he yelled something, but he wasn't sure what noises had left his throat.
His mood swings must have been hard to handle for Coulson but he never gave up. Assuring Clint that Nick was working on a solution and that Hawkeye was still a member of Team Coulson.
The first thing he noticed after surgery was Phil's warm hand on his own. The nurses said he never left the room, not even for coffee. Clint felt like crying, Coulson's devotion and honesty was so alien to him that it hurt inside his chest. He was happy and honored by Coulson's display of affection nonetheless.
"Do you intend to stand there all day?" There was amusement in Phil's voice.
"Maybe," Clint smiled. "Smells delicious."
"Eggs, bacon and coffee. There's even orange juice somewhere."
Barton chuckled, "Any plans for today?" Clint wrapped his arms around Phil's middle, resting his chin on the older agent's shoulder.
"I don't know, we can stay here or spend some time in the wood. We have a few hours before we meet with George and Josie." Phil leaned into the embrace.
"I'd love to watch some T.V."
Phil gave Clint a funny look.
"I like cuddling with you in front of the television," the archer shrugged.
"What's going through your mind?"
Clint placed a kiss behind Phil's ear.
"Ah, okay." Phil felt bad for triggering old memories. That had been the beginning of their body contact ritual in front of the television. First they just sat close together, then they leaned against each other and after a while Clint rested his head on Phil's lap while Coulson stroke through the archer's hair.
"I love that we don't need words to understand each other," Clint said happily.
Phil grinned, "It's a great convenience."
"It is," Barton let go of Phil and took a seat.
They ate in comfortable silence and spent a lot of time in each other's arms while they watched T.V. afterwards.
"Nervous?" Phil asked while he drove.
"A little."
"She's a nice person just like George." It surprised Phil on every occasion that meeting new people made Clint so nervous. The archer seemed self-confident and proud of his laid-back attitude. Phil had needed a long time to figure out that it was one of Barton's many masks.
The truth was that Barton was a scared child at heart.
Clint took a deep breath, seeing the sign of George's club."I hate that."
"I know," Phil stopped the car. "Come," he offered Clint his hand.
Clint took the hand and followed his handler inside. "Phil," an elderly woman flung herself at Couslon with a happy smile on her face.
"Josie," Phil didn't let go of Clint's hand and embraced her with one arm.
"Is that Clint?" She eyed the younger man. "He's pretty."
"I know." It was hard not to grin like a maniac.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am."
"Oh, so polite. He's awesome. Please, call me Josie." She patted Clint on the arm, not sure if a hug was appreciated.
Clint wondered how Phil managed not to explode with all the pride he was feeling. "Nice to meet you, Josie." He gave her his best drop-dead smile.
She blushed furiously, "Oh my, he's a sweetheart. Coulson you're one hell of a lucky bastard."
"Yep, life is pretty awesome."
Josie laughed, she had never seen Phil so relaxed and happy. The young man was obviously good for him, "George, two beer for our boys."
Most guests stared at them. The gossip about these men spread like a wild fire.
"How are the kids?" Phil joined George at the bar, followed by Josie and Clint.
"Fine," Josie replied. "The baby is cute and healthy."
"I'm very pleased to hear that."
"So Clint," Josie was very interested in Clint. "Tell me something about you."
"There's nothing much to say," he shrugged. "I work with Phil and we finally managed to take the next step."
"What about your family?"
"I'm an orphan. My job and Phil is all I have in this world."
Josie's expression darkened, "Have you at least good memories?"
"No." He nursed his bottle.
"Phil, take good care of him or I'll kick your ass."
"Don't worry," Phil put an arm around Clint. "I made his safety my business a long time ago."
"He does a very good job," the archer confirmed.
"Good," she decided to grill Phil for information the next time she wrote him a letter. Writing letters grew into a habit over the years.
"I heard about your little show two days ago," she changed the topic.
"Bored kids," Clint shook his head.
"True," she confirmed. "They are in jail right now. Sheriff Dexter says they're lucky nobody got hurt or else Judge Michaels would have send them to prison for a very long time."
"You're not soldiers," George whispered. "You must be part of a special unit."
"We are." Phil held George's gaze.
"We are the best." Clint was proud of the fact.
"I believe that," it was strange to see what a man Coulson had become. The angry young man became a calm and skilled soldier.
"Be careful, okay?" Josie didn't like dangerous jobs.
"As best we can," Clint promised.
Josie frowned as Clint turned his head, there was a prominent scar visible on his neck. She reached out and pulled the collar of Clint's shirt down without warning. The scar was huge and not very old. Months maybe, not years.
"Dear god," George's eyes widened.
"A knife," Clint stated. Gesticulating with his hand, not sure what else to say.
"Knife?" She gasped, who the hell put a knife into another humans neck?
"It's a miracle he survived," Phil said sadly. Clint could feel his lover's sadness.
"How?"
"Classified." Phil and Clint said in unison.
Josie and George looked at each other for a moment, communicating without words.
Josie traced the line of the scar with her fingertips. She tried to imagine how that must have felt like.
"One good thing came out of it though. I was bleeding out in Phil's arms and we finally confessed our love," the gentle smile on Clint's face took them by surprise.
Phil mirrored the smile, "I'd have preferred a less scary way to approach the unresolved 'tension' between us."
"Less pain would have been nice, that's true."
"Let's return to a nice topic okay?" They sent a shiver down George's spine. Special unit, my ass. They are by far more.
"How did you meet?" Josie was sure that was a safe topic.
"Bleeding out in his arms." The unnerving smile on the kids face returned.
"Uhm," she should have seen that coming. "Sounds like a lot of scars."
"We have our fair share," Phil rubbed unconsciously over the left side of his ribcage.
"Julian called this morning. His wife is pregnant again." George decided that talking about his own life was the only safe way to avoid gory stories.
"More grandchildren?" Phil beamed, "You can open up a soccer team in a few years."
"Great isn't it?" She loved her family.
"It's awesome," Clint cheered. "I think you're great grandparents."
"Thank you," she felt honored. The kid would be a great grandson or son. It was a shame that Clint wasn't part of her family.
"Hey Phil," Chris approached them. He liked the new Coulson. He was strong and certainly rich.
"Chris," Phil greeted without joy.
"I thought you left."
"We leave in a few hours."
Chris sat down next to Phil, brushing his arm against Phil's side.
Clint's eyes narrowed, "What do you want?"
"I want to talk," Chris smiled friendly. But his gaze was challenging.
"Chris," George warned.
"What?"
"Stay away from him," Barton glared. Scaring everyone but Chris.
Josie swallowed hard, the young man was indeed dangerous. "You should leave."
"First I want to talk, or does your watchdog decide with whom you're talking?"
"Normally I decide with whom he talks."
Chris eyes widened in surprise, "Funny. So tell me something about you, we haven't seen each other for ages and our last talk wasn't very informative."
"That's because I have no interest in a conversation with you," Phil used his agent tone of voice.
"After all we had?"
"What did we have? We had sex, that's all it was."
"The sex was great."
"I had better," Phil deadpanned. Josie chuckled.
"Sure," he mocked. "My reputation states that I'm a good catch, if you know what I mean."
"Maybe you have picked up a few skill over the years." Phil suppressed a shiver at the anger Clint was broadcasting. He wasn't jealous about their past relationship, just angry and annoyed.
Barton got up, "Leave him alone. You had your chance and blew it, now it's my turn and I don't intend to screw it up."
Chris got up too, "Scared I could win him back?"
"No," Clint laughed humorless. "You don't stand a chance. But I'm getting angry."
"Chris, piss off," Phil ordered.
The man realized that the damn blond was right. Coulson would never be his again.
"Then keep the old geezer." Chris huffed and turned around to leave, "Have fun with your sugar daddy."
Clint grabbed a knife from the plate next to Josie and threw it at Chris. Nailing Chris's sleeve tight to the doorframe of the exit.
Chris paled visibly, a fork that nailed his shoelace to the ground caused him almost an heart attack.
The bar was dead silent, they watched in awe as the cutlery flew in Chris's direction with more precision than they had ever seen.
"Stay away from us or I will nail your arm onto the wall the next time I see you." Clint threatened.
Chris nodded, pulling out the knife and fork before he fled.
"That was..." George struggled for words.
"I was a circus artist before I joined Phil's organization," the archer shrugged nonchalantly. Phil sighed, "Poser."
"Nope, highly skilled."
The Agent laughed, loud and honest. "Smartass."
"You love me that way." That was a fact.
"True," he pulled Clint into a heated kiss.
"I dare to say I'm glad to be a friend," George could imagine vividly how getting on their bad side would end.
"Believe me, he's harmless. Mostly."
"Compared to you? Yes."
Josie buried her face into her hands, "What have we gotten ourselves into."
The cute young Philip was probably a deadly assassin with deadlier skills than his lover.
That was hard to believe but still waters run deep.
She loved them anyway.