Malaysia was boring, he had to spend all day in an overheated conference room and there was not a single person he liked, or could tolerate after hours.
Phil spent his nights alone in his room, his only companion was the big flat screen T.V.
It was so silent without his favorite troublemaker that his T.V. was practically running all night to drown out the deafening silence.
He missed Clint's soft chatter, his breathing next to him and he even missed his temper tantrums.
The Agent jerked as his phone rang next to him, "Coulson?"
"Hey," Clint said gently. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Phil felt his loneliness fade until it disappeared.
"Doesn't feel that way." His archer sounded insecure.
"I'm fine, really," Coulson closed his eyes and smiled.
"Something is wrong," Clint wasn't sure how to approach the subject.
"I'm bored, and I miss you." There was silence on the other end, Phil rubbed his forehead, not again.
"Don't be annoyed, please." Clint was just struggling for words. He didn't want to fuck up again.
"Why do you call?" Phil asked harsher than he intended to.
"Good night Phil," Clint said gently before he hung up.
"Clint?" Phil eyed his phone in surprise. "Stupid, Phil, stupid."
He dialed Clint's number but it wasn't Barton who picked up.
"Natasha?"
"Sir, we can't talk right now."
"Why not? He called a minute ago."
"The mark is approaching, we have to move. Call you later, sir. Oh and sir?! He's worried that's the reason he called," she said before she ended the call.
"Of course he's worried," Phil muttered. "He's always worried whenever I feel unwell."
Coulson switched off the light and lay down. He turned off the T.V. for the first time since he checked into his room. The noise distracted him from listening to the bond.
Clint was high on adrenalin, agitated and his senses were sharp. Phil knew exactly what Clint was doing, he was watching his target, seizing an opportunity. Calm, Phil thought, he's drawing his arrow,..., letting it fly.
Coulson sat up like a flash, eyes wide and breath heavy. He placed a hand above his heart, surprise and pain, that's not alright.
"The mission went south," Phil searched his phone, dialing Nick's number.
Clint's emotions got more and more frantic.
"What happened?"
Nick wasn't surprised to hear his agent's voice, before he even got a chance to say hello. "I call you once the shit is over," Fury made it sound like an order.
"Yes, sir." Phil swallowed hard, sometimes he hated being a model agent.
He paced up and down his room, not able to sleep. He couldn't sleep that night.
His lover's feelings were fucked up, changing from anger to fear and then back to anger, mixed with annoyance and pain.
Phil had a hard time the next morning to keep his cool demeanor upright and attend the meeting. He almost didn't recognize his own reflection in the mirror that morning.
He was pale, dark circles under his eyes and worry deeply attached to his face.
"Are you alright?" A young woman took a seat next to him without asking. He hoped to spend his lunch break alone with his thoughts.
She was a the secretary of a diplomat from a country he couldn't remember. She was slender and handsome, with dark hair and pretty brown eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine." He lied, giving a damn if the lie was obvious or not.
"I don't think so," she smiled gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, it's private." He continued to poke his food.
"Trouble with your wife?" She liked him and was fishing for information.
"Something like that," he was too busy worrying about Clint that he didn't realize that she was flirting with him.
"We could go out for a drink tonight and forget about the things that bother us."
"I just need a good night's sleep," he was still waiting for Nick's call.
"I could come over and keep you company."
Phil gave her a funny look, "I-,..." his phone buzzed. "Coulson?"
All the lines of worry on his handsome face faded at once, "How are you?"
"Nothing serious but Nat broke her arm."
Phil sighed with relief, "Where are you?"
"Medial," he said barely audible.
"Medical? You said it wasn't serious!"
"It isn't, the keep me to make sure I'm okay."
"Be honest with me," Phil's tone softened.
"A mild concussion. A goon hit me over the head while I checked Nat for injuries."
"That's all?"
"I'm fine, sir."
Phil couldn't figure out the meaning behind the 'sir'. Was it his usual endearment or did they make one step back again? "Okay," the agent nodded to himself.
"Are you okay?" The woman put a hand on top of Phil's hand, squeezing it gently.
Phil had forgotten she was still there. He winced inwardly for the sense of shame he was feeling while she touched him.
"Phil," Clint's voice was so vulnerable it made Phil feel very unwell, "who is she?"
"She's the secretary of a diplomat, we met during lunch."
"Is that all?" Clint was scared that Phil decided to throw him away.
"Yes, love. That's all. Sorry about that," he was referring to the bond, "You know how oblivious I can be." He sent his love to Clint to destroy his fears of being replaced.
"I know," there was amusement in Clint's voice this time. "She could probably perform a lap-dance and you wouldn't notice."
"I'm not that oblivious."
She stared at Phil, she wasn't used to getting ignored. It was a big surprise.
"I put an arrow through her favorite pair of pumps should she try something funny."
"I can defend my own honor." Phil sighed dramatically, "stop laughing."
"Sorry, sir." Now the endearment was clearly audible.
"Love you too. Get some rest okay? And leave them be. Don't play dumb, I will hear about your pranks on our medical stuff once I'm home."
"Good night Phil. I love you."
"I have a few hours left before I can call it a day but I think I'll sleep well. I'm coming home soon, okay?"
"Okay," he missed his handler deeply.
Phil ended the call, staring at his phone for a long moment before he dug into his food with glee. That went well.
"Your wife?" She glared daggers at him.
"Fiancé. He got hurt at work today." He gave her more information than necessary just to see the expression on her face at the word 'he'. Coulson was in a playful mood.
"He? Really?" Her eyes went wide, "how does he look like?" She put her elbows on the table and rested her head on her head on her hands, truly interested in Coulson's private life. Jealousy forgotten.
Phil frowned.
"Come on, I don't meet really hot gay guys every day." She beamed, "Is he as hot as you are?"
He blushed, "He's younger by nine years, not too tall, blue eyes, blond and broad. He's by far prettier than I am."
Phil disliked her grin, it wasn't dangerous but downright naughty.
"I love gay romances."
Phil cringed, great now she'll write a story about us or something. Clint will never let me live that down. He'll have field day with it.
"I envy you," her expression changed.
"Why?"
"You seem happy and he way your eyes light up when you talk about him is awesome. I want that too."
"You'll find the right one but I don't think that's the right place." He spread his arms to emphasize his words.
"Where did you meet him?"
"I'm his boss."
"You're his boss? Does that work?"
"Yes, we are able to separate private from work."
"My boss cheats on his wife," she whispered. "He's not a good guy."
"Look somewhere else. Is it necessary that he's the high-ranking one in your relationship?"
She looked thoughtful, "No, I can be higher in rank. But in the end it doesn't matter at all, right?"
"No, it doesn't. You have to be equals at home."
"I was poor when I was a kid. I worked hard to be where I am. I'm scared to lose that."
"Does all your money make you happy?"
"What?" She looked surprised at the question.
"Your money doesn't love you."
"It's important thought."
"It is, it keeps you fed and warm but humans need more than that. Don't get me wrong I love my job and the paycheck but I'm ready to give it all up for him because he keeps me warm from within." He placed a hand above his heart, "you have to choose what's more important. Money or love, and in the end you might get both."
"Did you get both?" She asked even though she already had an answer to her question.
"Money was never my top priority. Keeping people safe is, and yes I have both of it. I'm happy the way it is."
"I'm glad to hear that," she smiled again. The man was strange in her opinion. He wormed his way into her soul within half an hour just because he is who he is. Honest and modest in a loveable way. she was sure he ruled his life and not the other way around.
Maybe, she too, could form her own destiny instead of waiting for life to push her in the right direction. She sighed deeply, "tell me about him. What makes him the one, your Mr. Right?"
Phil's eyes lit up again as he began to talk about his archer.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"You lied to him," Natasha glared at him. "Just a mild concussion? Come on, the concussion is your smallest problem right now."
"He's thousands of miles away. I don't want him to worry about me more than necessary while he handles all the paper-pushers."
"He'll find out about it once he returns," she pointed out.
"I know he will but he will be home by then," he wanted nothing more than to have his handler back.
She stared at her cast for a moment, "He will be angry."
"I'll deal with it when the time comes," he shifted slightly. A bullet took a chunk out of his side the moment he reached Nat's still form. For a frightening moment he thought she was dead. Losing Natasha was a horrible thought.
"How is he?"
"Oblivious like always. Someone flirted with him and he didn't notice at first." Phil could be adorable, Clint knew without the help of their bond he would have jumped on the next plane to Malaysia just to strangle that girl. Dumping her corpse in the next river, never to be found.
"Because you're constantly in his mind 24/7 and I don't mean the bond." Her friends shared something special, something she wanted to experience herself so desperately.
Clint blushed, "you think so?"
"Of course," she gave him a you-know-the-answer look. "He adores you so much it's almost sickening. I think Deuce's attack is the best proof. The nurses tiptoed around him as he would break at the slightest vibration. Even the doctors let him be, not ordering to rest and no one in his right mind dared to force him to leave."
"He left to see the investigators," to risk his job, his dreams and life's work.
"I watched parts of the security tape," she smirked. "He was pissed and knew exactly what he wanted. He didn't do it what he did because he was too tired or agitated to think straight. He did it because you're his top priority. To tell the truth, I'm jealous."
"We will find someone for you too," Clint promised. "You'll see one day he just, ..., appears out of nowhere turning your life upside down."
"Was it that way with Phil?" She heard from Phil about it but never from Clint. It seemed as if he was scared that once he talked about it his current life would turn into a dream and shatter.
"He dragged one of his agents to safety. I shot a gunman who aimed at Phil. I got shot too and suddenly,..., he was there. Hovering over me, without knowing who I am. I was a random guy who got caught in the crossfire, but he cared. That was the first time in my fucking life that someone cared. It was the first time I felt like I was worth something. He makes me feel that way every day since we officially met." Clint smiled at the memory, "and then you entered my life. Being the sister I never had. Being the sibling I always wished for. You make my world even more whole. More complete. You're family, the only family I would describe as such. You, Nick and Phil are my world. I can't and don't want to imagine my life without you."
"You're my world, too." She made it sound like a statement. She hated talking about her feelings. She wasn't used to the fact that someone cared about what she was feeling. No that wasn't true not anymore. Clint cared and so did Phil.
She wasn't a nobody, one of many nameless spies. She was Natasha Romanoff, friend of Clint Barton and protégé of Phil Coulson.
"I know," Clint directed a gentle look at her.
"So, how long do they keep you?" She changed the topic.
"Two days," he begged Nick not to tell Phil anything about his brush with death.
"How long will he be away?"
"I don't know, he'll give me a call."
She nodded, "Time for you to get some rest. The nurse should be on her way to give you more of the good stuff."
He couldn't hide anything from her, he'd thought he hid his sleepiness well but obviously not, "See you later, Nat."
"See you later," she kissed his forehead before she left to get some rest herself. It had been a very long day.
:::::::::::::::::::::::
Phil had to put up with the paper-pushers for three more days before he could sent the message they longed for.
He waited for his luggage, tapping impatiently with one foot. He wanted nothing more than to enclose Clint in his arms.
Phil almost let out a sigh of relief the moment he spotted his luggage.
He hurried into the main hall, not noticing that Clint was creeping up on him shortly after he entered the huge hall.
"Hey handsome, need a ride?" Clint asked cheerfully.
"Hmm, I'm not sure. I'm waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up, but it seems he couldn't make it."
"Such a shame," Clint chuckled. "I missed you."
"Missed you too," Phil took Clint into his arms, signaling that they were alright. Fight forgotten.
"Let's go home," Clint took Phil's hand and led him to the car.
The ride was silent but not uncomfortable. Phil dozed off shortly after they left the parking lot.
"Wake up. We're home," Clint shook him gently.
"I'm so darn tired, I hate sitting on my ass for a week."
"It's still pretty," the archer smirked. Staring shamelessly at his lover's butt.
"What?"
"Your ass," Clint clarified. "You must be really tired."
"I am," Phil unlocked the door of the apartment. "Smells nice."
"I hope so," Clint took Phil's bag and carried it into their bedroom.
Phil got rid of his jacket and tie on the way to the kitchen. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
"Go, take a shower while I take care of our dinner."
Phil nodded and hurried to the bathroom, taking a long and hot shower. Feeling his muscles relax under the hot spray.
"Are you alright?" Clint knocked after a while.
"I'm fine, give me five more minutes."
"Take all the time you need," he returned to the kitchen. Phil was true to his word and showed up five minutes later.
He stopped in the doorway, soaking in the scene in front of him. The table was set, the room illuminated by candles, his best tablecloth graced the table while homemade food covered the fine fabric.
"Sit down," Clint said with a hint of insecurity.
"It's beautiful. What have I done to deserve this?"
"You exist." Was all Clint had to say on the matter.
Phil put down the tableware he picked up seconds ago, sighing deeply. The love in his chest was almost suffocating. It felt strange to be loved that way. To be as important as the air to breath. To make someone so happy he was on seventh heaven. To have the power to destroy a life with his bare hands. "So we're good?"
"Yeah, we're good." Clint smiled, sitting down. "You say what I did is okay, so it is okay."
"You don't say it to make me feel better, right?" Phil eyed him carefully.
"No, I say it because I can trust you to never lie to me." Natasha was right, Clint had nothing to be sorry about. Aside from his brother's death.
"You talked to Natasha," it was alright that Clint sought help by his best friend. They all had issues and needed friends at times.
"I did. She made me realize how stupid I behaved. I'm sorry Phil."
"You had every right to feel that way. I mean you killed your brother, you hurt me. I think I was too harsh with you. We both made mistakes and the combination of our coping styles led us to our fall-out." It wasn't Clint's fault alone neither was it Phil's. Both of them made decisions they regretted, they said things they shouldn't have said at all but what was done was done. There was no going back.
"That's why I love you," Clint said fondly while he snatched Phil's plate to fill it with food. "The way you think is efficient and plausible."
"Thank you," Phil took the plate Clint offered. It smelled and looked absolutely delicious, Clint was a great cook. "I have a lot of experience." He started to eat, "but I still have a lot to learn." Phil added after he swallowed a tender piece of beef steak.
"We both have a lot to learn about relationships," Clint ate vegetables, fried in butter.
"We do. And I'm ready to learn for the rest of my life if I have to."
"Me too."
"Good," Phil brushed his leg against Clint's under the table to feel closer to his lover.
They ate in silence for a long time, communicating via their bond and body language.
Clint ushered Phil out of the kitchen after dinner. His lover needed sleep more than anything right now and it gave Clint more time to hide his wound.
After washing the dishes and putting away leftovers he joined Phil in the bedroom.
To his surprise Phil didn't sleep, he sat with his back against the headboard and seemed to wait for him.
"Can't you sleep?" Clint took of his jeans before he walked into the bathroom, which was connected to the bedroom, to brush his teeth.
"Something is bothering you again, and I'm not as tired as I was before our dinner." Phil said louder to drown out the running water.
"You need your sleep, you're so cranky in the morning without at least six hours of sleep." The archer spit out the toothpaste and washed his face to get rid of the sweaty feeling. He wasn't cleared for duty yet and didn't feel well but he put up a great act in front of Phil. It surprised him that he fooled the older man for so long but the time to confess had come. Phil would be more angry if he had to find out on his own, a confession would hurt him less. At least Clint hoped that would be the case.
"Clint?" Phil switched off the light and settled down, waiting for his beloved archer.
"Phil, I have to tell you something. It has nothing to do with our dinner, I meant every word I said and it's independent from my decision to cook for you, just so you know," Clint sat down on the edge of their bed.
"What happened?" Phil was alert and ready to switch into his agent mode if he had to.
"I wasn't one hundred percent honest when I said I had a mild concussion." He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Phil to shout or go all agent on him.
"You didn't have a concussion?" He tried to keep calm, he could feel how hard it was for Clint to confess.
"I did that was not a lie."
Phil crawled closer to Clint and put his arms around him, pulling him close to his chest. "Tell me."
"I want you to know that I thought it best not to worry you while you where thousands of miles away from home. I thought it might border motional torture if I tell you all."
Phil shifted his position and pushed Clint down onto the mattress, straddling him. "Do I have to search for more injuries?"
He could see Clint nod in the dim moonlight that shone through the curtains. Phil switched on the light, looking deep into Clint's eyes. The hint of fear in them felt like a step backwards in their relationship but his mind knew better. It was Clint's upbringing and experiences that brought the look to his eyes every time his archer feared a quarrel.
Phil kissed Clint lovingly, he wasn't angry. A little disappointed maybe but not angry. He understood Clint's reasoning and had nothing to say against it.
He let his hands roam over Clint's body, searching for bandages or the likes. His hand stopped over Clint's right side. Phil lifted up his lover's shirt to reveal a large gauze bandage, "What happened?"
"It's a flesh wound, a bullet hit me while I tried to help Natasha. I was a little unfocused because, for a moment, I thought she was dead. I got hit over the head because Natasha and the wound slowed me down."
"More injuries I should know about?" Phil tried to picture the cluster-fuck of a mission. Seeing Clint and Black Widow bleeding out in front of his mind eyes sent a shiver down his spine.
"I said the truth about her breaking her arm, it's the only injury she has apart from a bruise on the left side of her collarbone." Clint felt a huge sense of relief which was just partly his own. "I'm glad you're not angry with me."
"Just don't do it again, okay?"
"I promise," Clint put his arms around Phil, pulling him into a heated kiss. Phil's hands on his skin made him horny.
"You should rest," Phil panted heavily after they parted.
"I want you," Clint licked the corner of Phil's mouth, wandering to his neck, and from there down to his shoulder.
"Leave the work to me," Phil felt himself harden. He loved Clint's hot breath against his skin.
Coulson kissed his archer again while his hand wandered down to his groin. He smiled into the kiss as he realized that Clint was already hard, aching for him.
Phil kissed and licked his way down Clint's heated body, "tell me what you want."
Clint's back arched as Phil took him into his mouth, sucking hard while his tongue caressed his shaft and glans. "I want you, Phil, sir."
Phil released his lover's cock to search for the lube in the nightstand. "Are you really up to it?" He wasn't sure he could stop now but for Clint's sake he had to make sure it was alright to go all the way that night.
"Always," Barton smirked, wiggling his hip. "Come on, sir." He begged.
Phil prepared his lover slowly and with care, playing rough was not an option. Not as long Clint had stitches in him. The docs would kill him for reopening Barton's stitches during sex.
"I love you," Phil captured Clint's swollen lips while he pushed himself inside his young fiancé. Clint's moan was so sweet he could almost taste his longing.
"I'm ready," Clint panted, "you can move."
Phil did as he was told and it didn't take long for them to find release. Their orgasm was hard and Clint felt high like a kite for a moment, while Phil fought not to pass out from exhaustion and satisfaction.
Clint let out a soft gasp as Phil pulled out, "I get a towel." The archer got up and returned with a wet towel, cleaning his older lover so he could go to sleep without taking a shower immediately. Phil slung himself around Clint after he returned to bed, "I love you."
Clint smiled, they were still naked and hearing his lover say that while they cuddled made him feel warm all over.
Phil took Clint's hand into his own and placed it on the archer's belly before he let go for a moment, his head rested on the archer's chest and he couldn't see his lover's reaction but he could hear his heart beat and breathing. Phil had used the chance to get the wedding band while Clint got a towel. He rolled the ring between his thumb and index finger, in front of Clint's face before he interpreted the lack of resistance as a 'yes'. He put the ring on its rightful place without Clint's objection. To tell the truth he didn't react at all, he just stared at the ring, following every move with his eyes. His breath hitched barely noticeable the moment the ring was where it belong.
"Next month?" Phil asked hopefully. They lost enough time due to their issues and stupidity. It was time to act, without planning ten steps ahead.
"Can I ask Natasha to be my witness?" Clint continued to stare at the ring. It was final. He was officially Coulson's. Not that it was a bad thing, it just made it more real.
"If I can have Nick," Phil smiled lovingly. Placing a kiss on Clint's chest.
"Do you have family you want to invite?"
"My aunt is too sick to attend, I'm surprised she made it this far." He waiting for the dreaded call for two years now. The doctor telling him that she passed on. "I could ask my sister."
"You have a sister?" Clint's gasped in surprise.
"She grew up with my uncle. He's very rich and not modest at all. She likes money and her upper-class world. I love my aunt, I chose love above money."
"Sounds kind of sad. When was the last time you saw her?"
"I don't know, she wrote a card six years ago to tell me about my niece. I think I have seen her in person around ten years ago. At our cousin's funeral. He died in an accident. He was drunk and drove his car right into tree."
"That's awful," Clint felt sad on Phil's behalf.
"I met him once, he was a stranger even though he was part of the family. I wasn't sad. Sure, I was sad that one more life had been wasted but I wasn't emotionally devastated or something.
"We can invite her and send your aunt a video or life-streaming," Clint mused. There must be a way that his aunt could participate even though she was too sick to travel.
"We will see," Phil tilted his head back and kissed Clint's temple. "We should sleep. We can continue our talk after we slept."
"I like your plan," Clint yawned. "I'm looking forward to our marriage," he added sleepily.
"Me, too." Phil watched his lover fall asleep before he congratulated himself for reaching his goals. Clint was back in his bed and they would marry soon. His life was back to normal and he loved every minute of it.