The next two months passed by in a blur. Clint got cleared for duty, with the order to take it easy, and Phil had taken him out on dates every other night. His life felt like a dream. He was still living together with Phil in his apartment. Tony offered him his old room but he declined. Clint wanted to use the chance to live with Phil as long as possible. Even if it was just for a week, a month or a year. They postponed their wedding due to Clint's poor health and Phil's busy schedule after returning to work. They decided to marry on the first anniversary of their new life together. Phil vetoed against the day Clint got shot so they chose the day Clint woke up for the first time after the incident. Coulson had to admit that Clint had been right when he assumed that they needed more time to get to know each other again. Sure Clint was still convinced that he would screw up before they exchanged rings and vows but Phil didn't give it much thought. He knew his archer, at least he hoped he still does, and that was enough for him to believe that he could change the younger man's opinion during the next year.

Phil had no illusions about the fragility of their relationship. It was a hard piece of work. But the possible outcome in case they succeed was way too promising to just give up on trying. They had dreams. Both of them let many dreams and opportunities pass by in their life.

A life together was too precious to let it go. That was one of the topics they agreed on. They had many differences, they always had but they had too much respect for each other to let them interfere with their relationship.

"Stop fretting about it," Clint put his gear on. It was his first mission after his doc cleared him for active duty and Coulson was more than concerned.

"We should look at the plan again, considering different angles, you know."

"We did that thrice this morning and twice yesterday. We gathered all information we could and we looked at it every possible way." Clint fastened the last buckle on his vest. He approached his worrying lover and put his arms around him. "It isn't like you. Not to this degree."

Phil relaxed against his lover, "I don't know."

"It's not our first mission together since our brake up."

"Yeah, the last few years I did not care if you died or not." He felt Clint flinch.

"We had the time before all went south," Clint said softly. "You didn't worry so much either."

Phil could feel the pressure he put Clint under. The archer was waiting for an emotional blow. "We knew each other. I feel like it's our first mission together just that you're not a recruit anymore but my lover."

"And you say I'm hard to understand," he kissed Phil's neck. "My working style did not change and as far as I know yours neither. We can be the team we used to be."

"You have to make your peace with Natasha first," Phil knew Clint meant their working relationship and not the whole team but it was time for the archer to pick up the pieces he left behind.

"I don't know how," he knew she was there when he was at the hospital but she stayed outside of the room. He had seen her two times afterwards.

"She's your sister by choice; it should be easy to fix your differences. Believe me when I say I know she wants to fix the mess as much as you want to."

Clint inhaled deeply; Phil's smell was intoxicating and soothing. "Okay."

"I'm glad," Phil missed his little dysfunctional family.

"You have to fix your friendship with Jasper too." Clint knew how much Phil loved Jasper. He was more like a brother than a friend and it must burn a hole into Phil's heart to know that his lover was the reason they couldn't continue being friends. Barton was secretly glad that Phil chose his love for Clint over his brotherhood with Sitwell.

"It's different," Phil argued and made it clear that he did not want to talk about it.

Clint nodded, "Let's go then." He turned around and left, with the intention to fix the problem for Phil. Coulson and Sitwell were friends and nothing should come between them, not even Clint himself.

The mission was long but went smoothly. Clint was as awesome as ever and didn't get a single scratch. Tony on the other hand was less lucky and got caught inside his armor as Juggernaut ran him over, bending the metal. Stark broke his wrist and got some bruises. Tony's sour mood eased pretty fast as Cap volunteered to care for him.

The relief was clearly visible on Coulson's face after the back up team took Juggernaut into custody. He had feared for his lover's life and it took a lot of discipline not to interfere. It was unprofessional, he knew, but he couldn't help it. They got hurt a lot of times over the years but Loki and Johnson made him think. He had nothing else to do while he was trapped in medical and the same applied to the time he spent in medical with Clint. Time was too precious to waste and Coulson had realized that he'd wasted a lot of time in his life. The hard truth was that they weren't immortal, no matter how much luck Clint had, no matter how smart Phil was; there were much smarter and much luckier people out there. Waiting for a chance to eliminate them. Of course Clint was smart too but he got out of situations, no one had ever thought possible, with his life and luck was the only word Phil could think of to describe his brushes with death.

Phil had neglected his family during his time in the army and one day his parents were gone. He had neglected his first, possibly, serious relationship after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. and had to watch his lover walk away, right into the arms of someone else. His brother had died one year after in a car crash and Phil heard about it after the funeral, because he was stuck in Budapest at the time. He missed his nieces first days at school, their first boyfriends and he never met their new stepdad in person. Phil couldn't remember the last time he went home for the holidays.

Thomas, one of his flings during their time apart, had said that Phil was married to his job and assets. He said that he prayed not to become like Phil. Thomas was an agent, level 5, and Phil thought he might understand the importance of their duty. Obviously he didn't. No one ever did but Clint, and his friends. Coulson had to admit that Thomas was right. Nothing was more important than family. His family should have been his top priority and then his job. He was not the only agent out there. If he's busy someone else could save the day but no one would step in and take his role as protector of his family.

Phil decided not to make the same mistakes again. The world could go to hell for all he cared.

"Stop thinking so hard," Clint appeared by his side. "We did well."

"True but there were a few flaws in our plan," they weren't supposed to start a fight in the middle of the small town. "Fury will get a heart attack when he sees the bill."

"Tony is fine, as well as he can be after his tussle with Juggernaut. Cap is fine, Natasha is unhurt; what else do you want?" He knew it wasn't about the destruction of cars and the kiosk.

"A life," he muttered and walked away to join Woo.

Clint watched him go, too stunned to react. What does that mean? He racked his brain for hours, not paying attention to his team and fellow agents. He just hmm-ed and nodded once in a while. They could have asked if he would strip for Pepper and he would have agreed.

Natasha was worried by his lack of interest and gathered all her courage with the intention to approach him. Sometimes it was way harder to face your own family and friends than the worst villain.

"Hawkeye we need to talk," she dragged him into an abandoned conference room. "What's eating at you?"

Clint blinked, was it truly that easy? He knew what she was offering and just had to take it.

"Something Phil said made me think," he replied after a long minute of silence. He could see the relief in her eyes the moment he gave her an honest answer.

"Is it bad?" She fidgeted, Clint realized. The Black Widow did not fidget. She must be as nervous as he was.

Clint explained the situation and told her about his own theories as a peace offering.

"Sounds like he's tired of being an agent," she agreed with Clint and his theories. None of them thought Phil would retire any time soon but he was unsatisfied with his life.

"Yeah," Clint sighed, leaning back in the chair he occupied.

Natasha pushed her chair closer to Clint's, brushing her shoulder against his.

"I'm sorry Nat. It's not much but it's all I can offer."

"I'm sorry too," was all she said before they fell silent again.

"I miss you," Clint struggled to get his words out. After all he had done 'sorry' and 'I miss you' were sounding lame.

"Don't leave again," it was a warning and a 'me too'. "I meet with Quartermain tonight."

It was an invitation and Clint was thankful, "I'll meet you there. O'Malley's around six?"

She smirked, "You remember." It was evidence that Barton did care.

He interpreted it as a 'yes', "I have to go."

"What are you plotting?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Don't worry," it pained him to see that he lost her trust. "I'm hunting down our dear Sitwell."

"Why?"

"My relationship with Phil is not to his liking…, they stopped being friends because of me and I can't watch it any longer. I have to fix it."

"Let me know if you need help," she got up and placed a gentle kiss on top of Clint's head. "Welcome home."

She vanished, not giving him the option to reply.

:::::::::::::::

Clint found Sitwell in the park close to HQ. He sat on a bench with his lunch in hand. Clint smiled at Jasper's unhealthy chicken-sandwich addiction.

"What do you want?" Jasper tried to get up but Barton's strong hand on his shoulder kept him in place.

"I want to talk," he removed his hand from Jasper's shoulder and sat down next to him.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"That's a lie."

"You want to talk; then talk," Sitwell glared.

"Phil needs you," Clint stated, waiting for Jasper's reaction.

"He does not," he spat.

"He does, he just needs me too and for some reason he feels like he has to choose."

Sitwell snorted.

"I know what you think about me and you're probably right but I love Phil, a lot. I will remain by his side as long as he wants me to; it's a fact you have to accept. We love each other and we can go on the way our life is right now, but that's not what we want. Phil loves you, like a brother, and he misses you terribly."

"What exactly do you want?"

"Tolerate me and be his friend."

"Why should I tolerate you? You'll most likely destroy him for good. I can't tolerate that."

"You're his friend, not mine. We don't have to get along. Important is that Phil needs a life beyond S.H.I.E.L.D., he needs friends and people he can talk to. He needs fun. All I can give him is my love."

"Sounds like you're not enough to make him happy," Jasper grinned. He aimed to hurt.

Clint's heart clenched, "Life is about so much more than love and friends and fun. It's the combination of all factors that makes our lives worth living."

"So you expect me to ignore your relationship and go on as if nothing ever happened?"

"No, I'm begging you to ignore my existence in Phil's life and be his friend," Clint got up. He had nothing else to say. Now it was on Jasper to make a decision. "Have a nice day, Agent Sitwell, sir."

:::::::::::::

"Where have you been?" Phil looked up from the T.V.

"I sent you a message," Clint shed his jacket and let him-self fall onto the couch.

"You said you meet with Natasha at six. Where have you been the hours between the briefing and your date with Natasha?"

"Are you accusing me of cheating?" Clint's eyes widened.

"No," Phil shook his head with wide eyes. "I'm sorry." He closed his eyes.

"Ah," Clint put an arm around his lover, pulling him against his side. "It's a trust thing."

"It's a trust thing," Phil confirmed. "I can't help it."

"I know," Clint smiled gently. "I have to earn your trust. I know that."

"How's Natasha?"

"We're okay." Clint knew that Phil held contact with Natasha. Whatever she did, he knew exactly what, why and how long.

Phil relaxed, "I'm glad. I was worried she'd stab you."

Clint raised a brow, "so you lied about her readiness to forgive me?"

"No, I just… was not as sure as I sounded."

Clint huffed, "you learned to lie during my absence."

"I'm still not good at it. But a little more used to it."

"Why?"

"Because of my unhappiness. The aftermath of our breakup rose questions. Why are you so moody? Are you alright? How was your day? You look tired? Why didn't your brief relationship with Thomas work out?"

"Will you ever lie to me?"

"No," Phil was sure. "Lies could destroy what we have," the message behind his words lingered heavily between them.

"No more lies," Clint lied enough for ten lifetimes. "I'm tired of pretending."

Finally a smile lit up Phil's face, "that came right from your heart." The honesty in Clint's words felt incredible good and sparked the flame of hope. Clint would probably never lie again, at least not about important stuff.

"My heart remained silent for too long," the archer closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel the blush heat his face.

"Romantic," Phil teased before he moved onto Clint's lap. "What do you think about love making and a shower?"

"I'm tired," Clint looked deep into Phil's eyes and could see the frown. They hadn't had sex since they found their way back together. No more lies, Clinton, no more lies…

"Okay," Phil got up and straightened his back. "I'm tired too, good night Clint."

"Phil!"

"If you don't want to touch me just say so." He closed the door to their room, stomping around the room in search for his pajama.

Clint waited a moment and gathered his strength, he wasn't ready but he would probably never be. "Phil?" The light was off and Phil had his back to Clint. "It's not you ... I'm ashamed."

"About what?" He gritted out, "for causing the ugly scar on my chest and back? Or for the scars on yours?"

Clint walked around the bed until he faced his lover; he switched on the light. "My skin was never flawless…, but it's…," he took a deep breath and decided to stop talking. He knew sometimes actions spoke louder than words, so he got rid of his shirt.

Phil sat up and eyed his archer. "This one is new," he let his fingers trace the jagged line of a scar. "And this one. They aren't bad."

Clint turned around and revealed a heavily scarred back.

"How…?" Phil choked out.

"I jumped off a building again. I know I shouldn't have, but it was my only option. I crashed through a window, half way down. I landed in shards and some shards found their way into my vest. I had no time to get rid of them and during the rest of the fight the shards chafed the skin off my back."

Phil reached out to touch the scars but stopped himself. He knew they couldn't hurt anymore but he felt like his touch would cause his lover pain. "They must have hurt."

"Getting shot hurt less," the archer shrugged. He felt uncomfortable and exposed so he put his shirt back on.

"How did you manage to hide them?" I should have noticed them. I didn't pay enough attention. Clint didn't answer, because it wasn't a question directed at him.

"I love you," Phil looked his lover in the eye. "Nothing will change that."

A small smile appeared on Clint's face, "even damaged?"

"You're not damaged Clinton. Not more than any of us," Phil finally touched his archer's back, slipping his hand beneath the fabric of his shirt. Clint's breath hitched. "It's okay, they're part of you. It's okay."

"They're ugly," he squeezed his eyes shut. Every time he saw them in a mirror he wanted to scream; loud enough for Loki to hear.

"Look at me, love," Phil lifted his chin up with a careful motion but Clint kept his eyes closed.

"Please." Phil waited for a moment before he used one of his martial arts tricks and pinned Clint onto the bed. He was careful not to jostle his tender shoulder or cause him pain in some way. His shoulder was mostly alright but it still got a little sore when he put too much strain on it. Four hours on the range early in the morning, for example. Phil stopped lecturing him about possible consequences days ago; he knew Clint wanted his clearance for top class missions. The archer hated kiddy missions, like he called them.

Clint was surprised as he lost his balance and landed on their bed with Phil's heavy weight on top of him. The older man had a firm hold on his wrists, they were positioned on each side of his head. "I said look at me."

Clint opened his eyes, he trusted the older man with his life. There was no need to be scared of his actions.

"Attaboy," Phil looked down at him with a gentle smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

"Just to feel them beneath my fingers freaks me out," he whispered with teary eyes.

"Listen Clinton, and listen carefully," Phil's voice lost some of its gentleness. "I love you the way you are. I don't care about scars, your deafness and your upbringing." He sealed his words with a harsh kiss, "I love you with all my heart. You could have burn marks all over your body for all I care. You're perfect, no matter how you look like. I don't love you for your pretty body, Clinton. I love you because you're you. It's not your skin that defines you."

A few tears escaped the archer's eyes, his lover's gaze changed from determined to heartbreaking gentle within seconds. The look on Phil's face took his breath away. He could feel how his self-hatred lessened.

Phil placed a firm kiss on Clint's forehead, "I love you; the one inside your pretty head."

Clint lifted his head up in hope to catch his lover's lips before his head was out of reach.

The archer was too slow and his movements were still restricted by Phil's firm hold but the older man leaned forward again; granting him the kiss he so desperately needed.

Phil let go of Clint's wrist, he felt a little guilty for restraining him.

Clint used his chance to cup Phil's cheeks between his hands, he was afraid Phil could leave, "I love you too."

Phil's blinding smile caused a funny feeling inside Clint's stomach. It was a sense of bone deep love and belonging, I missed that, "show me I'm still yours."

Phil chuckled, "We can wait." Are you sure?

"I'm sure Phil, it's okay," It was stupid of me to think he'd love me less.

The older man leaned sideward and opened the drawer to get the supplies; dropping them on a pillow afterwards.

"Too many clothes," he grinned cheekily while he threw his shirt away.

Clint huffed, "I can barely move with you on top of me."

"That can be arranged," Phil began kissing Clint's neck, sucking now and then to leave a mark. He pushed Clint's shirt up, his gentle but firm hands roamed over his archer's warm skin, "one more new scar." His fingers ghosted over a small scar close to his sternum. Phil stopped kissing his lover's neck and therefore he focused on the scar, placing a soft kiss on it. "Sit up," Phil remained sitting on his archer's pelvis but granted him enough space to move his upper body. Clint sat up; he struggled a little with getting out of his shirt. His shoulder felt sore and didn't react the way he wanted. In the end it was Phil who freed him from his traitorous shirt.

The older man returned his focus to the scars on Clint's belly, kissing each scar with care.

"I love them. No matter how they look. They're a part of you. And I love all of you."

Clint placed one hand on Phil's head, combing through the soft hair while his lover's kisses sent shivers down his spine, "I adore you Phil. Always have, always will."

Phil smiled against his archer's belly and moved further down. He unbuckled his lover's belt and pulled his pants and underwear down before he spread Clint's legs a little.

"Holy…," Clint gasped as Phil kissed his waist; moving closer to his already excited dick.

Phil chuckled as he took his lover into his mouth; licking along his shaft, sucking and pumping until he was fully erected. "No sex while I wasn't around?" Phil hovered over Clint, kissing him on the lips while one of his hands had a firm hold on his balls. It's okay if you had. I had too. Just be honest.

"Just with my right hand," Clint captured Phil's lip in a searing kiss. I know you had sex with other men. It's okay. He cupped Phil's face in his hands and pulled him closer so he could suck on his neck without straining his shoulder too much. He let his hands stray from his lover's cheeks to his back, caressing the skin for a moment before he cupped his firm ass, pulling their groins closer together. "Come on, I won't break," he stated softly. I can see it in your eyes, love.

Phil looked down at him with delated eyes, "Tell me if it hurts." He grabbed the bottle of lube and coated his fingers before he inserted the first one.

"Geez, I missed that," I missed you, Clint's belly muscles moved from pleasure.

Phil placed the palm of his hand on Clint's firm belly as he inserted the next finger. He loved how his muscles flexed under his hand with excitement. The feeling and the sight never stopped to turn him on, no matter how often they had sex in the past.

"On my knees?" Clint choked out as Phil pressed against his prostate.

"Stay on your back, your shoulder can't take it," I don't want to hurt you, a tiny smirk tugged on Phil's lips as Clint writhed beneath his hand. You're so beautiful. He took the condom and slipped it over his hard penis. "Relax," he settled down between Clint's parted legs and buried himself slowly inside his lover. Damn, he's tight.

Clint's breath hitched.

"Shhh take a breath," he pushed further until he was fully in. "Are you alright?" His tone was gentle and filled with worry.

Clint placed his hands on each side of Phil's waist, digging his nails into his flesh. "Don't worry. I'm ready," you're driving me crazy here.

Phil did as he was told and thrust into his lover, with as much self-control as he could muster.

It felt great to feel his lover writhing beneath him, completely at his mercy.

Clint liked it when Phil was in control, and not just in the bedroom.

The older man kept him grounded and was something like a living compass; pointing the way home whenever he got lost.

He could feel Clint's slick skin against his own, the movements of his muscles, his nails scratching over his back. There you go. Let go, love. Just let go of all that's bothering you.

"Harder Phil," the archer wrapped his legs around Phil's waist to force him deeper into his entrance.

"Eager," Phil panted happily. "I shall grant your wish," he placed a palm against Clint's cheek and with the other hand he supported his own weight before he thrust into him deep and hard.

"Yeah," Clint whimpered. "Just like that. God I love you." I feel so warm inside my chest.

All Phil could hear after that, were Clint's moans with each thrust he made. His archer was out of breath and his lust hazed mind didn't seem to register more than Phil's body against his own. "You're so pretty. Not damaged at all," my precious archer. "I missed you," he nuzzled his lover's neck. It feels so right. Nobody's able to compete with you. You belong to me.

He cried out as Phil hit his prostate with one well aimed thrust. "You're one to talk; you're so god damn lovable. I missed your touches, your warm skin. Your voice." It was exactly how he imagined it in his fantasies during their time apart; gentle, loving, Phil who treasured his broken archer as if he was precious. And he knew, to Phil he was exactly that, precious.

Phil loved hearing these things so he thrust again and again until he could feel Clint tightened around him. It was the first sign that his archer was close. He initiated a loving kiss, "Don't leave ever again." Just look at me, no one else. I can provide all you need.

Clint adored the view of Phil's sweat glistening body above him, the love and lust in his pretty eyes. "Never again. It was stupid of me to think…," he felt loved and connected to Phil. They were one; a unit, moving in synch. "I'm go…," a well-aimed thrust and a bite to the neck cut his sentence short. "Fuck."

"I know, love. I know," Phil placed his palm above Clint's racing heart. You don't have to say it. I know it.

It took three more thrusts for Clint to release his semen between their bellies and two more thrusts for Phil to release inside his panting lover.

The older man slumped down on top of him, gasping for air. Colorful dots were dancing in front of his eyes and his body felt heavy.

He was happy, so incredible happy he couldn't put it into words.

Clint breathed heavily as he wrapped his arms possessively around his lover's torso. "That was…" I feel whole again.

"Yeah," Phil agreed. The missing part of my soul has returned.

"We should shower," Clint stated after a few minutes. I'd hold you forever if I could.

"We should," Phil pulled out very carefully and got rid of the condom. "Come," he offered Clint his hand. Stay with me.

The archer took it with a satisfied smile on his lips, "I love you."

"Love you too," they strolled into the bathroom.

Phil used the chance to wash Clint's hair and scarred body, studying each scar. "They aren't that bad. They make you more unique."

Clint chuckled, "Hmhm, I think I can get used to them. And yours." It was Clint's turn to pamper his handler, he placed butterfly kissed on each new scar before he applied shower gel.

His fingers lingered longer than necessary over the scar Loki inflicted, "Even that one."

Phil took Clint's hand and pressed their intertwined hands against his chest before his kissed him gently.

They didn't need words to communicate, each touch, each kiss, told them exactly what they needed to know.

They belonged together. Their bodies and hearts worked in tune and not even a break up and years apart could change that.