It seems, for a good while, that he might just keep it there, close to said chest, to deploy at a later time.

He's not sure how to approach it without being blunt. Phil's good at blunt. Clint's blunt when bluntness is called for. The spy in him looks for the angles. The archer, too. A good way to come at it obliquely. And nothing really sounds right. Maybe because it's hard to think too hard with those fingers in his hair and everything so calm and steady he could probably drop right off to sleep if he let himself.

"I'd take your last name," is what he says instead, in a joking tone. There's a very messy married couple on screen that's almost halfway entertaining. That's his excuse. "It'd be really funny for someone to ask for Agent Coulson and the both of us show up." It in no way hits on the actual thought bouncing around inside his head, but it's something.

He rolls a little, enough to be looking up at his partner. "Do you want to call us boyfriends?"