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"Keep undoing your shirt like that, and I might actually come up with something better than lap time and hair petting."

Maybe. The important thing right now is watching his partner-something get comfy, and then coming in to fill the void left just for him. He even refrains from vaulting over the back of the couch to show off as he's done before. Deliberate in the way he settles on the cushions, head tucked in Phil's lap, angled to watch tv while knowing he's only going to pay enough attention to give some smart comments and not much else.

He rolls it over in his head. The idea of the word boyfriend. Not handler-partner-lover. Is that a word they want to use? Is that a definition they're going to reach for, for what they are? He'll have to ruminate on that.

He's tempted for half a second to undo one button just to see what Clint does but puts it aside. If Clint was serious about that he would've made a move already. He suspects that Clint needs time to think. In the field he'll throw himself at danger with very little forethought but he's going to think about this now.

Phil settles his fingers in Clint's hair and pets through the short stands slowly. It's soothing for him as well, actually. The weight of Clint's head in his lap, the warmth of where their bodies press together, and the steady rhythm are permission for him to truly leave Agent Coulson behind and just be Phil.

He slumps a little into the couch cushions and watches other people be absolutely terrible at solving simple everyday problems that aren't in the least bit serious. And he waits to see if Clint has anything else he wants to get off his chest.

Edited 2023-03-18 12:04 (UTC)

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?"

"Clint Coulson is a terrible name," he says as he glances down at Clint with a little smile. It's a bit of a surprise even as a joke. Phil hadn't thought about marriage. He thought about a label and officially saying they're dating to their friends.

Marriage is quite a leap forward. Phil knows it's just a joke but now the wonder, the question will always be in the back of his mind. The wonder if that's where this is going next.

"Sure." Phil rests his hand on Clint's chest while they talk. Talking while petting usually encourages sleep and Clint seems to want to talk right now. "Boyfriends is fine. I might use partner partially because I enjoy the confusion people get about the term."

Phil is very quietly a troll sometimes.

"Phil Barton isn't any better."

But that's for something maybe never, or at the very least later. Like, a while later, if that. Right now they are sometimes-boyfriends and definitely-partners. Clint lays a hand on top of Phil's.

"Partner's good. I like that one. Especially since Nat's also my partner. Confuses the hell outta people; I love it."

"Hopefully Natasha is alright with being in a polycue with us," he says with a little smile. He suspects she'll enjoy the joke until it actually interferes with what she wants.

He turns his hand over and laces their fingers together. "Our names don't exactly lend themselves to marriage. I guess we can never get married."

Hopefully he's not going too far with the joke. He's still keeping things casual and light even though it's a rather serious topic. They can't talk about being open about their relationship but they can joke around about marriage.

"Nope, you're right, not ever. We'll be bachelors forever, with each other." So long as it's all just a joke. They can joke about anything. "That's okay; I don't think Nat's all that cut out to be my best man. And we can't have Tony around the open bar unless we want to flirt with disaster."

Actually, that doesn't sound too bad. They can be who they are and be together like this for as long as time gives them. Phil really wouldn't mind that.

The bar comment makes him chuckle. "If Stark wants to pay for the bar he can have it open. I'll make sure there's a nice secure holding cell for him when he starts making trouble."

He rubs their hands over Clint's chest. "But... I say we sneak away and put LMDs in our place. I don't think we should watch the chaos up close."

"Watch the chaos?" Clint laughs. "Sorry, wait, you've met me, right? You think your partner's gonna be content to just watch the chaos instead of being part of it? In the middle of it? Instigating it? Is it even a party if there isn't a risk that you'll have to bail me out of jail the next day?"

"You can get arrested on your bachelor party but you're not getting arrested on our wedding night." Phil thinks it's very big of himself not to mention how Clint is a sniper and being out of the action is actually his whole role.

"I'll have plans for you that night." Phil squeezes their joined hands. It's almost too easy to imagine rings pressing against skin.

"I love you." He says because he can and there's no reason not to.

Oh. Oh, this all got very real very quickly. And he--does not know what to say.

Logically, he knows what he's supposed to say in response. But 'love' is really not a word they've ever talked about. Obviously this is a thing they both very likely feel, very strongly in fact! But like 'date', it feels like a loaded word, ready to go off at the wrong time and do some damage.

What's worse, saying nothing in return, or saying something else? What does he say??

"Thanks."

He hopes he keeps the utter mortification off his face.

Luckily for Clint Phil knows him well enough not to be offended or mad that he gets a thanks in return. It's probably the most Clint thing he could have said. His smile deepens if anything.

"You know, it's because of your way with words." He rubs his thumb back and forth slowly across his knuckles. "I can't believe I'm going to say this but think less about it and just enjoy it."

That's all he asking Clint to do. He doesn't need to say anything or do anything. He just needs to accept that Phil loves him and leave it at that.

Clint throws his free arm over his eyes and groans. "This is gonna be some really funny story you tell people years from now. And I'm probably gonna wanna jump in a hole every time."

"I already have a few of those stories already." Phil doesn't press any further though. Clint's clearly having a hard time with his own emotions right now. He doesn't need to make it worse even if he does find it a bit amusing to watch him squirm.

He moves his hand back to Clint's hair and starts petting again. Time to settle down and relax. They've made a lot of big steps today that they'll both need to process.

Right now, Phil let's himself be happy with them.

Clint huffs but lets it go. Of course there are plenty of embarrassing stories, even if some of those he's also kind of proud of. And at least Phil's not hurt by not saying it back. There's no expectation of it, currently. And transitions back to petting easily.

It's easy to say not to think about it, but now it's going to be all he thinks about.

Maybe he'll just set it aside and sink into sensation instead. Yeah. That's the way to go.

When it's obvious that they're both falling asleep on the couch he turns the television off and nudges Clint's shoulder.

"Come on, bedtime." Phil stretches his arms over his head afterwards but waits until Clint's sitting up before he stands. He kisses the top of his head on his way to the bedroom and bathroom to get ready for bed.

If Clint doesn't follow because he needs that space Phil will be a little disappointed. He's found he likes sleeping with someone else in the bed. Probably because it's Clint there.

He mumbles something incoherent at the nudge and decree, probably because he was definitely starting to drift away. He stretches out, full body and feline, before rolling to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Think I'm just gonna go home," he says toward Phil's back. "If that's cool. We both kinda got a lot to think about."

Phil turns around and leans against the doorway to bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest. "If that's what you really want, sure. The invitations always open for you to stay though."

Alright, there's that little bit of disappointment. He knows from experience though that if he clings or demands it won't work. If Clint really needs that space he'll let him have it.

It probably doesn't look good, does it? Phil says the big three words, and Clint doesn't say it back, and then escapes away. Probably looks bad, in fact.

"This doesn't change anything. That hasn't already changed. We're good. Not like you won't be seeing me." Still seems bad? Hm. Still seems bad. "You want me to stay?"

"I would like you to stay."

Phil crosses the room to Clint and leans in to kiss him softly. He could see the worry and the overthinking starting again.

"But I understand if you need space and time. I know you'll come back." He believes that and trusts that. Clint will always come back to him eventually. "But if you think you have to leave? You can stop thinking that."

"I don't think I have to..." He hums delightedly into the kiss. This is good, this softness, and maybe he should give it more often. Will, probably, give it more often when they are more public. "I know you always want me to stay. I'm not gonna move in on a whim, though. I think I'd drive you crazy."

That's not what Phil's asking, obviously. But just to point out. "I just gotta get my head clear. That's all. I know that you're good at doing that for me sometimes, but...I just gotta do this for myself tonight. Think about it all. I'll be back. You'll never have seen the last of me."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow morning at work." He rubs his hand down Clint's arm. Everything they have works on the trust they have in each other. When Clint tells him he'll be back, Phil believes it. He trusts that.

He's still a gentleman who walks him to the door. And he gives him one more kiss before letting Clint go.

"Goodnight." He does watch him walk away for a few seconds before he disappears back into his apartment to get some sleep.

Phil's very assertive in his touching and kissing. It isn't bad. It isn't strange. And Clint can give as good as he gets, to be sure. It's just a strange and intense kind of day, and he'll make up for any lack later. There's a light touch of hands, holding, and leans into the kiss, and then that's that.

It's him and a walk home in the bright city night.

And it gives him a lot of time to think about it. Even when he's home and tucked into bed and laying there, thinking about it. About being more, which doesn't even really entail them being more, just being able to be what they are wherever and whenever they want. The way Phil said those words and how it felt. Knowing that really, Phil didn't have to say it at all, that it was something just inherently understood, but that it still felt good to hear it. And also terrifying.

Is this how love feels? He doesn't really have many good models to base the feeling off of. When he and Nat had tried something, ages ago now, they had quickly decided that what they felt wasn't that kind of love, and they were much better off as friends, best friends, platonic life partners as some have even called them. He knows love from family, from his mother and now from a rather forced together type of family. But love love? Like from the songs? That's what this is, right? Should he say it? Maybe he should say it. Say it out in the open in front of everyone and dip his partner low for a kiss of a lifetime and uuuuuuugh no, no, that is not going to happen.

It's going to be dinner. Fancy dinner in fancy dress. They will smile and laugh and touch. They'll hold hands and they'll kiss. And people will know.

That's a big declaration in itself. Transitioning into something they do all the time is going to probably take practice after so long clearly keeping the lines of work and play separated. So...try not to worry about it?

Which means of course he's going to worry about it and when did it get to be morning already??

It's going to be a long week to picking up those suits.

Phil, in contrast, doesn't worry about it. He falls asleep with easy though his hand does drift over to what he considers Clint's side of the bed. He sleeps well, comfortable and confident with his decision. It doesn't scare him because of the certainty he has in his heart that things will be okay in the end.

And he does notice that it's having a bigger effect on Clint. Phil doesn't change their usual routines. He doesn't change the lines they've drawn, not even a little bit. He won't until Clint's settled with the idea that they can. It may take awhile but that's fine. He's as patient as the sniper when he needs to be.

It isn't until they're walking back towards the tailors to get the suits after Clint's had his last fittings that he reaches over and takes Clint's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. His touch is loose so Clint can pull away if he's comfortable but it's different. It's new. He's making it clear.

"No one would believe me if I told them you're prone to overthinking," he teases in a dry tone.

Phil hasn't forced anything, hasn't tried anything out of the ordinary, has not, as far as he can tell, said anything to anyone. So. Slow and steady. Which is not Clint's usual style, but in this case, he's making an exception for sure. Would he be able to adapt to sudden and rapid change? Oh, for sure, without a doubt. But Phil is good, too good, at reading him. Knows that he needs a little bit of time to sit on this.

It's good luck, he thinks, that's allowed them to stay stateside and local instead of a surprise three week stint in Azerbaijan again or something like that. And it's trust, faith, and love that lets Phil take his hand without flinching.

He looks down briefly at their hands, then deliberately away. He is not prone to blushing that he's aware of, and something as small of this obviously shouldn't do anything to him. And yet. It feels big. It's small and will go unnoticed but most. And yet it's enormous for them. He grips back, firm.

"I'm not all impulse. Sometimes I even think before I do. Not usually before I speak, though."

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I've been waiting all day for work to end so I can write this tag.

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