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The adore comment is nice. Phil doesn't fight the gentle smile. The sexual flirtation is a little less welcome considering Clint can't touch him without being afraid of hurting him.

"We can start with us sleeping in the same bed and go from there," he suggests as he settles in to eat dinner and drink wine with his boyfriend.

He grimaces a little down at his plate. "And wake each other up with nightmares? " Which, perhaps he should pry a little himself. "Or are you sleeping a little better now?"

"Define a little better." He sighs. "The pain used to wake me up before a nightmare could get too bad. As I heal I stay in the nightmares longer."

Which is to say he's still having the same nightmares but he's sleeping longer in them. Phil doesn't thrash in his sleep. He doesn't move much at all but back when he was healing it had been enough for pain and the pain had woken him.

"I've been sleeping enough that the doctors aren't concerned. I don't take the sleeping pills they give me."

"So you're in the no winning part of healing. Sleep's sleep, though. Even if it's shitty sleep." It doesn't worry the doctors, so, that's good enough. And it'll get better. With time. Hopefully. Just a length of time that will feel like an eternity.

He has to think that, because he has to hope for the best for himself, too.

"The pills aren't gonna hurt, you know. The grogginess in the morning sucks, but it isn't like you're jumping right into the field."

"I'd rather not be groggy first thing in the morning when I'm sleeping with a gun under my pillow." He pushes his pasta around for a moment before he continues.

"I keep thinking I should be dead and I'm waiting for Loki to show up and finish it." He's told his therapist some of that in more careful phrases but the truth of it is Phil feels like he should've died.

Luck does not feel like a good enough reason that he's alive.

"Have you considered breaking the habit for a bit and maybe not have it under your pillow?" It feels like his blood's gone cold at the thought. Of a return. Of what'll happen should that come to pass. "A gun's not gonna stop him if he manages to make his way back here."

"On my nightstand makes it too easy for someone to disarm me." Because they're all paranoid like that. He tries very hard to be less paranoid and tell himself that someone won't anticipate an agent like himself having weapons hidden away.

"I am working up towards putting it under the bed where I had it before." Not under the mattress or in a drawer but under the bed in easy reach. The pillow feels better for now. Hopefully for now. "I'm aware but trying very hard to live a somewhat normal life like I haven't stared down gods and monsters."

A slow nod. This isn't great dinner conversation even if it's important. "Part of me really wants to make a joke about gunplay in bed, but that's probably tasteless even for me."

"We're kinky but we're not that kinky," he says because he's often picked up Clint's jokes when Clint couldn't make them himself. Or he thought of a better one.

These are the kinds of dinner conversations they have sometimes. "Do you sleep without a weapon nearby?"

"It'd be really hot if not for having gun safety drilled into my skull for so many years that if we wanted to go for it, we'd really just have to get a prop gun or even a toy instead, and that's just not the same."

Right, maybe tuck that thought back since they aren't going to do anything kinky for god only knows how long. Until they wither away from blue balls or something.

"Weapon, yes; nearby, yes. Gun under my pillow, no; I'm not James Bond. If I do that, I'm on a mission, and I'm not sleeping but waiting to get the drop on someone."

"Maybe you're handling this better than I am." It's the years of gun safety training that keeps Phil from having one in the chamber and the safety on when he puts the gun there but it's not sane and he knows that. But if Loki comes back he needs something to face him down with and he needs to be fast.

He shrugs and sips his wine. "Maybe I should talk with Thor and see if that'll reassure me Loki's not coming back. I know he's gone but I almost died facing an illusion. I can't help but think... what if that's all they brought to Asgard?"

That he has talked to his therapist about.

"Maybe I can't sleep in the same bed as you if you need a gun under your pillow and I'm gonna wake up from a nightmare with that gun pressed to your fucking forehead like he's gonna use me to finish the job."

It comes out in a rush, and he feels all wound up all the tighter for it. Like he shouldn't have said it. Like it won't go over well. But Phil needs to know. That he's not handling it better.

Phil still doesn't understand why Clint feels like he's going to hurt him or be the one to finish the job. It was Loki that stabbed Phil, not Clint. Is he worried about hurting Natasha too? He'll ask her.

"So, if the gun isn't under the pillow but safely locked away you'll spend the night?" he asks.

"It just--" He has to remember that breathing is a thing that he needs to be doing. "It just needs to be not in easy reach. Where I can't grab it in my sleep, or in those moments after I wake up but I'm not awake yet. I got a drawer I keep something. Hard to tug it open and dig anything useful out if I'm not alert and thinking about it."

"I would feel safer with you there." Because he does still believe and trust absolutely that Clint wouldn't hurt him. Now that he's free of Loki's influence, he wouldn't hurt him. Clint even said he adores him. Still.

"Safe enough that the gun can go somewhere you think is safe. If you're willing to try that." Phil's not promising anything more than a night of sleep because Clint's clearly still skittish. But it could be a start for both of them.

"I don't know. I haven't spent the night with anyone since." And he's sure Phil hasn't, either. "Sorry. I maybe shouldn't keep apologizing, but I feel like a shitty boyfriend. About all this."

"You'd be a shitty boyfriend if you'd spent the night with people instead. I would understand Natasha, though." Because they both love her in their own way. She's someone he would trust to share a bed with Clint without question.

"I don't know if there's a good way to be a boyfriend about this. I don't think any couple counselor would be able to untangle what was done to us." He shrugs and gently rests his foot against Clint's under the table. "We're figuring it out."

"I'm on doc number four." Clint admits it with such misery in his voice. "I burned through three of them cuz it's been...hard to find someone who's been able to put up with my bullshit. And I mean both me and also the whole...what happened. Maybe this'll be what breaks me of my fucking paranoid insanity or whatever."

"Sometimes a therapist isn't the right match for the patient. That doesn't make it your fault, Clint." Phil sets his hand on the table and leaves it up to Clint if he wants to take it or not.

"All we can do is try if you want." He imagines it won't be a great night of sleep for both of them but it might shake something loose. It might help in it's own way to reassure them both.

He looks at that hand, sees it for the offer that it is, and doesn't take it. Does that make him a bad boyfriend? Is he not trying hard enough?

"I know. That none of it's my fault. It's alien magic; there's no fighting that when you're just a normal squishy human, I s'pose." Also not his fault. Super special awesome humans are few and far between, rarities to the modern world that he's aware of. "It's just hard not to feel it when I lived it."

Clint's not ready to take it and that's fine. Phil now knows why he doesn't want to touch him and that's it's not personal. It's something Clint's trying to work through.

"I don't think any of our special ops training against truth serums and torture prepared us for magic that takes over the mind," he agrees. "And I don't think any of our trauma therapists know what to do with it either. Which is why I suggested seeking advice from Asgard."

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know that I necessarily want to talk about my shit with someone who--god this is going to sound stupid and maybe racist? Someone who talks like that. Vaguely English Shakespearean." He shrugs. "Like him."

"I don't think it's stupid." It makes sense that Clint wouldn't want to talk to someone who sounds like the man who captured him and used him. Phil understands that.

"I guess we need to find the Asgardian version of a hick accent," he says dryly.

"I mean, I can talk to Thor without freaking out or anything, but we're also not exactly going to sit down and have a heart to heart about his brother. He loves his brother. I get that. He grew up with the prick. I mean I don't personally get it, but like I get it. So I don't know that we're gonna see eye to eye on anything on that front. He's also, y'know, hammer man. Feelings aren't his strong suit."

He grows quiet, pensive, stabbing at his pasta but not really eating it. Thinking through things. Thinking about the relationship and how it's straining. How they're trying. How maybe they should've been trying sooner.

"I don't know if he just didn't have any concept of personal space or if he didn't think us lowly creatures were worth having any." Is a thought that he starts with.

It doesn't take Phil long to realize Clint's talking about Loki. Thor he knew fairly well and knew he respected humans. He doesn't seem them as lowly or creatures anymore. He sees they're worthy. Phil knows that from how Thor treats every person around him.

He thinks the worse and hates Loki even more for it. If he put his hands on Clint... if he...

Well, Loki's simply lucky he's on Asgard.

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