brandingproblem | open post

Fury is reasonable, sometimes. Lenient with those he likes, which isn't always great, but who is Clint to complain when Fury was someone who backed him, vouched for him, after Loki?

He can't see Phil working for Tony. Just...no. He'll still be SHIELD, yeah. Things will just probably be...a little different. "They'll reassign you. Or me. And you know how hard it was to get a handle on me the first time around."

He's much calmer these days. But it won't be the easiest transition.

"I'm just worried. About you."

"You will still be an Avenger and unless they want every Avenger up in arms they're going to keep me as a liaison between SHIELD and the Avengers." Again, Phil's sticking to the reasonable response. He knows SHIELD. It's been his life since he left the Rangers.

He reaches across the table and squeezes Clint's wrist. "There might be an official mark in my file. Maybe they threaten bumping my security clearance down. And maybe they force me to take unpaid leave for awhile. But they're not going to let me go."

Phil's confident and comfortable with that. He is ready to face the consequences of this relationship whatever they may be. As long as they don't cost him Clint. He wants to keep Clint fiercely.

He looks up at Phil, really looks, when his handler-partner reaches for him. Even if they couldn't still work together, somehow, Clint knows he'll still be able to fall back here, get the help and encouragement and debriefing, in a sense, that he needs. Phil's spent a long time getting to learn and understand what Clint needs. That's irreplaceable.

"And a next step, being public, that's what you want? You're good with everyone knowing?" It's a little terrifying to consider, actually. So much of his life now has been clandestine, and this most of all. He tries to mitigate that with a smirk and a joke. "You just wanna hold my hand everywhere we go so bad, you softie."

"Like you said I'm not saying we make a huge announcement," Phil says with a small smile. "But I would like to hold your hand in public. And flirt with you. And perhaps even do something entirely radical and kiss you."

He doubts that they'll be in any major way different from how they've always been. They won't fawn over each other or be overly physically affectionate. It's not in their nature just like pet names aren't in their nature.

"Do you think it'll change something between us?" he asks, curious if that's really what worried Clint.

"Gonna break a lot of hearts, taking Hawkeye off the market like that." Not that the tabloids will care, anyway. He'll be secretly dating the whole rest of the team within a month anyway.

"Won't it? Change something?" He gives a strained smile. "What we are is great. It works for us really well. Being more open and going to dinners and all, that does something different. Opens us up to being something a little more defined. Does that bother you? The lack of definition we've got?"

"What I would like is to stop wondering if I've crossed some unspoken line because I want to touch you while we're in public." Phil is thinking back to the moment in the tailor's. That hesitation, the questioning, Phil would really like that to stop.

"Or question that I want to treat you to a nice dinner out. We've been together, defined or not, for long enough that even if we haven't said it we're more than just casual." There are deep feelings here. Phil would have so many regrets if this relationship ended.

"If you don't want to label this, that's fine but other people will whether we like it or not. Especially if we're going on dates."

"I thought the line was pretty well spoken, until today." Clint frowns. He can read Phil pretty damn well by now, but even with his expertise, he misses the small details, the hidden ones. "Did I hurt you?"

"I think they were but the longer were together the more those lines blur for me, I guess." Phil squeezes Clint's wrist.

"No, you didn't. I thought I had made you uncomfortable, actually." He smiles a little bit. "You make very silly sometimes. In a good way."

"I'd like it. If we could just be us but everywhere, all the time. Obviously not the parts that would get us arrested in public." Roll it all into a lighter hearted joke.

"I think we'd have to renegotiate the lines, though. So we know where we stand for sure. And..." He hesitates, shakes his head. "I should know better than to ask and keep asking if you're sure. I don't really...date." Not very successfully, at least. And god, it's a little strange to actually say the word and to mean it. "Not a lot of...boyfriend history."

"I don't think our sex tape would be as popular as Stark's." More dry humor to keep things settled. They are still them even if they're taking another step forward in their relationship.

Phil brushes his thumb back and forth across Clint's knuckles because he can and finds it soothing for himself. "I don't think history matters too much. As long as we keep talking to each other, we should be fine. My previous relationships have usually ended because they figure out I'm not telling them everything."

And he can't because his previous relationships were all with civilians who didn't have the security clearance to know what he did. That's one thing Phil doesn't have to worry about. Clint generally knows exactly what he's working on because Clint's working on it too.

"And I'm not going to ask you to give up your bachelor apartment," he says, "I know you need space sometimes."

"If we ever start talking about moving in together, we're moving into one of the swanky stark tower floors and claiming it all for ourselves and pestering Jarvis at all hours."

But it's appreciated. They spend a lot of time together, for work and in bed, and it's cozy. But he does need space, needs to decompress on his own, stretch his wings as it were. The city feels too crowded sometimes.

"I don't know. We get on great. I'm just worried that if we escalate to something more, you're gonna see shit in me you don't like, or I'm gonna flake out and rabbit on you. Or that we might ruin what we've got already."

"I don't know if I can live with Stark." Phil frowns a little. It isn't that he doesn't like Stark. He sort of does like him a little bit. Spending all his time around Stark might change that though.

Phil doesn't consider himself clingy even though he does enjoy cuddling a lot. If Clint says he needs some time alone then he needs time alone. He doesn't worry Clint won't come back. He always does.

"Is there a side of you I haven't seen in all the years we've known each other?" Because they've known each other longer than they've been sleeping together. "I know how much of a bastard you can be. I remember when you first came in. And if you feel like you need to run then okay."

Because he will never demand Clint be with him. "I would try to talk you out of it. I care about you so much and I wouldn't let you go easily but if you really decided you were done with me then okay."

A furrow forms between his brows, and he pulls away. Ostensibly to clean up. He knows it'll look like the retreat that it is as he pads into the kitchen. "Okay," echoing the word.

And it just doesn't sit well. Yes, Phil will put in an effort to keep him, but it doesn't sound like much, especially when he knows that if he decides to leave--it won't be because of Phil. It'll be because of himself. Do either of them think it at all likely that Clint will ever just get sick of Phil and just want to end it?

And the fact that he can't see a way of this ending that in any way has to do with him being done with Phil should say a lot, right? That he's just as serious about this.

"You know this doesn't end well, right?" Said in the direction of the countertop. "Job like this, one of us is gonna meet some messy end. And I'm a lot of work. Wouldn't want it to feel like all that effort could go to waste."

"That's been a risk since we started sleeping together," Phil points out. "That's been a risk since we actually started being friends. I know what could happen."

And that's always been there. Phil's aware the risks Clint takes have gotten more intense because of the Avengers too. He's fighting things that he was never really trained to fight.

He stands and crosses to him, rubbing a hand gently against the small of his back. "Time with you has never been a waste. I want whatever time we get."

Clint has to be willing to take that risk with him. That's all Phil's asking him to do. He doesn't have to change or be whomever he thinks Phil should want. Phil wants what he has with a few more perks like a hug after a hard won fight. Or sit next to him when the Avengers hang out.

"Don't let Stark give my euology. He'll make it about himself, somehow. You and Rogers, you'll talk like soldiers, gun salute and everything, so you guys are out. Probably gotta be Nat."

This is not the time or the place for that. Remember to breathe.

Breathe in. Give Phil a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, back again. "Okay." Breathe out.

"Do we wanna save all the PDA for dinner? On our first official date?"

"I'll let the janitor who cleans my office give your euology before Stark says a word." Phil leans in and presses a gentle kiss against the side of Clint's head. Maybe they're being too casual about this but this is the reality of their lives.

The okay is a good sign. Clint will still be worried. Until he has proof that he doesn't need to be worried.

"I say we play it by ear. If the opportunity arises and we both want to..." Phil shrugs. It's hard to say right now when they're just talking about it for the first time. It's exciting and scary. He understands.

"Like walking down the street." Holding hands. "Or cluing in your tailor, if he hasn't gotten the gist already." More touching without any heed to who sees.

And getting to do that all the time, whenever they want.

He turns enough to face Phil. "Any lines we shouldn't cross here?"

Now that Clint's facing him Phil slides his arm around his waist holding him loosely. This is just how they are when they're home.

"We'll still be professional at the office." Because Phil's very strict about work and insists that line stays in place. "But after hours with the Avengers seems like it would be fine."

If the Avengers know, that's fine with Phil. It will stop Pepper from questioning him about his personal life. "I think we'll find some while we're exploring this."

"You know they don't mind having you around." He doesn't need to say it. He says it anyway. He'll keep saying it until Phil accepts that they're all friends, or friendly enough. There's an internal fight, brief, fluttering, where Clint thinks he might duck out of this barely-there embrace, need air, need some breathing room. And he shoves it aside so he can lay his arms around Phil's shoulders, hands loosely touching somewhere back from Phil's neck. "Hang out, watch tv, let me put my head in your lap while I kick my feet up on Thor's. Loosen your damn tie and roll up your sleeves. You'll look practically indecent."

Phil feels a bit like an outsider with the Avengers most of the time. He's not on the same level as them. He also expects that they see him as interrupting, bringing work into their private downtime where they don't have to be heroes.

"We can try that." He knows it will be chaos the first time the team sees them like that but once they get through that it should be fine in the future. "But since we're home we could do that now. Without Thor."

There's a couch and mindless TV to lose themselves in other people's problems. Or a nature documentary, whatever catches their interest.

It's the kind of chaos Clint likes. A little social chaos. That'll get a lot of really funny reactions.

"Mm, spend time laying on my favorite person while he pets my hair?" Because that is the request and the inevitability, that there will be hair petting. "How can I say no to that?"

"You sometimes offer other suggestions of what we could do with our time." Phil kisses his temple. "I'm even willing to wait to do the dishes until tomorrow just to pet your hair sooner."

He squeezes Clint's side before they untangle and grabs a beer from the fridge before making his way to the couch. He's already got his sleeves rolled up but he deliberately undoes the top three buttons on his shirt before he sits down.

Phil puts an arm across the back of the couch which gives Clint plenty of room to make himself comfortable. The beer gets set down on a coaster and the remote gets picked up to channel surf.

"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?"

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