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Are they fine? Because he was pretty sure they were even more than fine until Phil started planning their retirement together, and now it feels like everything's thrown out of whack again. There's no fear of leaving, of course. If he ran every time Phil said something emotionally vulnerable and frightening, they wouldn't even be together. It's just...startling.

"I'll just buy another. Until you steal that one, too. And one day, you're gonna look at your closet and wonder how it became half flannel."

Half of his closet being flannel doesn't sound too bad, actually. It would be more evidence of Clint settling into their joint life together.

"You're going to make me late one morning and I'll walk into a briefing in a suit and flannel." Right now, he goes through the usual routine he has for going to bed at Clint's place. He doesn't expect anything sexual at all given how gun shy Clint seems right now.

He is content with simply being together again.

"Now I want to make you late soon as possible, just for fun. Think Fury'll have the good humor enough to let it slide?"

Could be sexy stuff was on the table, and now it's questionable. Which kind of sucks. But that's nobody's fault! "I don't think flannel goes with, but at least you'll be nothing but cozy."

"Have you ever seen Fury in good humor?" Phil asks with an eyebrow raised as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

He holds out a hand to Clint to encourage him to come close and stand in the space between his legs so he can look up at him with an affectionate smile. "I'm sorry I scared you tonight. I didn't mean to but I got caught up, I guess, in the fantasy of it."

Well, with an invitation like that, how can he refuse? He takes Phil's hand, cradles his face with the other. This is a man smitten. There was no lie when love came out of his mouth.

And yeah. That's frightening. Because Clint doesn't know what to do with it, how to respond to it in a genuine manner. "It's a nice fantasy. Maybe even too nice."

"The chances of us actually making it to retirement are slim." He leans into Clint's touch with a soft sigh. "We don't really lead the sort of lives that end in retirement."

And Phil had already died once. If it happened again he wouldn't be coming back a second time. He's been very clear on his feelings about experimental procedures to bring him back.

"We should probably start simple with a vacation, huh?"

"I think working up to a cozy, quiet vacation first is the better option, yeah." A quiet chuckle. Did the heart and the logic switch places for a second there? "But...'s a nice dream. Good to have dreams. The fact that I'm involved in those dreams is pretty intimidating. I think you put me on a pedestal sometimes. And when I disappoint you, it's gonna be a pretty devastating fall from on high."

"You are human," Phil says looking over Clint. "You are going to disappoint me. I'm going to disappoint you. We're going to make mistakes and hopefully we'll fix them because if I've put you on a pedestal it's about how happy I am with you."

There is that. He can admit that yes, maybe there's some worship and adoration going on here but he will never forget that Clint is human and mistakes will be made on both parts.

"You are way too good for me. You might come to realize that someday, but until then? Gonna appreciate that you're a deluded fool who's mine." He idly strokes Phil's cheek, leaning down to kiss him tenderly.

Too good? Phil doesn't see it that way but now's not the time to argue about Clint's self-image. He leans up into the kiss and runs his fingers gently over Clint's hair.

"I am yours," he says when they part. Phil's pretty sure that's not going to cause Clint to panic some more.

"All mine." Since he's pretty sure he won't be sharing Phil with anyone. Doesn't seem like his handler's style. "And I'm real lucky for it."

No, Phil wasn't inclined to share or be shared. It would take a lot of convincing for something like that. He's quite happy being with one person. That's all he needs. Clint, as it turns out, is the one person making him happy.

"I feel pretty luck myself." He presses a kiss to Clint's palm. "Now get in bed and cuddle with me."

"Gladly."

It might come as a surprise to some, how easily someone like him gets to cuddling. But it's cozy, a comfort, to have someone trusted (loved) by his side, the rhythm of breathing lulling, arms making for a better blanket than any whatever thread count sheets. He doesn't need it, except after the way this week has been, it feels needed. Feels right.

Phil curls himself around Clint with a contented sigh fitting their bodies together on instinct and memory. They will probably untangle during the night but starting this way is the perfect way to end the day.

Instead of once again saying how much he feels for Clint he laces their fingers together and presses a kiss to the base of his skull. Phil figures the message will be received loud and clear.

Oh sure, they'll untangle, retangle, wake up in the morning with limbs and bodies all askew, but they gotta start somewhere cozy. Clint sighs into it, their fingers laced, the kiss pressed tenderly. "Right back at you, boss."

Maybe he'll say it in words someday. Maybe he won't. Maybe the sentiment will translate well enough.

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