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"'Court a woman'," and Clint does roll his eyes, practically flopping into the chair and grabbing some cheesy ambrosia. "Are we sure time travel is a hard thing to do, because I swear sometimes you sound very old timey. Sure you didn't drop out of the 1500's?"

"Most modern physicists think that we could theoretically go forward in time but not backwards," Phil says with a little smile. Under the table he leans his foot casually against Clint's. A small acceptable touch. Hopefully.

"I'm not some lost Asgardian hiding out on Earth, I promise." If he was he would've revealed it in the fight with Loki for sure.

"Those physicists are a riot. We're constantly in a state of going forward in time." He thinks he's very clever for that one, thanks. If he thinks anything of the barest little hint of footsie under the table, he says nothing of it.

"And you're also definitely not courting me. You're dating me. Like a modern man."

That one is fairly clever. Phil lets himself smile, one of his rare genuine smiles that hides nothing. The people who think Clint's not smart are not paying attention.

"I might court you," he muses, watching Clint across the table. "But not with poetry and flowers. That wouldn't really work on you."

Clint's opened this door. If he doesn't want to hear the grand romantic plans of one Phillip J. Coulson he should shut it soon.

The squinting look Phil gets is nothing bad, nothing malicious or suspicious, but now he doesn't know what to think. "Sex works on me pretty well," he says, and then regrets it, but pushes forward anyway. "We might have to define courting and dating then. What do you think would work on me?"

"I've noticed." Clint never seems to knows what to do when Phil offers him something soft and sweet instead of physical and hot.

"Arguably they're the same thing. Both are a period of getting to know someone prior to a deeper commitment such as marriage. Courting, however, has more restrictions on it. No one would have sex before marriage if they were truly courting someone." Phil is a nerd. Clint should be well aware of this.

"Were I courting you, I would get you historical reproductions of various bows from all over the world for you to try out. I know you're familiar with most types but there's something handmade in traditional styles that you haven't gotten your hands on." Yes, he's thought about this. Phil is a romantic.

"Historical bows." He purses his lips, gives a little tilt of his head. "That'd be pretty cool. I could have a wall of them for display. Like one of those spy walls that turn around to show an armory type."

"And I'd get to watch you draw which does very nice things for your shoulders."

Phil is fascinated by Clint's muscles. He's built entirely differently from other muscled heroes like Rogers and Thor. It has to be because of the bow and the draw. It has to be.

Running his fingers over those muscles never gets old.

"You get to watch me draw without ever having to woo me with fancy historical bows, Phil." Kind of the job! Not to watch his muscles, but...

"Usually, I'm busy watching other things as well." He pauses a moment between bites of pizza. "But I do like to watch you at the range sometimes."

He does not openly oggle at the range. Phil is careful with his glances but he does drop by now and then to watch. He doesn't think anyone could really blame him.

"You also tend to watch other things at the range, too. Nobody's gonna give a shit if you're there to watch your favorite agent do his thing and do it well." Probably. Possibly. He doesn't think it'd be a big deal.

"People thought we were sleeping together three years before we actually did." Phil's aware of the rumors about him and Clint. For years when they were simply close friends people thought they were fucking.

Phil did his best to ignore the rumors. They bothered him only when people assumed Clint got where he was through sex. Those he struggled to ignore.

"Right, so, no big deal if you swing by and kick your feet up just to watch me with those pretty eyes." He shrugs. "Watch me all you want."

"I try not to objectify you at work." Phil also tries his best to be professional at work even though he clearly lets Clint and Natasha get away with so much. No one else is allowed to sleep on the couch in his office.

"I can do that now if you're feeling left out."

"I'm kinda meant to be objectified. I'm a weapon, after all." Clint smirks, knowing that's not what's meant. "You wanna objectify me now? When I'm elbows deep in pizza?"

"That I find you attractive even when eating pizza means there's no coming back for me," he says with an overly dramatic sigh.

It's also probably the truth. Phil is happy sitting here eating pizza with his boyfriend even though they are both damaged goods.

"And it means I am just that hot, which is a compliment I'll always take." He's not quite up for preening, but just imagine it.

It's close to the Clint Barton he knows but not quite the same. Almost. It's a good sign though. Phil can feel himself relax. A little bit of himself settles knowing that Barton will be okay.

It'll just take time.

"Don't let it go to your head."

It's easy to talk. It's easy for the words to come out of his mouth and for things to feel most of the way normal when he's able to push the rest of it back. There's going to be a blow up, or several blowups, probably, down the line. And he's already trying to prepare for how nasty they're likely to be.

There's also the factor of touch, and...well, he doesn't really want to talk about that.

"Too late. You're gonna give me an overinflated ego just like Stark. Then I'll really be insufferable."

Maybe when Phil's feeling better they can fight. He's just too grateful to have Clint around right now to be that upset by the strangeness around them. The longer it goes the harder it will be to ignore. To pretend things are fine when they're not.

They've known each other long enough to tell when things aren't right.

"If you start behaving like Stark, I will divorce you."

"Joke's on you, we're not even married. Looks like you'll just have to break up with me instead, cease the courting, wound the wooing." He sucks some sauce and grease from his fingers. "What if I started acting like Rogers? God, I can't believe I missed seeing the first time you ever met him out of the ice; I bet you were an embarrassing fanboy."

Phil blushes and he really wishes he could stop himself. God, he fumbled that first meeting so badly. His life long hero and he sounded like some sort of deranged stalker.

"I have to face him again at some point," he says, almost shrinking in on himself. He doesn't do that often. Phil's faced the full fury of Fury and not flinched but he can't imagine his second meeting with Captain Rogers will go better.

"Maybe I should've stayed dead."

"Ouch, it was that bad?" While Phil shrinks, Clint takes advantage and leans across the table. "Did you get him to sign your cards? Those things are already worth big bucks, but actually signed by the man himself would make them priceless. Did he flex for you? Did you get to feel up a patriotic bicep? Did you simply faint dead away at his sparkling eyes?"

"I said something along the lines of I watch you while you slept." Phil will let Clint run with this. He'll take the embarrassment. It's not like Clint doesn't already know about his obsession and hero worship.

"Well, they would be priceless except Fury used the bloodstained cards to get Stark and Captain Rogers to bring the team together. They're worthless now." Which Phil is pissed about. He spent a long time getting those cards together.

"Phil." Clint covers his mouth to stifle the laughter. It doesn't do much to help. "You've talked to famous people and absolute badasses without blinking, but the second someone you actually admire shows up, you lose composure? Babe. That's adorable, you fucking nerd."

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