Chapter Text
Two Weeks Later:
Clint stumbles through the door of James’s apartment, eyes already half closed. He drops his phone on the counter next to a pile of papers and shuffles to the couch, promptly flopping on top of James with an exhausted, “Hi.”
“Hi,” James says, patting his shoulder. “Long day?”
“Long week,” Clint mumbles, scrunching his face up as Lucky tries to lick his nose. “Get off me, you little monster.”
“He missed you. I missed you.”
“Missed you too.” Clint offers him a tired smile, then tugs him down into a kiss. “Do you know how much paperwork it takes to undo being dead? So much. But apparently I get six months of back-pay, so that’s cool.” He picks his head up, looking at the oven. “Is that pizza?”
“Yes.”
“Best boyfriend ever.” He squints. “Are there two?”
“Yes.”
“Definitely best boyfriend.” Clint kisses him again. “Sorry I haven’t been around much. All the stuff going on, with SHIELD and everything, and then Strange wanted to see how my memories were doing—” He breaks off, rubbing his eyes. “Also Pierce dying kinda screwed some things up. We know he was Hydra, but to the rest of the world he was just a senator, and—”
“It was him or you,” James says firmly. “I’m not apologizing for that.”
“I don’t want you to. I’m glad you picked me. But it’s just another thing we have to clean up.” He lets out a long breath. “Point being, I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” James murmurs. “I know you’ve got a lot going on. There was a lot that happened in the last week.”
“Just feel like I haven’t seen you.”
“We have time,” James says simply, threading their fingers together. “Plenty of it. It’s only been a few weeks, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Clint says.
James gently scratches through his hair. “You look tired.”
“I’m dead,” Clint admits, then winces at his phrasing. “Well. Not really. I’m very tired. I’d like to eat everything in this place and then sleep for a week.”
“A whole week, huh?”
“I’m catching up on six months, give me a break.” Clint waves at the counter. “That from Ivan?”
“Yeah. Dropped it off today. It’s all legal now. Building is officially mine.”
Clint flashes a thumbs up. “You ever gonna tell me where you got all your money from?”
“Someday.” James smiles at him. “Gotta maintain some mystery and all. Can’t have you knowing all my secrets.”
“Mmm.” Clint pats Lucky’s head, then brightens as the oven beeps. “Pizza!”
“Pizza,” James agrees. “Move, I’ll bring it to you.”
“Mmm,” Clint says, making absolutely no effort to move. “Use magic.”
James laughs. “I’m not that advanced. Let me up, darlin’.”
“You’re so old,” Clint tells him, but he reluctantly moves, letting James slide him to the side as he gets up. As soon as he does, Lucky jumps onto the couch, curling up where James was just sitting.
James sighs at him. “Couch thief,” he says, patting Lucky’s head. “Lucky you’re cute.”
Lucky barks at his name, then settles around Clint, licking his ear. Clint grumbles at him even as he pats the soft yellow fur. “I want all of the pizza,” he calls to James.
“We’ll start with half,” James says, bringing over a plate. “See how you do.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“It can be?”
Clint grins and sits up enough to take the plate. “Thank you,” he says, picking up a piece. “Oh, Strange and Tony figured out that ray gun thing, by the way. I tried to get the specifics, but then my eyes kinda glazed over and I quit listening after that. Long story short, it shouldn’t be disintegrating anyone else.”
James nods. “Nice. How’s Natasha?”
“She’s in D.C. with Fury and Bruce. They’re chasing down a few leads. Finding some Hydra plants.” Clint rubs his eyebrows, suddenly feeling tired again. “There’s so many of them, James.”
“I know,” James murmurs, sitting on his other side. He wraps an arm around Clint. “I’m sorry.”
“I just—” Clint waves a slice of pizza. “Everything we did. All the missions. How many of them were for Hydra? Was any of it—”
“You’re gonna drive yourself crazy, doing that,” James tells him, pulling him in tighter. “Did you help people? On those missions? I mean you, personally. Did you save people?”
“Lots of ‘em.”
“Then focus on that,” James says, kissing his forehead. “I promise if you keep thinking about all the what-ifs, you’re gonna lose it. You did good stuff out there with the information you had. And now you know, so you can help make it right.” He huffs out a quiet laugh. “Trust me. I know what it’s like. To look back at your life and wonder if it was worth it.”
“Guess you would,” Clint says, suddenly feeling like an asshole. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
James shoves a slice of pizza in his mouth, effectively shutting him up. “No apologies,” he says. “I’m making a point. Eat your pizza and let me comfort you.”
“Fine,” Clint says, elbowing him. James elbows him back, and from there it devolves into a little wrestling match. Clint drops his pizza, but considering he ends up on the floor with James kissing him, he considers it a win anyway.
“Your dog’s eating our dinner,” Clint says against his mouth.
“Good,” James murmurs, sliding his hands under Clint’s shirt. “Keep him distracted.”
Clint grins. “Distracted for what?”
“Gonna take you to bed.” James pulls Clint’s shirt off, tossing it to the side. “Protests?”
“God, no.”
James grins back at him, then gets up, hauling him to his feet. “Good,” he says. “Oven’s off, landline’s off the hook, my phone is off, and if you even think about answering yours—”
“I would never,” Clint assures him. “They want me, they’re gonna have to come pull me off you, I’ve been waiting forever for this.”
“Yeah? You were thinking about me?”
“All the damn time,” Clint says, pulling James’s shirt up as they stumble backwards towards the stairs.
James’s face just lights up, like he’s been waiting to hear those words, and it’s so perfect that for a moment Clint can hardly stand it. “Glad to hear it,” is all he says, smile wide and brilliant. Then he picks Clint up like he’s nothing, carrying him up the stairs before dumping him on the bed.
“That was super hot,” Clint breathes, propping up on his elbows. “You—”
“Look really good throwing people around, I know.” James laughs and reaches for Clint’s belt. “You got too many clothes on, honey.”
“Could say the same thing about you,” Clint says, lifting his hips as James tugs his pants down. “Gonna do something about it?”
“In a moment,” James says, running his eyes all over Clint with an appreciative gaze. “Just gonna take care of you first, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds nice,” Clint says, reaching up for him.
This is what he missed most, hanging out as a ghost. Coffee, sure, and food, and sleeping, and being an Avenger. But this—just being able to touch someone—he’s never taking this for granted again. Never dismissing the need for it. He hadn’t realized how much he depended on physical contact until it was taken from him, ripped away without a second thought.
And sure, he could touch James before he came back. But it wasn’t the same. There was always a sense of missing something, of something being not quite right. Now it’s real, and James is a solid presence, and so is Clint, and—
“You’re thinking too much,” James says, propping up on his elbows, a slight smirk on his face. “Am I boring you?”
“No,” Clint tells him, running his hand up James’s arm. “I’m just happy to be here.”
Words have never really been his strong suit—he’s always been more of a show than tell kind of guy—but he apparently hits the mark for the second time, because James lights up again, happiness written all over him. “Me too,” he says simply, and leans down to kiss him.
They don’t talk much, after that, just murmured questions and nodded consent, and a lot of colorful cursing on Clint’s part. James just watches with a grin as he takes Clint apart piece by piece, fingers and hands and mouth just adding to the haze in Clint’s mind.
“You’re pretty like this,” he murmurs as he finally slides a condom on and eases in, making Clint grab at his shoulders, eyes closing at the feeling.
“Pretty always,” Clint counters, fingers digging into James’s back.
“That too,” James agrees, grabbing one of Clint’s legs, pushing it up towards his chest. “But especially like this.”
“Stop saying nice things and fuck me.” Clint reaches up, pulls him down into a kiss. “Now.”
James snickers. “I can do both.”
“Yeah? Prove it.”
“Fine,” He snaps his hips forward, and Clint’s breath catches in a moan. “Like that?”
“Yes,” Clint gasps, fingers tightening again. “God, James—”
James mutters something and does it again, his own eyes closing. “I got you, sweetheart,” he says, and kisses Clint again, a slow thing, full of more tenderness than Clint’s ever felt in his life. “You’re amazing, god—”
Clint takes one of his hands, winding their fingers together, and presses his own back into the bed. “Hold me,” he says, and James just nods, hand tightening around Clint’s as he starts moving, just slow enough to be devastatingly perfect.
Afterwards, they disentangle themselves and clean up, then go back downstairs. Clint gets the rest of the pizza from the counter and they watch scary movies while curled up together on James’s couch.
Clint traces his fingers over James’s arm, listening to Lucky gently snoring on his other side. Being a ghost sucked, more than anything he’s ever experienced in his entire fucking life. But to come out of it on the other side and have this—James, and Lucky, and all of his friends knowing he’s alive and well—
Well. It almost makes the whole thing worth it.
Clint leans further into him, stretching his legs out on the couch. He knows there’s gonna be more long days, more long weeks. They’re still working on cleaning Hydra out of SHIELD, which is a process and a half. Even now, sitting here, Clint can feel the clock ticking down, his phone like a little bomb on the kitchen counter. He’d traded in half a dozen favors to come here tonight, just to scrape together a few hours with James, and he knows that it might come back to get him later.
But that’s in the future. Right now he has pizza, and a dog, and someone who cares about him holding him, and it’s more than he’s had in a long few months. So he’ll take it, no matter what’s coming down the pipeline. Because if he’s learned anything the past few months, he’s learned life is grossly unfair, and if he’s got something good, he needs to hold onto it with both hands.
So he does just that, winding his fingers around James’s and holding on tightly. James chuckles quietly. “Movie scaring you?”
“Nah,” Clint tells him. “I’m just holding onto you. You’re something good, you know.”
James kisses the top of his head. “Glad to hear it,” he says, a smile in his voice and he squeezes Clint’s hands back. “So are you.”