Chapter Text
New Mexico was the last time Phil saw Clint alone for several months. Everything, including HYDRA, was bumped down Phil’s priority list by the discovery of Captain America and a breakthrough on the Tesseract research. Clint was sent to a secret base in the Mojave Desert to provide surveillance and head the security detail on the Tesseract, and Phil was put in charge of integrating Captain America into the 21st century.
Heading the security detail was a prestigious position for Clint and it put in him charge of a number of other agents for a long-term project (which he wasn’t 100% certain he was ready to do, but his orders came from the Director and Phil had smiled at him and looked so damn proud, Clint just hadn’t had the heart to tell him he didn’t think he could do it.) So here he was.
He got used to the added responsibility of scheduling the security shifts and writing weekly reports, which turned out to not be too hard because: he was damn good at knowing what needed to be done to keep a place secure. The rest was mostly common sense and Coulson was the report master and he gave Clint feedback on all his reports before officially submitting them. After the panic wore off, it turned out to be pretty dull.
What sucked an unbelievable amount was not seeing Phil. They talked at least once a week to debrief and review Clint’s reports, but it was not the same. And knowing that Phil was spending an awful lot of time with the real-life Captain America (aka the original super hero; the spiritual foundation on which SHIELD was based; a man Clint was sure Phil had more than a few fantasies about; a man who was stronger than Clint and probably had arms that were even better defined than his; a man that Clint knew Phil thought was bisexual) was NOT helping.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if they could talk about more than work. Back in New Mexico, Clint was pretty sure Phil had wanted to say ‘I love you’, but he hadn’t actually said it, and now Clint was starting to wonder if maybe Phil had meant something else entirely? Maybe it was a good thing Clint hadn’t said it? It would have been hella awkward if Phil hadn’t wanted to say it back.
Clint thought about it for days leading up to his weekly call to Phil and planned what he was going to say exactly. Something completely innocuous that only Phil would understand was sentimental, something to break through the Agent Coulson facade just a little. So when they finished the formal part of the call he took a deep breath and he tried to make it sound as if it were a casual offhand remark: “The food here kind of sucks, I miss cooking in your kitchen.”
Phil took a moment to respond (which Clint thought was a good sign) but when he spoke his voice was the same as it had been for the whole call. He said “I miss your cooking”. But Clint couldn’t see his face and, to make it worse, Phil moved on to talking about Captain America (who, by the way, he was now calling Steve). Steve likes this. Steve asked about that. Steve and I did this. Steve and I are going to see a baseball game. Clint was getting royally sick of Steve. So a week later when Phil ended their next phone call by saying that he and Nick would be coming by for a site inspection the following week, Clint was over the moon. Especially because Steve was apparently busy with tech training and wouldn’t be able to join them.
Nick started giving Phil a side-eyed glare about half way through the flight to see Clint.
Officially it was a trip to check on the Tesseract; but, in Phil’s head, it was a trip to see Clint. And while his attention was 100% focused on the conversation he was having with Nick about the HYDRA infestation, he had caught himself smiling more than once; and, he was sure smiling while discussing a world security threat was not doing anything to improve the Director’s mood.
Eventually the Director gave up and closed the folder they were looking at. “I suppose I should be impressed that you are able to coherently talk about the HYDRA infestation while you are obviously thinking about something else?”
Phil’s smile faded again, “Sorry, Director.”
Nick sighed. “It’s okay, Cheese. Let’s take a break.” He opened the mini bar and poured them each a small drink. “How have things been with you and Barton?”
Phil frowned a little. “Good mostly. New Mexico was great. But I haven’t really been able to talk to him since then.”
“So is it Rogers or Barton that has you distracted today? Because I know there was a time when no one would have been able to eclipse Captain America.”
Phil blushed, “It’s not Steve. He’s amazing, and with the HYDRA situation, I couldn’t be happier to have Captain America on our team, but he was never real to me the way Clint is.”
“And now that he’s here in the flesh? Is he real to you? You have been spending a lot of time together.”
Phil nodded, “He’s real. And he’s just as impressive as I always imagined he would be, but he’s not…” Phil trailed off and fixed Nick with a piercing look. “Marcus, has the Director of SHIELD been dangling Captain Rogers in front of me as a distraction technique?”
Nick met his gaze head and looked only a little chagrined. “Yes.”
Phil frowned at him and said flatly, “It didn’t work.”
Nick grimaced and downed the rest of his scotch. “I can see that.”
Coulson straightened, “Director, I understand why you don’t like my attachment to Agent Barton, but if you actively work to subvert it again we are going to have an issue.”
Nick looked at him like he was an idiot, “Cheese, if it didn’t work with Captain fucking America, do you really think I could have any other cards in my hand that would be worth playing?”
Phil frowned. “That’s not the point, Nick.” Then a thought struck Phil and he felt like he’d been sucker punched to the gut. “Did you try something like this on Clint?”
“No.” Nick shrugged and met Phil’s gaze straight on. “When Captain America suddenly was an option, you can’t blame me for hoping you would pick the safer option. I thought about doing something similar with Barton, but… Hell Cheese. You’re my best friend. What you’re doing may be stupid and risky and confusing, but with it not being actually harmful,” Nick looked at the clouds out the window, “I couldn’t convince myself it was worth breaking your heart.” Nick sounded like it was a debate he’d had internally a lot “If it was anyone else... But if it was anyone else they wouldn’t be my right hand man so it wouldn’t come up.” Nick shook his head, “I still think you’re being stupid. But it’s six months of stupid where you haven’t gotten caught yet. Trust me, Cheese, I thought about it. But I know if you ever found out... well, trust matters in the field and since you and I are the only people on the field in the battle against HYDRA, I need you to trust me.” He leveled an authoritative look at Phil. “Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
Phil shook his head. “You really need help with your trust issues, Marcus.”
“No,” grumbled Nick, “I need a world with people who aren’t trying to kill us. Then I won’t have any more trust issues.”
Phil poured them both another drink. “It’s going to get better. At this rate, we’ll have a solid map by the end of the year, and then we’ll be able to start taking action.”
“That’s six more months, Cheese. A lot can happen in six months.”
Phil frowned into his drink. “Project Insight is not the answer, Director.”
“And with HYDRA moles likes a cancer within SHIELD we can’t risk it. I know. We’ve already had this conversation, Coulson.”
“Sir, regardless of HYDRA, pre-emptive strikes are not the right answer. It’s a slippery slope.”
“You think I don’t know that? SHIELD is supposed to keep the peace and protect the world from unknown threats. Burma burned because of a pre-emptive strike based on faulty intel. Cheese, you know I would never support that kind of plan. Between the two of us, we can save SHIELD and once SHIELD is HYDRA-free, we won’t need Project Insight. Just don’t go getting yourself fired before then and we’ll be fine.”
Phil took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He’d missed Clint so much the last two months, it had been like a physical ache that nothing could soothe. Six months was a long time and he was getting really tired of this conversation loop. “I know Marcus. Even if you didn’t remind me about it every time the topic came up, I wouldn’t forget. Protecting the world from unknown threats is my top priority and protecting SHIELD is a close second. But you must know by now that come hell or high water, I’m not going to give him up.”
“I know. You and your platonic sleepovers have made that very clear.”
Phil groaned in frustration. “Would you back off, Marcus? I know you don’t understand, but I looked forward to those sleepovers and not seeing him in two months has really sucked for me. I understand why the Director did what he did with Captain America, but you need to accept that I’m in love with Clint and start factoring that into your plans. I know we both put SHIELD first, but you’re also my best friend.”
Nick looked at him silently for a long time before saying, “Okay, Cheese.”
“I mean it, Marcus, not just words anymore.”
“When we land, you can use the plane to debrief with Barton. It’s the only location we can be sure isn’t being monitored. I can’t give you more than an hour, but you’ll be able to talk, or whatever you two do when you’re alone.”
Phil couldn’t decide which he appreciated more, the offered time with Clint, or the fact that it was the first time Nick hadn’t ended a conversation about him and Clint with a reminder about the danger they were all in. “Thank you, Marcus.”
Nick just grunted and resumed sorting through messages on his starkpad. “Don’t look at me with those big puppy dog eyes, Coulson, it’s fucking disturbing. Just email your not-boyfriend and ask him to meet you on the plane, would you?”
Phil smirked to himself and composed a proper email from Coulson to Barton. Nick was an asshole on the outside, but his heart was in the right place – sometimes he just needed a roadmap, a compass, and to be hit by a clue-by-four to remember where that was.
Fuck decorum.
Clint was waiting on the tarmac when Phil landed. Cognitively he knew that there were other people on that plane, but he didn’t give a flying fuck about them, he needed to see Phil again, to know that it wasn’t in his head, that what they had (as vague and undefined as it was) was real.
Fury and Hill were the first ones off the plane. They moved in sync with each other, Fury opening a door, Hill handing him a document, each having a perfect awareness of where the other was. It reminded Clint a little of him and Natasha. Clint waited. He waited for them to disembark, he waited for them to cross the tarmac, he waited for a sign that he could proceed. He breathed in and out and if he was anything less than a world-class sniper he would have been vibrating out of his skin with anticipation. Fury locked eyes with him and gave him a sharp nod.
Clint was off like a rocket. He knew he should be going slowly, but he couldn’t help himself. He raced across the tarmac and bounded up plane ramp. Inside the plane, down the hallway, up the stairs and in the boardroom on the left. No one got in his way and he made the trip in record time.
He burst into the room and Phil was just rising from his seat. A slow smile spread across his face until he was beaming at Clint and Clint couldn’t help but beam back. Separated by the length of the room and the boardroom table, their eyes locked and Clint had to fall back against the bulkhead to stop himself from rushing forward to touch him.
“Hi, Phil,” he sounded breathless. Why did he sound breathless? He hadn’t been running nearly enough to be out of breath. Phil was going to think---. His rambling thoughts were cut off by the soft timber of Phil’s voice.
“Hello, Clint.” Clint just smiled at him and he couldn’t have stopped smiling if he tried. Phil cleared his throat. “I, I know we usually wait until we’re saying goodbye… but I’d really like to hug you hello this time.”
Clint crossed the room with quick long strides before Phil finished speaking and had his arms wrapped around Phil before he had time to draw another breath.
Clint held him close and molded their bodies together, his heart rate slowing for the first time since he’d seen the plane approach.
Phil dipped his nose into Clint’s neck and breathed deeply. “It’s good to see you again.”
“I missed you, babe.” whispered Clint.
“I missed you too. Every day.” Phil tightened his arms around him and Clint felt his stomach sink because that was what Phil always did before he ended the hug, so Clint grasped him more tightly and refused to let go.
“Please, Phil.” He knew he sounded pathetic and whiny and he didn’t care. It had been two months of nothing, four months since they’d kissed, six months since there had been more than that, and he was sure as hell not letting go so soon.
Phil rubbed his hands in soothing circles on Clint’s back and Clint just wanted to purr into his touch. Phil’s voice was gentle, “We both know the rules, Clint. We can’t do this.”
Clint couldn’t believe Phil would be so cold to him. It had been months! “Please, Phil,” he pouted, “it’s been so long. Just one kiss?”
Phil squeezed him tight and took a shuddering breath. “I can’t, Clint. Maybe just one would be enough for you,” Phil’s voice cracked, “but I could never stop at just one with you. I want you too badly to be able to accept having you in small doses like that.”
Clint muffled his words in Phil’s shoulder, and hoped he didn’t sound too pathetic, “But you still think about us being more than what we are now, right? You still want me?”
Phil shifted his hips so Clint could feel the effect just holding him had on Phil. “All the time, darling.” Phil groaned and buried his face in Clint’s neck. “Oh the things I want to do to you, Clint.”
Clint whimpered and rocked their hips together. “Tell me, babe, please.”
Phil had to shift his hips away. He couldn’t handle Clint rubbing against him when he knew they would have to stop, but now that he finally had his archer back in his arms, it was so hard to let him go again. “Fuck, Clint,” he whispered, “would you ever let me tie you up?”
Clint groaned and melted a little into Phil’s embrace, “Oh god, yes please!”
Phil’s voice was hoarse, “I want that, darling. I think it’s because you’re always so far away; the idea of you not being able to leave…” Phil’s breath was hot against his neck. “I think about it all the time. I dream about tying you to my bed and keeping you there for hours. I want to fuck you fast until you come. Then I want to touch you, kiss you, and lick you everywhere until you are ready to go again, then I want to fuck you long and slow and tease you until you come just from me fucking you. I want to do it all over and over again. I want you on your knees sucking me off and looking up at me with those big blue eyes just begging me for more. I want to make love with you in the morning and go grocery shopping with you in the afternoons. I want it all, Clint.”
Clint was bursting with need. He needed more than he was getting now. Needed something more than promises to get him through this. When he finally found his words his voice was as broken as if he’d been crying “Please, babe, just one kiss. Show me you want me. I need it. I promise, I’ll stop us after one. Just one.”
The desperation in Clint’s voice almost broke Phil’s heart and he couldn’t say no, so he shifted his head, closed his eyes, and leaned in the final inch. Their lips just brushing together was like an electric charge and he couldn’t tell which of them made that keening noise. Then it was bruising pressure, clacking teeth, and greedy hands, desperate to touch more. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to. Every kiss with Clint was better than he remembered. It was like there was a maximum amount of pleasure he could remember experiencing and every kiss with Clint was a surprise because it was better than that.
Clint wanted to cry into the kiss. It was everything he needed to believe. Phil kissed him like he needed Clint to breathe and it was incredible. He let go of the tension that had been building up for months and let Phil ravish his mouth, let him bit at his lips, clutch at his arms and press him up against the wall. For the first time since New Mexico he felt at peace; and it took all his strength of will to push Phil away.
He’d promised Phil just one kiss and even if it killed him he was going to keep that promise. He’d never let himself be the guy who let Phil down.
Phil felt the cold air keenly and tried to push back to get more of his archer. But Clint had a good 50 pounds of muscle on his side and held them at a distance until Phil’s higher brain functions started to re-engage.
Clint was the first to find his voice, “Sorry, boss, just doing what I promised.”
Phil’s voice was painfully hoarse with need when he spoke. “We’ll find a way, Clint. I promise. When Nick and I go back to New York, I’ll talk to him and we’ll find a way to make this work.”
They put themselves back together and debriefed, sitting on opposite sides of the table, but there was nothing about work or the Tesseract to say that hadn’t already been said over the phone and they had one more hug before their hour was up. Phil whispered in his ear. “I meant it. When we are back in New York, I’m going to talk to Nick. I promise: I’m going to find a way for us to have more now.”
But Phil never made it back to New York.