"You'd think after being here three days you'd have opted for something other than a full out suit sir."

"And you'd think after all this time you'd understand the words 'maintain radio silence' Barton."

Clint smirked as he continued to keep his eyes on the one road down below. "Come on sir, you'd miss me too much if I listened."

There was a sigh on the other end. "We'll never get to test that theory will we?"

"Nope," Clint knew Coulson rolled his eyes even though he couldn't see him from where he was perched.

They had been here, hot middle of nowhere jungle in a country you were promised Malaria, for the last three days waiting for a man that had managed to land on the wrong end of S.H.I.E.L.D's radar. Clint hadn't left the tree he was perched in since first arriving, and Coulson had continued to reply at any point Clint said something so Clint was pretty sure the agent hadn't slept at all in the last three days either. That was how it usually went with Coulson, or at least since Clint had started working with him and it hadn't changed even after Clint was inducted into the Avengers.

"When this one is over I'm having the big—" Clint tightened his shoulders as a vehicle came into view.

"Barton Report."

Clint adjusted his stance. "Target confirmed. Front seat passenger side…I'll have the shot in fifteen seconds. What's the call?"

"Take the shot."

Clint took a few steady breaths until he had the shot and let the arrow go waiting to see the impact before grabbing his gear and sliding down the tree to take cover. He could hear the car swerve most likely from the driver freaking out. Clint made it to some thick brush and huddled down until he was given word. It was less than three minutes later the jeep pulled up and Clint jumped into the back behind Coulson and the agent driving. Clint didn't let himself relax as they drove towards civilization. After years of training he knew not to let your guard down just because a job was done.

"We'll debrief on the plane," Coulson said without looking up from his phone that somehow had service…leave it to SHEILD.

"I know the drill sir," Clint yawned.

"You smell," Coulson added casually.

Clint couldn't help but snort out in laughter. "Yeah well three days in a tree in the middle of the jungle will do that to you."

Coulson grunted. He looked tired and like he could use a nice back massage and bath. Clint frowned and mentally kicked himself before turning back to watch out behind the jeep. Not what he should be thinking…

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

If Clint was to pinpoint the first time he had an inopropriate thought about Agent Phil Coulson he'd have to admit it was the first meeting he had with the man when Fury introduced the two. Fury had explained that because no one wanted to work with Barton aside from Natasha, he was left with no other option than to bring in the big guns. Clint scoffed when the big guns turned out to be the completely unassuming man in a dark suit, not black, who looked like he was an investment banker.

"Agent Phil Couslon," Fury nodded. "Meet Agent Clint Barton…he's your problem now."

Coulson turned to Clint arched a single brow and extended his hand which Clint took. "It's a Pleasure I'm sure Agent Barton."

Clint had to admit that for a paper pushing suit had grip to his handshake. "It always is…those who deny it are lying," Clint couldn't help it.

"We'll see," Coulson let go of his hand and handed him a mission brief. "Be ready in half an hour," and with that he walked out into the hall.

Clint shook his head at the empty office in front of him. The man was all organized in appearance and his face gave off nothing to be read beyond the one eyebrow he raised. It made Clint want to push the man's buttons and see how far he go. How far he'd have to push to get the 'big guns' to lose his control that he heard the man had. He also couldn't help but notice the man definitely had a noteworthy backside even if it was hidden well by his suit. This probably should have been a red flag for Clint, but he was pretty good at ignoring those when it came to his of personal feelings.

Turned Out Phil Coulson was no paper pusher. Clint learned he was in fact an ex Army Ranger, top of his class in college, and could take just about anyone in a fight in hand to hand not to mention the guy was an excellent shot. This was not something that went well for Clint's initial flirting and mild interest.

After four and a half years the playful flirting and banter had stayed, but changed. Clint managed to call Coulson Phil when it was just the two of them or if Natasha was with them without getting stabbed, which was a huge win. He would never probably manage to be able to call him Phil in front of any of the Avengers, but he took what he could get. What started as Coulson trying to control Barton turned into Phil and Clint actually becoming like best friends…or as close to friends as people that worked with a special branch of secret agency had. Of course Clint had to go and ruin it all by actually falling for the stupid unassuming, but in reality totally badass, man that was his best friend.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Alright that's all of it," Coulson shut down the lap top he was using for their debrief.

"That was a lot easier than the last one," Clint rubbed his eyes.

"Less explosions," Couslon yawned from his seat across from Clint.

Clint grunted. The last debrief was after an Avenger incident that left a lot of clean up and questions. "You should sleep."

Coulson raised a brow. "You need to sleep. I wasn't the one in a tree for three days," he leaned his head back making Clint swallow at the sight of the other mans neck.

"Yeah but when we land I'm not the one who has to go straight into two different meetings before getting to shower and nap," Clint closed his eyes for a minute before opening them to see Coulson looking at him like he was calculating. "What?"

"How do you know I have two meetings once we get back?"

Clint blinked. "You said so before we left…"

"To Hill and you were more than twenty feet away talking to Sitwell…"

Clint shrugged. "Yeah I don't really listen when Sitwell's talking."

Coulson blinked a few times. He looked tired and confused which kind of worried Clint to be honest.

"Sir?...Phil?"

Coulson snapped out of it. "Get some sleep while you can," he closed his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest. Clint waited a few more minutes until he could see Phil's breathing even out and then closed his own eyes.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Before Clint went back to the Avenger's mansion he made a detour to the coffee place across from S.H.I.E.L.D's HQ. After picking up the biggest coffee they sold and a lemon bar he used all his stealth skills to leave the two items on Phil's desk.

"That's nice of you," Darcy, former student and now PA to rival Pepper Potts, smiled from her desk.

Clint shrugged realizing he was never going to get past her. "I was there anyway," it was a lie but Darcy didn't have to know that.

"Uh huh," she didn't look up from her PDA. "There's a car waiting to take you back to the house."

Clint gave a tired smile. "Thanks Darcy you didn't have to—"

"I didn't," she stood up and walked down the hall no doubt on some sort of mission to make Phil's job easier which was the biggest reason Clint liked her, well that and she tazed the God of Thunder.

"What do you mean—"

"For a man with the code name Hawkeye you really are blind…go home Barton!"

Clint rolled his eyes but left anyway too tired to pursue any questions.

When he arrived back at the house at around nine am everyone was in the kitchen. He rounded the corner and couldn't help but smile at the sight of Steve trying to teach Thor how to make pancakes.

"No you don't fill the whole pan with the batter," Steve was using his soothing teacher voice.

"Why is this," Thor furrowed his brow.

"Well you don't want— oh hey Clint," Steve smiled.

The rest of the people sitting around the table turned and gave their hellos.

"Hey," Clint gave a salute.

"You smell awesome," Tony winced.

"Yeah I'm gonna go fix that and then pass out."

"Don't sleep all day. I have a new arrow that needs testing," Tony said as he stole the paper Bruce was done with.

"Yeah yeah..."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It was nearly five in the afternoon when Clint made his way back downstairs to the kitchen and froze when he saw Couslon sitting at the counter in…jeans and a t shirt? Clint stayed where he was thinking he was going to wake up any second.

"Are you just going to stand there," Coulson continued to type on the laptop in front of him not pausing once.

Clint walked past him to the fridge and pulled out a soda. "Want one?"

Phil, because damn it if he's wearing jeans he's Phil, paused and looked up. "Sure."

Clint nodded sliding over a Pepsi and sat down in one of the kitchen bar seats across from Phil. "Have you slept at all," he was avoiding looking at Phil in his old black queen t shirt and nicely cut dark jeans. He had suddenly started to hate who had made Phil's suits because they hide a very defined body too well.

"Woke up about half an hour ago."

"Oh so you got what? Like four hours of sleep…they're spoiling you," Clint snorted.

Phil cracked his neck. "My second meeting was canceled so six," he signed off the laptop and shut it down before meeting Clint's face. "You slept?"

"Passed out after I washed three days of stupid jungle off of me."

Phil gave a soft laugh. "I didn't smell the best either."

"Yeah? I guess I couldn't tell over my own rankness," he chuckled and then furrowed his brow. "You didn't get to shower while we were out there?"

Phil took a drink of his soda and Clint had to work at not gawking at the way the other man's Adam's apples bobbed as the liquid went down. "I don't leave my post while you're out there in a nest by yourself."

"There were three other agents with you. You could have—"

Phil was giving him the 'what-you're-about-to-say-is-stupid' look so he stopped.

"Did you run out of suits?"

Phil's brows raised in question.

"I mean…I didn't know you had anything besides suits in your wardrobe…even when out of the office with you you're in suit. Hell, if I didn't know any better I'd have thought you came out of the womb in an Armani suit," Clint downed the rest of his soda.

Phil snorted. "Has it ever occurred to you that every time we end up outside the office together we are coming straight from HQ?"

"I'll give you that...so you went home before coming here?"

"This is officially my home base now. I was moved in while we were on assignment. I'm actually two doors down from you on the other side of Tasha," he sighed.

Clint's eyes widened. "You…are living…here. You are two doors down from me…in this house," Clint's head was reeling. He had a hard enough time keeping himself under control on missions and in HQ with the man but now…

Phil frowned. "I'm not thrilled about the situation either."

"No! I mean…I'm not…I'm just surprised," Clint tried not to let the fact that Phil didn't want to live that close to him hurt. It shouldn't hurt at all really…for fuck sake Clint Barton didn't do emotionally hurt especially with another agent. He schooled his features. "You never mentioned you moving in…Sorry you're stuck with us is what I meant."

"I've been stuck with you for years Clint now I have to get used to being stuck with the rest of the household…I'll manage," he shrugged and took another drink.

Clint bite his lip holding in the probably less than nice remark he was about to throw out. Instead he stood up nodding and tossed his can into the recycling before walking towards Tony's lab. He was becoming irrationally angry…this was ridiculous. This is why you don't fall for your handler who knows how fucked up you are…

"Clint," Coulsen called at Clint's retreating form. Clint could hear the confusion in his voice but didn't turn as he replied.

"Welcome to the house…Good luck managing."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Okay so that didn't work the way I wanted it to…try this one," Tony had given him two new arrows so far to test as well as a new bow that Clint could admit was impressive. He aimed down the range and let the arrow fly. Three feet before the target the end of the arrow turned into a thin, yet strong, net that wrapped completely around the target. "Perfect," Tony exclaimed before punching something into his portable Pad. "How's the bow? Good bad? Too heavy, too light…awkward? Give my something here Hawk…you've literally said less than ten words in the last two hours," Tony crossed his arms over his chest.

Clint looked up from where he was examining the bow. "It's impressive…even for you," he shrugged.

Tony scoffed. "I will really try not to be offended by that you archery snob."

Clint smirked. "It's got a good weight to it, great symmetry, and the scope is actually better than the one I have, so all in all I like it."

Tony nodded. "So you like the bow and the new arrows so that's not why you're brooding…" he sounded like he was doing a giant math problem in his head which with Tony was always a possibility.

"I'm not…brooding," Clint scoffed and put the bow down.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Right…well I'm done with you. Go away," Tony waved his hand already walking towards his lab talking to Jarvis.

Clint checked his phone and saw a text from Tasha.

N- Want to Spar?

Clint didn't even have to think about it.

C- Absolutely

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Clint closed his eyes and caught his breath on the sparring mat next to Natasha, who sat up looking as if she wasn't winded at all. She probably wasn't.

"So you gonna tell me what's going on," She leaned back on her hands and looked down at him. He recognized that look. It said he wasn't getting out of the room until he gave her what she wanted. "You fought like a girl scout."

He sighed. "Just tired."

"You're not even trying to cover your lies."

"You always see through them anyway," Clint murmured.

"Then why are you lying?"

"It's nothing Tash…really."

They were silent for a few minutes just relaxing in the quiet gym.

"Phil's all moved in next to me," Clint could hear Natasha was lying down now as well.

Clint swallowed. "Yeah he told me."

"So that's what it is. I thought you'd be happy—"

Clint snapped his eyes open and turned his head to face the amused face to his left. "Why would you think that's what's wrong?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Because when I mentioned it you tensed up, swallowed and had to control your speech…remember who you're talking to."

"Whatever," he muttered. "It's nothing."

"It's definitely not nothing," she said as she followed Clint towards the gym doors.

"It's nothing to worry about," Clint held open the door. "I'm starving lets order some food before Thor attempts more cooking shall we?"

Natasha sighed but nodded.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Okay…I'll admit this is pretty delicious," Tony said through a mouth full of pizza. "I take back fifteen percent of all the bad things I ever said about you Coulson."

"Tony," Steve chided.

"Alright, thirty percent," Tony took another bite of his eggplant parmesan pizza.

"It's more than I would have taken back," Phil quipped back from where he sat next to Natasha and Bruce. Clint had swooped in on the chair next to the other side of Bruce after pushing the doctor into the one next to the other agent. Bruce just raised a brow before taking the seat and Clint avoided looking at Natasha to see if she noticed.

"So Clint what's the verdict with the bow," Tony fit Clint with one squinted eye. "You ready to ditch SHEILD's sorry excuse for a bow for the beautifully crafted Hawk?"

"Hawk," Natasha inquired.

"Stark industries best bow to date aptly named for the Agent it was made for," he said proudly. "It's fantastic if I don't say so myself…which of course I will."

The whole table turned to look at Clint. Clint cleared his throat. "Yeah I like it. I'll definitely take it in the field."

"Good decision," Tony nodded and then turned to Steve. "Now when the hell will you let me teach you how to use a proper smart phone because the fact that you can't text me back is uncalled for…"

The table chatter continued. Tony and Bruce talked about science stuff that was far too confusing to follow. Steve and Thor made plans to go to a ball game which Tony immediately wanted in on, and Clint could hear Natasha and Phil talking softly but couldn't make out what they were saying…not that he cared.

He finally made it back to his room after dinner declining on a movie with everyone in the living room. He laid awake thinking about how stupid he had been to let himself fall for Phil. The man was nothing but a great friend and handler to him all these years, and Clint hadn't really had that kind of constant in his life. Phil and Tasha are the people he had and still has. He can't push Phil out of his life by making it impossible for Phil to be his friend. Clint would have to pull back, he'd have to cut the parts out that were to deep to make it capable for Clint to pretend at least…for Phil and his sake.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

For about two weeks Clint managed to avoid Coulson outside of the office which was quite a feat considering the man was living two doors down in the same house and he was a sneaky son of a bitch when he needed to be. It was one of the hardest things to do when he realized all the time he actually spent with the man. He had to stop hanging out in Coulson's office, he had to stop hovering near Darcy to keep Junior agents away, and he found himself a bit at a loss of what to do with his time not being on assignment. He actually got a lot of his own paperwork done which sucked if he was being honest, but it did help keep him occupied.

He helped Tony out with testing more, realizing just how crazy the man actually was in the lab. It was always a little less crazy when Bruce would come down and work with Tony as well. Clint spent time with Steve and Thor, showing them things around 21st century New York they weren't used to still or just hanging out. Thor seemed less surprised by some of the things than Steve. They ended up in a lot of museums and art galleries which Clint will admit were enjoyable when it came to occupying his mind, but he'd never see it the way Steve did. The most enjoyable part was Thor trying to understand impressionism. The three of them were escorted out of two different galleries for those outbursts…He sparred with Tasha like he normally did and kept his head in the game, but he always got the impression she was getting more aggravated with him as the sessions progressed. When he wasn't making his rounds with the rest of the team he was on the range where he could just be himself with his bow.

He was currently in a meeting about a target they had taken out two days ago via Natasha on the ground. Clint had basically been a contingency plan on this one, and he was well aware at the time he wouldn't be needed because well…it was Natasha. Sitwell was giving the rest of the junior agents the brief on the mission while Coulson, Natasha, and Clint sat there to answer questions. It was basically for training purposes, and Clint tried not to look too bored.

Clint remembered the assignment. He had spent the entire ride back from that assignment actively avoiding Tasha's looks at his one word answers to her and Coulson. He was being straight and to the point. What the hell did they want from him?

Once out of the meeting Natasha grabbed him by the arm during his escape and basically threw him into the elevator. Clint hit the wall. "Tash what the hell?"

She pressed the lobby button and waited for the door to close before speaking. "We are going to eat lunch and then you are going to tell me why for the last two and a half weeks you've shrunk back into yourself."

Clint clenched his jaw. "I don't know what—"

"Save it Clint! You aren't fooling anyone…anyone," she punctuated the last.

Clint furrowed his brows and followed her past the lobby doors and outside. "What do you mean anyone? I haven't been anything but nice…or nice as I usually am and in fact I've been nicer than—"

"Yeah we've all noticed…is Greek good? I'm in the mood for Greek."

"Yeah that's…whatever."

They walked the rest of the short trip in silence and sat for a few minutes after ordering before striking up again.

"So," she gestured with her hands for Clint to begin.

"I really don't know what you want me to say Tash…"

"Something along the lines of 'I have been closing myself off because…'"

Clint rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. You act like I started painting my nails black and listening to grunge."

"You're doing the Clint version of that," she cocked her jaw and then softened. "I'm worried…the teams worried."

"There's nothing to be—"

"Phil's pretty freaking worried."

Clint snapped his mouth shut for a few moments and before he could open it again to say anything the food arrived and he busied himself with eating. Phil was worried…well of course he would be if Tasha pointed it out to him. He was in charge of keeping Clint out of trouble and if Clint did something stupid it would probably be Phil that would get the heat from Fury. "You can tell Couslon not to worry. I'm not going to do something stupid. He won't have Fury on his back anytime soon."

"Seriously?"

Natasha looked like someone told her vodka was disgusting.

"I'm not going to do something—"

"What the hell happened between you two?"

"Nothing," Clint played confused.

"Nothing happened? So now he's 'Coulson' even with me, you avoid him like the plague outside of HQ, and you actually maintain radio silence…and you're saying nothing happened?"

Clint kept his eyes steady. "Yes."

"I know you care about him and I don't know what kind of fight you two had but—"

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes softened. "Clint how long have I known you? You stopped sleeping with anyone two years ago, you get him coffee even when it's out of your way, you threaten people that bug him too much around the office, you try to get him in a better mood when he needs it, you open up to him more than anyone including me, and you aren't good at hiding staring at his ass by the way."

Clint felt his face pale. "I don't stare at his ass all the time," it was the only thing he could refute.

"You do enough…but don't worry he doesn't know that, but the rest of the team minus Thor does."

Clint groaned. "Awesome."

"Would you like to tell me about the fight," her voice was soft but the tone was nothing to mess with.

"We didn't fight…"

"Then what happened?"

"I just...If I let myself fall anymore in love with someone who won't love me back I don't want to think about how much more fucked up I'll be, and he definitely doesn't deserve to have that shit follow him. I'm not…avoiding him completely. I'm getting over it so I can be friends with him again," Clint kept his gaze out towards the street.

"And you know for a fact that he doesn't feel the same about you?"

Clint scoffed and picked up the bill before Natasha could grab it. "He's stuck with me professionally heaven forbid personally…made it pretty clear," he got up from his seat. "I have to meet Tony for the rest of the testing on the last of the new arrows. See ya Tash and stop worrying about me, I'll bounce back. That's what we do," he kissed her forehead and left the restaurant opting to walk back to the house. It was a bit of a long walk but it would help clear his mind.

Had it really been two years since he had hooked up with someone? Thinking back it had been…sure he had relieved himself, but he never felt like going out and meeting anyone new. When the Avengers first became public there were tons of people throwing themselves at the team, and there still were, but Clint had started staying in more or bugging Coulson more after hours. Clint should have pulled away sooner. Getting that close to someone was never a good idea. Clint had learned at a young age that people leave and move on. They find something better, someone better. Clint didn't want to hate Phil anyway so this was good. Once he figured himself out they could go back to being close to best friends. Clint scoffed. That sounds simple Clint…right.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Tony and Bruce were in the lab when he finally made it. They were once again talking about things that made no sense to Clint, but the two were smiling and laughing so Clint smiled. He thought it was funny that the two were completely opposite in temperament, but fit together so seamlessly.

"Sorry to break up the make out session," Now that he knew they all noticed his changes in behavior he had to remember to start being his smart ass self again.

The two turned. "No need to apologize Bruce is a bit of an exhibitionist aren't you pookie," Tony made a kissy face at Bruce who rolled his eyes and turned to Clint.

"I'll leave you two to your tests. See you later Clint," he gave a small wave. "Tony when you're done I'll be working on that thing you wanted me to look at in the lab," he called as he made his way up the stairs.

"I will remember that you didn't give me a goodbye kiss!"

Clint could hear Banner snort from the top if the stairs.

Tony whipped his head back towards Clint. "I fixed the acid shooting arrows."

Clint winced.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Clint came down from showering that night to find a note on the fridge in Steve's writing.

Clint,

Be back by 10. The rest of the house

Wanted tacos and Tony wouldn't wait.

We are at the place we went last time

If you want to join us

10 was crossed out and 1 was written next to it in Tony's handwriting. Clint chuckled and threw away the note. Steve always left a note when he left and it still made Clint smile at the Captain's old fashioned sensibilities. Clint opened the fridge and pulled out the leftover Chinese from the night before that could feed an army, or Thor, and threw it in the micro wave.

"What are you eating," Clint did not jump at Coulson's voice behind him…he didn't.

"Leftover Chinese…want some," he questioned facing the microwave trying to calm his heartbeat.

"That sounds pretty good actually," Coulson sounded tired. "I'm gonna change."

Clint pulled down two plates and dished a bunch of everything on the two making sure to give Phil most of the beef and broccoli since it was the man's favorite. Clint frowned when he realized why he did that and then rationalized that best friends did those kinds of things. He finally turned around and placed the plates down and grabbed them both sodas. Phil had left the kitchen and when he came back Clint couldn't help but frown. The man looked exhausted. His shoulders were slumped, he had dark circles under his eyes, he was walking slow, and he was paler than usual. The two ate in silence for few while Clint fought over what to say.

He settled for his older habits. "Well you look like hell," he gave playful smirk.

His eyes widened a bit. "Yeah?"

"You look tired. More tired than you do after a long mission…"

Coulson shrugged biting into his beef and broccoli. "I'll survive."

Clint scoffed. "I have no doubt of that…that's not the point."

"What is the point then," he said narrowing his eyes.

Clint knew that look and tone. Phil was irritated…mad maybe. "I was just worried…you looked more worn down than usual…no need to get testy. I know it's not my job like it is for you but I can still be concerned," Clint felt his appetite wane as he became more irritated himself.

"What do you mean it's not your job like it is mine," Phil put his fork down slowly.

"It doesn't matter Couslon I was just," he sighed. "I was just commenting on the fact you looked tired. Just eat and—"

"You have to explain this to me. I actually don't get it."

It was the tone in his voice that made him look up at the man across from him. He sounded tired, a little resigned, and…lost? "What do you mean?"

"I did something…it had to be me. You haven't avoided anyone else…you won't even use my first name."

"You hate when people call you by your first—"

"I hate when people I don't like call me by my first name. Have I ever given you any reason to think I don't like you, any reason for you start avoiding me Clint? I know you weren't thrilled with me moving into the house—"

"You were the one that was less than thrilled you were stuck with us…made it pretty clear," Clint tried his hardest not to sound bitter but he was pretty sure he failed so he shoved some of the food he was not in the mood for into his mouth.

"I…," Phil blinked a few times. "I was joking…well mostly. I mean I wasn't excited to have to live in the house that Tony liked to build experimental weapons and help Banner blow things up in, or have to share a kitchen with a Demi God that has a love for the cooking things that are inedible. I have never actually felt stuck with anyone though, and I most certainly don't feel stuck with you."

"You have been though…for almost five years."

By this time Phil had pushed his plate to the side. "That was my decision."

Clint furrowed his brows. "Excuse me?"

"After a year of working with you Fury gave me the option of taking Sitwell's team and letting you and Tasha get shuffled back around. Tasha was going to end up with me and you would have ended up with Johnson and his team. I declined and requested that you and Tasha remained specialists under me and gave detailed accounts as to why we didn't need a bigger team because you and agent Romanoff were the best we had. I was granted what I asked for and you and Tasha stayed with me for as long as I was willing to be handler to you both. I was never stuck with you Clint," he frowned. "I'm truly sorry if I made you feel that way."

Clint tried to take it all in. "I…o…kay."

Phil sighed. "You have had me worried for almost three weeks and it's been my fault this whole time…"

"There was nothing really to worry about…"

"When my closest friends who is usually either unable to keep radio silence, is loitering on my office couch, scaring off the junior agents, pestering my PA, or trying to push me out of the office for dinner or drinks has taken to cutting himself out my life I worry," he crossed his arms across his chest.

Clint hated how tense the air was in the kitchen. "Miss me that much huh sir," he gave a cocky grin. One he didn't feel.

"Yeah Clint…I have."

"Sorry," Clint's heart clenched. "If it makes it any better I missed you too."

"Then why this? Why did you come and talk to me…told me what I did," he sounded tired again. "We could have avoided all of this—"

"This isn't the whole story for me…you couldn't have done anything. You don't understand," Clint snapped his mouth shut realizing he should have stayed silent.

"Then damn it Clint tell me!"

Clint clenched his jaw and looked at Phil who was now looking pretty fed up himself. "I have to cut it out of me Phil," Clint started almost growling. "I needed to pull back and let it recede before trying to get close to being friends with you again," he calmed his voice pretending to be talking to himself not looking up now. "I like our friendship…love our friendship. I love that I can tell you about shit in my past that aren't in files somewhere and that you don't look down on me. I love that tell me about your past and your family cause your sister and mom sound awesome and I'm glad that you get to have that. I love that we can fight and not really fight at the same time, and that we don't even need words to talk. I don't have that with anyone else. I have something close with Tasha but it's not the same. I love it and I…I love you, and because of all of that I can't be in love with you because even though you won't love me back the way I do, you'll still be my friend or at least I hope you will, so I am trying to cut out the pieces that hurt too much," Clint was a bit relieved his voice stayed steady, but he still didn't want to look up and deal with the fall out just yet so he gathered the dishes and walked to the sink and began washing. "I can be professional though. You know I can and—"

"Clint," Phil's hand was on his shoulder before Clint registered the man had moved.

He involuntarily shivered. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Clint," Phil turned Clint around and pinned him to the counter leaving less than two inches between their faces.

"Phil what are doing," Clint held his breath feeling his heart pound out of his chest.

"Something I've wanted to do for a long time…something I should have done a long time ago," he closed the distance and brought their lips together. Clint tensed at first but when Phil wrapped on hand around Clint's back and twined his other with Clint's fingers he relaxed into the kiss and gave in. It was soft and earnest. It was a kiss he wasn't used to, filled with more than lust or something casual. Clint felt Phil run his tongue over his bottom lip and he gladly opened up to the man and moaned when he felt Phil explore the inside of his mouth. Finally they needed to come up for air and broke apart, but Phil kept Clint pinned while he looked into the archer's eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I decided to try and stay professional when all it did was cause a bigger mess. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner that I'm fucking crazy about you and have been for a long time. I'm also sorry…that this has made us lose far too much sleep," he kissed Clint softly once more and then pulled Clint, who was stilled completely stunned from everything, towards the hall.

"Where are we going?"

"I haven't slept decently in almost three weeks and neither have you," he gave Clint a look that said 'go ahead argue with me I dare you'. "So, we are going to sleep, and when we wake up we will have a discussion," he pushed open the door to his room and finally let go of Clint's hand to pull off his shirt before pushing Clint down on to the bed.

"Maybe I should go" Clint got up from the bed ducking his head and making for the door. Phil stopped him with a head shake and a look before peeling Clint's shirt off and pulled him back down on the bed.

He kissed Clint again and Clint didn't think he'd ever get over how amazing it felt to Kiss Phil, or get over how good it felt to wrap his arms around the other man either. And Clint was right…that suit did no justice to Phil's body cause damn… "Sleep Clint…"

Clint pulled himself closer to Phil and started drifting into sleep hoping this wasn't actually a dream.

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Clint woke up slowly feeling warmth on his back as well as lips on his neck accompanied with warm puffs of breath traveling down his spine. It took a few seconds of panic for Clint to realize where he was and how he got there before he let himself relax again. Even if it was going to blow up he would enjoy the time he could. The arm around him pulled him closer and moved along his stomach making Clint shiver.

"What time is it," Phil murmured into Clint's neck.

Clint glanced at the clock. "Eight forty three…shouldn't you be a HQ by—"

"It's Sunday…and Fury made my take Monday off too."

Clint frowned. "He made you take Monday off too?"

Phil murmured. "I uh…he told me to come in on Tuesday without the murderous attitude."

Clint raised a brow. "Murderous attitude?"

"I haven't been exactly pleasant lately."

"Wait…you have a pleasant side?"

Phil chuckled and turned Clint around bringing his forehead to Clint's. "I missed that," he whispered.

"Missed what," Clint whispered back not wanting to break this moment he still was trying to believe.

"You."

Clint didn't really know what to say.

Phil opened his eyes and searched Clint's face. "I hate that you think you aren't something good enough to be taken care of."

"I can take care of my—"

"I didn't mean feeding and bathing yourself," Phil grumbled.

"I know," Clint grumbled back.

"You're not allowed to do that anymore," Phil had his authority voice that did all kinds of things the Clint.

"What do you mean," Clint raised a brow.

"I mean that you are not allowed to question this. You aren't some piece of trash that a bunch of idiots in your past have convinced you that you are. I let myself get talked out of pursuing you because it was unprofessional and I thought you would be happier with someone else, but I never really thought you would…love me back."

"I do," Clint couldn't help but kiss him. "I love you and I was never going to be happy with someone else…how could I be when there's you out there," he kissed him again feeling his heart beat faster.

Clint took the opportunity to kiss across Phil's jaw and lick along the neck he had stared at countless times. Phil let out a shaky breath as Clint continued to lick and suck across the other man's collar bone. Phil ran his hands along Clint's chest and arms mapping him out. Clint shuddered and froze in his ministrations when he felt Phil's length through his pants just as hard as he himself was. Clint pulled himself back up and plundered Phil's mouth while rolling them so Clint was underneath his handler. He spread his legs so he could bring the other man closer and when they ground down together both men let out groans at the friction.

"Fuck Clint," Phil moaned as he started kissing down Clint's chest stopping to take one of the archer's nipples between his teeth.

Clint jerked up at the sensation. "Well that was my idea yeah…" he pushed his hips up gaining a groan from the man above him.

"One of your best ideas," Phil mouthed into the skin along Clint's pant line. Clint tried not to jerk at the way it tickled and excited him at the same time. Phil lifted himself up and gave his most commanding look. "Pants off."

"Sir yes sir," Clint wasted no time freeing himself from the now tight jeans he had fallen asleep in. "You gonna join me or…," Clint leered.

Phil snapped out of the way he had been watching Clint strip down to his briefs. He stood up and quickly kicked his own pants off. Clint took the time to really take in the man in front of him. For a man of his age Phil was pretty damn cut and toned. He wasn't over muscular which Clint was glad, but Clint could see the evidence of training, drills, and field work along with the Ranger tattoo Phil had told him about before. Clint's mouth went dry when Phil decided to go all or nothing and stripped off his briefs. "You aren't naked," Phil crawled back on to the bed.

"You didn't really specify," Clint knew his voice was rough.

Phil hooked his fingers into the waistband of Clint's briefs and tugged. Clint raised his hips to help and gasped when the cool air hit his erection. Phil threw the unwanted briefs somewhere behind them and then moved back up to kiss Clint once again. When the two of them rubbed against each other without any barrier Clint thought he'd catch on fire. Phil moved along his chest again finally dipping down to kiss along the insides of Clint's thighs. When he felt Phil's hand wrap gently around his cock he may have made a noise close to a whine, but he will never admit it.

"You're gorgeous Clint," Phil's breathe ghosted over Clint's cock. "I've thought about this so many times…what you'd look like, taste like," and then he was taking Clint in his mouth and Clint nearly blacked out.

"Fuck," Clint gasped.

Phil worked up and down Clint holding the other man in place by his hip. Clint was panting and trying to hold still while he felt his orgasm coming faster than he imagined. "Phil," he breathed out. "Phil stop…want," he moaned. "I want you to fuck me."

Phil pulled off of Clint with an obscene sounding pop and looked at Clint. "Clint I—"

Clint pulled the other man up to his face. "You want to take care of me? You can start by pushing so deep inside me that I'll never be able to forget the feeling of you," he bit the gaping man's bottom lip as he fumbled for the bedside drawer. "Tell me you have lube somewhere around—"

Phil pulled the drawer open himself and pulled out what Clint had been looking for. "You are literally going to kill me," he coated his fingers in the clear liquid without ever letting his gaze leave Clint's face. He pulled one of Clint's legs up and wrapped it behind him before trailing his hand past Clint's thigh. Clint felt Phil rub along his entrance, and not realizing he had been holding his breath, he exhaled loud when he finally felt Phil's finger breach him. "Breath," Phil spoke into Clint's ear. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

Clint pushed himself down on the digit. "No it feels good. It's…it's been awhile," he melded his mouth to Phil's as the second finger went in.

"How long has it been," Phil asked in between kisses.

Clint grunted when he felt Phil's fingers brush his prostate. "Phil," he knew he sounded a bit wanton but he couldn't help it. "Please…just—"

"How long Clint," Phil pushed up with his fingers at the question making Clint gasp.

"Two years," he croaked out. "Two years," he said again shaking.

Phil let out his own shaky breath before pulling his fingers out. "Too long."

Clint could only nod as he felt the head of Phil's cock at his entrance. When he pushed in Phil silenced Clint's moan with his mouth and soon it was a blur. Clint wrapped his legs around Phil anchoring the other man to him as he pushed up to meet the even deep rhythm Phil set. Clint felt full and warm and like he didn't think he could ever give this up.

"Shit," Clint gasped. Phil had been hitting his prostate with each thrust by now and it was almost too much.

"Come for me," Phil snaked his hand to wrap around Clint's aching shaft while sucking along the archer's collar. Clint dragged his nails down the agents back knowing he was probably going to leave marks. He was so close but he wanted to hold on. "Come for me Clint," when Phil bit down on the junction between his neck and shoulder he lost it.

He came hard panting and with a low moaning of Phil's name, and after two more thrusts he felt Phil release into him and shake through it. Clint just pulled the man's face to his and kissed him with all he had, and Phil kissed back with just as much. When they finally needed breathe they stayed still panting and in the same position. It wasn't until about five minutes or so later that Phil moved to the side, and pulled Clint to him.

Clint kept his eyes closed relishing in the feeling of the morning sun that by now was quite insistent. He could feel Phil's breathe on his cheek and the sound of the man's heart beating under his ear.

"That rocked," he murmered into the chest his head was pressed into, smiling when he felt the chuckle rumble through it.

"Yeah yeah it did."

"I'm a moron—"

"Stop it," he slapped the back of Clint's head. "So was I and it doesn't matter. What matters is we've managed to pull our heads out of our asses—"

"And stick your dick in mine," Clint couldn't help it .

Instead of another smack like he expected Phil barked with laughter and it was one of the best things Clint had ever heard…he was starting a list and most of them were about the man he was using as a pillow. Clint smiled and couldn't help but fall into laughter along with him.

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"On a scale from 1 to 10 how bad is the shirt Widow's target is wearing," Clint had the man in his sights from his nest while Natasha infiltrated the ground down below.

"On a scale from 1 to 100 how many wounds do I have to inflict on your persons until you maintain radio silence," Phil sounded.

Clink smirked. "Depends on the torture method sir."

It was silent for about two minutes and then. "8…at least. The shirt is actually starting to distract his own armed gaurds."

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