Chapter Text
Clint wakes to the sound of an incoming text and his phone vibrating noisily against the night stand. Next to him, Phil makes an unhappy noise and burrows under the covers. Clint grins. A few weeks ago, he'd found this awesome cartoon noise of an arrow being fired - twang, whoosh - and immediately set it as his text alert. Every time Phil hears it, he makes this annoyed/fond/exasperated face that he reserves just for Clint. Clint loves it.
He thumbs the phone on, ready to berate whoever interrupted morning cuddle time, then grins when he reads the message from Bucky. He's never seen two people who are so clearly into each other move so slowly, but it's kind of adorable.
"Whassit?" Phil grumbles. Speaking of adorable. Phil can be awake and shooting with deadly accuracy in two seconds if the situation warrants, but when he's safe and comfortable it's like getting a toddler up from a nap. He's grumpy.
"Cap's being a cocktease," Clint informs him. Phil pokes his head out, wide-eyed. It kind of reminds Clint of a prairie dog, and he snickers. "Shirtless baking," he explains seriously.
Phil goes kind of glassy-eyed, and Clint can't even blame him. Steve's not really his type, but you'd have to be dead not to appreciate the visual. Speaking of which ... He switches to a new message and texts Natasha. If u go knock on Steve's door rn u will love me 4ever.
Do not use chatspeak on me, Natasha responds. Clint rolls his eyes. Then, Why? What's going on?
Sexual tension! he replies, then fills her in on the conversation before she can yell at him again.
If you ruin this for them I will kill you. So much for no yelling.
I am being helpful! Clint protests. I will die of old age before either of them makes a move.
You're already old, Nat says. Clint makes an outraged noise, and Phil finally kicks free of the blankets, peering at him curiously. Before he can respond, Natasha continues. Bucky will make a move soon.
$5 says he doesn't, Clint says. You didn't hear him freaking out.
You're on. There's a pause, during which Clint gets a little distracted by Phil stretching. By the time he looks again, Natasha's added, I have to go set up for training. Let me know if there's any progress.
Phil rolls over and flops across Clint's chest, pinning one of his arms down in the process. He tosses the phone aside and uses his free hand to pet Phil's hair. It's soft and silky, and playing with it always makes Phil go boneless.
"I tried to tell Bucky he's going to have to make the first move, but no one ever listens to me," Clint says. "Also, if I'm wrong and Cap actually has some game, I'm gonna lose five bucks."
"Poor baby," Phil mutters into Clint's chest. "Steve's not exactly a coward, you know."
"Mm." Clint rubs his fingers against Phil's cheek, enjoying the contrast of smooth skin and rough stubble. Unlike his hair, it's mostly grey, and Clint's self-aware enough to admit that he finds it strangely attractive. It might have something to do with his kink for maturity and competence. Then again, everything about Phil does it for him. "I like your stubble." Were they talking about something?
Phil wriggles closer and rubs his face on Clint's neck, making him laugh. "I've noticed. Why are you so invested in Bucky and Steve?"
"I'm not sure," Clint says thoughtfully. "I guess it's just so obvious that they make each other happy. I mean, Steve was getting better, but he still sort of wandered around looking lost half the time. And Bucky was barely even living when I met him. They both seem so much better now."
"You had a lot to do with that, you know," Phil says quietly. "None of this would have happened to Bucky if not for you."
Clint shrugs uncomfortably. "I dunno. I was just trying to make a friend. Can we not talk about this?"
Phil props his chin on Clint's chest and peers into his eyes. "I'm not allowed to compliment you?" He leans in and gently kisses each of Clint's eyelids. "To tell you how gorgeous your eyes are?" Another kiss, on the tip of Clint's nose. "Or how cute your nose is?"
Clint's horrified to feel himself blushing.
Phil reaches up and catches Clint's hand, guiding it to his mouth. He kisses Clint's index finger, a hint of tongue making Clint's breath stutter.
"I love your hands," Phil continues. "Everyone talks about the arms - and they are fantastic - but your hands ... " The tip of Clint's middle finger disappears between Phil's lips. "I've had fantasies about these hands."
Clint makes an embarrassingly breathy noise.
Phil moves on to the next finger, nibbling gently. "You don't know what it was like, watching these fingers change my bandages and feed me soup, not being able to do anything about how hot it made me. I've never seen you be so gentle. All that restrained strength." Clint's pinky receives a sharp little bite, making him gasp. "I thought you were teasing me. But you really don't see it, do you? How amazing you are."
Phil sucks Clint's thumb into his mouth, doing something filthy with his tongue, and Clint whimpers. If he wasn't wearing boxers, he'd be leaking all over the sheets. Fuck, he's never seen Phil like this.
Phil releases Clint's thumb with a pop. "The first time you kissed me, I thought I was dreaming again." He licks into Clint's mouth, hot and dirty, laughing when Clint chases him as he pulls away.
"But I want you to know," Phil says quietly, resting their foreheads together, "that as beautiful as you are, it's not what I like most about you. I love your mind; you're so much smarter than you think you are, and you can see your way out of any problem. I love that you can be so kind, despite how little kindness life has shown you. I love how compassionate you are, the way you spent weeks taking care of me and how much you care about Steve and Bucky."
"Jesus, Phil," Clint whispers. He can feel hot tears trickling down his cheeks and he tries to hide his face, but Phil just kisses them away. No one has ever talked to him like this, like he's worth something. He's heard about his arms and his ass, but never his brain.
Phil settles himself fully on top of Clint, and he's so hard, fuck, they're both so hard. Phil rocks their hips together as he murmurs in Clint's ear. "I love everything about you, Clint, even when you're driving me crazy. I love you."
Phil ducks his head and bites Clint's nipple, and Clint comes so hard that his vision goes grey at the edges. Phil grinds against him one last time, then stills and collapses with a moan.
"Oh my god," Clint says, laughing. He feels a little high. The combination of the words and Phil ... They're both still wearing underwear (and a t-shirt, in Phil's case), but that might be the best orgasm he's ever had. "That was amazing." There's no response, and he jostles Phil a little, alarmed by the way he's become a dead weight. "Phil? Are you okay? Did you hurt your - "
"Barton," Phil says, lifting his head just enough to give Clint a cranky glare, "please shut up. You're ruining the afterglow."
Clint chuckles, brushing aside Phil's sweaty hair to plant a kiss on his forehead. "Yes, dear," he sasses. He's going to start feeling gross soon, and they'll have to get up and start their day. But right now, Phil's alive and whole and kind of squashing him, and it couldn't be any more perfect. "By the way, I love you, too."