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“Come to dinner with Melinda and I,” Phil said out of the blue one morning as Clint was putting gel in his hair, trying to get that mussed look just right. They were in Phil’s bathroom, getting ready for work. Phil had just finished brushing his teeth and was looking at Clint expectantly with a long piece of floss wrapped around his fingers. “Tomorrow night.”
Clint froze, turning slowly towards Phil, eyes wide and jaw slack. “What?”
Staying the night had been a recent thing in this fragile new relationship of theirs. They’d spent literally years barely touching, stealing looks and generally pining over one another like teenagers because they were both too scared of what could happen if they admitted their feelings. They’d only been sleeping together for a few months, and it was only a week ago when Phil pulled Clint back by his wrist when he tried to leave after sex, and told him it was okay to stay the night.
(To be honest, if it hadn’t been for that mission where Clint almost died, along with the little misunderstanding with Natasha’s “friend”, the two of them would never have moved beyond looking at each other longingly.)
And now Phil wanted him to meet his best friend and the single most important person in Phil’s life. Clint knew of Melinda May, had even worked under her once or twice as tactical support, but he didn’t know her beyond a voice on comms and someone for whom he had a grudging professional respect for. She’d always looked so unreachable, stoic and poised. Clint was no coward but May scared the hell out of him. Even more than Natasha did, sometimes. She was how Clint pictured Natasha to be in oh… twenty years?
“Come to dinner tomorrow night,” Phil said again. “It’s about time you two get to know each other. She’s my best friend. I want her to get to know the man I fell in love with.”
Clint blushed at Phil’s words. The L word was one of those things Phil kept saying and Clint had a hard time saying back. Not that he didn’t love Phil. He did; he just never knew how to say it without feeling like it’s corny and he was jinxing it.
Phil was watching him with those soft blue-grey eyes, and Clint just couln’t. He was still unsure if meeting May was a good idea or not, but he couldn’t refuse Phil. “Sure. What time?”
“Seven? That’s our usual meet up time. We’ll head out from my office together.”
“Okay,” Clint smiled, trying to not let his hesitation show. “It’s a date.”
“Great!” Phil beamed. “Come on, coffee should be ready. We need to get going.”
~*~
“Barton!” Clint turned to find Sitwell jogging towards him. “You free tomorrow night?” Sitwell said, then paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “Some dumbass probie is bragging about being karaoke champion to Woo. A lesson must be taught and we need all hands on deck!”
“I can’t.” Clint said, shaking his head with a grimace. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’ve got a thing tomorrow night.”
“Dude, what can be more important than defending your title as King of Karaoke?” Sitwell’s jaw dropped.
“Dinner plans with Phil and May,” Clint said with a shrug.
“Ohh, so it’s reached that stage, huh?” Sitwell nodded with a knowing smirk. He’d been one of the spectators in the Phil-and-Clint-are-idiots-in-love show, and being Clint’s second best friend, Sitwell had had his share of Clint’s whining. “Be careful, she’s vicious about Phil’s dates. Remember that guy… what’s his face… David? The musician. Phil told me he nearly shit his pants after having dinner with May.”
“Really?” Clint grimaced. He remembered David; they’d met once when he ran into Phil on his way to meet up with Kate for an archery date. Needless to say, he spent the entire time moping while Kate laughed at him mercilessly. It’d been during his first year at SHIELD, and it was then that he’d realize he was hopelessly, ass over teakettle in love with his handler.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ve never seen Phil this serious about a relationship. Plus, May has some high praises for your work. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Liking someone professionally is very different from liking someone who’s dating your best friend,” Clint mumbled. “But I suppose it can’t be worse than when Natasha met Brian. Remember that time?”
“Oh, yeah.” This time it was Sitwell who grimaced. Neither of them had ever seen a man being reduced to a sobbing mess like that. Kicking ass and taking names on an op was one thing, but Brian was a civilian! They broke up pretty soon after that; Clint wasn’t going to date someone who couldn’t handle his best friend. It wasn’t like they were very serious.
“Let me know about karaoke. As long as it’s not tomorrow I should be free. You never know, maybe I can convince Phil to come too,” Clint said, patting Sitwell on the shoulder. The karaoke showdown could wait a day.
“Will do!”
~*~
“It’ll be fine,” Phil said for the hundredth time that afternoon, but Clint was still not convinced.
“What makes you so sure about that?” Clint said, his words muffled by the way he buried his head into Phil’s neck. “She might dislike me enough to eviscerate me!”
They were waiting for May to show up and Phil had pulled Clint in for hugs and kisses as soon as he arrived at the office. Phil was leaning back against his desk with his arms around Clint’s waist and Clint nestled between his legs.
“She’s going to love you,” Phil said with a squeeze of his arms. “She already likes you for your work, and you make me happy, that’s all she cares about.”
“You have it so easy,” Clint looked up when Phil stroked his cheek with a gentle knuckle. “Natasha already likes and respects you.”
Phil rolled his eyes.
May slipped in with a quick knock. “Okay, hurry up and let’s go, love birds. I’m double parked.”
The drive to the trendy gastropub Phil frequented was quiet. Phil drove with Clint sitting in the passenger seat and May lounging in the backseat. Clint’s eyes kept drifting towards the back, hoping to catch some expression in May’s face but found nothing. None of them had attempted at starting a conversation, and Clint could already smell the impending doom.
“I’ll have a pint of the pale ale,” Phil ordered as soon as they were seated and their waitress showed up with the menu. “You?”
“I’ll have the stout,” May said with a smile. Clint felt his jaw drop. “Clint?”
“Uh…” Clint had to swallow for a beat before he found his voice. “I’ll have the same. A stout.”
Real smooth there, Clint. He wanted to kick himself.
“Their stout is really good. Better than Guinness,” May turned to Clint. Her smile didn’t fade and now her eyes were smiling too. “You’ll love it. Phil doesn’t like dark beers but I fell in love with it the first time we came here for my birthday.”
“Wha…” Clint nearly squealed at the friendly tone of May’s voice. He pinched himself.
Phil reached over the back of the booth to pull Clint closer by his shoulder. “So, what are you in the mood for? We both know the menu by heart.”
“Let me have a look,” Clint gave him a small, weak smile and pulled over a menu. “Hmm… Anything you recommend?”
“They’re famous for their wings and, of course, fish and chips. The owner’s an expat from Manchester, secret family recipe and everything. It gets pretty crazy in here during Soccer season.” Phil said, his fingers playing with the short hair on Clint’s neck. Clint blushed, his eyes shifting from Phil to May, who was watching them with an amuse glint in her eyes.
Clint was nervous as hell. He knew Phil was just trying to help him feel more at home with touch, but it only made him even more anxious. Phil was the one good thing in his consistently fucked-up life; he wouldn’t be able to bear it if May disapproved of him and Phil broke it off because of that.
“Oh, God. Remember that one time a Liverpool fan started a bar fight and the owner decked him?” May asked.
“Oh that guy! Yes!” Phil laughed, turning towards Clint. “So, a couple of months ago, the Man U versus Liverpool game was on while we were here. Liverpool was losing and this guy at the bar just lost it, jumped up onto a table and started ranting about how much Man U sucked. The Man U guys were trying to get him to stop, but the Liverpool guy had friends, you see—”
“Of course, no one knew who threw the first punch, but it was crazy. Phil wanted to step in and I was like, are you nuts?” May laughed too. “And then the owner came out from the back—the barkeep called him, I guess—and he was like, ‘what the hell is going on?’”
“He saw the guy’s Liverpool jersey, and this guy was still on the table, and you can just see his expression changing. Liverpool guy started shouting insults to the owner, and then the owner lost it too. He tackled the guy, knocked him out and toss him out of the bar.” Phil continued. “The Liverpool guy was at least two hundred pounds and the owner was maybe five-seven and a hundred and forty pounds soaking wet. I turned to Melinda and I was like—“
They finished in unison, “You think Fury would be okay with recruiting a Man U fanatic?”
Clint watched as the pair burst out laughing again, chuckling along because, yeah, he could totally see Phil saying that.
The waitress came around with their drinks and took their food orders, then Phil excused himself to go to the washroom. Clint looked at his retreating back a bit desperately before he felt a hand on his wrist. He turned back to find May leaning over and looking at him.
“Uh… Agent May?” Clint swallowed down the lump lodged in his throat.
“Come on, you can call me Melinda,” she smiled, and it was a friendly one, the kind that Clint knew she wouldn’t be caught dead showing at HQ. “We’re not at work here.”
“Okay…”
“Geez! Stop being so nervous, for Christ’s sake, Clint,” May laughed. “Has Sitwell been telling stories again?”
Clint must’ve had that deer in headlights look on his face because May started giggling like a little girl. “Oh, hell, the look on your face. I wish I have a camera.”
“It’s really not funny when I thought you were going to hurt me somewhere unpleasant for dating your best friend, you know,” Clint muttered, looking away.
“Okay, okay.” May held her breath to try and control herself. “I’m sorry. But let’s just clear something up, okay?” She put up a finger and waved it in front of Clint. “First of all, I’m glad Phil finally found someone he’s happy and want to settle down with. You don’t know him like I do, and you never met David. That guy was an asshole who deserved to be tossed into a Russian prison for the way he treated Phil.”
She caught Clint’s gaze, smile not fading one bit. “Second, I’ve seen the way you look at Phil, like he’s bee’s knees. I know you well enough to know that you’d die before you’d do anything intentional to break his heart. You love him, warts and all, and that’s all I really cared about.”
Clint blushed. “Am I that easy to read?”
“Only to some,” May shrugged. “Plus, it took Natasha and I too much time and effort getting you two to do something about this thing between you, I wasn’t about to sabotage my own work.”
“What?” Clint’s eyes went wide, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
“But if you do break his heart intentionally,” May narrowed her eyes, “No one will find your body. Ever. Nat will even help me.”
Clint nearly squeaked. May just laughed at his face. Again.
“What are we talking about now?” Phil asked as he slid back into his seat next to Clint, his arm sliding naturally around Clint’s shoulder. May was laughing across the table. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” she said, an evil I-know-something-you-don’t grin on her face. “Nothing at all.”
“Mel…” Phil warned, but May just waved her hands.
“Your boyfriend is adorable is all,” she smirked and nursed her beer. “So, have you guys finally gotten caught up on Dog Cops yet?”
Clint took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Phil and May—Melinda, now—dove right into the speculations about the season finale of Dog Cops, and found it a little easier to breath. Maybe he really was worrying too much. He smiled into he beer as he joined in on the conversation. Maybe things would work out just fine after all.