Work Text:
“Barton, you comin’ or not?”
Clint hopped out of the bunkhouse, one boot already on, working on getting the second the rest of the way on. “I’m comin’. Jesus, you’d think the beer was gonna run out if we don’t leave right this second.”
Bucky rolled his eyes and nudged Steve with his elbow. Steve just grinned back and called to Clint again. “Not the beer, no, but if we get there early we can get an actual table, instead of holding up the wall.” Steve paused for a second and coughed, trying not to give himself away. “And we can watch some of the dancing.”
Clint stared at Steve in disbelief. Steve rarely watched or even joined in the dancing, so Clint knew his reasons were suspect. He was eager to go, though, so just let it go.
It had only been a little more than a month since Clint started work at the ranch, but two of the other hands, Steve and Bucky, had befriended him almost right away. After his first week, they had dragged him to the local bar to celebrate surviving their first ride and Clint had been glad to be included. After years of going from ranch to ranch for seasonal work, he was hoping Shield Ranch would end up being permanent.
It was the best ranch Clint had ever worked at (and he’d worked at quite a few in his life). The hours were decent, if long, and the work was hard and tiring, and Clint loved every second of it. All the bunkhouses and horses were well cared for. The food was decent and he’d managed to make a few friends. He hoped if things kept going like they were, that he would be asked to stay for the long haul.
Even the foreman, Coulson, was good. Usually, as the new guy, Clint was given the worst jobs and expected to be grateful. Coulson had kept a close eye on Clint that first few week, always making sure Clint was doing what was needed, rather than just giving Clint scut work because he could. It was in his second week after Clint had effortlessly roped and led a stray calf back to the herd, that Coulson had given him a rare grin and assigned Clint to make sure they didn’t lose any cattle.
During his first interview, Clint had been sure Coulson was just Fury’s good looking ranch manager. While answering Fury’s questions, Clint had found himself side-eyeing the suit and wondering what was hiding behind that sharp blue gaze. He’d found out quickly enough when Coulson had produced his own list of questions and a strangely in depth knowledge of Clint’s past. Clint had been shocked but had answered every one of Coulson’s questions as best he could.
On his first day when he saw Coulson come out to join them in a faded gray button down work shirt and well-worn jeans while yanking gloves on his hands, Clint had almost marched right back into the bunkhouse to deal with the surge of want that had raced through him. He’d managed to get ahold of himself and get on his horse, only missing the stirrup once.
“Stop daydreamin’ and get in the damn truck would you?” Bucky was already sitting in the driver’s seat, music already blaring.
Steve climbed in with him and Clint slid in back, glad Fury sprung for the 4 door trucks that at least had a little bit of leg room. “Seriously, what’s the rush? Hoping to get an early start starin’ at Stark doing his thing?”
A flush spread over both Bucky and Steve’s cheeks. Every time they’d gone out, both Steve and Bucky spent most of their time watching Tony Stark drink and dance all night. Steve didn’t dance, so usually moped into his beer. Bucky, though, would get out on the dance floor and get as close as he could. The amount of eye fucking that went on between them was ridiculous. Stark’s eyes never stayed on his partner’s if Bucky was out there doing his thing. Clint knew it was only a matter of time before the three of them finally fell into bed together.
Clint listened to them whispering back and forth for a few minutes before kicking the back of Steve’s seat. They knew Clint had a hard time hearing and he didn’t like being the odd man out. “Come on, guys. What’s going on?”
“Just trust us, alright? You’re going to like the reason we’ve dragged you out early.”
Resigning himself to the fact that neither Steve nor Bucky were going to give anything away, Clint leaned back in his seat and tipped his hat over his eyes. A short nap would mean he would be able to stay awake later. “Fine. Let me know when we get there.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When Clint felt the truck come to a halt in the gravel parking lot of the bar, he yawned and opened his eyes. It was only about a half hour drive, but after chasing a few rogue cows for most of the day, Clint was tired. He was in the process of sitting up when, out of the narrow slits of his eyes, he saw Bucky reach back to try and snatch his hat off his head. Jerking back, Clint started to laugh and then winced when his head hit the rear window with a thud!
“Ow!” Clint winced rubbed the back of his head. “What the fuck, Bucky?”
Bucky just shrugged and got out of the truck. “You looked pretty out of it back there, Hawkeye. Thought I could wake you up in style.”
Clint just grumbled and readjusted his hat. He slid out of the truck, following Steve and Bucky inside.
It was quieter inside than when they usually came and Clint figured it was because it was still early. Once it got dark out and more people came in, the music would get louder and so would the crowd.
Clint had always loved little bars like this. The music, was usually good, and the beer was cold and that was all he really needed. He could sit back and watch the couples dance and listen to the beat of the music and sip his beer and by the end of the night, he would be feeling mellow and ready to sleep.
He followed Steve and Bucky inside and shivered as the ac washed over him. “Y’all go find that table you’re so desperate for. I’ll grab the first round.”
Steve opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but stopped when Bucky gripped his shoulder and pointed to an empty table near the edge of the dance floor. “Come on, Stevie. We’ll have a great view from that spot.”
Clint just rolled his eyes and made his way to the bar. Since it was still early, there was almost no one there and Clint wouldn’t have to wait too long. Offering the bartender one of his patented charming grins, Clint ordered a pitcher and turned around to wait. He rested his elbows on the smooth wood of the bar top and listened as the DJ picked a new song and watched the dancers. The floor was kind of empty, but there were enough couples out there for a good two step.
It was as he was bringing the pitcher back to the table that Clint finally realized why Bucky had been so hot to get here early. Phil Coulson was out on the floor, leading one of the little blue haired old ladies in a two step and smiling down at her as though she was the only person in the room.
Coulson and his partner had their backs to Clint, so he quickly made his way over to Bucky and Steve and sank into the free chair. “I hate you both.”
Bucky started to laugh and Steve frowned. He couldn’t hold it for long, though. Soon he was smirking and pouring beer for all three of them. “No, you don’t. You’re pining after Coulson just as bad as we are for Tony.”
Clint tried to scoff, but Bucky just held up a hand. “Don’t even start, Hawkeye. We’ve seen the way you watch him when we’re out on drives.”
Clint sunk down in his seat, shoulders hunched, trying to make himself smaller, and sipped his beer.
Rolling his eyes, Bucky looked over at Steve. “Oh, for god’s sake. He stares at you too. Isn’t that right, Steve?”
“It’s true, Clint. Phil watches you a lot.” Clint just shrugged and tried to find the bottom of his glass very interesting. Steve sighed and filled Clint’s glass again. “Buck, is this what we’re like watching Tony?”
Bucky started to deny it, but Clint cut him off. “It is. And are you telling the truth about Phil, I mean, Coulson watching me too?”
Steve and Bucky shared a look, knowing they’d lost Clint’s attention when another song started. Leaning back in his chair, Clint tried to relax and let his eyes wander over the whole floor, but he kept coming back to where Phil was again dancing the two step, but with a different woman this time.
This woman was younger, good looking, and a good dancer and she could not keep her eyes off Phil. Clint didn’t blame her for that since he couldn’t make himself look away either. The pressed white button down emphasized the width of Phil’s shoulders, and the black jeans showed off strong legs and, as they went around the floor, Clint could see just how well they molded to Phil’s ass.
“Hawkeye stop trying to kill that girl with your eyes, and go talk to him.”
Clint tried to deny he was jealous but ended up just shrugging and resting his chin in his hands. “Are you serious?”
Steve kicked Bucky under the table, “Buck, come on.”
Ignoring Steve, Bucky kept his eyes on Clint. “Yes, I’m serious. And to answer your question from before, Coulson watches you all the fucking time. The first week it was just watchin’ the new guy, but now? Now he’s just starin’ at your ass when you ride.”
“I’ll make you a deal, Bucky. You two talk to Stark and I’ll talk to Phil.”
Bucky smirked and held out a hand. “Deal.”
“Bucky!”
“Come on, Stevie. We both want him and all we have to do is talk to him.” Before Bucky could say more Tony Stark sauntered into the bar and looked straight at Steve and Bucky with a smug grin before heading to his usual corner. Bucky swallowed hard. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”
Clint laughed into his beer. “Sure.”
They continued to talk and drink for a couple of hours, just enjoying ribbing each other and the atmosphere. When the guitar intro to Luke Bryan’s Move came through the speakers and Bucky grabbed Clint by the elbow and hauled him up. “Come on, Hawkeye, let’s show’em what we got.”
Clint let Bucky drag him into the center of the floor and as the DJ counted them off, he let the beat of the song flow through him as he tried not to look over to see if Phil was watching. Next to him, Bucky danced as though it was the easiest thing in the world, smiling the whole time, eyes flitting between Steve and Tony.
When the song ended, Bucky ran a hand through his hair and grabbed Clint’s arm again to make him stay. They made it through two more songs, laughing most of the way through Watermelon Crawl, before stumbling over to the table in need of a drink.
“Were they watchin’, Stevie?”
Steve took a long swallow of his beer and looked over Bucky’s shoulder with a smirk.
“Oh, I was watching alright, Buckaroo. That mean that little show was for my benefit.”
Bucky went stiff and looked over his shoulder to see Tony standing there, brown eyes sparkling in amusement.
“What happens if I say yes?”
Tony’s grin widened. “Then I pull up a chair and me and you and Steve start talking.”
Clint let Tony and Bucky’s conversation fade into the background as he looked around the bar for Phil. He figured even though it was Tony who approached Steve and Bucky, it still counted. When he couldn’t find Phil in the bar, he blurted out. “Where’d he go?”
Still wrapped up in their conversation, it was Steve who answered. “Who? Phil?” Craning his neck, Steve looked around and frowned. “I think he left, Clint.”
“Shit! Buck, let me take your truck.”
Finally tearing himself away from Tony, Bucky stared at Clint, confused. “What? Why?”
“I think Phil left, and I wanna see him. I’ll go and meet him at the ranch, but I have to talk to him.” Clint stood and pointed at Tony. “You can have my chair and keep flirting. They both want you.”
Bucky and Steve gaped while Tony’s smirk shifted into a shy smile. “Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?”
“Exactly. Now, Bucky, keys. I’m sure Tony here won’t mind taking you both home.”
Steve giggled and scooted his chair closer to Tony’s, one hand shifting over to land on Tony’s thigh while Bucky fished his keys out of his pocket. “Fine. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Considering what I think you’re gonna get up to tonight, that leaves me a whole hell of a lot of wiggle room.”
Before Bucky could retort back, Clint was hurrying through the bar and into the truck. As he drove, he tried to plan out what he was going to say to Phil. No matter what he thought of, though, none of it sounded good enough. When he finally pulled into the ranch, he knew he would have to just go for it.
After parking Bucky’s truck, and tossing the keys on Bucky and Steve’s bed, he raced to Phil’s cabin and pounded on the door. “Phil! Come on! I know you’re home!”
Clint heard footsteps and bounced on the balls of his feet waiting for the door to open. When Phil did open the door, Clint opened his mouth and nothing came out.
Phil leaned against the doorjamb and arched one eyebrow. “Barton? What is it that has you pounding at my door at almost midnight.”
Clint’s eyes roved over Phil taking in the open buttons of his shirt revealing the line of his neck and a small bit of dark chest hair. Phil’s sleeves had also been rolled up to his elbows, making Clint’s mouth water. “Um…”
Phil frowned. “Clint, I don’t know what is going on, but if there’s nothing you actually need to talk to me about, I’ll be going inside.”
As Phil started to close the door, words just fell from Clint’s lips. “Why did you leave? I wanted to talk to you. I was gonna ask you to dance, or at least to share a drink. Made a deal with Bucky and Steve and they’re there, flirting with Stark and you were gone and I-”
A warm, callused palm covered his mouth and Clint froze. Phil smiled softly at Clint and slowly pulled his hand away. “Do you want to come in?”
Unable to say more, Clint just nodded and followed him into his living room. He sat in the chair Phil pointed to and waited for Phil to join him.
Once Phil took his seat, Clint leaned forward, about to ask more questions when Phil held up a hand to stop him. “One thing at a time, Clint. You asked why I left, yes?”
“Mhmm.”
“I never stay late. I know Sundays, here, are more relaxed, but I like to get an early start on things for the next week in the mornings. Now, you said you’d wanted to talk to me. About anything specific, or just to ask for the dance or drink?”
Clint shrugged. “Both.” He could feel Phil’s eyes on him, so he took a deep breath and let it all spill out. “I like you, Phil. You’re good looking and a good foreman and listen to me and trust me and I want to know more about you. After watching you tonight, I really wanna dance with you. And also, maybe date you. If you wanted to that is.”
Phil was silent, just stood and took a few steps toward Clint. Clint let his head drop between his shoulders. He was sure he was about to fired and asked to leave. Instead, he found Phil standing in front of him, hand held out.
“I’d love to dance with you, Clint.”
Taking his hand, Clint let Phil pull him out of the chair and into his arms. They were just about the same height, so Clint was able to look into Phil’s eyes and it all just felt so right. “Music?”
Chuckling softly, Phil reluctantly released Clint in order to turn on his record player. The music started and Phil was back standing in front of him, one hand on Clint’s waist, fingers pulling him close. “Mind if I lead?”
“I’d like that.”
George Strait started singing about not hesitating and what dancing intended for, and Clint let the music flow over them both. He enjoyed being the one led and Phil was good at it too. In the middle of the song, the corner of Phil's mouth quirked up and he spun him once. Clint smiled brightly, enjoying the way he and Phil moved together. When he found himself back in Phil’s arms, he rested his head on Phil’s shoulder and just let himself enjoy the feel of being held by the other man.
“Clint?”
The song had changed, and they were still dancing and Clint never wanted to stop. “Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Clint lifted his head from Phil’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “For what?”
The hand on his back pulled him closer and then there was hand cupping his cheek. “For being braver than me and coming here. I’d like to date you too.”
Clint gulped and leaned forward, closing the distance between them so he could kiss Phil. “Good. Maybe we could start with dinner tomorrow?”
Phil kissed Clint this time, teasing a little and drawing it out. “I’d like that. I can cook or we can go somewhere, or-”
Chuckling softly, Clint smiled and cut Phil off with another kiss. “Let me take you out, Phil. I’ve got this great ranch job and have some money saved up.”
Walking them back toward the sofa, Phil pressed his lips to the corner of Clint’s mouth and then his jaw, hoping that if they made it to the couch they could keep doing this. “Pick me up after we’re done for the day?”
As much as Clint wanted to pull Phil down onto the sofa and continue kissing and touching, he also wanted to do this right. Phil deserved to be dated and courted properly. Pulling back a little, Clint started to untangle himself from Phil. “Yes. We’ll get the horses settled down and I’ll shower, then I’ll be at your door. Okay?”
“Okay.” Phil let go of Clint and walked him to the door, making sure to keep a little distance between them.
“Perfect.” Clint paused, half out the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Phil.”
“Goodnight, Clint.”
Phil was closing the door when Clint ducked back in and stole one last kiss. “Goodnight, Phil.”