Chapter Text
Takes place during the fic "Love Don't Die," the morning after Phil comes back from the dead. As Clint said, Steve made waffles.
When Tony and Phil emerged that first morning for waffles, they found that despite their worries, Phil was back, and for Tony it really was that simple.
Tony's fingers twisted through Phil's, and his eyes never strayed from the Agent's face. At the slightest hint of pain his other hand came up in support, just in case Phil stumbled. It took Phil almost ten minutes to convince Tony to let go of his hand so he could get breakfast.
The transition from blatant relief and joy to utter terror on the billionaire's face had Clint half out of his seat before her even thought about it. Phil gently took hold of Tony's wrist and wrapped the callused fingers through his belt loops, because even Phil Coulson wore jeans after getting stabbed by a mystical alien staff.
Tony relaxed at the contact, and Clint sank back into his seat as Phil readied two plates of waffles and eggs. They sat side by side, Tony very carefully pressed up along Phil’s side.
"Tony, you will eat."
Tony obeyed, to the others' astonishment. His eyes flickered up from his food to the Agent every few scones, and he didn't seem to notice his own mechanical chewing. The other Avengers engaged in small talk, Phil joining in every once in a while. Tony said nothing, eyes drooping. When the coffee maker beeped its completion, Phil stood, Tony immediately setting aside his plate to grab the older man’s hand. The two went to the coffee machine, collected their drinks, and sat back down.
No matter how they moved, they never lost contact with each other.