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Clint rubbed his palms nervously on his jeans, doing his best to tamp down on the urge to run as Phil knocked on the door in front of them. It was going to be fine. He was going to be fine. It was just meeting the parents. People did that all the time, right?
“Breathe,” Phil said, reaching down to take one of Clint’s hands in his own. He gave it a squeeze and Clint did as ordered, taking a deep breath. “Better?”
“Yeah,” Clint replied, giving his fiance a small smile. “I’m just nervous, you know?”
Phil nodded because he knew. It wasn’t like Clint had been quiet about it. He’d almost said no when Phil asked him to come home with him for Christmas after all. Jumping off of an exploding building he was fine with, but meeting the parents? Not so much.
“They’re going to love you,” Phil said, just as he had every other time Clint complained about nerves. “I know you’re going to anyway, but there’s nothing to worry about.”
Before Clint could say anything else, the door opened. Phil’s mother — recognizable from her resemblance to her son and the picture of her Phil had on his desk — stood in the doorway, a huge smile on her face, and his father stood behind her. She immediately zeroed in on Clint, reaching out to pull him into an almost crushing hug.
Clint turned his head to see Phil beaming at the two of them, and it was obvious that for all he’d been doing to soothe Clint’s nerves the past few weeks, he’d been nervous. That, more than anything, helped Clint relax into the hug and let Mrs. Coulson’s excitement wash over him.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said once they finally parted, letting her husband step up to shake Clint’s hand. “I’m glad you two could come for Christmas.”
“Me too,” Clint replied with a smile, and found he really did mean it.