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Phil rubbed his blurry eyes and refocused on the papers in front of him. Thor brought many skills to the team, but simple, precise English was not one of them. Reading his reports was like untangling Shakespeare at his most convoluted. It was late at the end of a long day and Phil was at the stage of exhaustion where words with more than two syllables were challenging so Thor's report was just one big headache in paper form.
He would have put it aside until tomorrow but his calendar was filled with meetings all day and he sometimes liked to leave his office before midnight. If he put it aside now it would be days before he came back to it and Fury wanted the latest batch of reports checked and approved yesterday.
A knock at the door disturbed Phil's concentration again and he looked up, ready to say something blisteringly irritated to whoever was disturbing him, but the words died when the door opened.
Clint Barton was having that effect on him more often than Phil wanted to admit to. Despite their talk a couple of weeks ago, he was still going back and forth between wanting this thing between them to go somewhere and calling a stop to it all. It was a confusing place to be and Phil didn't like feeling torn like this. Clint didn't seem to be getting tired of waiting for him to work through it, though, and Phil was by turns grateful and amazed by that.
"You know, Western civilisation as we know it won't fall if you leave your desk sometimes," Clint said with a wry grin.
"I wouldn't have to stay at my desk so often if you and your teammates completed your reports properly," Phil said.
"Let me guess," Clint said, stepping into the room. "Thor. You've got the Thor look. He's using 'forasmuch' and 'herewith' again."
"He's worked in three 'doth's and a 'perforce' so far," Phil said, allowing himself a small smile. "I'm hoping for a 'methinks' to complete my bingo card."
Clint held up two paper cups. "Then I guess this is perfect timing for coffee."
Phil narrowed his eyes. "Why are you bringing me coffee at nine in the evening on a Thursday?"
The only response was Clint kicking the door shut behind him and walking to the desk to set a cup of coffee down on Thor's report. He sat down in one of the chairs that Phil kept for occasional guests and grimaced.
"Shit, sir, these chairs get more uncomfortable every time," Clint said.
"I can't imagine why." Phil removed the lid of his cup and cautiously sniffed the contents. Slightly burned coffee overloaded with creamer. Probably from the pot in the break room, which he usually avoided on principle. "Do you have a reason to be here or are you just planning to critique my interior decorating and feed me bad coffee?"
"You said we could try going for coffee," Clint said, suddenly looking uncertain and, surprisingly, slightly shy. "I figured...coffee. You know?"
Phil swallowed his mouthful of terrible coffee. "This is going out for coffee?"
Clint shrugged. "Well, there's coffee. And we're alone."
"In my office." Phil looked down briefly at Thor's report again, spotting a 'forsooth' and wincing. "With security cameras. Barton-"
"Right, message received." Clint heaved a sigh and stood up. "Going out for coffee isn't something we do in your office. I suppose kissing you in your office is also something we don't do?"
It was tempting, incredibly tempting. Their kisses so far had been brief and Phil couldn't pretend that he didn't want something...more.
Except this was his office and the odds were that something would happen the moment they got within a foot of each other. An alarm would start, his phone would ring, a super villain would materialise in the corner.
"It's probably not a good idea," Phil said regretfully.
"So, I guess that puts licking, sucking and anything else fun into the 'not at the office' category too?" Clint said with a wicked smile.
Before Phil could say anything - not that he had any idea what to say because his brain had short-circuited for a moment - Clint slipped out of the office.
Phil shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glared down at his coffee cup and the incomprehensible report, wishing for once that he wasn't a professional.
He was fairly sure that professionals didn't just pile all their paperwork in the middle of their office and set fire to it.
***
The back of the van was too warm, it was cramped and it smelled of bad coffee and stale sweat. Phil shook his head at Clint's cheerful grin.
"No," he said.
"Why not?" Clint asked.
Phil gestured around them. "Because going out for coffee doesn't include surveillance equipment and bad instant coffee."
"But apart from that?"
Phil rolled his eyes.
"We have coffee," Clint said, holding up his paper cup. "It's just the two of us and this isn't your office. Those were the parameters you laid out last time."
"This still isn't a coffee date," Phil said. "A coffee date isn't something we do on company time."
"I'm multitasking," Clint said. "And lately, we haven't had any time that isn't company time."
His eyes were carefully trained on the video monitors as he said it but Phil could read the tension in Clint's jaw. There had barely been any down time over the last few weeks. Between SHIELD work, Avengers missions and the never-ending stack of paperwork those roles generated, Phil had barely seen his apartment for over a month.
The nagging thought that maybe he was hiding in his work was one he regularly pushed away.
"You know," Clint said cautiously, "we could always go for breakfast after this thing is over. I know it's a big step, almost like an actual date, but breakfast after an overnight surveillance op isn't in the same league as dinner at a fancy restaurant."
Phil hummed absently as he frowned at his laptop screen, which was displaying a trace on an outgoing call from the office building they were monitoring. That number rang a bell somewhere in his memory.
"Sir?"
The phone number was definitely familiar. Phil pulled over a second laptop and ran a quick search on it.
He swore.
"Guessing we're not talking about coffee dates anymore," Clint said. "Or dating at all."
"I'm going to kill Stark," Phil said decisively.
"Oh fuck." Clint glanced over at Phil's monitor and immediately picked up his phone. "Pepper or Steve?"
"Both of them. They can help me dispose of the body when we're done."
***
Phil took a sip of his overly sweet coffee. There was a thick blanket of cream floating on it topped with chocolate shavings. This wasn't so much coffee as dessert in a drinkable form.
"My coffee hates me," Clint said, sounding grumpy. "It wants to eat my soul."
"I'm drinking a liquidised cake," Phil said. "I'd take a bit of coffee hate right now."
"Why did we take recommendations from Natasha?" Clint asked. "She's a woman of extremes."
"Because your ideas mostly involve burned or instant coffee," Phil said. "And Natasha provided intel, not recommendations."
"Sir, that's unfair," Clint said. "There was that place outside Phoenix last week. The coffee was great."
"It was a diner that had been abandoned when the local plant life suddenly became carnivorous, mobile and capable of rapid replication," Phil said. "You made coffee with their equipment."
"I left money to pay for it," Clint said. "And a tip. That means it was a coffee date."
"It wasn't a coffee date." Phil touched his blue tooth earpiece self-consciously. "And neither is this."
"We're not in your office or a van, someone else made the coffee and there's muzak," Clint said. "So far, this falls within all your definitions of going out for coffee."
"Barton, we're in separate coffee shops half a mile apart."
"Well, if you want to get all technical about it."
"In this instance, it seems appropriate."
"I guess that means there's no chance of a kiss at the end of this date?" Clint somehow managed to sound both hopeful and depressed all at the same time. "Not even a tiny one?"
"We're on company time, Barton," Phil said. "That means this isn't a date."
"You know, flirting is a lot of fun, don't get me wrong," Clint said, "but I'm starting to feel like we're never going to get past that. Particularly if you're going to be so picky about what qualifies as a coffee date."
"Most people wouldn't consider my requirement for coffee and a location that isn't work-related to be picky," Phil said dryly.
"Most people don't have you getting all dry and sarcastic in their ear," Clint said. "Just so you know, that is incredibly hot."
Phil took a deep breath. And another. They were supposed to be doing something very important right now so he needed his brain functional.
"Barton, maybe we should save the chatter for later," he said. "I'm switching to the main line now."
"One condition," Clint said quickly.
"Yes?"
"We do the coffee thing properly next time and I get to kiss you."
"That's entirely up to you, Barton."
There was a quiet click in Phil's ear that he recognised as a line switch and when Clint's voice returned he was all business. He was absolutely not thinking about how good that sounded on Clint.
"All units, target just entered my location," Clint said.
"Remember tonight's motto," Phil said. "Small and human is good. Big, blue and furry is bad. Let's try to keep one of New York's undamaged eating establishments intact, people."
"Some people want to have dates in them one day," Clint added.
***
The wind off the water was cold and damp. Grey clouds scudded overhead, blocking out most of the weak, early morning light. Phil was already starting to feel chilled even though he'd only been out for a few minutes.
His right arm was warm, though, where it pressed against Clint's arm as they leaned on a metal railing together watching a boat passing below. They were sharing a huge paper cup of coffee, passing it back and forth, and Phil allowed his fingers to brush Clint's every now and again.
Sharing drinks wasn't something he usually did but Phil figured that if they were probably going to kiss at some point, arguing over a few shared germs on a coffee cup was probably hypocritical. Not that he had said that to Clint, but the warm smile he'd received when he brought the coffee over, took a sip and then offered it to Clint spoke volumes.
"So, I've been thinking," Clint said quietly.
"I always worry when you say that," Phil said.
He got a firm shoulder nudge for that, but Clint offered him the coffee so Phil decided that Clint wasn't really offended.
"I've been thinking," Clint repeated. "We're not on company time, we're not at the office and someone else made the coffee. There's no shop or music, but I'm thinking this qualifies as going for coffee. Right?"
Phil allowed a small smile. "Right."
"Which means we've managed one actual qualifying coffee date in nearly two months of maybe thinking about dating," Clint continued. "And just so you know, it's a stat that completely sucks."
"We've had a busy few months."
Clint made a sceptical hum sound and Phil kept his eyes on the water so he didn't have to see the look Clint was probably shooting him.
"I still call bullshit on that three week training course being mandatory," Clint said.
Phil shrugged. "Director Fury didn't give me any choice."
There was another quiet hum and Phil held out the coffee in mute apology.
"We've barely even been alone enough to kiss," Clint said and there was just a hint of complaint in his voice. "Not properly, anyway. Quick ones on the cheek in dark corners of a coffee shop because you have to leave right now for a long training course and can't even stay long enough to drink the coffee I've bought don't count."
"We're alone now." Phil chose to ignore the early morning joggers passing behind them. "If this is a good time for you."
"Just so you know," Clint said, "there is pretty much never a time when I don't want to kiss you."
The words made something catch and thump in Phil's chest. He turned to look at Clint and saw a cheerful smirk on his lips with a hint of something else in his eyes. It might have been shyness on anyone else. Their kiss was awkward due to the angle but it was slow and thorough and Phil couldn't help smiling when Clint moaned softly. He was slightly breathless when they broke apart and he had to swallow twice before his voice worked, feeling relieved to see Clint looking equally undone.
"Yeah, OK, we should definitely do that more often," Clint said. His voice was hoarse and it cracked a little as he spoke. "I'll still respect you after, if that's what you're worried about.
"I was never really worried about you," Phil said. "And I'm getting less worried the more often we do that."
"Damn right." Clint grinned, drank some coffee and put the cup in Phil's hand. "We've been not-dating for weeks and we can still work together in the field. I've also managed not to call you 'sir' or 'boss' once this morning."
"I noticed," Phil said and he had.
Admittedly Clint hadn't actually addressed him as anything and Phil was starting to think some of the 'sir's and 'boss's were more about affection than his job title, but it seemed to mark something important.
"Given all that," Clint said. "I propose we step things up a bit. Dinner on Friday."
"We've barely managed to find the time for coffee," Phil said.
Clint rolled his eyes. "You declaring defeat already, Coulson?"
"Just pointing out how unlikely it is that we'll actually make it to dinner on the first attempt," Phil said. "I don't want you disappointed if we have to reschedule."
"Rescheduling will be disappointing whether I'm prepared for it or not." Clint bumped their shoulders together again. "I still think it's worth a go."
The nagging voice in the back of his mind that kept trying to tell Phil what a terrible plan this would be was still there, but quieter than ever. It was getting drowned out by the memory of Clint's quiet groan and the promise of what this could be if Phil let their relationship progress.
Phil smiled and said, "Friday works then."
He leaned over and Clint seemed to get the idea, moving closer for another kiss. Their lips had barely touched when somewhere behind them there was a muted explosion. Phil froze.
"Maybe it's nothing to do with us," Clint said, his breath puffing warm across Phil's mouth.
A moment later Phil's phone began ringing and he felt Clint's phone vibrating where their thighs brushed together.
"Fuck," Clint said succinctly.
Phil shrugged and pulled his phone out, sending a silent thank you to whichever being had decided not to send Tony Stark to find them this time.
Yet, anyway.