Work Text:
"What is that?" Phil asked, looking-up from his desk as Barton placed a large, perfect red apple on his desk.
"It's an apple, sir," Clint said. "The calendar that you gave me for Christmas says you should eat a red apple today and all those old movies show students giving their teachers apples.
"Are you implying that I'm your teacher?" Phil asked.
"I don't think I'm implying," Clint said. "You're the only person who ever took the time to teach me to read, that thought I was smart enough to get my GED and wrote a recommendation to Columbia ingot the director to do the same. You treat me like I matter. That's never happened before."
"Barton, I'm your handler," Phil said. "If I'm reading you right I can't date you."
"I looked it up," Clint said. "If I go to HR and fill out paperwork saying you're not pressuring me I can take you out to dinner."
Phil sat back in his office chair and looked at Clint intently. "Are you sure this isn't transference?"
"I'm sure," Clint said.
"Go to HR and do the the paperwork," Phil said. After work you can come home with me and I'll make dinner for us."
"Can I kiss you, sir," Clint asked.
"If you stop calling me sir when we're alone," Phil said.
Clint walked around Coulson's desk, leaned over and kissed him tentatively. "I'll meet you in the parking garage next to Lola after work, Phil."