Work Text:
A kitten on a leash with a black (SHIELD issue) leg cast is trouble, but a kitten on a leash with a leg cast around Lucky is even worse. All Clint was trying to do was show Phil how well the kitten was doing and the damned thing had jumped from his hands. “Aww, Tigger, no!” escapes his mouth before he can do anything else. Lucky tries to chase the kitten and instead of protecting it from further harm, he and Phil get wrapped up in a leash. Before they can even begin to untangle themselves, Lucky bumps the back of Phil’s knees and they both topple over.
Clint wraps his arms around Phil and twists them as they fall, so he’d take the brunt of it. He’s used to getting hurt, so what’s just getting a bump on the head and some air knocked out of his lungs. If only things were that simple. Phil wrapped his hands behind Clint’s head to (he thinks) protect his skull–he is currently dealing with a concussion, now that he thinks about it.
The instinctive flex of Phil’s arms to cradle Clint’s head, coupled with gravity and the floor rising to meet them, brings their faces together. Hard. Clint swears as his nose crashes into Phil’s and tears burn his eyes as his brain cries ‘man down!’ like it does every time he gets a blow to the beak. Something warm and wet drips onto his face and his eyes clear to see that Phil’s bleeding. It’s likely that one of them, if not maybe both, broke their noses on each other. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Phil–”
Lucky whines and pounces on Phil to lick the man’s ear to make sure he’s okay. Their faces come together again but this time, it’s their mouths that crash together. He won’t lie, this isn’t how he’s picturing it, and he’s pretty sure he might have just cut the inside of his lip on a tooth. He doesn’t quite care either. He’ll take what he can get.
He pushes in, because he might as well get what he can while Phil’s still dazed. (He knows it’s wrong and he feels guilty but this is a once-in-a-lifetime–)
Phil pushes back.
Clint’s heart stutters and he has to do a hard mental reboot before his body registers there’s a hand cupped behind his neck and he’s actually the one being kissed. He tightens his arms around Phil a little as a soft, content hum escapes his mouth. Reluctantly, he pulls back to ask Phil if maybe they can do more of this after making sure their noses aren’t broken. He only gets as far as opening his mouth when Lucky whines and scoots forward on Phil’s back to lick (into) his mouth.
He shoves his dog off him and splutters as Phil laughs at him, sagging into his chest. He wipes the slobber and blood off his mouth and yanks Phil up from his chest. The older man doesn’t stop laughing, at least not until he rolls them both over and kisses him silent.