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Phil adjusted the grip on his gun and flexed his trigger finger to keep it from cramping. He was crouched with his back pressed against a low wall for cover, and he could hear muted footsteps circling around from his left. So far he’d managed to stay out of sight and hadn’t been forced to fire his weapon, but his luck would hardly hold.
He slowly swung his gun around to follow the footsteps and nearly jumped at the sudden shout of “Coulson!” that bounced around the enclosed space. He whipped around to assess the incoming threat and was roughly tackled to the ground by a hard, compact body.
“Barton,” he wheezed, face smooshed into Clint’s neck. “Was that really necessary?”
“Widow’s up high. Couldn’t let her shoot you, sir,” Clint explained.
Phil waited a beat, but nothing else followed and Clint didn’t roll off of him. “It’s laser tag, Clint. You hardly need to lay your life on the line.”
“It was worth it to save your reputation, sir,” Clint said gravely. “Tony’s convinced you’ve recruited JARVIS to your cause since you somehow keep winning every round even when they all team up on you.”
“I appreciate your sacrifice then.”
“As you should, sir. I was about to take down Cap, and now I’m out.”
Phil shifted so that Clint’s unlit vest wasn’t digging into his side quite so awkwardly and cleared his throat pointedly, but Clint didn’t budge. Phil sighed. “Well, you’ve done your duty. Are you going to let me up anytime soon, Barton?”
“Can’t, sir. I’m dead. Rigor mortis is setting in. You’ll have to shove me away, but that seems a little cruel seeing as how I died saving you.”
Phil allowed a fond smile to flit across his face, though only because Clint was pressed too close to see it, and didn’t make a move to dislodge Clint. “I’m obligated to drag your body home and make sure you’re awarded a medal posthumously, at least.”
“That’d be nice,” Clint mumbled, letting his legs fall to either side of Phil’s. “You gonna visit my grave every year on the anniversary of my death?”
“I’ll even bring flowers,” Phil promised.
“I’d rather have chocolates.”
“They’d melt if I left them there.”
“Nope. I’m not really dead, see. Just had to make it look good and stay on the DL. I’d eat ‘em as soon as you left.”
Phil smothered a laugh in Clint’s shoulder. “You’re going to waste your fake-death stalking me?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want my fake-sacrifice to be a waste. Can’t let you trip down a staircase or something.”
Phil opened his mouth to respond but was pulled away from their banter and pushed back into the surrounding arena when Stark screeched, “Cheating! That’s cheating. There’s no cuddling in laser tag, Agent!”
Natasha’s voice floated down from the rafters, “Relax, Stark. They’re both out anyway.” With a start, Phil looked down between their bodies to see that his vest had indeed gone dark. When had Natasha managed to shoot him with Clint lying on top of him? “I told you the only way to get the drop on Coulson would be to throw a distraction at him,” she continued smugly.
Clint squawked in protest and pushed himself up onto his elbows to shout back, “Uncalled for, Nat! I feel so used now.”
“Bruce came up with the plan, actually,” Steve offered haltingly, somewhere behind Phil and Clint’s position. The pew pew of a laser gun sounded from the same direction, and Phil heard Tony cackling triumphantly.
“I thought our endeavor was to be a matchmaking ploy?” Thor’s voice, easily capable of filling a room unheeded, was broadcast throughout the arena from the observation deck.
Bruce, watching from his lab, chimed in, “They would have kissed by now if Tony hadn’t interrupted.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Tony shot back. “I refuse to take the fall for Barton’s complete and utter lack of game. He’s the one that can never get it past the sickening flirty stage.”
Clint dropped back down on Phil’s chest, laughing quietly. Phil bumped his nose into Clint’s cheek and muttered into his ear, “I take it they haven’t found us out then?”
“Nat thinks I’m still pining hopelessly, mooning over a covert picture while I walk around my apartment in a borrowed sweatshirt.”
“Stolen sweatshirt,” Phil amended. “And I caught you doing that last week.”
Clint lifted his head and tilted it so that they were nose-to-nose. “You were on a mission.”
“For two days,” Phil drawled incredulously.
“They were a lonely two days. I was destitute.”
Phil raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I thought for sure by now Tony would have caught me leaving your floor at a suspect hour.”
“JARVIS really likes you. This is why Tony is suspicious of your laser tag prowess.”
“Given that they’re plotting to get us together, it’s probably time to tell them. Are you up for putting on a little show?”
Clint ground his hips down into Phil’s with a mischievous smirk, the swell of his erection warm against Phil’s belly. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Phil let an air of challenge settle over his features, and when Clint’s eyes widened in shocked pleasure, Phil reached around to grip Clint’s ass and surged upward to mash their mouths together.
Clint eagerly pushed him back down, licking at the seam of Phil’s lips while he began to slowly rock his hips with shallow thrusts.
Phil moved his other hand up into Clint’s hair, fisting a handful and yanking Clint’s head back so that he could bite down his throat. Clint moaned, and with his mouth not otherwise occupied, it echoed easily.
Thor’s booming laughter soon followed. “Most excellent! Our scheme has born great fruit!”
“My eyes!” Tony wailed. “JARVIS turn their vests back on so I can shoot them!”
“I’m sorry, sir,” JARVIS’s cultured voice replied. “But was this not the desired outcome of this experiment?”
“Pretty sure we missed something here,” Bruce commented.
Natasha muttered something rude in Russian. “I’m recording this,” she stated deadpan. “I hope you’re enjoying it as much as all of SHIELD is about to.”
“Really guys,” Steve butted in, “It’s our own fault for instigating this. Granted, they don’t have to be so smug about it.”
Phil bucked his hips suddenly and flipped them over. He looked up briefly, his eyes sweeping over the black-lit room before he redirected them to the ceiling. “JARVIS?”
“Right away, sir.”
The room went completely dark, and amidst Tony’s cries of, “I knew it! Fucking traitor, J!” and Steve ordering everyone from the room in his Avengers Assemble-voice, Clint took it as tacit permission to undo Phil’s fly and palm his cock. Phil lowered his head and smiled against Clint’s lips briefly, then set to work stripping Clint.