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Prompt Post No. 1
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This round will be closed to new prompts for a 24 hour hiatus once it reaches two thousand comments. Fills may still be posted. After another 2000 comments, Round 1 will close. Round 2 will go live one week after this
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Hey, you know what’s a deadly combination? Clint and arrows.
He pushes down on the irrational surge of hot jealousy. Tom can’t help seeing what Clint sees, after all.
Except... except. The irrationality rears its ugly head. Clint spent years slowly discovering the man behind the suits and the competence. And sure, both things are extremely sexy (and so is the field uniform, he won’t lie), but there’s also Phil’s patience, the quiet concern, the way he actually cares and worries for all the Avengers even when he threatens some (Stark) with his taser, the way his smiles are rare but always honest, the way his eyes are warm when he looks at Clint...
“Barton, you’re still here? We’re starting on the briefing.”
Speak of the devil. Clint slides off the gurney and shrugs. “Enjoying some peace and quiet. You should try it sometime, sir. Lie down for a while.”
There’s an edge to Phil’s shrug, but his lips quirk almost imperceptibly and he nods. “I’ll take this under advisement, specialist. Now, if you could please follow me,” he adds before turning briefly to the others in the room. “Good job everyone, your briefing will be tomorrow morning, carried out by agent Sitwell. Tom, Captain Rogers was particularly impressed with your actions on deck, he wants you to know,” he adds, offering a rare pat to the man’s arm. Clint could swear he sees Tom sway a little.
“Seriously,” he mutters as he follows Phil out. When he glances over his shoulder, Tom is making a show of fanning himself, to the general amusement of the nurses, who all seem to be flustered. Seriously.
“You okay?” Phil asks, shrugging at Clint’s look. “The fall looked quite real.”
The quiet acknowledgment of worry is not unwelcome. Clint shrugs right back. “I fully commit myself to the performance.”
“I’m aware,” Phil says flatly. He waits for a second, in case Clint wanted to follow it with a punchline.
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They don’t do this at work unless they do.
“So, when you said briefing, you meant...” he drawls, pushing his hips forward. It startles a soft laugh out of Phil, warm air huffed against Clint’s lips before Phil closes the space in a too-short kiss.
“You’re impossible,” Phil tells him. It’s a compliment, really.
So, Clint would like to point out: Clint, one. Tom, zero. Just saying.
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THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD WRITE!!!!
I adore this. There are no words to express my love for this fic so far.
Keep on going, please. :)
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I'm so happy you like it, the prompt practically jumped at me and demanded to be written. I just wanted to lurk, for once :D
There'll be more. I'm writing my thesis at the moment and this is an excellent de-stresser ;D
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Thanks for reading :)
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