Fanfiction: Something Stupid
Title: Something Stupid
Summary: “We drop into a quiet little place
And have a drink or two
And then I go and spoil it all
By saying something stupid
Like I love you”
Rating: PG
Pairing: Phil Coulson / Clint Barton
Fandom: Avengers
Author Note: Thanks to inside_the_veil for being my beta for this! And to everyone who gave me encouraging comments to write a fic for this pairing. It only took me way too much time. XD Please enjoy!
AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/489748
“Coulson, I remember telling you that you have holidays. I would please ask you to do me the favour to take them,” Fury’s voice came from the door of his office. Phil looked up in surprise, raising an eyebrow at the other man and then looking back down at his papers. There was still so much left to do and he hated it when he left the office leaving things undone.
“Those papers can wait until you come back Coulson, oh and please take Barton with you. He’s still on the range,” and with those words Fury left and Phil just stared at the doorway, wondering if, Fury was starting to pick up on his sneaking up tactics. Shaking his head, he was ready to reach out for the next stack of papers as he could hear Fury’s voice call out again. “Now, Coulson, not tomorrow morning.”
Grumbling under his breath, Phil carefully got up from his chair. He looked over his desk again, guessing there was nothing he could do right now and then pushed his chair back turning to leave.
Fury had something about Barton still being still there again. Another someone who didn’t understand the meaning of the word holidays.
As Fury had predicted, Barton was indeed still on the range, bow in his hands. Phil watched him for a moment and then slowly stepped inside of the area, not wanting to surprise Barton and in process have an arrow stuck in his chest.
“Barton,” he called out softly. Barton didn’t reply, and Phil tried calling out for him again to no avail.
“Clint,” Phil ended calling out instead, his voice softer this time, more subdued. He hadn’t called Barton like this since... he shook his head, quickly pushing the memory back out of his mind. That was in the past and he was sure Barton wasn’t interested anymore. Not after how he had seen him talk to Natasha. She could probably offer him more than he would be ever able to.
This, however, seemed to have gotten Barton’s attention. He had turned his face around slowly, his whole body tense, expression composed. Within seconds Clint visibly relaxed and then grew so exhausted. It was the most unguarded expression he had seen on Barton’s face in a long time. It made Phil wonder if he was sleeping and was just having some kind of recollection of a memory, where nothing was hidden between them.
“Fury sent me to remind you that you have holidays, which apparently means leaving SHIELD facilities,” Phil said calmly, his own expression still composed.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on holidays as well?” Barton asked, and Phil couldn’t hide the smile that was tugging at the corner of his lips this time. Bowing his head to keep his expression hidden, Phil did his best to collect himself again.
“Touche Barton,” Phil eventually replied when he was sure that his voice would sound somewhat even again. When he looked back at Barton the other man was smiling as well, and Phil found himself suddenly rather drawn to it. The moment got broken ,however, as Clint, (when had he turned into Clint?), turned back to shoot again.
“Come on Barton, time to go home,” Phil pointed out, his voice a little bit more serious now, turning around to leave. He spotted Barton’s bags by the wall of the room, relieved to see that the man had at least had some point thought about leaving for his expected holidays.
He was almost through the door when Barton’s voice came quietly from behind him.
“I don’t have anywhere to go,” it was so quiet that Phil hardly heard it, and every normal human being would probably have ignored it and instead listened to the swooshing sound of the next arrow flying through the air and hitting the target.
“What do you mean?” Phil asked in confusion, turning back around to face Barton.
“It means I don’t have anywhere to go,” Barton repeated, his voice more composed this time and the next arrow hitting a target again.
“I am sure you have a home to go to Barton; go there, have a few drinks and attempt not to shoot anyone for a while,” Phil replied, still not managing to make any sense of this.
“Are you really that dense,” Barton snarled, and he turned to face Phil, bow and arrow still in his hands. “I have stayed at SHIELD ever since I have started working here. I don’t have my own place, and no, I am not together with Natasha like everyone presumes I am. And she is off to Russia, so the idea of bunking with her isn’t really an option.”
For a moment Phil just stood there motionless, wondering if Barton was angry enough to shoot him on the spot. When he repeated the speech in his mind, only a few words seemed to have stuck. In which Clint said that he didn’t have a place to stay, and that he currently wasn’t in relationship with Natasha. It only took a few more seconds before he came up with a plan. It was a stupid plan, but he didn’t care, the couch would have to suffice.
“Grab your things; you’re coming with me. I won’t have myself be fired because you’re incapable of following rules,” Phil ordered, crossing his arms to look at Clint with a serious, calm expression that he used on people when he was sure what he wanted and wasn’t going to be messed with. Clint only blinked a few times, folded his bow together, came over and reached down for his bag.
Neither said another word as they walked down to the parking lot and got into Phil’s car. The silence continued during the drive to Phil’s flat. They had done this several times before, usually bantering or recounting the mission they had just come from. Faces bruised, well Clint’s mostly with the trouble he got into, bodies exhausted and minds ready to simply act like they were normal human beings. It had never been this uncomfortable silence before and Phil didn’t know what to do about it.
However, since the last time they had been here together everything had changed so dramatically. Letting out a small sigh, Phil parked in his usual parking lot before moving to get out of the car. He looked behind him for a moment to make sure that Clint wasn’t suddenly planning to run off and then unlocked the front door. Stepping into the hallway, he walked over to the elevator, leaning against the wall as he waited for it to come. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared up at the numbers slowly counting down to the main floor.
“If you’d rather, I’ll find somewhere else to go,” Clint said suddenly and Phil tensed as he realised how close the other man had suddenly gotten.
“Pfffft.. and having to search for you again afterwards?” Phil asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You never had to search for me,” Clint muttered petulantly. Phil didn’t get to reply immediately as the pling of the elevator reminded them to step in. Pressing 22nd floor, Phil leaned back against the wall and watched Clint closely.
“Oh sure, you mean like that incident with Thor?” Phil asked calmly.
“I had stuff to do,” Clint replied with narrowed eyes, and Phil could feel the air prickle around them. “And no one asked you to follow me.”
“No that was Fury’s doing,” Phil reminded him with a small smile and then sighed as the elevator stopped for their floor.
“And still you went running like the obedient puppy you are,” Clint retorted once they had stepped through the front door of Phil’s flat. Phil hadn’t even the chance to turn on the lights as Clint had already dropped his bag down on to the floor and was pushing Phil with his back against the door.
“I wasn’t doing this for Fury,” Phil wheezed, letting himself grow still as both of his wrists were pushed up against the door on either side of his head. Slowly Phil could make out Clint’s face in the dark, and his fingers flexed for a moment testing the strength of the hold around his wrists.
“Then why did you come?” Clint asked, his breath so close that Phil could almost could feel their lips touching. “Why didn’t you take me back to SHIELD? But back here to patch me up yourself? Tell me Coulson? Why did you take me back here and then ignore, acting like nothing had happened? TELL ME!”
“Because I thought if I just ignore what had happened you wouldn’t have to choose with whom you want to be with!” Phil ended up shouting, his patience not always sufficient enough to deal with Clint. He could hear Clint mumble something and then suddenly there were lips on his, kissing hungrily, almost possessively. Phil couldn’t do anything but give in. He was panting by the time the other man finally pulled back, giving them both time to breathe.
“You stupid, stupid man. It was always only you, when will you get that into that thick skull of yours,” Clint murmured, letting go of Phil’s wrists and wrapping his arms around his waist and then kissing him again. Phil needed a moment before he managed to reach up and put his hands on the other man’s head and return the kiss, this time more gentle than before.
Maybe this holiday thing, wasn’t as bad as he had predicted it to be?
Summary: “We drop into a quiet little place
And have a drink or two
And then I go and spoil it all
By saying something stupid
Like I love you”
Rating: PG
Pairing: Phil Coulson / Clint Barton
Fandom: Avengers
Author Note: Thanks to inside_the_veil for being my beta for this! And to everyone who gave me encouraging comments to write a fic for this pairing. It only took me way too much time. XD Please enjoy!
AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/489748
“Coulson, I remember telling you that you have holidays. I would please ask you to do me the favour to take them,” Fury’s voice came from the door of his office. Phil looked up in surprise, raising an eyebrow at the other man and then looking back down at his papers. There was still so much left to do and he hated it when he left the office leaving things undone.
“Those papers can wait until you come back Coulson, oh and please take Barton with you. He’s still on the range,” and with those words Fury left and Phil just stared at the doorway, wondering if, Fury was starting to pick up on his sneaking up tactics. Shaking his head, he was ready to reach out for the next stack of papers as he could hear Fury’s voice call out again. “Now, Coulson, not tomorrow morning.”
Grumbling under his breath, Phil carefully got up from his chair. He looked over his desk again, guessing there was nothing he could do right now and then pushed his chair back turning to leave.
Fury had something about Barton still being still there again. Another someone who didn’t understand the meaning of the word holidays.
As Fury had predicted, Barton was indeed still on the range, bow in his hands. Phil watched him for a moment and then slowly stepped inside of the area, not wanting to surprise Barton and in process have an arrow stuck in his chest.
“Barton,” he called out softly. Barton didn’t reply, and Phil tried calling out for him again to no avail.
“Clint,” Phil ended calling out instead, his voice softer this time, more subdued. He hadn’t called Barton like this since... he shook his head, quickly pushing the memory back out of his mind. That was in the past and he was sure Barton wasn’t interested anymore. Not after how he had seen him talk to Natasha. She could probably offer him more than he would be ever able to.
This, however, seemed to have gotten Barton’s attention. He had turned his face around slowly, his whole body tense, expression composed. Within seconds Clint visibly relaxed and then grew so exhausted. It was the most unguarded expression he had seen on Barton’s face in a long time. It made Phil wonder if he was sleeping and was just having some kind of recollection of a memory, where nothing was hidden between them.
“Fury sent me to remind you that you have holidays, which apparently means leaving SHIELD facilities,” Phil said calmly, his own expression still composed.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on holidays as well?” Barton asked, and Phil couldn’t hide the smile that was tugging at the corner of his lips this time. Bowing his head to keep his expression hidden, Phil did his best to collect himself again.
“Touche Barton,” Phil eventually replied when he was sure that his voice would sound somewhat even again. When he looked back at Barton the other man was smiling as well, and Phil found himself suddenly rather drawn to it. The moment got broken ,however, as Clint, (when had he turned into Clint?), turned back to shoot again.
“Come on Barton, time to go home,” Phil pointed out, his voice a little bit more serious now, turning around to leave. He spotted Barton’s bags by the wall of the room, relieved to see that the man had at least had some point thought about leaving for his expected holidays.
He was almost through the door when Barton’s voice came quietly from behind him.
“I don’t have anywhere to go,” it was so quiet that Phil hardly heard it, and every normal human being would probably have ignored it and instead listened to the swooshing sound of the next arrow flying through the air and hitting the target.
“What do you mean?” Phil asked in confusion, turning back around to face Barton.
“It means I don’t have anywhere to go,” Barton repeated, his voice more composed this time and the next arrow hitting a target again.
“I am sure you have a home to go to Barton; go there, have a few drinks and attempt not to shoot anyone for a while,” Phil replied, still not managing to make any sense of this.
“Are you really that dense,” Barton snarled, and he turned to face Phil, bow and arrow still in his hands. “I have stayed at SHIELD ever since I have started working here. I don’t have my own place, and no, I am not together with Natasha like everyone presumes I am. And she is off to Russia, so the idea of bunking with her isn’t really an option.”
For a moment Phil just stood there motionless, wondering if Barton was angry enough to shoot him on the spot. When he repeated the speech in his mind, only a few words seemed to have stuck. In which Clint said that he didn’t have a place to stay, and that he currently wasn’t in relationship with Natasha. It only took a few more seconds before he came up with a plan. It was a stupid plan, but he didn’t care, the couch would have to suffice.
“Grab your things; you’re coming with me. I won’t have myself be fired because you’re incapable of following rules,” Phil ordered, crossing his arms to look at Clint with a serious, calm expression that he used on people when he was sure what he wanted and wasn’t going to be messed with. Clint only blinked a few times, folded his bow together, came over and reached down for his bag.
Neither said another word as they walked down to the parking lot and got into Phil’s car. The silence continued during the drive to Phil’s flat. They had done this several times before, usually bantering or recounting the mission they had just come from. Faces bruised, well Clint’s mostly with the trouble he got into, bodies exhausted and minds ready to simply act like they were normal human beings. It had never been this uncomfortable silence before and Phil didn’t know what to do about it.
However, since the last time they had been here together everything had changed so dramatically. Letting out a small sigh, Phil parked in his usual parking lot before moving to get out of the car. He looked behind him for a moment to make sure that Clint wasn’t suddenly planning to run off and then unlocked the front door. Stepping into the hallway, he walked over to the elevator, leaning against the wall as he waited for it to come. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared up at the numbers slowly counting down to the main floor.
“If you’d rather, I’ll find somewhere else to go,” Clint said suddenly and Phil tensed as he realised how close the other man had suddenly gotten.
“Pfffft.. and having to search for you again afterwards?” Phil asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You never had to search for me,” Clint muttered petulantly. Phil didn’t get to reply immediately as the pling of the elevator reminded them to step in. Pressing 22nd floor, Phil leaned back against the wall and watched Clint closely.
“Oh sure, you mean like that incident with Thor?” Phil asked calmly.
“I had stuff to do,” Clint replied with narrowed eyes, and Phil could feel the air prickle around them. “And no one asked you to follow me.”
“No that was Fury’s doing,” Phil reminded him with a small smile and then sighed as the elevator stopped for their floor.
“And still you went running like the obedient puppy you are,” Clint retorted once they had stepped through the front door of Phil’s flat. Phil hadn’t even the chance to turn on the lights as Clint had already dropped his bag down on to the floor and was pushing Phil with his back against the door.
“I wasn’t doing this for Fury,” Phil wheezed, letting himself grow still as both of his wrists were pushed up against the door on either side of his head. Slowly Phil could make out Clint’s face in the dark, and his fingers flexed for a moment testing the strength of the hold around his wrists.
“Then why did you come?” Clint asked, his breath so close that Phil could almost could feel their lips touching. “Why didn’t you take me back to SHIELD? But back here to patch me up yourself? Tell me Coulson? Why did you take me back here and then ignore, acting like nothing had happened? TELL ME!”
“Because I thought if I just ignore what had happened you wouldn’t have to choose with whom you want to be with!” Phil ended up shouting, his patience not always sufficient enough to deal with Clint. He could hear Clint mumble something and then suddenly there were lips on his, kissing hungrily, almost possessively. Phil couldn’t do anything but give in. He was panting by the time the other man finally pulled back, giving them both time to breathe.
“You stupid, stupid man. It was always only you, when will you get that into that thick skull of yours,” Clint murmured, letting go of Phil’s wrists and wrapping his arms around his waist and then kissing him again. Phil needed a moment before he managed to reach up and put his hands on the other man’s head and return the kiss, this time more gentle than before.
Maybe this holiday thing, wasn’t as bad as he had predicted it to be?