Fic: Proprioception (7/6) [Bonus Chapter!]
Title: Proprioception
Fandom: The Avengers
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairings: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson.
Summary: "Clint is a very...tactile person. He doesn't mean anything by it."
(Or, five times Clint and Phil's handsiness weirded someone out, and one time it was just business as usual.)
Warnings: Feelings
Word Count: 768
A/N: Based on this prompt: Y'all. I would really love a fic where either Clint/Coulson or Steve/Tony have a relationship where they are constantly touching each other. Just affectionate touches, on the knee, on the hip, on the back, wherever. But I would really love it if they weren't in a relationship to start with, just really comfortable with each other. Everyone else thinks they're already together.
"No, I'm good," Phil says, and kisses him.
It's not like before, except that it kind of is: not as hard and fast and desperate, but just as sure. Clint lets go of Phil's hands in order to grab his waist, and Phil's mouth slips away for a moment, catching his breath, before coming back. His hands cup the back of Clint’s head, keep him where he wants him, and Clint swears he'd never move again if that's what Phil wanted. He'd just stay there, sitting on Phil's desk, kissing or waiting to be kissed, for the rest of his life.
Clint's aware that's kind of crazy. It's not his fault; Phil is driving him crazy, with all those sweet slow kisses, interspersed with quick separations and deep inhales, and he's got the warm air from Phil's lungs all up in him, filling his chest till it feels like he's going to burst.
Phil eases up for a moment. He's still close, but not enough that Clint can feel every breath. He opens his eyes, and Phil smiles at him, sheepish.
"I may have gotten a little carried away," he murmurs, low like it's a secret, like Clint's the only one who gets to know that Phil isn't always 100% in control of his actions.
Clint grins. "I'd be a fan of you getting more."
Phil chuckles, leans in to press his forehead against Clint's. It's weird, strangely intimate, but he presses back. Phil seems to appreciate it, because he stays there, quiet, for a little longer before pulling out of his grasp.
"Things are going to change." His hands are uncertain for a moment, before they come up to flatten his tie back against his chest. "There's...there's things I can't do."
"Like what?" Clint huffs. "Anal?"
Phil laughs, startled, but then sobers. "Like having you in here with the door closed."
Clint raises his eyebrows. "Are you serious?" Phil gives him a look, and he has to laugh. "Are we fifteen?"
"Clint-"
"Okay. Fine," he says, getting up. He walks over to the door, throws it open, then turns back around, and stalks back over to where Phil is standing, looking at him like he may in fact actually be fifteen. Clint crosses his arms. "Happy?"
Phil rolls his eyes. "Thrilled." He starts to turn away, probably to go back to his desk so they can Talk About This some more, but Clint reaches out. His hand rests against Phil's arm, right above his elbow, and Phil hesitates. He's still for a long moment before he turns back around. His eyes narrow and he gives Clint the patented Phil Coulson Professionally Evaluative Scan, which is normally guaranteed to put Clint on edge, but he resists the urge to look away and keeps his hand on Phil's arm.
"We keeping this a secret?"
Phil looks as surprised as he ever does, and his eyes soften. "Of course not."
"Good, 'cause I'm about to kiss you again."
He waits for Phil to nod before closing the distance. Their lips meet, and Phil gives that quiet little sigh, the same one he makes when he's done for the day and finally gets to go home. Clint's probably heard it a thousand times before, but he's never understood it until just now.
"Coulson, I'm gonna need you on the damage negotiations again, the governor's being an asshole." Clint bolts back. Fury gives him the same vaguely disgruntled look he always does when he finds Clint in Phil's office, and keeps talking. "Think Sitwell can handle the team this week, or am I going to have to take time from my busy schedule to babysit a forty-seven year old man?"
"Stark will behave," Phil says, absolutely calm, as if he hadn't just been caught in a compromising position with his sometimes-subordinate.
Fury grunts in disbelief. "Fine. Barton?"
He tries to take inspiration from Phil's serenity, and manages: "Sir."
"Get your ass down to the armory, they've been paging you for half an hour." He swallows. Fury stares at him for a moment, and Clint makes the mistake of staring back. "Now, Agent Barton."
"Got it, sir," he says, daring a quick glance to Phil once he's at the door. Phil smiles at him, and his fingers twitch by his side. Clint squeezes the doorframe, then taps at it twice with his palm, more to displace the energy than anything, but Phil's eyes crinkle as he shakes his head. Clint grins to himself as he turns around.
Things are going to change, Phil had said.
Not too much, Clint hopes. Just enough.
*
[Jasper Sitwell] [Natasha Romanoff] [Pepper Potts] [Bruce Banner] [Tony Stark] [Phil Coulson] [Clint Barton]
Fandom: The Avengers
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairings: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson.
Summary: "Clint is a very...tactile person. He doesn't mean anything by it."
(Or, five times Clint and Phil's handsiness weirded someone out, and one time it was just business as usual.)
Warnings: Feelings
Word Count: 768
A/N: Based on this prompt: Y'all. I would really love a fic where either Clint/Coulson or Steve/Tony have a relationship where they are constantly touching each other. Just affectionate touches, on the knee, on the hip, on the back, wherever. But I would really love it if they weren't in a relationship to start with, just really comfortable with each other. Everyone else thinks they're already together.
"No, I'm good," Phil says, and kisses him.
It's not like before, except that it kind of is: not as hard and fast and desperate, but just as sure. Clint lets go of Phil's hands in order to grab his waist, and Phil's mouth slips away for a moment, catching his breath, before coming back. His hands cup the back of Clint’s head, keep him where he wants him, and Clint swears he'd never move again if that's what Phil wanted. He'd just stay there, sitting on Phil's desk, kissing or waiting to be kissed, for the rest of his life.
Clint's aware that's kind of crazy. It's not his fault; Phil is driving him crazy, with all those sweet slow kisses, interspersed with quick separations and deep inhales, and he's got the warm air from Phil's lungs all up in him, filling his chest till it feels like he's going to burst.
Phil eases up for a moment. He's still close, but not enough that Clint can feel every breath. He opens his eyes, and Phil smiles at him, sheepish.
"I may have gotten a little carried away," he murmurs, low like it's a secret, like Clint's the only one who gets to know that Phil isn't always 100% in control of his actions.
Clint grins. "I'd be a fan of you getting more."
Phil chuckles, leans in to press his forehead against Clint's. It's weird, strangely intimate, but he presses back. Phil seems to appreciate it, because he stays there, quiet, for a little longer before pulling out of his grasp.
"Things are going to change." His hands are uncertain for a moment, before they come up to flatten his tie back against his chest. "There's...there's things I can't do."
"Like what?" Clint huffs. "Anal?"
Phil laughs, startled, but then sobers. "Like having you in here with the door closed."
Clint raises his eyebrows. "Are you serious?" Phil gives him a look, and he has to laugh. "Are we fifteen?"
"Clint-"
"Okay. Fine," he says, getting up. He walks over to the door, throws it open, then turns back around, and stalks back over to where Phil is standing, looking at him like he may in fact actually be fifteen. Clint crosses his arms. "Happy?"
Phil rolls his eyes. "Thrilled." He starts to turn away, probably to go back to his desk so they can Talk About This some more, but Clint reaches out. His hand rests against Phil's arm, right above his elbow, and Phil hesitates. He's still for a long moment before he turns back around. His eyes narrow and he gives Clint the patented Phil Coulson Professionally Evaluative Scan, which is normally guaranteed to put Clint on edge, but he resists the urge to look away and keeps his hand on Phil's arm.
"We keeping this a secret?"
Phil looks as surprised as he ever does, and his eyes soften. "Of course not."
"Good, 'cause I'm about to kiss you again."
He waits for Phil to nod before closing the distance. Their lips meet, and Phil gives that quiet little sigh, the same one he makes when he's done for the day and finally gets to go home. Clint's probably heard it a thousand times before, but he's never understood it until just now.
"Coulson, I'm gonna need you on the damage negotiations again, the governor's being an asshole." Clint bolts back. Fury gives him the same vaguely disgruntled look he always does when he finds Clint in Phil's office, and keeps talking. "Think Sitwell can handle the team this week, or am I going to have to take time from my busy schedule to babysit a forty-seven year old man?"
"Stark will behave," Phil says, absolutely calm, as if he hadn't just been caught in a compromising position with his sometimes-subordinate.
Fury grunts in disbelief. "Fine. Barton?"
He tries to take inspiration from Phil's serenity, and manages: "Sir."
"Get your ass down to the armory, they've been paging you for half an hour." He swallows. Fury stares at him for a moment, and Clint makes the mistake of staring back. "Now, Agent Barton."
"Got it, sir," he says, daring a quick glance to Phil once he's at the door. Phil smiles at him, and his fingers twitch by his side. Clint squeezes the doorframe, then taps at it twice with his palm, more to displace the energy than anything, but Phil's eyes crinkle as he shakes his head. Clint grins to himself as he turns around.
Things are going to change, Phil had said.
Not too much, Clint hopes. Just enough.
*
[Jasper Sitwell] [Natasha Romanoff] [Pepper Potts] [Bruce Banner] [Tony Stark] [Phil Coulson] [Clint Barton]