[fic] the book of tomorrow [1/1]
WHERE THIS DID COME FROM. I'm supposed to be working on the second part of Man at the Crossroads but instead my brain gives me this. Also, the Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol shooting diary is an excellent companion for staring at all of Jeremy Renner's beautifully lovely expression, even though there's only a handful of photos of him in it.
Title: the book of tomorrow
Fandom: Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol (2011), Avengers (2012)
Pairing: Background Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, implied one-sided Benji Dunn/William Brandt
Summary: Benji likes to think he knows Brandt. Benji knows better.
“Yesterday was a closed book, tomorrow, however, was another story.”
― Cecelia Ahern, The Book of Tomorrow
Benji likes to believe he's familiar with all of Brandt's expressions.
He's seen plenty of them, after all. The slight quirk of his lips when he's amused, the deepening of his frown when he's upset, and that pinched expression he gets when he held a gun steady at Ethan. That one scares him, because he's seen Brandt's eyes - and they remind him of a tiger's, fierce, feral and deadly - and Benji had been so sure that the analyst would have shot Ethan if he'd been provoked.
Then there's that elegantly arched eyebrow from the time on the train, after Jane had offered the idea of taking them out, and Benji had added his two pennies worth. Benji won't admit it, but that look on Brandt's face had drained the words from his mind, and he's thankful he hadn't had to say anything else because his mouth would have been too dry to voice it.
He's seen the worry that crinkles around the edges of storm-grey eyes when Ethan had been suspended mid-leap with no safety net, and the brief shimmer of relief when Brandt's hands closed over Ethan's ankle.
Benji also remembers - more clearly than he should, really - the fleeting flicker of self-loathing that flits over Brandt's features when the man mentions Julia. It makes Benji want to smooth away the lines that have etched themselves into the analyst's face, and tell him that it's okay, even though it really isn't and he really shouldn't even be having these thoughts.
Brandt disappears out of their lives six months after Mumbai, taking with him those minute changes in expressions and leaving behind the memory of his features contorted with pain.
Benji tells himself that it had been inevitable, in their line of work.
Then two weeks later, he runs into Brandt again, and somehow all his pre-conceived notions of the man's expressions that he'd categorized and filed away is smashed to pieces when Brandt sticks a hand out and calls himself Clint Barton.
Benji likes to believe he's familiar with all of Brandt's expressions, but now, looking at Brandt, Benji realizes that he's never seen the look Clint gives Coulson in Brandt's features, accomplished and self-assured and a little something else that makes that sharp feeling curl in his gut. He's never seen how those lips curl up, revealing teeth when the archer flashes them a cocky grin. He's never seen the laser-sharp focus Clint turns on his targets, how his eyes narrow in anticipation of the shot.
It's then that he realizes, he doesn't know half of the expressions Clint wears openly. He doesn't recognize them, doesn't recognize the stranger that wears the disguise of a friend.
Benji wants to believe he's familiar with many of Clint's expressions. He really does.
But the truth is, he's not.
Title: the book of tomorrow
Fandom: Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol (2011), Avengers (2012)
Pairing: Background Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, implied one-sided Benji Dunn/William Brandt
Summary: Benji likes to think he knows Brandt. Benji knows better.
“Yesterday was a closed book, tomorrow, however, was another story.”
― Cecelia Ahern, The Book of Tomorrow
Benji likes to believe he's familiar with all of Brandt's expressions.
He's seen plenty of them, after all. The slight quirk of his lips when he's amused, the deepening of his frown when he's upset, and that pinched expression he gets when he held a gun steady at Ethan. That one scares him, because he's seen Brandt's eyes - and they remind him of a tiger's, fierce, feral and deadly - and Benji had been so sure that the analyst would have shot Ethan if he'd been provoked.
Then there's that elegantly arched eyebrow from the time on the train, after Jane had offered the idea of taking them out, and Benji had added his two pennies worth. Benji won't admit it, but that look on Brandt's face had drained the words from his mind, and he's thankful he hadn't had to say anything else because his mouth would have been too dry to voice it.
He's seen the worry that crinkles around the edges of storm-grey eyes when Ethan had been suspended mid-leap with no safety net, and the brief shimmer of relief when Brandt's hands closed over Ethan's ankle.
Benji also remembers - more clearly than he should, really - the fleeting flicker of self-loathing that flits over Brandt's features when the man mentions Julia. It makes Benji want to smooth away the lines that have etched themselves into the analyst's face, and tell him that it's okay, even though it really isn't and he really shouldn't even be having these thoughts.
Brandt disappears out of their lives six months after Mumbai, taking with him those minute changes in expressions and leaving behind the memory of his features contorted with pain.
Benji tells himself that it had been inevitable, in their line of work.
Then two weeks later, he runs into Brandt again, and somehow all his pre-conceived notions of the man's expressions that he'd categorized and filed away is smashed to pieces when Brandt sticks a hand out and calls himself Clint Barton.
Benji likes to believe he's familiar with all of Brandt's expressions, but now, looking at Brandt, Benji realizes that he's never seen the look Clint gives Coulson in Brandt's features, accomplished and self-assured and a little something else that makes that sharp feeling curl in his gut. He's never seen how those lips curl up, revealing teeth when the archer flashes them a cocky grin. He's never seen the laser-sharp focus Clint turns on his targets, how his eyes narrow in anticipation of the shot.
It's then that he realizes, he doesn't know half of the expressions Clint wears openly. He doesn't recognize them, doesn't recognize the stranger that wears the disguise of a friend.
Benji wants to believe he's familiar with many of Clint's expressions. He really does.
But the truth is, he's not.