Work Text:
Clint ducked and rolled as the laser zoomed over his head, close enough that he could feel sparks in his hair. Days like these, he started questioning his life choices.
“Just give me a second,” Daisy was saying in his comm unit and he had to clamp down on his retort; baby agents needed enough rope to hang themselves.
Okay, no, that wasn't fair. He liked Daisy, she reminded him a bit of himself and Coulson trusted her. It was just he'd been dodging this Inhuman's laser vision for the last 8 minutes, and that was 9 minutes too long.
“Clint, you okay?” Coulson's voice cut in.
Clint ran towards a van and ducked down before he answered.
“Peachy. Just peachy.”
If he didn't know better he'd swear that Coulson stifled down a laugh.
“All right, Daisy and Mack, you're up. But if Clint thinks you're in trouble he takes the shot. Clint, you have the tranq rounds?”
“Locked and loaded,” he confirmed.
“All right, let's do this,” Mack's voice cut in. Clint shifted his position, rechecking his weapon and making sure he had a clean shot. The modified tranq gun wasn't his bow but he had to admit it was a pretty solid weapon.
“Mr Zhou,” Daisy was saying, “this isn't helping. You don't need to do this.”
“You don't understand,” Zhou screamed, thankfully turning his eyes away from Daisy and Mack.
“Yes, I do,” Daisy said. “I'm just like you. I have powers that I still don’t fully understand, but SHIELD is helping me and we can help you too.”
“Help me?” Zhou twisted his head and the bus stop next to Clint's van melted. Clint twitched but kept his eyes trained on Zhou. Even if Daisy could convince him to come in voluntarily, Clint couldn't see how they could safely transport him while he was conscious.
Daisy must have come to the same conclusion because she looked back over towards Clint and nodded.
“Take the shot,” she said.
Clint waited a beat to see if Coulson would object, then did as she said.
* * * * *
Clint dismissed Bobbi's movement to check out his bruises with a shake of his head which was probably more brusque than it needed to be. He was a specialist, he was used to moving into a team, getting the job done and moving on, but Coulson's team...there was something about this team that made his heart ache in ways he refused to examine.
It was probably Coulson's fault. Stupid, not really dead Coulson with alien blood in his brain and a missing arm. Stupid Director of stupid SHIELD, who'd told Maria to brief him on his miraculous resurrection and oh, “best not tell the other Avengers just yet.”
Clint slammed his temporary locker shut and saw Bobbi frown at him from the corner of his eye.
“Can I get you anything?” Bobbi asked. “Whiskey, for example?”
How is it Coulson always managed to surround himself with people who genuinely cared about others? Did they flock to him, or did he flock to them?
“I'm sorry, Bobbi, I'm fine.”
Bobbi didn't look convinced but she nodded and headed out to where Mack and Daisy were bringing in their latest acquisition.
Coulson tried to catch his eye but Clint ducked back into the galley – coffee felt like a really good life choice right about then.
* * * * *
“Come on, Tremors,” Mack was saying, “you need food.”
Clint looked up from the crossword he was finishing off as Mack and Daisy moved into the plane's kitchen area.
“Yes, Dad,” she muttered, even as she started pulling out plates.
Mack pulled a face. “Save the Dad talk for Coulson.” Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Ugh, you know what I mean,” Mack continued.
Daisy huffed a quiet laugh. “Can I get you anything, Clint?” she asked.
“I make a mean meatball sub,” Mack added, laying out ingredients as he talked.
“Sure,” Clint decided, before really registering what his mouth was doing. “Can I help?”
They both shook their heads but he moved over to the counter anyway and watched them work. He was aware that Coulson was doing the same from further back in the plane but he didn't comment; probably assessing his new team.
It also wasn't lost on him that Daisy had put out four plates instead of three.
“Hungry, Boss?” Mack asked, his back to where Coulson was standing.
“I could eat,” Coulson replied. He moved further into the room and sat next to Clint, his elbow touching Clint's. It took all of Clint's training not to flinch away. Judging by Daisy's furrowed brow he probably wasn't being as subtle as he thought; he daren't look at Coulson to see how he was reacting.
“You were a big help, today,” Coulson said and Clint hated the fact that his neutral tone was back in place, the one he'd used when Clint first joined SHIELD.
“Yeah,” Daisy added, “it's not every day we get to see a real live Avenger in action.”
Clint smiled, that automatic twitch of lips whenever he was reminded that yes, he was an actual Avenger.
“Wait till you get to see the whole gang together,” Clint told her.
Daisy's smile faltered a little. “I'm sure it'll be worth seeing.”
“Grub's up,” Mack interrupted. He handed out the food and then he and Daisy made some not very subtle remarks about eating elsewhere, leaving Clint and Coulson alone.
“I hope they're not so obvious in the field,” Clint said, more to fill the silence than anything else.
“They're not,” Coulson replied, earnest and true, as always.
Clint took a bite of his sandwich. It looked good but all Clint could taste was ash.
Coulson swivelled in his chair so he could face Clint head on.
“What are you most annoyed about? That I'm alive? That I asked you for help? Or that I asked you to lie to the other Avengers?...Clint?”
Clint took another bite of his sandwich. How could he possibly explain what it meant to have Coulson back, when clearly he hadn't given Clint a second thought until he needed help.
Coulson sighed. “Clint.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me how we can fix this.”
Clint looked up at Coulson, quietly assessing.
“Why now?”
Coulson frowned. “That's a fair question. I could tell you all the things that had happened,” here he motioned with his left arm, “and how busy I've been, but really I suppose I was afraid that I'd ask you for help and you wouldn't come. And so I kept putting off the call until I couldn’t think about anything but calling you.”
Clint nodded, and pushed himself away from the breakfast bar.
“I'm going to check in with Maria,” he said, and left the room. Left, not fled.
* * * * *
Daisy was hitting a punch bag when Clint next saw her. They were back in their secret base and Clint had been given an all access lanyard which now lay heavily around his neck. Coulson had asked if he could stay for a couple more days and he'd only nodded before following Hunter as he showed him to his temporary digs.
After a few minutes of unpacking (not hiding) he'd gone in search of the gym.
Daisy took a break and looked over at Clint. “You're not interrupting,” she said, as if he'd asked.
Clint stepped further into the gym and headed over to the running machine. Normally he'd shoot his bow to clear his head, but right now running until he could guarantee himself of an exhausted, dreamless sleep, was much more appealing.
He didn't say anything to Daisy and so she went back to her own training, shooting him the occasional glance, but keeping her thoughts to herself.
Which in the end, didn’t help. Because all Clint could think about as he ran was the way Coulson had trusted Daisy to make a call in the field without any discussion beforehand.
“What's really bothering you?” Daisy asked.
Clint looked up to find Daisy standing next to him, her hair damp with sweat.
He slowed down to a walk and then turned the running machine off.
“What do you think?” he asked her. He was surprised by how genuinely he wanted to hear what she thought.
“I think he doesn't talk about you. Ever.”
Clint tried to move away but Daisy put her hand on his arm.
“I think he doesn't talk about you because then we'd ask questions, and he wouldn't be able to hide how much he missed you.” Daisy removed her hand. “I haven't known him as long as you, I know, but I think I've probably got to know a side of him that he never let you see. He never talks about the things he really cares about without some serious prodding.”
She looked at him then, a look which refused to be cowed. He could see in that look just why Coulson had taken her under his wing; she cared and she wasn't embarrassed to show it.
“Thank you,” he said.
Daisy nodded and walked off. Clint watched her go, paralysed by indecision.
* * * * *
Clint stood outside Coulson's bedroom and willed himself to knock. Seeing how easily Coulson and his team (especially Coulson and Daisy) worked together had brought back all the memories Clint had thought he'd buried with Coulson. Coulson had made it all look so effortless, running ops, being the Director of SHIELD. They'd joked enough times that that was Coulson's super power, making the impossible look like a walk in the park.
Clint raised his hand to knock and then turned away and walked (not skulked) back to his own room.
* * * * *
Clint sat nursing a cup of coffee as Coulson went over the plan for that day's extraction. Having the power to walk through walls was pretty cool he guessed, until you started robbing banks.
“Fitz,” Coulson said, breaking into Clint's thoughts, “any closer to finding a way to keep Miss Noren contained?”
“Theoretically our usual containments should work, they were designed with these advances in human biology in mind...” Fitz said, glancing over at Daisy. “But...” Then he shrugged and Coulson sighed.
“Right. Daisy, Mack, you go and talk to her. If that doesn't work...”
Daisy nodded. “Barton's our back-up again?”
“If that's okay with him?” Coulson agreed, making it a question at the last moment.
“Always happy to help out the Director of SHIELD,” Clint said.
Coulson looked like he was going to say something more but instead handed Daisy a file. “My office, five minutes?”
She nodded and started flicking through the file as she walked. Coulson moved over to Clint and stood in front of him.
“Can we talk? Later?”
Clint really hated the fact that Coulson wasn't one to avoid the difficult conversations. It also made him feel like even more of an emotionally stunted coward.
“I think I know everything I need to,” Clint replied. Because, yeah, he's also an asshole.
“No, you don't,” Coulson said. He was soft spoken and completely confident in himself that Clint would roll over and do as he asked. The man could be bloody insufferable.
Clint stared at him, aware that Coulson's team was keeping an eye on proceedings. Coulson just stared back.
“Fine,” Clint said,” if you want to...”
Alarms started to blare, cutting off whatever Clint had been planning to say, (”if you want to lie to my face some more”) and everybody tensed.
“Talk to me,” Coulson said into his earpiece.
“I think Noren just came to us,” Mack replied. He entered the room and pulled up a surveillance video from the back of the building.
“How the hell did she find us?” Coulson asked no one in particular.
“I'm more worried about where she's heading,” Mack replied.
“The Vault,” Coulson muttered. “Daisy, Mack, get down there. Fitz, Bobbi, we need a way to contain her, now.”
His team nodded, moving as the perfect unit, but there was a warmth in the way they moved, as they nodded to Coulson and each other as they left the room. Because they never knew when one of them might not come back.
It should have reminded Clint of the Avengers, but all it did was remind him of Strike Team Delta.
“Where do you need me, Boss?”
“I could do with some backup?” Coulson asked. “I don't want her getting close to the servers.”
“You got it.”
Clint followed Coulson as they headed to the main computer room, only to find Bobbi already there.
“She's heading to you,” Daisy said, sounding out of breath.
“It's like she knows this place better than we do,” Mack added.
“Maybe she does,” Coulson said and Clint could almost see the light bulb appear above his head. Coulson moved to access one of the computer terminals and started scrolling through the data. Clint shifted so he was covering him while Bobbi kept her eyes trained on the nearest wall.
“What are you thinking?” Daisy asked.
“The last place Noren went...was a military archive. It would have included plans...of old SSR buildings.” Coulson looked up and caught Clint's eye. “She has the plans to here.”
“So what is she after?”
Before Coulson could answer, the power went out.
Bobbi handed Clint a flash light before he could ask for one and nudged him in Coulson's direction. If nothing else, Clint could take a hint.
“We need to get you to a secure location.”
“She can walk through walls,” Coulson pointed out.
“Humour me,” Clint replied.
“I don't think...”
“Coulson,” Daisy interrupted, “she's doubled back to the Vault.”
“Stop her,” Coulson said. “Non-lethal only. I want to know what she's after.”
The back up generators whirred into life and they finally had enough light to see each other's expressions.
“Guess we're going down to the Vault then,” Clint said.
“Of course we are,” Bobbi answered for Coulson, shooting them both a look that said volumes.
Coulson almost looked sheepish as he let Bobbi lead the way, with Clint bringing up the rear.
By the time they arrived Lydia Noren was rummaging through a box of confiscated Hydra tech, apparently unfazed by having several guns pointed at her back.
“She says she's trying to help,” Daisy explained.
“Odd way of going about it,” Clint suggested.
“I believe her,” Daisy said to Coulson.
Coulson stared at her a moment and then slipped between Clint and Bobbi to stand far too close to Noren.
She looked up, quickly, and then looked down again, dismissing Coulson completely.
“I know what I'm doing,” she said. “I saw it. I saw what it can do.”
Coulson looked back at Clint and then knelt down next to Noren.
“Saw it?” he asked.
“In the bank,” she said. “In the vaults. Secrets.” She looked up at Coulson then. “I like secrets.”
Coulson nodded. “You came to the right place for that.”
Clint snorted and Bobbi kicked him in the shin.
“How old are you?” Daisy asked. She knelt down on Noren's other side, putting her weapon away.
“14,” she said. “Here.” She passed a silver amulet that had been in the bottom of the box to Daisy. “You shouldn't leave that lying around.”
“What is it?” Coulson asked.
“Death,” she said.
Daisy looked down at it and twisted it around in her hand. “I can't see an opening,” she said.
“That's because you need the key,” Noren said.
“And where is that?” Coulson asked.
Noren shrugged. “I'll let you know.”
Clint raised his gun, ready to fire, but Coulson moved his hand a fraction and Clint paused.
“We can help you,” Coulson said.
“Yes,” Noren replied. “One day I'll even let you.”
And before they could say anything else she melted right through the floor.
* * * * *
Clint offered to help with the clean up but there wasn't much he could do once the electricity was back on and while Daisy and Coulson were huddled together over the weapon, heads almost touching.
“Shouldn't that thing be locked away?” Clint asked.
Coulson and Daisy looked up, like naughty children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“Just because Hydra thinks it's a weapon,” Daisy said, “doesn't mean it is.” She turned to Coulson. “That's what they thought...”
“I know,” Coulson interrupted. “But Clint's right. For the moment we keep it locked away.”
Daisy looked like she was about to disagree and then nodded. “Okay, I'll take it. You two can sort yourselves out.”
Clint shifted uncomfortably.
“You did promise me a talk,” Coulson said.
Clint nodded. “Here?”
“No, let's...let's go to my room. More privacy.”
Clint could think of a lot of reasons why that wasn't a good idea but he had promised.
“Whatever you want, Boss.”
“I'm not your boss, Clint,” Coulson said. He touched Clint's elbow and steered him in the direction of Coulson's room
Clint took a moment to orient himself now that he was finally inside Coulson's room. It was as plain as the one he'd been assigned but with a few touches that made it uniquely Coulson, including a framed Captain America poster.
“So,” Coulson said. “I think perhaps, I might have gone about this the wrong way.”
“Gone about what the wrong way?”
“I...” Coulson sat down on the bed but Clint remained standing. “I wanted to see you. And I shouldn’t have used Maria, I should have gone myself. Explained...”
“Made excuses?” Clint interrupted.
“Explanations, not excuses,” Coulson said. “I thought...I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry.”
“I could have said no,” Clint said. “Refused to come.” He sat down on the bed next to Coulson. “I missed you.”
“This team, they're the closest thing to a family inside SHIELD I've ever had, save you and Natasha. And I don't get to be selfish. I have to protect them and sometimes that means pushing them away.” Coulson shifted, his leg brushing against Clint's. “I asked for your help because you're the only person I wanted to call.”
Clint didn't look at Coulson. Instead he focused on a loose thread of carpet by the desk.
“Watching you with Daisy, the way you let her make her own decisions but you're always there...you're her sounding board, just like you were for me.”
“Yes,” Coulson said into the silence.
“You've changed,” Clint said. He felt Coulson tense beside him. “You're more open with her than you ever were with me.”
“I died,” Coulson said. “I had to change.”
“I might have fallen in love with this new Coulson, if I'd met him back then.”
“And now?” Coulson almost whispered.
“You've always asked too much,” Clint said.
He stood up and walked out, without looking back.
* * * * *
Daisy found him two hours later in the kitchen, where he was nursing his third mug of coffee. She kicked away the chair he'd been resting his legs on and sat down in front of him.
“Hey,” he said, “what are you...”
“What did you say to Coulson?” she demanded.
Clint moved to stand up but she used her powers to push him back down into the chair.
“That's cheating.”
“It's not cheating,” Daisy replied. “It's using the skills I have available.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Coulson.”
“And is that so bad? He's not perfect, but he cares. More than he lets on.”
Clint couldn't believe he was having this conversation. “Look, I'm not one of his puppets he can move about where he wants them and then cut the strings when he's done.”
Daisy frowned. “Is that what you really think?”
“I'm...” Clint closed his eyes. “I don't know what he wants from me.”
“Have you considered he might just like having you around?”
Clint opened his eyes and looked at Daisy, really looked at her. God, she was young.
She smiled, as if she could read his mind. “He's good at pretending everything's okay. Did you know he was seeing a therapist, because of TAHITI? That he made sure SHIELD had an oversight committee, in case his mind went again? He's not like us, the Inhumans who gained powers, that was supposed to happen. Our bodies were designed to cope, even if our minds weren't. He's not Inhuman, but he's not quite human either. That's a pretty lonely place to be.”
“Seems to me he's got plenty of friends looking out for him.”
“And your decision won't change that.” She stood, ready to leave. “It's not my place to tell you how he feels, but if you paid even the slightest attention to the way he looks at you, you’d know.”
* * * * *
Coulson was hitting a punching bag in the gym when Clint finally tracked him down. He must have been there for a while, judging by the ragged breaths and the sweat that was sticking his shirt to his back. It was a look that Clint hadn't seen for years and he let that familiar heat settle in his belly instead of pushing it away.
When Maria had called him into her office and told him Coulson was alive, the only thing he'd been able to think about was that, finally, they had a chance. They'd flirted, and eaten out together, and one memorable undercover op they'd even kissed but every time Coulson had pulled back, shut himself away and Clint had let him, patient, until it was too late.
So maybe it wasn't just jealousy of Daisy because yes, he knew he was jealous the moment he saw them together. Maybe it was anger at himself for never pushing Coulson, for never making him see just how much Clint wanted the other man, and just how devastated he'd been to lose him.
“We really need to work on our communication skills,” Clint said.
Coulson stopped, but didn't turn around. “We do?”
“I hear the best relationships are built on them.”
Coulson did turn around then. “I was starting to think we weren't even friends.”
Clint moved forward, his feet taking him to stand in front of Coulson before he'd really thought about it.
“I was mad,” Clint said, “at Daisy, at myself, at you. I thought you'd only brought me here to be your tool.”
“I didn't know how to tell you,” Coulson started saying, before Clint had finished. “I thought you wouldn't come unless there was a reason, a job I needed your help with.” He looked down at his feet. “I didn't think that just wanting to see you would be enough for you to come.”
Clint's heart clenched and he moved then, raising Coulson's chin and then kissing him. Coulson melted against him and Clint deepened the kiss; he was much better at talking like this then he was with words.
“Cameras,” Coulson panted as Clint manoeuvred him up against the wall.
“Yeah?” Clint asked. He put his knee between Coulson's legs and spread them apart. “Want to put on a show?”
“Clint,” Coulson replied, but it wasn't a no and his pupils were blown, so Clint just kissed him, as dirty as he knew how, grinding his body against Coulson's until Coulson was fumbling with Clint's belt.
“Fuuck,” Clint breathed as Coulson's good hand skimmed over his cock.
“Yes,” Coulson replied, mouthing kisses along Clint's jaw and squeezing.
“Bed,” Clint panted. “Bed.”
Coulson blinked and then nodded, taking a few deep breaths. Clint grinned and led the way.
Clint thanked whatever gods were looking out for them – or more likely Daisy – that the corridors leading to Coulson's room were all deserted. Clint couldn't imagine what Coulson's next briefing would be like if his team saw him like this – flushed face, shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, erection straining in his pants.
Clint had never been more turned on in his life.
“You're always worth it,” Clint said, pushing Coulson against his bedroom door as Coulson locked it behind them. “Always.”
Coulson looked speechless, so Clint kissed him, feeling everything that Coulson couldn't quite say aloud; there'd be room for that later.
“Need you naked,” Clint said, even as he pulled at Coulson's shirt. He made sure to press soft kisses against the scar on Coulson's chest until Coulson became more relaxed, and started helping get rid of clothes.
“Thought you wanted this in a bed?” Coulson asked, pinned as he was to the door by Clint's hands on his arms.
“Fuck me?” Clint asked instead. Coulson's pleased smile was going to get him through a lot of lonely nights.
“Lube and condoms, top drawer,” Coulson said.
Clint moved away to get the supplies. “I do love a man who's always prepared.”
Coulson chuckled behind him and Clint gasped as Coulson pushed him to the bed and crawled on top of him.
“Do you know how long I've thought about this?” Coulson asked.
Clint shivered. “As long as me, I'm guessing.”
Their next kiss was soft, gentle, a promise neither of them could ever hope to keep but they were making it anyway.
“Please,” Clint panted, bucking up against Coulson's thigh.
“Patience,” Coulson grinned and Clint settled for lying back, shifting into whatever position Coulson directed until finally, finally Coulson's fingers were pushing inside him.
“More,” he demanded, insistent and scrabbling at Coulson's back.
“What did I just say?” Coulson asked with a laugh, ending by biting softly at Clint's neck.
“Need, need...”
“Shh, I know, I'm just...” More fingers, more lube, but Clint couldn’t relax, wouldn't let himself go until Coulson was pushing himself inside, not stopping until he was pressed as far into Clint as he could be.
“Yes,” Clint breathed.
“Yes,” Coulson replied. “Should have just told you I wanted you in my bed, spread out below me.”
“I'd have still come, whatever you said,” Clint panted. “I'll come now if you'll just move,” he added with a cheeky grin and a flex of his hips.
“I'll make you scream,” Coulson promised, voice a low rumble that settled in Clint's bones.
And scream he did, not caring who might be listening as Coulson started to move, pounding him into the mattress, holding Clint's arms above his head with just his prosthetic hand, his other hand brushing against his nipples and then replacing his fingers with his mouth, sucking and biting and licking until Clint couldn't take it much longer, his orgasm building as Coulson's every thrust sent shock waves through him, until he was begging to come and finally, finally, the world whited out and Coulson was spasming and twitching and coming and coming and Clint let go, and just felt.
When he came back to himself it was to a pleasantly aching body and Coulson pressed into his side, planting soft kisses against his shoulder. Clint twisted around to face him, grin breaking out before he could stop it. Coulson grinned back and chuckled.
“I can't stop smiling,” Coulson said.
Clint kissed him, words stuck in the back of his throat.
They must have dozed a little after that because suddenly Coulson was leaning over him and smacking the alarm silent. Clint twisted his neck to see the clock face.
“5am?” he asked incredulously.
He felt Coulson shrug beside him. “I don't need much sleep these days.”
Coulson started to get up but Clint put a hand on his good arm. “No one should be getting up at 5am without the imminent destruction of life as we know it. Is the end of the world on its way?”
Coulson's lips twitched. “No sooner than usual.”
Clint stared at him pointedly until Coulson lay back down.
“They might send a search party,” Coulson said.
“I'm confident Daisy can fend them off,” Clint replied.
Coulson huffed a laugh. “I'm glad you two are getting along.”
Clint ran over all the unflattering things he'd thought about Daisy, but really the only thing that stood out was how much she cared for Coulson. She'd be a good friend to have.
“I know you can't stay,” Coulson said, after a moment. He was on his back now, not quite touching Clint, addressing the ceiling.
“Says who?”
He'd thought about this a lot. Mostly on the way to the base before he knew the whole situation, but at other times too – breakfast with Fitz, sparring with Bobbi, lunch with Mack, every time someone made him feel like a part of the team, like he'd always been part of the team.
“You're an Avenger,” Coulson said.
“So you keep reminding me,” Clint said, which was true. And now he thought about, it was another way for Coulson to keep him at arm's length. “But they have never asked where I go when I'm not assembling, so why can't I stay?”
“Your life is...”
“In a bag, next to my bow and arrow.”
Coulson sat up in the bed and Clint followed. “But...”
“I don't have things,” Clint said. “I have people I care about and people I don't. I joined SHIELD because a one-eyed bastard and his right hand man convinced me I could do some good. You saying that's not true?”
“Of course not. The team think you're great.”
“And the Director?”
“Thinks he's doing a pretty good job of screwing this up before it starts.”
“Yeah,” Clint agreed, “we're going to have to work on that.”
Coulson started to smile. “You're staying?”
“As long as you'll let me.”
Coulson moved forward and pulled him into a searing kiss. He slowly pulled away and rested his forehead against Clint's.
“Clint Barton,” he said, “welcome to SHIELD.”
“It's good to be here,” Clint replied.
And then he dragged Coulson back under the covers. They still had a couple of hours before any decent agent should be awake, and he had a lot of missed opportunities to make up for.