Chapter 2
Clint Barton lay quietly in the vents above the main kitchen in the Avengers tower. As a master spy, this was nothing new. Usually he would only hide out in vents for the sole purpose of spying on his targets, but currently he had just needed some time away from everyone to get his mind clear. (And maybe also spy a little bit.)
It had been a week since Phil had been able to leave the hospital, and even though they shared an apartment, he and Clint were currently staying at the tower. Phil being home had been good for Clint, but he still wasn’t quite back to his usual goofy self. The nightmares and panic attacks were pretty bad, and he was still struggling to keep food down, but Phil was really good at helping him deal with it. The night before, Clint had been up until 3:00am on the archery range with no plans on stopping until Phil had found him and convinced him to come back to bed. His nightmares didn’t seem so scary when he knew he would wake up next to Phil.
***
At the moment, the Avengers team were milling about the kitchen, chatting and cooking together. They had started having team dinners. Every night, the team all sat down and ate a homemade (“Please can we get some takeaway for once?” Tony would grumble) meal.
The thought of sitting down at the table amongst his loud friends to eat was causing Clint some anxiety (hence the hanging out in the vents). Clint watched as Phil entered the room, greeting the Avengers (minus Thor, who was still on Asgard).
“Anyone seen Clint?” Phil asked.
“Not since training this morning.” Nat answered.
“I think he said something about sticking around in the archery range for a while.” Tony added. That was true, Clint had spent some time there after team training to clear his head. He was doing that a lot lately.
“Alright everyone, dinner’s ready!” Steve announced to the group.
“I’ll go look for Clint, he can’t miss anymore meals.” Phil said. The archer decided not to make his partner go on a wild goose chase and simply lifted up the ceiling panelling, poking his head out. “Don’t bother Phil, I’m here.” He said before dropping down to the floor.
“Were you there the whole time?” Steve asked, shocked.
Coulson just shook his head with a smile on his face, “Come here” he pulled Clint close, going for a kiss on the head, but pulled back to swipe his hand through his hair, laughing, “You’re all dusty.”
“Well, someone clearly doesn’t clean their vents very often.”
“And why should I? There should not be people inside my vents.” Said Tony, offended.
“I suggest you clean your vents Stark.” Phil said, suppressing a laugh.
***
Ten minutes later they were all seated at the table, enjoying Steve’s spaghetti bolognese. Phil was talking loudly with the whole team, engaging with them to try and avoid them paying much attention to Clint. So that he could eat without any focus on him. Clint knew that was what he was doing, but the rest of the team didn’t seem to notice. It kind of made Clint love his partner even more. The archer had had some problems with food ever since he’d returned from Afghanistan. While a prisoner, he had been denied food more often than not, and when he had been fed, the food had been so old and rotten that it was impossible to keep down, and sometimes it had actually been drugged. So, at first, he had been scared to eat anything, terrified it would make him sick, or knock him out. But he supposed it came back to the issue of his loss of control, and wanting to get it back. Not that what he was doing was helping at all, he knew that logically, no one here was trying to harm him, but his brain wouldn’t cooperate. He looked down at his half-finished bolognese, and his stomach turned.
“So,” Tony said, pulling Clint out of his spiralling thoughts, “Why haven’t you two lovebirds made it official yet?”
“Uh… Well- “ Clint stuttered.
“Well, you know how S.H.I.E.L.D is Tony, we don’t ever have any free time to plan something as big as a wedding.” Phil stepped in, seeing Clint panic.
“We could all help you out if you wanted? It might make things a lot easier.” Bruce interjected.
“Yeah, that could be fun. I’ve never planned a wedding before.” Natasha said.
“Well, we really appreciate that, but maybe right now’s just not a good time.” Phil said, looking carefully at Clint.
“It’s fine Phil, you don’t need to cover for me. What he really means is that every time we try and plan the future I freak out and get all messed up… So yeah, that’s why we still haven’t gotten married.” Clint explained, looking guiltily at his fiancée. “But I mean… If you still want to…” Clint suddenly looked at the others in the room, embarrassed, and switched to sign language. “Like, I know I’m all messed up, but I think maybe now… I’d be ready.”
“Of course I still want to Clint, of course, I love you and I always will. But are you sure now is the right time? It’s been a rough few weeks.” Phil signed back.
“Maybe that’s all the more reason to do it? No matter what happens you’re always there for me and you always look after me on my bad days. And… I really love you too, I want to spend the rest of my life with you Phil Coulson.” Clint signed.
“So. Do you want black ties or purple?” Natasha asked loudly. Phil and Clint looked up at her, shocked.
“You know ASL?” Clint asked.
“Of course I do.” Nat signed before switching back to speaking, “Widows are taught as many languages as possible, and even though you only really sign with Phil, I made sure not to let my skills go rusty.”
“Wow, I can’t believe you’ve known ASL all these years and you never told me. And obviously we want purple ties. Right?” Clint directed the last word to Phil.
“Baby, I’d wear any colour of the rainbow for you.” The man responded.
“Dude, that was so horrifically cheesy.” Tony said with a grimace, “But anyway, I love planning a good wedding, and I’m happy to contribute funds. Where are we thinking? Beach? Garden? Hall? Tell me you don’t want a church…” As Tony drabbled on, Clint started to feel warm inside. He looked up and met Phil’s eyes, and the smile they gave each other held the promise of a long, peaceful future.