Quiet Moments (Clint/Coulson/Fury)
This, for the record, was not what Phil had planned for their anniversary. No, they were supposed to be in Aruba, with sand and sun and those stupid alcoholic concoctions Clint calls drinks, not home in New York with snow and bruises and an injured archer. (When he thinks about it, it's typical of their attempts to take a vacation, but it still bothers him because damnit, they deserve time off. Unrelated-to-being-injured-time-off.)
"Easy," Phil murmurs.
Instead of their warm vacation (that Nick had been looking forward to for several reasons. Chief among them the sight of Clint in a bathing suit), they're stuck in the middle of storm—twelve inches and counting—with the heat on high and Clint dosed on painkillers.
"I'm trying," Clint replies, his good arm braced on the side of the jacuzzi as Nick helps to settle the younger man down. He grunts as his ass hits the seat, then groans a few seconds later; between the drugs, the heat of the water, and the swirling jets, Clint's bunched muscles are beginning to relax, the pain abating, and Phil breathes out in relief.
"Told you—nothing better than a jump in the jacuzzi to make you feel better."
Tony is standing beside the controls, fingertip trailing over something that Phil suspects is the heat setting and nudges it a bit higher. He nods toward Clint then winks when Fury turns around to toss the shirt he'd been wearing onto the floor.
Clint smirks back, then closes his eyes and asks Phil, "You getting in or what?"
Phil's eyes roll of their own accord, but he slips into the water and sits down in the empty space on Clint's left; Nick's on Clint's right, a glass tumbler in his hand that's filled with something dark and vintage and Clint can't have. His other arm is thrown out and his fingers are curled in the fine fringe of hair at Phil's neck, across Clint's shoulders.
They're silent—not the heavy lull of brooding, but the soft comfort of a stolen moment—and Clint's breathing is starting to even out. (It will be one of the last few moments of calm they'll get, because after this they'll have to actually explain their decade-old relationship and Tony will use every free moment to tease the three of them until Fury threatens Tony with something unpleasant, and Steve will be nauseatingly supportive until he cracks and starts asking questions because yeah, there really isn't much out there to explain this kind of relationship to a man who is still figuring out how to use a computer. Bruce will shrug, Thor will look perplexed, and Natasha already knew so she'll just grin at the rest of her boys.)
Clint sinks down into the water a little, asleep, and Nick presses a kiss to his temple. "You two will be the death of me, you know that?"
"I know, boss." The title is spoke with such clear affection.