Shutting the door behind him, Phil was still tense and on edge after the day he’d had at work. Anything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and now he just wanted everything to stop.
Shrugging off his jacket, Phil dropped his briefcase by the door and shuffled into the living room. He could hear Clint in the kitchen and normally he would call out to him or go in and say hello, but today, today he knew he just needed a few minutes of silence.
Letting himself just drop onto the soft leather of their sofa, Phil leaned his head back and closed his eyes and let the feel and smells of home surround him. Whatever Clint was cooking smelled delicious and there was definitely something sweet baking in the oven. Turning his head to the side, Phil caught the scent of him and Clint and he smiled softly remembering their weekend movie marathon.
“Phil?”
Eyes still closed, Phil turned his head toward Clint’s voice. “Hmm?”
“Bad day?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Phil heard the sound of ice in a glass and finally opened his eyes. Clint was standing in front of him, a tumbler of scotch held out and waiting. He took the glass and smiled softly at Clint. “I love you.”
Clint grinned, eyes sparkling as he watched Phil take his first sip. “I know you do. It’s impossible not to. Did you want to talk about it, or would you rather just listen to some music?”
“Music, please.”
Phil relaxed further into the couch when he felt Clint kiss the top of his head as he left. Taking another sip of scotch, music began playing softly through the house and Phil let the soft strains of jazz bring him out of his bad mood.
It wasn’t long after that Clint came to fetch him for dinner. Clint blushed as Phil eagerly dug into his spaghetti and complimented Clint’s cooking. “It’s just spaghetti.”
Dipping his bread into the sauce, Phil looked over at Clint. “Yes, but you made it, for me, and I really appreciate it. And after the day I’ve had, it tastes especially nice having something homemade.”
Once they’d finished, Clint stood to clear the plates, but Phil stopped him and kissed his cheek. “Together?”
Clint nodded and together they washed the dishes side by side, both feeling happy and at ease so close to each other. As they finished, Clint leaned into Phil’s side. “I made dessert too.”
“What if I want something else?” Phil turned and pressed his lips to Clint’s, caging him in against the counter.
Moving into Phil, Clint’s hands moved over his back. “Anything you want. Brownies can wait til after.”
Smiling against Clint’s lips, Phil grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom.