Clint pauses in the doorway, a slight smirk spreading on his face as he watches the man curled on the oversized, overstuffed couch in the centre of Stark's living room, his eyes intent on the screen in front of him where a woman is currently screaming someone's name and shouting for whomever she's calling to run. He can't help but shake his head as he recalls exactly what movie is playing on the large television.
Somewhere in Stark's attempts to catch Rogers up on the past seventy some years he had slept through, he had gotten the brilliant idea to sit them all down and have a Bourne movie marathon. In the span of one Saturday, all the Avengers living at Avengers Tower had been forced to sit through all four of the Bourne movies. Clint and Natasha had taken great joy in mocking the film for some of the more unrealistic action sequences that they knew from experience would never work - although they came to a mutual agreement that beating someone up with a rolled up magazine was possible. There was a running pool going now as to which assassin ended up testing that trick out first - and which one would be successful in the matter.
So far, Natasha was in the lead.
But, back to Bourne, that day was the day Phil fell in love - or lust or both - with an actor.
None of the other Avengers knew, as far as Clint could tell, that Phil had become so taken the actor from the fourth Bourne movie - some guy by the name of Jeremy Renner who Stark had taken great pleasure in pointing out just how similar to Clint the actor looked - which made Clint's eye twitch, but Phil had just laced his fingers through Clint's and didn't say anything, silently ordering Clint to leave it alone. So Clint had.
For the rest of the night.
The next morning though, Stark had been quite...irate when he discovered his precious coffee stash had disappeared and be replaced by - gasp - generic decaf. Sure, Stark had been moody for a few days, but it was entertaining to watch Rogers and Banner try and calm him down.
Shaking his head, Clint focuses back on his handler and - boyfriend? Partner? He's still not entirely sure. Regardless, Phil had somehow gotten his hands on the rest of the films Renner had been in - Clint suspected Stark was involved with that - and was slowly working his way through them. He had to bite back a laugh as he continued to watch Phil. His handler was even sitting with his hands wedged up under his chin and a doofy grin on his face like a schoolgirl with a crush.
Were he anyone else, he might have been jealous or upset that Phil was obsessed with this person he'd never even met - and probably never would - but Clint's just happy Phil even keeps him in his life - he doesn't have time for petty jealousy when either one of them could die any day or Phil could wake up and realize just how much better than Clint he could do.
Forcing those thoughts away, Clint eases his way into the room, jumping up onto the back of the couch with little effort and crawling to sit behind Phil. It's a sign of how into the movie he is that Phil doesn't even flinch or try to kill him as he rests his hands on the older man's shoulders. He can feel the muscles tense under his hands for half a moment before Phil relaxes again.
Clint leans in, breath ghosting over Phil's ear, "come to bed," he murmurs quietly, kneading a silent promise of the fun to be had in bed if Phil joined him into Phil's shoulders.
"After the movie."
He rolls his eyes in fond exasperation and pulls Phil back against him, resting his chin on the top of Phil's head, eyes glancing to the screen in front of them. He let his arms dangle over Phil's shoulders, getting drawn into the movie and occasionally making comments about it, just to feel Phil chuckle under him. At one point, Phil's hand curls around his ankle and the warmth that spreads from that spot is more than enough to warm Clint's whole body for the rest of the night.
When the feeling hits him, it's almost like being run over by the Hulk or being on the receiving end of one of Stark's repulsor blasts or Cap's shield. One moment, he's watching Phil's crush shoot a civilian against orders, the next he's overcome by utter contentment. Sitting here, like this, with Phil, just the two of them, breathing in the silence of each other and watching a movie, no world ending around them, it's more freeing than any kill he's ever made and suddenly his breath is caught in his throat.
Phil must feel him tense because suddenly his handler is twisting in his grasp just a bit to glance up at him in concern. His mouth works open and closed, his voice trying to return to him so he can say something but all he can do is offer Phil the broadest, most true smile he's ever felt himself smile before he's leaning down to press his lips against Phil's in a short kiss.
He pulls back, forehead touching Phil's, his eyes bright with happiness, and murmurs, for the first time, "I love you."
Phil's answering smile makes his heart skip several beats and he knows...he knows that he finally belongs somewhere.