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#it's literally not his fault that he busts it down violent style any time he lets his mind wander.
clowndensation · 1 year
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the world's saddest blond boy just got his "golden retriever bf" license revoked on account of all the atrocities. yeah he's averaging about one ever fifteen minutes.
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banashee · 4 years
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  Just another day, another mountain to climb together
 One moment, he’s just minding his business, then someone jumps at him. Or, more precisely,      on     him.
 It probably should be noted that this isn’t a “I will violently murder you”-jump, it’s… More of a “Save me and carry me bridal style”-jump. Clint holds out his arms out of sheer instinct and drops his Starbucks Cup in the process. Aw, coffee, no.
 He looks wide eyed and confused when he realizes that he’s holding none other than Tony, who blinks owlishly at him and looks just as confused, as if he only just realized what the hell is happening. If he did, that is, because Clint has no fucking clue what in the hell is even going on.
 “The fuck?” he asks, because yeah, that.
 “Uh.” Tony replies very eloquently, and he looks like he won’t be any help. He’s pale with giant purple eyebags and a messy beard in his face, wearing clothes that are stained with unknown substances and could possibly stand on their own. It’s clear that he’s been awake for far too long, and that, in turn, explains a lot.
 “There was a loud noise.” he offers, and yeah, there is a folder on the floor where it just slipped from the kitchen table. Now that he looks - with Tony still in his arms because he’ll probably fall right on his ass if he puts him down right now - Tony is also clutching the back of his shirt, although he now slowly, very slowly let’s go of it - Clint can see Phil hunched over on his seat, one hand pressed over his mouth and shoulders shaking. He fails to suppress his chortling laughter, though.
 “I’m sorry, it’s just - your faces!” he manages, and then proceeds to laugh his ass off. He is right though - Clint is pretty sure they look like something straight out of a comedy movie, and if he’s honest, anything that catches Phil off-guard and makes him laugh like that is well worth it.
 “I dropped my fucking coffee for you.” he then dryly informs Tony, who actually looks a bit sorry about that - Clint blames it on the clear lack of sleep because otherwise this asshole would laugh it off and say, “Too bad.” before pulling a new cup from somewhere soon-ish as a peace offering because they all live off of caffeine and no one messes      too much    with that.
 Now though, he doesn't say anything and Clint is pretty sure he might just fall asleep there if he'd let him - he deposits him on a chair, which leads Tony to sway back and forth a little bit while Clint makes a beeline for the coffee machine to get a new cup - it’s not like there isn’t more than enough caffeinated drinks here, but he’s been craving a sugary coffee shop monstrosity so that’s what he’d gotten. And promptly dropped it to catch a sleep deprived engineer, apparently, because that’s just his life these days.
 He takes care of the mess while the coffee runs through.
  When Clint turns back around, Tony is snoring lightly, toppled over with his head on Phils shoulder, who just keeps reading the report in his hands.
 When Clint sits down on the table, Tony startles awake, and blinks a few times.
 “I’m awake. Totally awake.” One side of his hair is sticking up everywhere and he looks more confused than ever. And also kind of adorable.
 “You were snoring.”
 “I do that when I’m awake.”
 “Sure you do.” He’s smirking, and inhales his coffee as Tony nods along to his words, rather enthusiastically, and promptly falls back asleep.
 He shares a look with Phil, who smiles in silent amusement, and steals a sip of coffee from Clint's mug.
 *+~ flashback ~+*
 The two of them are pretty close ever since they really got to know each other after the Battle of New York, all Capital Letters and all over the news. That particular week left everyone a mess - some more than others, but still.
 Clint has to deal with the aftermath of mindfuckery, total loss of control and killing friends, coworkers and innocent people in the process. He has to deal with being partly responsible for a lot of fucked up things including an alien invasion and even though it wasn’t him holding the spear, his intel is what lead Loki to stabbing Phil through the chest.
 Clint has to deal with being responsible for the death of his husband, the love of his life. That alone is enough to wreck him completely.
 SHIELD keeps questioning every word and move, and decided it would be safer for everyone if Clint spends the time it took them all to figure out whether or not he is to blame locked up in a windowless cell. He’d completely shut down at this point, and when he wakes up one day, he finds himself in a warm, clean and comfortable bed in a room in the tower with no memory of how he’d even gotten there.
 Turns out, SHIELD released him, and Natasha had busted him out as soon as she possibly could. He asks her about that later, and she quietly admits that she would have gotten him out, no matter what. But the fact that it had happened in a legal way would be in his favor - instead of having to run and hide somewhere far away, he is now able to live, rest and heal in the Avengers Tower where he’s around friends.
 Living with a bunch of people he’d only met a small handful of times before should be awkward, but it’s not. It just - works. Quite well even, once they’ve gotten to know each other a bit, started to thaw around each other, learned to trust and let themselves be.
 It feels good to be around people. It feels good to have company, to be able to seek out another human being even late at night when loneliness or grief hits.
 Anytime Tony closes his eyes since the battle, all he sees is stars and a wide, open space that’s way too far to make out with the human eye. It’s an endless void of galaxies, stars and planets, all scattered about space and not nearly enough time in a single humans life to discover it all. It should be beautiful and fascinating, but anytime he thinks about it, he’s terrified out of his mind and breathing gets hard for a while after.
 He stops sleeping whenever he can, because the nightmares are worse than insomnia. Everything gets mixed up, and his recent space travel with a nuke is just the icing on this fucked up, scary cake of baggage.
 So, it’s only natural that at some point, he crosses ways with another resident of the tower, while he wanders about at night because JARVIS locked him out of his workshop. He does that sometimes, just to make sure Tony doesn’t seriously injures himself  or sets the entire place on fire.
 To be fair, he hasn’t slept in      days     and he doesn’t think about the fact that Clint might not be wearing his ears when he steps up behind him in the half dark kitchen without a word.
 He is reminded of it when the archer startles and turns quickly, one hand reaching for the kitchen knife on the counter, eyes wide and tremors running through his entire body before he tenses up completely, ready for combat. When he grasps a second later that it’s Tony who he’s looking at, staring in horror, he immediately drops the weapon to the floor.
 “Fuck! Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-” He’s breathing hard, and there is something dark and painful in his blue eyes, before he pulls himself together and pushes it back.
 “I’m sorry.” he repeats, a little calmer this time, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Or hurt you.”
 “It’s okay, I guess I should have said something, or-”      ‘Great idea, Stark.’     he thinks, cringing inwardly but it doesn’t seem to bother Clint. He just looks on his lips while he's talking, which seems to help him make out the words. Clint nods in understanding as Tony finishes off with an apology of his own.
 Both of them need a bit of time to compose themselves, and luckily, there is a fresh, hot pot of coffee on the table. They share it in silence, then Clint says,
 “You can, you know.” Tony looks over, questioning and heavy-lidded. He really is tired, but sleep means nightmares. Unless he just keeps going until he passes out - he’s usually too wiped to dream anything, then.
 “Talk to me when you walk up behind me and I’m not wearing my ears, I mean.”  Clint clarifies, “I’ll be able to tell that there is a noise, better than just footsteps.”
 “Oh. Okay, that’s good to know. I’ll do that next time.”
 “Thanks, Tony.” he rubs his face, and stares into his half empty mug of coffee for a moment, then he keeps talking.
 “Are you okay?”
 The question surprises him a bit, and Tony is about to throw in a quip about still standing and not getting stabbed that day. But he’s literally too tired for snark, and the question seems both genuine and general. So, despite himself, he answers honestly.
 "Not really. Haven't slept in a while." he doesn't say anything about a wormhole and aliens, but it seems to be in the air. And as it is, Clint nods in understanding.
 "Yeah, I get that."  And he does. He can't remember the last time he slept more than 1 or 2 hours at a time, let alone through the night.
 It must have been way before all of this, when he'd spent a rare long weekend off at home with Phil. It was their last vacation, their last bit of free time home together, ever. The following week they had to depart to base in New Mexico for the Pegasus OP.
 They spent most of this time wrapped around each other in bed, because it had been a nasty, stormy week. Their apartment in Brooklyn was well heated, comfortable and lived in, but body heat has always been their favorite way to keep each other warm, and-
 Clint blinks a few times, coming back to the cold reality. No cozy off time with Phil, because he is dead and it's his fault.
 A pang of longing and grief stabs him in the heart, and Clint doesn't say anything more, hoping it's dark enough in the room so he can hide the shine of sadness in his eyes.
 He feels nausea rise in his throat, but downs the rest of his coffee nonetheless in an attempt to swallow it along with his emotions.
 Neither he or Tony say another word for hours. They simply sit in silence at the kitchen table at 3am, share another pot of coffee and breathe along with a friend because it's the only thing they can do to keep themselves going.
  It works. For a little while, it's enough.
 *~+
 Nights spent in silence and drinking coffee turn into keeping each other company through the nights. It is a desperate attempt to fill the cold space next to them in a bed and keep the night terrors at bay. They can’t and don’t want to replace romantic partners, but just being close to another human that they trust is enough to keep them going. A warm body to curl around, as to not feel as alone anymore.
 Time passes by, and things get better, although the struggles never really disappear.
 One day, Clint realizes that several months have passed since the battle and Phil dying and everything else. He needs to sit down in shock when he thinks about that, and the fact that he now can live, eat, sleep and laugh, even though the pain is still present in the back of his mind, leaves him stunned for a while as he remains on the spot without moving.
 Some days, he is genuinely happy and doesn’t really think about it very much, and if he’s lucky that holds up for a few more days. Then again, there are days, or of it’s bad, weeks, where everything hits at once and it hurts just as bad as it did at the beginning.
 There is at least some kind of balance, and he manages life as best as he can. Having the others around helps tremendously.
 While Clint is kind of a loner by habit, he is actually dependent on a small group of people around him by nature. It’s not something he likes to think about, because words like “failure”, “useless” and “weak” keep creeping through his brain, even when he firmly tells it to shut the hell up.
 As it is, he actually enjoys the company of his teammates a lot.
 He’s close to Natasha of course, seeing as they’ve been best friends for years and always have each others back.
 Whether they walk into battle side by side or beat each other’s asses on the sparring mats, compete on the shooting range, share meals or just hang out, whether they curl up somewhere just to share each other's company and body heat, it doesn't matter.  They work together like a well oiled machine and it’s a bit of home left over from the early days for both of them and they keep close to each other whenever they’re in the same place.
 Sometimes though, there are days or weeks where they’re apart for mission related or other reasons. They keep in touch if they can, but life is not quite the same then.
 Over the time, Clint get’s comfortable around everyone else as well. Surprisingly, or not really, because they’re similar in quite a few aspects, he quickly forms a friendship with Tony.
 Both of them are around at the tower a lot of the time and both of them are more or less of a disaster. They randomly meet at all hours of the day or night, keeping each other company and bond quickly.
 What starts out as sharing coffee and spaces in the middle of the night turns into spending free time with one another and at some point even sharing a bed to help each other through cold and lonely nights. It sounds wrong when you say it like that, but there really is nothing sexual about it. They’re close, and both of them have enough trust issues that they’re happy to have another friend they can be that close with.
 Neither could tell when they started to jokingly flirt on occasion or call each other awful pet names.
 “Hey Snuggluffagus.” - “What’s up, Shmoopie.”
 “Oh, hi Honeybun, can you come down to the lab later?” - “Sure thing, Cupcake.”
 It makes everyone around them groan without a fail, and leaves them with the desire to scrub their brains with bleach because most those names are just      that terrible.    They’re all having a laugh about it  - whatever brightens the day.
 Clint is also close with Bruce, Steve and Thor, who are around more or less often depending on their schedules but they all get along fine. They share meals and time not fighting whatever it is that week, and soon grow a steady friendship as well.
 He likes to cook or bake with Bruce, or watch nature documentaries in the middle of the night with him. Clint is fascinated with birds, something that he makes Bruce swear to keep to himself because the jokes about that and his codename would never die down. Ever. No one needs that. So they keep each other company on late nights and early mornings - sometimes even with a person or two more, and then it's easy to forget the crippling feeling of loneliness for a while.
 Bruce knows loneliness. He also knows what it is like to lose control and kill innocent people in the process. It's not great common ground, but it's a strong one. They don't talk very often about it, but it's nice to know that someone      understands    .
 Bruce is incredibly easy to get along with, too. He is a sweet guy, keeping mostly to himself at first but once he trusts and relaxes, he's a lot of fun to be around, dry humor and excitable about anything really, especially if one utters the magic words "for science".
 One day, when Clint is in the gym and working out  Bruce enters the room in a jog, rumpled and sleepless after days down in the lab, but clearly happy about something. He  then spends about an hour telling Clint about the newest breakthrough in one of his projects, simply because he's closest at the moment, jogging along and later sitting on his Teammates back as a human weight. He keeps on chatting the entire time, explaining things in a manner that Clint even      gets     what Bruce is working on and why it is exciting. It's interesting, and he thinks it's nice that someone seeks him out for the sole purpose of sharing excitement about something important to them.
 Steve, once he drops the Captain Persona and is confident in being himself, is easy to get along with as well - a lot easier probably than he gets credit for, but he'd never ask for that. He is a good guy to talk to in general, sweet and polite, but also a snarky asshole once he grows comfortable around people - he's pretty great to be around.
 Steve likes to do anything and everything that involves new technology or information of any kind, especially art, and he explores the 21st century with almost childlike wonder. It often reminds Clint that the guy is in his  20s - people tend to forget that he's that young, what with Steve being a national icon and often being referred to as "almost 100 years old" and all that but it doesn't really count of you've spent the majority of those years asleep and frozen, right? It really is sad to think about.
 As capable, strong and intelligent as Steve is, Clint feels protective of him - he feels that way about all of his teammates actually, even though most of them could snap him in half if they really wanted to. It doesn't change a thing.
 Thor doesn't spend as much time down on Midgard, but when he does, he's always great company. He is loud and booming in almost everything he does, happily lifting the others off of their feet when he pulls them into bone crushing hugs and smiles and laughs so radiantly - it brightens the entire day, and that in itself is another superpower of their resident God of Thunder.
 Thor likes to turn meals into massive feasts, trading stories until the sun rises again, and they cook breakfast together while the conversation never stops. Those are good times, and it brings them all closer together.
 But he also has a gentle, much more quiet side to him that they hadn't known of before. Thor is always willing to spend a sleepless night with one or more of them, offering company and words of encouragement or advice, or simply silence and a strong shoulder to lean or cry on, depending on what is needed of him. He happily provides all of it.
 Clint has talked to him about the battle, about Loki and everything after. He does so at a time where he isn't up to talking about these things with anyone except maybe Natasha, and it's hard. They sit on the rooftop at night, watching the sky even though there are no stars visible due to the light pollution. Clint doesn't look directly at him, stubbornly keeping his eyes on the city below them until his vision is blurry from tears.
 Thor doesn't say a word about it, he simply puts his arm around the smaller man's frame and lets him lean into the gentle touch.
 The night is chilly, but with him, Clint doesn't feel the cold and stays close until he can breathe again.
 *+~
 Since Clint spends a significant amount of time with Tony these days , naturally, he spends a lot of it with Rhodey and Pepper as well, whenever any of the two is around. And really, it doesn't take long at all to see why Tony loves them so much.
 Pepper is smart, strong and capable, which is always something that Clint can appreciate. But she's also such a kind person while simultaneously not taking anyone's shit - it's a rare and admirable combination in a person that way too many are lacking.
 She is also a massive nerd, about art and movies and anything else that might catch her interest. This reminds Clint of Phil, often times, because he'd had a lot in common with Pepper and called her a dear friend.
 It is a regrettable coincidence that Clint has met her only after everything had gone to shit. It's a shame, really.
 Rhodey is, in anything but blood, Tony's brother. He looks out for him, and the people around him because he cares and it's who he is. It helps that he'll always call him out on his bullshit, too.
 He's funny and protective and a great friend - Clint likes him immediately. Everyone is in agreement that Rhodey isn't around nearly often enough, but he comes over whenever he can.
 Usually, Tony is right there to greet him, but one day, he's running an update on Jarvis who usually announces any visitor, so Tony isn't in the living room when Rhodey steps out of the elevator - Clint can practically smell his once in a lifetime opportunity and grins widely before he turns to yell into the other room:
 "Tony, your common sense arrived!"
 It's met with an clatter of something, followed by an enthusiastic shout of "Rhodey!!" and the man in question bursting into roaring laughter.
 "Just how long did you wait to make that joke, Clint?" he asks the archer with an amused sparkle in his dark eyes.
 "Months, dude. Months. I'm way too happy about this." Clint confesses unashamedly, and then Tony comes running to tackle his best friend into a hug and to the floor.
 It’s a strange mix of people, but they’re all pretty damn great in their own ways, and together, this seemingly impossible concoction works out beautifully.
 No one in this household sleeps a lot or very well to begin with, so meeting up at odd hours is normal for them, too. It helps to be known and understood, and soon, they all keep each other company whenever it’s needed, too.
 Clint has spent most of his life lonely, and yet, the nearly 12 years of relationship and even more as friends he's had with Phil taught him that company doesn't have to hurt, that it can be the most wonderful thing in the world to wake up enveloped with another person under warmy heavy sheets. Those years taught him what trust and love and comfort really feel like.
 Now, that Phil has been taken from him, he can no longer stand to fall asleep and wake up alone in an empty bed.
 He's eternally grateful to have found this team.
 He's eternally grateful that Tony spends as many nights with him as he does and they wrap around each other to breathe in the warmth and comfort of one another.
 They fit - in a different way but still and Clint vows not to think too much about that. The guilt of thinking about "what if" and "maybe" feels like a punch to the guts, and Clint keeps that to himself as he's falling asleep with his head pillowed on Tony, with the faint blue shine of the Arc reactor right by his face as gentle fingers sleepily brush through his hair.
 *~+
 More time goes by, and life is life, as much as it can be for a bunch of damaged people who save the world on a semi-regular basis and stick together before and after.
 Then, one day, everything changes again, because as they find out that Phil is alive and still in medical where he recovered not only from getting stabbed back with Loki's spear, but also, mostly still recovering, from the invasive and party alien procedure that ended up saving his life.
 And no one bothered to tell Clint, or anyone else for that matter. They only find out because Tony is digging through top secret SHIELD files via JARVIS, because he is suspicious and ridden with the constant need to find answers. When he comes across those particular files, he curses up a blue storm and rushes upstairs to tell Clint and Nat and then the rest of the team.
 It’s like every wound rips open again, and Clint is about to personally murder Nick Fury. The rest of the team is tempted to let him - but at the end of the day, the director walks away alive while the Avengers pile onto a jet to get to the medical facility that holds Phil.
 Tony is piloting the jet while the others pace and Natasha is crammed into the tiny bathroom with Clint who is busy fighting off a panic attack and clinging onto her for dear life. Besides the panic about everything crashing down around him, he is torn between excitement about getting to see his husband again, something he’d thought impossible and had to learn to live with, and being scared shitless of anything going wrong. What if Phil doesn’t want to see him, or worse, what if he doesn’t remember him after all that was done to bring him back to life?
 But for once, life is kind.
 When Clint knocks and enters the room cautiously, while the team is staying behind in the hallway to give them privacy and not to overwhelm Phil, the look on Phil's face turns from empty exhaustion to genuinely surprised happiness when he realizes who is coming. He is pale and has lost way too much weight, but he lights up like a christmas tree at the sight of his husband.
 “Clint? Hey, it’s good to see you, Honey.” He sounds rough, but the sparkle in his eyes speaks volumes.
 “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier, Phil. I- we had no idea.” Clint crosses the room in a few steps, and sits down on the edge of the bed before his knees give up beneath him. Phil immediately reaches out for him, and he gets a hold of his hand and doesn’t let go. Clint leans as close as he can, and Phil melts against the touch. They hold onto each other for a while - it’s been too long.
 “How are you?” he asks, and despite his best attempts to hold back, there are tears stinging in his eyes and seconds later, they drip down onto the bed sheet.
 “I’m healing. I just - I’m glad you’re here, Clint. I’ve missed you so much.” Phil tightens his hold around Clint, as if he’s afraid he’ll be gone if he lets go of him. Clint hugs back as hard as he dares, too scared he might accidentally hurt him.
 “Are you okay?” Phil asks then, but he has a feeling he already knows the answer. Clint stays silent for a while after that, just nods slightly. Then he says,
 “I’ve missed you, too. I can’t even - this is insane, but I’m so happy you’re alive. I love you, Phil.”
 He hasn’t said that yet, and it seems about time. Phil smiles, and kisses his scruffy jaw.
 “I love you, too.” then he asks, “Did Nick finally tell you what happened after- ? I’ve bugged him about it since I woke up, but he said it wasn’t possible.”
 Phil sounds resigned, and it just about breaks Clint’s heart. It seems so unnecessary and unfair that they both had to do this alone and without each other when they’d been through so much together before, had been each others rock for so many years.
 “Nick didn’t tell me shit.” Clint says darkly, gently running one hand up and down Phil’s back,  “I only found out because Tony was digging through SHIELD files. He does that sometimes.” He shrugs, unconcerned, and Phil huffs a laugh.
 “Of course he would.”
 “Just a normal tuesday, really. But this time he came across more, and when he realized you’re still alive, well… He told me right away, and Tasha, too. The others are all here as well and they’re waiting outside. But they’ll want to see you, too.”
 “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”
 As it is, Natasha is the first to join them - she’s missed Phil almost as much as Clint did, and she stays close to both of them for the entire time, even when the other Avengers slowly trickle into the room.
 Something heavy seems to fall off of them, and while everyone makes themselves comfortable around the room, Clint feels like something clicks into place.
 *+~
 Phil is happy to be able to get out of the hospital - Clint and Natasha stay with him the entire time until he’s released. It happens sooner than originally planned, but there is medical care near at all times back home in the tower.
 There is also one hell of a lot more privacy and people he actually wants to be around.
 Getting to know the team as they are now is exciting he finds. He is very pleasantly surprised to see how much they have all grown together, to see how they function around and with each other in everyday life and in battle.
 Phil is also happy to see that the two people he considered his family for years, have opened up to accept others around them. For as long as he's known Clint and Natasha, they’d always preferred to keep their circles small, for many reasons, trust issues right on top. But now, he can see them happy and comfortable surrounded by a group of people. They don’t wear any kind of masks, are comfortable with physical contact and even seek it out on their own terms.
 The only natural thing to happen is that Phil is accepted and included in it all without any question - friendships form quickly, and he is quietly relieved that he doesn’t need to keep up his bland Agent facade all the time - it makes him feel at home.
 One day, he is solving a crossword puzzle on the common room couch, with Clint knitting on a fuzzy, purple sock on one side and Pepper tapping away on her tablet on the other. On the far side of the couch, on Clint’s right, Tony is inhaling a cup of black coffee while simultaneously talking their ears off about a movie he’s found recently. It’s a horrible zombie apocalypse thing with even more horrendous reviews - naturally, he’s trying to win them over to vote for it on the next movie night to poke fun at. It’s one of his favourite things to do, and he’s already got Thor and Clint on his side - not a hard thing to achieve, since they’re always up for crap TV and crap movies.
 Pepper says, “Absolutely not, I can already see my braincells leave the room in tears.”
 Phil… Is seriously thinking about agreeing to the movie, just to see where it’ll take them. He’s curious. And kind of in a constant state of “might as well” now that he’s got another chance to live his life.
 He’s listening to the debate with half an ear, slight grin on his lips.
 “Of course it’s fucking stupid, that’s the point.” Clint says, looking up from his work for a moment, mischief sparkling in his eyes.
 “Oh god, please don’t tell me you guys found another one of those zombie movies.” Steve answers as he walks into the room with the cordless vacuum cleaner. Despite having a whole army of robots for all sorts of things in the tower, he likes to do things the old fashioned way - a lot. The compromise had been this thing - at least it’s almost soundless.
 “Alright, then we’re not going to tell you.” Tony shrugs, and downs another sip of coffee.
 Steve sighs, and Phil pulls his feet up to the couch to make space for him. Which is a good thing - because a second later, the couch hangs about six and a half feet up in the air and slightly tilted to the side because Steve just lifts it up like a fucking cardboard box to clean underneath it.
 Pepper lands half on Phil’s lap, casually tapping away on her tablet as if nothing happened, Phil topples over onto Clint, who wraps one arm around him but keeps up his conversation with Tony, who holds onto his coffee mug for dear life as three people suddenly slide right on top of him, but he’s otherwise unconcerned.
 Phil figures that this is just a normal part of life in this household and that he might as well get used to it.
 ~+* now *+~
 Tony is inwardly cursing himself. This, whatever “this” is, is getting out of hand.
 Yes, he’s flirting and yes he’s joking and he gets just as much of it back, but… Clint is married. He’s married      to Phil     and the two of them don’t need any more trouble, especially now that things have finally fallen into a good place for them after everything.
 He’s grown close to Clint in the last year, and sometimes, secretly, a small part in the back of his mind had wondered what might have been under different circumstances. He doesn’t dare, too afraid of losing not one but two good friends. But of course, he can’t keep his big mouth shut and continues to go on as always - stupid pet names met with corny one-liners, extragged winks and air-kisses thrown over the distance of the room.
 And it doesn’t seem to bother them - it’s comfortable banter, and apart from Phil being there, nothing really has changed, which is impressive. All of them share spaces and cuddle up somewhere as always, and there is nothing weird about it.
 One movie night - it’s another awful zombie movie because those fucking things are a tradition at this point - he’s tired enough to doze off several times, his head resting on Clint’s shoulder, who is snuggled up against Phil but still keeps one arm wrapped around him as he drifts off into sleep. He startles awake again at the sound of gunshots from the TV. His heartbeat increased and Tony is slightly confused to what is happening - his brain screams panic, but there is someone gently touching him. The hand that belongs to the arm still wrapped around him rubs small circles into his upper arm, and a calm voice tells him,
 “You’re safe. It’s just the movie.”
 Right. Team movie night. He nods, as he slowly realizes where he is.
 “Okay. Thanks. I’ll just…” Tony breathes in and out a few times, and when he’s calm again, drifts back off to sleep. It must be in the middle of the night when he wakes up again, curled up on the couch with firm body next to him and to a hushed conversation. He keeps his eyes closed, too tired still and too comfortable to move.
 “Do you wanna stay with him? I’m not sure how he’ll react to waking up alone.”
 “Yeah, I think I’ll stay. You okay with that?”
 “Of course. Let me know if you need anything?”
 “Will do. I Love you, Phil.”
 “I love you, too. Sweet dreams.”
 “You, too.”
 Someone, probably Phil, spreads a big, plush blanket over both of them, and Tony falls back asleep to the soft murmur of his friends, a gentle hand running through his hair and with a mixture of happiness, guilt and longing in his chest.
 *+~
 “You two are close.” Phil says when they’re making breakfast in their apartment the next day.
 Clint looks over to Phil, knowing exactly what he’s asking and he is half expecting him to look either angry or disappointed, but he doesn’t. It’s a simple statement - and a true one at that. Clint turns down the heat on the stove so he can answer while looking his husband in the eyes.
 “Yes, we are. It’s… Tony’s helped me a lot, and I try to do the same.”
 A little smile appears on Phil’s face. Nothing big, nothing humorous. It’s one of the small, understanding smiles that used to catch Clint completely off-guard years ago before they even started dating, because he just never experienced human interactions in this way.
 “You do. It’s good to know that you have a support system. And   I’m glad that you weren’t alone after - you know, after.” It’s a sore topic for both of them, and neither likes to talk about it. Least of all early in the morning, but there is more to it now.
 “Me, too. I’m especially glad I got you back, though.”
 Clint needs to be close to Phil, so he turns off the stove to prevent their eggs from burning. Then he steps into his space and Phil wraps his arms around him, chin resting on his shoulder. They share a few moments of silence, and Clint can tell that there is another question in the air. He remains silent though, because he doesn’t want to take the opportunity from Phil to ask on his own terms - he owes him that much. The knot of guilt over his feelings sits tight in his stomach, too, and it prevents him from starting this inevitable conversation.
 His grip tightens, and Phil brushes a kiss on his temple.
 “Hey, Relax. It’s okay, I understand.”
 “I just-” His voice cracks and he needs to breathe carefully for a moment before the words just spill out and he can’t stop them anymore. “I thought you were dead and I’ve never felt more alone. Having someone there to hold onto helped a lot, and the whole team helped with that. But Tony is just, I don’t know. We just get along. Nothing happened between us.”  He needs to say this out loud, because while the logical part of his brain knows that they didn’t do anything wrong, another, nasty part inside of his head calls him a unfaithful cheater.
 “A romantic relationship with anybody was the last thing I wanted at that time. Just being close to someone felt good, and then we started making these dumb jokes and I don’t - “ Clint almost chokes on the words, but he keeps going, because he needs to tell the truth, but he’s also terrified he’ll fuck up the best thing that ever happened to him. There are tears burning in his eyes and he briefly wonders how the fuck he’s supposed to cope if everything around him is starting to fall apart again.
 “I don’t know when I actually started to fall in love with him. I’m sorry, Phil. I’m so sorry.”
 Clint doesn’t know what kind of reaction he expects really - his mind is too fuzzy for this by now, but Phil simply hugs him tighter, gently running one hand up and down his back and through his hair until he’s calmer.
 “You don’t need to be sorry for anything. Please believe me when I say that I understand.” Phil is speaking slowly and carefully, clearly trying to find the right words to voice the thoughts inside of his head.
 “I died. I died and then I was brought back to life and nobody knew, so I might as well have been dead. And in any case, all I want is for you to be happy. So even if anything had happened between the two of you? I’d be okay with that.”
 They cling to each other, half cooked breakfast and boiling water in the kettle completely forgotten.
 “We’re so incredibly lucky we got another chance at a life together.”
 “We are. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
 “Even now that you know I’ve fallen in love with another person as well?”
 “It doesn’t change anything for me. I love you, Clint.”
 “I love you, too. So much.” It’s true - he doesn’t have words big enough to even begin and describe just how much he loves Phil. They pull away from each other,  just a little bit - still touching, and just enough so they can look each other in the eyes. Both of them have been crying, and they clearly need a bit more time to simply hold onto each other, but Clint can feel a giant weight lifting off of his chest.
 The truth is out, and they’re still okay.
 *+~
 In the upcoming weeks, there isn’t much time for anything really - it’s like the evil geniuses and crazed super villains collectively decided that now is the perfect time to pull petty bullshit after petty bullshit to keep the Avengers busy. And busy is exactly what they are.
 Today, they’re almost,      almost     thankful that it’s just doombots. It’s almost like a vacation if they compare it to the last 20 missions, because they always figure out how to blow the damn things into oblivion, at least until Victor Von Doom comes up with something new - that guy has way too much time on his hands but it’s still much much better than having to fight Hydra, AIM, ridiculously overpowered, giant animal hybrids or whatever it is that time.
 Or worst of all, dealing with natural disasters. Those are always hard because most of the time, they can only recover bodies, carry the injured to what they can only hope is safety and help clean up the rubble - it’s awful and devastating, because they can’t do anything to stop it in the first place - all they can do is help after the fact and save whoever is still alive.
 Right now though, all they have to do is keeping evil robots from destroying Manhattan and it’s a lot more successful than they’d hoped for. The whole thing is done after about three hours, and then they get to go home - a flock of reporters is following them, shoving cameras and microphones into their faces.
 Clint is very tempted to feed the mic in his face to the guy holding it - with a lot of force. But that’s frowned upon when you’re one of “Earth’s mightiest heroes” so he settles on fantasizing about it while he plays one of his favourite games, along with Tony who is an expert in it.
 The game is called “How rude can I be to their faces while using words that are big and sound pretentious when all I’m really doing is tell them to fuck off.” and it’s very very satisfying after a day (or month) like this and all they want is to go home, shower, eat and fall into bed for two days straight.
 Once they are finally free to do just that, they enter the common floor dead on their feet, shuffling to the private elevator that brings them to their own apartments. They lean heavily on each other, with limbs that are twisted or broken, bruises that will last and stitched up with traces of dried up blood on them.
 Bruce, freshly de-hulked and half naked is nearly asleep standing up and propped up against Thor, who has one arm wrapped around him and the other still on Mjölnir. Steve rests against the metal wall of the elevator, and if it wasn’t for him and the Iron Man suit, Tony would be on his ass on the floor by now. But as it is, he’s kept upright so Natasha can keep her broken ankle off the floor while holding onto him with one arm, since there are crutches at the tower but not the jet. Her other arm is tightly wrapped around Clint who is almost asleep on Phils shoulder, who holds onto the railing on the wall to take the weight - he’s been in the field along with the team this time, instead of just the comms from a surveillance spot.
 One by one, or in small groups, they get to their separate living spaces and straight to the shower. Natasha joins Clint and Phil for the night, because as much as she hates needing help, the injury on her ankle isn’t the only one she carried away today, and neither of them wants her slipping on wet tiles and crack open her skull just because she’s stubbornly independent. It’s days like this where Phil is very much reminded of just how similar Clint and Natasha are.
 Both of them would push on and push too far even when they physically should not or can not. You’d think he’s used to that after over a decade, and yet… Phil showers quickly, and prepares a quick and light meal with water and painkillers while Clint helps Natasha in the bathroom before he gets in the shower as well and they put fresh bandages on one another. They emerge when he’s just done, and the three of them share a quiet but comfortable meal amongst themselves. Everyone is exhausted, and they’ll have a huge breakfast with the whole team the next day, whenever they’re all awake again.
 That night, Natasha sleeps curled up next to Clint, leaving him in the middle in between her and Phil, and holds onto the blanket with an iron grip. As much as she loves these two, both of them are notorious for stealing blankets in their sleep, and she refuses to get in the middle of that. And it doesn’t matter how close they start out the night - as cuddly as they are while falling asleep, often times they’ll just roll over and make themselves into a cozy burrito while fast asleep.
 Whoever is lucky gets the most blankets that way. They always sleep with a billion covers for this very reason, but at least one of them always manages to hog more than a fair share.
 How exactly they lasted years and years of relationship and marriage without murdering each other out of sheer frustration in the middle of the night due to this, Natasha will never understand.
 The blanket slowly slips away from her as Clint turns away in his sleep with it and she thrusts an elbow into his ribs - not as hard as she usually would because she’s seen the bruises, but still.
 “Quit it, you dickhead.” she grumbles half heartedly, and Phil chuckles sleepily while the complaint falls to - literally - deaf ears with Clint. He’s already snoring.
 Sighing, Natasha cuddles up closer behind him in an attempt to get more warmth - this works, too.
 *+~
 “Wait, what? You must be joking.” Clint looks at Phil like he’s grown another head.
 They’re in their apartment and folding laundry, a task that’s long overdue due to their busy schedule, and now that things have finally gotten a little bit calmer they finally get around to it. Both of them are in sweatpants and ancient tshirts in their living room, seated on the couch (Phil) and the table (Clint) while they’re working and keeping up a conversation.
 Phil and Clint have been chatting away about a lot of things, until the topic of Tony comes up again. After their very emotional talk in the kitchen a few weeks back, they’ve talked about this a few more times, and it’s good - helpful for both of them. But today is the first time that Phil voiced this possible option - opening the relationship for a third person, provided that everyone involved would be happy and comfortable with that.
 Clint holds the pair of boxer briefs mid air where he froze and looks over at Phil, who finishes folding a t-shirt and holds his husbands gaze.
 “I’m not joking at all. If this is something you’d be happy with, and something that Tony would be happy with, it would be a good solution for this admittedly quite unique situation.”
 “Well yeah. Apart from the fact that this option kinda feels like a enormous dick move on my part? Like, neither of you is at fault for this mess? It’s not your fault for being, uh, gone after a long and committed relationship slash marriage and it’s not Tony’s fault for me falling in love and I don’t even know, maybe-possibly him falling maybe possibly as well? I’d have to talk to him about that… Which is awkward and I’m kinda scared of losing a friend due to this?”
 “It’s not your fault, either.” Phil says quietly, and reaches out to gently squeeze his hand as Clint stops rambling. He squeezes back, with a slight smile but doesn’t say anything to it. So Phil continues,
 “You don’t need to make up your mind right now, obviously. Just think about it? If it’s something you’d want. And if I’m being honest, I have a feeling that Tony won’t let go of you just like that, even if he doesn’t want this option.”
 Clint nods slightly, chewing on his lower lip for a few minutes and keeps folding more laundry before he speaks up again.
 “To be honest, I’ve thought about this before but I never thought it would be possible. It sounds kinda too good to be true, but… I think I would be very, very happy if this were to work out. But just one thing, Phil.” He pauses for a moment, carefully considering his words as he’s talking. He’s already answering this slowly, but now he slows down and pauses even more. This is important to him, and he reaches out with one hand again, and Phil happily takes it.
 “Would you be happy and comfortable with this as well? You’re not just suggesting this because you want me to be happy even when it’s something that would bother you in the long run? Because if that’s the case this option is off the table.”
 He’s looking straight at him again, and Phil smiles back. Even after all these years, he’ll never get tired of getting lost in his husbands deep blue eyes. He gets up from the couch and gently cups Clint’s face in his hands and kissing him, slow and deep and he hums happily, pulling Phil closer to him.
 When they break apart, Clint looks a lot more relaxed, but he’s very obviously still waiting for an answer to his question.
 “If I was unhappy with this option, I wouldn’t have suggested it. Yes, one of my biggest concerns is your happiness and I know how much Tony means to you. But he’s growing on me, too, and very much so. He’s been flirting with      both of us.    ” he adds pointedly, and that makes Clint burst out into a short bark laughter.
 “He did. And he was mortified when he realized it.”
 Phil’s eyes are sparkling with amusement, but he’s completely serious when he keeps talking.
 “So, yes, I would be happy with this if it was to happen. Take your time to think about it, and if it is something you want, you can talk to Tony. If he wants this as well, the three of us will get together for a conversation and figure out the rest. How about that?”
 Clint nods in agreement and he looks much happier and brighter than he ever did before when they talked about this specific topic.
 “Sounds good to me. I’m kinda having trouble to believe that this may be possible, but… Yeah. This is good. I’ll let you know if or when I’m managing to talk to Tony about this and how it goes.”
 “Alright then. Hey, what do you wanna cook for dinner?”
 The sudden change of topic isn’t nearly as unnerving as it should be - this is just how their conversations go sometimes and they’ve been doing it for so many years, it’s just another part of life.
 “Roasted potatoes and something? I’m in a potato mood.”
 *+~
 Tony alternates between groaning and repeatedly thumping his head on the desk in his lab. The  robot on the table beeps at him, sounding concerned.
 It’s a pretty small one, especially for Tony, and it’s kind of adorable. All round shapes with little legs that have it waddle about the place like a tiny metal toddler, communicating in low beeping noises and a few spoken words - he’s equipped with an AI and he’ll learn more over time. he also has a fondness for everything green.
 It’s supposed to be a joke gift for Bruce, because one day he saw *an article about robots that are meant to carry houseplants and change spots according to the sunlight and let the owner know if it is dehydrated. Tony had laughed, and thought he could make one, but better.
 Now, he’s in desperate need of a distraction so he attempts to stay busy with updating and perfecting the little guy. He’s been at it for a few hours, but his brain just won’t shut up. So naturally, after thumping his head on the desk proves to be entirely unhelpful, he does the only logical thing he can think of at two in the morning - he calls Rhodey.
 And because Rhodey is awesome he picks up after two rings.
 “Hey Tones. You okay?” He sounds awake - Tony is relieved that at least he didn’t wake him up.
 “Hi Honeybear. I fucked up big time and I’ve never been so mortified in my entire life and that’s saying something, coming from me.”
 “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific than that.”
 “See, that’s why I love you. Always honest and incredibly charming.”
 “You’re deflecting. What happened?” Rhodey sounds concerned, which he does often when he’s talking to Tony over the phone in the middle of the night. Probably rightfully so. They’ve been friends for decades - scratch that, they’ve been       family     for decades - and Tony has always been more or less of a hot mess. Rhodey knows this too well - but he’s trying to help here, even when he needs to be a bit blunt with his best friend.
 Tony sighs unhappily, and the little robot toddles close to him over the table, stretching out one of his little feet and affectionately pokes his arm. He absentmindedly pats it, then he tries to make sense of the latest dumpster fire in his brain for Rhodey.
 “So you know, the stupid jokes and flirting between me and Clint? I realized that I’m no longer joking and haven’t for a hot minute there.”
 “Yes. But that’s not new information, isn’t it? Something else changed, right?”
 Tony bumps his head onto the table top again, clearly audible over the phone. The little robot scoots closer again and pets his hair with one of his stubby little legs.
 “Saaaaad.” it beeps in his little robot voice, and pets Tony once more. He really built an affectionate little fellow there.
 “I didn’t think. I’ve been flirting with      Phil    , too. What the fuck am I doing, Rhodey? They’re married. To each other. Why the fuck am I falling in love with two of my best friends who are married to each other? Why? Who the hell does that?” He complains and rambles for some time, face smushed into the desk while he’s talking and Rhodey lets him. When Tony falls quiet again, he answers carefully.
 “These things happen sometimes. It doesn’t make you a bad person, Tony.”
 He hums uncertainly but doesn’t say anything else. Rhodey continues.
 “This whole situation? It’s a mess but it’s not anyone's fault. People fall in love. Even after their partner died. It’s just very unusual for that partner to come back to life. You guys might want to talk, just so you know and can work out where everyone is at. From what I know? Both Clint and Phil care a lot about you. I’m sure they wouldn’t want to hurt you, and you clearly don’t want to hurt them. Even if it’s unintentional.”
 Tony is listening, and even though he knows that Rhodey is right, he hates this situation. Stupid feelings. He sighs, then pulls himself up from the desk, nudging the robot a few inches away so he doesn't accidentally knock it over while getting up. It waddles near the screwdriver by the side and lightly taps it, causing it to roll a little bit. Excited beeping noises proclaim it’s happiness over this.
 “That’s gonna be a fun talk to have. I don’t even know how to bring that up.”
 “You’ll find a way, Tones. You always do.”
 “Okay. Thanks, Rhodey, I appreciate it.”
 “Call me if you need anything.”
 “Will do. You’re the best, you know that right?”
 Rhodey chuckles at that.
 “You’re not too bad yourself. Go get some sleep.”
 And they hang up on that.
 Tony does go to bed,  but he can’t sleep. He keeps turning and trying to find a comfortable position, but he’s anxious and keyed up. His thoughts run wild, and even though he knows that Rhodey is right, he doesn’t try and talk to either Clint or Phil about this for days. In fact, if he’s honest, he’s actually avoiding them, even when it’s the opposite of what he really wants to do. Inwardly cursing at himself, he keeps that up under the pretense of being busy but he knows it won’t work forever.
 Then, it’s once again in the middle of the night and he is in the common area because JARVIS locked him out of his lab. Tony almost set himself on fire for the third time that night and the AI is worried about him and his lack of sleep. So he kicked him out of his own lab and locked everything, informing him that he’ll regain access after 8 hours of sleep and a solid meal.
 Tony is not      wallowing    … Except that’s totally what he does.
 The footsteps behind him are light and they appear suddenly. It’s obvious that whoever is walking is used to being silent but deliberately making noise as not to startle him. Which narrows down the pool of people - and when Tony turns, he does so just in time for Clint to flop down next to him on the couch, intentionally casual but it’s obvious that he’s nervous about something. He hands Tony a mug of coffee and keeps one to himself.
 “Hey.”
 “Hey.” A beat of silence, and it’s awkward - neither of them is used to this, since they’ve always been able to talk or at least fill the silence when they needed to. Even silence has never been this awkward before.
 “So, uh. I don’t know if I said or did something, but I know you’ve been avoiding me for some reason. You know you can talk to me right?”
 Tony looks over at him, a pang of guilt already painfully in his chest.
 “Yeah, I know… Sorry about that by the way - it’s not your fault.”
 “You sure?”
 “Yes, it’s… I think I fucked up and I don’t know how to talk about it.” Tony cringes. “Hi, resident hot mess over here.”
 Clint just looks at him, curiously, and a little like he understands.
 “Hi, other resident hot mess here. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can figure it out.” He drinks his coffee and leans back into the couch. Is this the right situation to clear the air? A gut feeling tells him it just might be, but the part of his brain that’s constantly in a mode of      “Panic! Terror! Abort mission, we’re all gonna die!”    screams at him to keep his mouth shut. He’s familiar with this part of himself, and depending on the day, he even has something like a grip on it. But right now, a lot is at risk and he’s afraid of losing one of his best friends. Then again, if he       doesn’t talk    , he might lose him as well.
 Tony remains silent, keeping busy by inhaling his coffee. It gives him an excuse to think and not having to talk without being a total asshole. He’s exhausted and he wants things to be okay between them, but it looks like they need to have this talk.
 Clint looks tired, too. Briefly, Tony remembers that Phil and Natasha both left for different SHIELD missions and he’s not sure if anyone else is around - which probably means he slept like shit or not at all in the last few days. He’s also chewing on the insides of his cheeks - a tell tale sign of his anxiety, and it’s something he usually doesn’t allow himself unless he’s in private or with people he trusts.
 “Is it okay when I tell you something? I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not, and I’m kinda worried to lose you as a friend if I do.”
 Tony looks over at him, and it’s the first time he’s looked directly at him since they started talking. His expression is a mixture of confused, nervous and, if he doesn’t imagine it, slightly hopeful.
 “Of course you can.” He almost swallows the entire coffee that’s left in his mug out of nerves.
 “It doesn’t need to change anything if you don’t want it to. But you kinda should know, and I’ve been talking to Phil about this and he said I should talk to you, too. I, uhm, there really is no great way to say this but-” he takes a deep breath, holding onto his mug with a white knuckled grip.
 “I’m in love with you, Tony. I’ve been for a while.”
 Tony just stares, dumbfounded, and he needs to pick up his jaw from the floor before he can even respond. Even as he manages to find his voice again, all he’s able to vocalize are incoherent words until he’s got a grip on himself again.
 Clint looks like he’s about to accidentally break off the handle of his mug because his grip around it tightens even more.
 “I love you, too.” he blurts out, followed by, “I’ve been in love with you for longer than I’m comfortable admitting, but it didn’t feel right to say anything. You’re married and happy and I don’t want to get in between that. I also may have realized that I’m falling for Phil as well. Which is where the part of me fucking up and having no idea what to do or what to say comes to play.”
 Now Clint stares at him. Both of them stare at each other like they never met before.
 “Is that why…?” Clint starts, breaking himself off, but he doesn’t need to continue. Tony just nods. They share a few minutes of silence, before Tony speaks up again.
 “You said Phil knows and it doesn’t need to change anything if I don’t want it to. What do you mean? Are you not pissed? Isn’t      Phil     pissed? I mean-” he gestures helplessly with both hands, because this is the strangest conversation he’s ever been a part of, which is saying a lot, given that he’s, well, him.
 “We talked about this. A lot, actually. He understands, and he doesn’t blame any of us.”
 “      How    ? I mean, how can someone be so understanding in this situation? Can we grow more Phils in a lab or something? Fuck knows, the world needs more of him.”
 That actually makes him smile brightly, because yeah, Phil is pretty amazing, but there is only one. And that’s gotta stay that way, although he agrees that the world could probably do well with more men like him.
 What Clint settles on for an answer is actually, “Well, there is a good reason I married him in the first place.” Then, he continues to explain what they have talked about lately. The possibility of a three-way relationship, if it is something everyone involved would be happy and comfortable with.
 Tony’s jaw hits the floor once again and after long, stunned silence he says,
 “Okay, wow. What do we do now?”
 Clint actually laughs, and he sounds just a little bit hysterical. “I honestly didn’t think we’d get that far in this conversation.”
 “Well, fuck me, this is not what I expected at all, but, uhm.”
 “So, uh, what do you think?” he tries carefully.
 “You’re serious about this?”
  This one is easy to answer. Now, that the hardest part is over, Clint has no trouble finding words again.
 “Yes, absolutely. Phil and I have talked about it, and while I have thought, or more like dreamed about this option, I didn’t think it was really possible.” He drinks another sip of coffee - it’s gone cold by now, but he doesn’t mind.  “He suggested this, actually. And uhm, you don’t have to answer now obviously, but if this is something you want, then we will have dinner together and talk about this and figure out what all of us want.”
 A few moments tick by, but the silence now is comfortable and familiar once again - they no longer interact like they’ve never actually      talked     before, now that the elephant in the room has been addressed and, at least mainly, resolved. Both of them can breathe a lot easier now and they’re back into each others space, shoulders touching and leaning against one another.
 It’s fuck ‘o'clock in the morning, and now that both of them have said their piece, have talked about this, the adrenaline rush actually crashes pretty fast again, and the sleepless days catch up with both of them. Even with black coffee in their system, they could fall asleep right here. But they manage to get up, and in wordless agreement they shuffle off to the elevator that brings them up to the penthouse. Tony looks over, questioningly, and Clint just nods, follows him inside and they crawl under the blankets, wrapping around each other in the way that’s so familiar and comforting.
 They’ve missed this, even in the short amount of time they have not been around each other.
 Clint is about to take out his hearing aids for the night, but Tony's hand on his arm stops him and he looks over to see him smile at him.
 “My answer is yes by the way. I’d love to have dinner with both of you.”
 It’s the last thing he hears before they both fall asleep, but Clint hugs him a little tighter and hopes that this non-verbal answer will do for now - he’s not sure he would be able to produce words right now if he treid.
 The next morning, he wakes up wrapped in one and a half blankets and Tony clinging onto his back to stay warm and get a small corner of the covers that Clint has been hogging in his sleep. He cringes a silent “Oops. Sorry ‘bout that.” into the half dark room, pulls the blanket free and feels the vibrations and hot breath of laughter on his neck.
 Over breakfast two hours later, he texts Phil:
     “good morning honey, how is paris? speaking of the city of love, we have a dinner date with tony when you’re back. :) be safe, I love you ♥”  
 The response comes just minutes later.
     “Good morning Dear, it is as beautiful as always, if a little explosive. Looking forward to coming home, which might be this week if we’re lucky. I love you ♥ and am very happy to hear that we have this date.”  
 *+~
 Just as promised, Phil arrives back home by the end of the week. He’s texted Clint on the way back but he got delayed at HQ with several requests of “Can you please just take a quick look at this situation, Sir?” which turned into almost three hours and now he’s      done    and it’s late at night. Phil is happy to be back home and when he enters the apartment he shares with Clint on one of the top floors, it’s dark when he enters. There is, however, the flickering light of the muted TV that’s creeping through the door.
 Clint is asleep when he walks into the room, wrapped in a knitted blanket and one arm hanging off of the couch. A documentary if running in the big flat screen, closed captions on, and it shows a breathtaking underwater world that looks to be truly fascinating. There are two glasses on the table though, indicating that he’s had company before and probably fell asleep while waiting for Phil. It makes him smile, but there is also he guilt for taking so much longer than he had planned.
 He steps closer to press a quick kiss into Clint’s blond mess of hair, then he heads to the shower and changes into pajamas. By the time he’s done and enters their bedroom, Clint has apparently woken up and re-located, because now he’s dozing in bed and turns happily when the bed dips down with the weight of another person. Phil lets himself be pulled down and greeted properly, and they spend a while trading lazy kisses and making out, not talking much, just the occasional “Hi” and “welcome home” and “How are you?” before they pull apart again and cuddle up under the blankets.
 “Oh hey, how was the talk?” Phil asks then, because he’s interested, and Clint smiles lopsidedly, wrapping both arms around Phil.
 “Much better than expected. I’ll tell you tomorrow okay? Too tired now.”
 They sleep in that day, and when they arrive in the kitchen there is already coffee ready and food on the table because life is great and their team is even better.
 It’s a good day.
 *+~
 The three of them manage to get together for a home cooked dinner soon. They’re nervous and excited, despite knowing each other as well as they do, but this is still different - but as it turns out, different is good.
 The evening starts out just like any other where they hang out, and having Clint’s cooking for dinner is always a treat. Conversations are easy, and by the time they have coffee and dessert - cheesecake in a glass from Phil - the topic leads slowly to the three of them and they just talk for hours.
 Options, wishes, boundaries - it’s good, and by the end of the night, all three of them are happy and excited, but there is also a giant weight lifted off of them. They move to the couch after dinner, and they continue to chat, piled up and cuddled up on top of each other.
 Tony spends the night with both of them at once for the first time, too.
 He learns that there is a space for him with Clint and Phil, and that he fits right in - it is that night that they share first kisses and more.
 Tony also learns that he’ll have to deal with      two     blanket thieves in the foreseeable future but he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed - he’s way too happy and relaxed for that. Maybe that’s just what he gets for being a snorer, who knows.
 “Oh god, there’s two of them.” he grumbles half heartedly, fruitlessly trying to hold onto the blanket as it slips away from his grip. He scoots closer to Phil then, because he’s not entirely rolled up in his blanket yet. Phil chuckles sleepily, then he quips,
 “Hi, I’m Phil, this is my husband Clint and this is our boyfriend Tony. All of us have terrible sleep habits. Have a nice day.”
 Then he wraps an arm around him, and Tony stifles his laughter as to not be too loud. This side of Phil is new to him, and god, he loves that he can be here to experience this.
 Phil is equal parts happy and stunned - he’d never thought this would be his life one day. It’s different, but it’s good and he’s so very happy to be alive. He’s happy to share his new chance at life with Clint, who has been by his side for so many years, and with Tony who is a new but wonderful addition to their life together.
 Clint, unaware of the banter right next to him, seeks out their body heat in his sleep, laying right on top of Tony. He ends up with his nose stuck in silky dark hair that smells faintly of something musky and expensive. One arm snakes over him until Clint can reach Phil, happy as soon as he can lightly touch him, as well.
 He’s incredibly happy, with the turn of events and in general - he never thought this would be possible in the first place and yet here they are. It scared him, but now it just feels right. Perfectly comfortable. He doesn’t want to lose this, ever.
 Tony feels happy, warm, comfortable and most of all, loved. Having a weight on top of him always helps him sleep - he figures, that’s why people buy weighted blankets but he’s always found it working much, much better with other humans - especially humans that he’s close to.
 *+~
 In the next days, weeks and months, they learn a lot about each other. Little quirks and habits, mundane everyday things. But also what the other needs in certain situations and how they can help.
 They learn that while all relationships require open and honest communication, a relationship involving more than two people does so even more - it’s a learning process, but they manage it.
 Tony realizes just how much it helps to talk to partners who don't just assume - they       ask     and together, the three of them always figure it out.
 “You’ll get there.” Clint tells him one day, “I used to be even worse at talking than I am now. But as long as you’ll stay open and honest with us, everything will be okay.” It really is reassuring. None of them is perfect, no matter what biased voices might say.
 They have flaws and habits that drive each other up the wall sometimes, but they handle it all with honesty, patience and love and so they work on issues together. Bad mental health days or bad days in general - just another day, another mountain to climb together. And they get better because of it.
 *+~
 …Possibly to be continued in the future?
 *+~
     Prompt No. 44 - “Hi, I’m Phil, this is my husband Clint. And this is Clint’s boyfriend Tony.”  
 *+~
 *Disclaimer: The plant care robot is a real thing that I’ve found online and it’s frickin’ adorable. I wanted to involve it somewhere in my writing and it just fit here. It doesn’t match up with my stories timeline but eh, unimportant details and all that ;)
 Credit where credit is due:
 The robot in the article was invented by Tianqi Sun, CEO of robotics firm Vincross.
 https://www.businessinsider.com/the-hexa-robot-can-take-care-of-your-plants-2018-7?r=DE&IR=T
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Text
Into The Abyss, part 4
Felix belongs to @smoresthehalloweenqueen
Not spoiling anything but warning for Lost Ones being mildly creepy
More under the cut
All is quiet among the Lost Ones.
They are gathered around the light. It is bright, and fills them all with hope, and it belongs to a bright-haired human. They wonder how it got here, but at the same time, they do not really care. This is the closest thing to home they will have for a long while.
They don't even care that it was the Liar that brought the Light here. They are simply happy that the Light exists, that the Light is alive. And they will not let the Angel take the Light from them.
Or anyone else, for that matter.
Henry is not having the best day of his life. Or even a mediocre day. No, he is having a very bad day, and it's not at all improved by having a giant, inky demon chasing after him.
No, actually, it's making his day that much worse.
“Bendy” is also chasing him up the stairs. As stubborn of an old man as he is, he does have his limits, which is why when a Little Miracle station does come into view, he hops in without a second thought and then jams the door shut with the Tommy Gun, just in case.
“Bendy” skids to a halt, looking around bewilderedly. He grumbles a bit, inspects the Miracle station, and then leaves, off to go bug “Alice”, most likely.
Henry relaxes, deciding that staying in here might be good for now. He counts a few bugs before a thought crosses his mind.
Wonder what happened to Felix? I haven't seen him since we split up. I should probably find him.
He climbs out of the Little Miracle station, complete with a new objective and a half-empty gun. “Well, off to go find Felix, then. Let's hope we don't run into any baddies.”
Felix groans quietly. Feels like I got run over by a truck. And then shot. Where am I?
He opens his eyes and freezes. There are ink creatures hovering over him, whispering and staring at him. A few of them are crying, and he feels a flash of guilt. Did I cause this?
One of the creatures grabs him and lifts his arms up. He's surprised and fairly spooked, holding his breath. Staying completely still, he feels himself dragged along the floor, and eventually he is abruptly dropped in front of a smaller ink creature that is crying. He blinks, and turns just enough to see the taller one walking away, rejoining the group.
He's struck with a realization. They're waiting to see what I do, aren't they? He turns back to the smaller one, and it doesn't look at him. ...here goes nothing, then. Let's hope they don't want to kill me.
He hugs it.
Said ink creature seems surprised. If it could blink, it would. Felix doesn't let go, though, and it eventually returns the hug. It's still making very sad sounds, but seems a bit happier. And, to be honest, Felix is a bit happier himself.
That is, until the rest of the creatures surround them. He jerks up in surprise and then promptly hugpiled under a bunch of ink creatures. A laugh bubbles up in his throat, but he holds his breath – again – in order to avoid spooking them. Guess I made the right decision, then.
It feels nice to not be almost killed.
He is violently reminded of the fact that he's probably dying when one of the ink creatures presses down on his right arm. He yelps in pain, and immediately all of the creatures scatter, except for the first one he hugged. Cradling his arm, he picks himself up carefully, and turns to the rest, who seems worried. (He's not sure how he knows this; he just...does.) Speaking quietly, he says, “It's not your fault. It's been like this since Alice. Sorry if I scared you.”
He jumps slightly when the small one behind him wraps its arms around him. Turning around, he quietly sits back down, and smiles at the creature warmly. “Th...thanks.”
He carefully leans against the wall and allows the creatures to sit around him. “Do...do you want to hear a story?”
All of them nod, and he ponders it for a second before deciding. “Okay, okay. Here we go. Once upon a time...”
As Henry walks towards the elevator, he notices a suspicious puddle of ink. He follows it to a locked door, right beside of the elevator. Raising his eyebrows, he bends down and starts to fiddle with the lock. Boris gives him a look, and Henry says, “It's legal to know lock-picking, as long as you don't pick any locks. Now please be quiet while I pick this lock.”
Boris gives him another look, and he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But what are the police gonna do, bust in? They literally can't, actually. Door collapsed. I think the entire upper floor collapsed, actually. So there's that.”
The door unlocks with a click. Henry turns to Boris and waves. “See you soon.”
Boris waves back, and sighs after Henry leaves, feeling another wave of that wisdom. He shuts the elevator doors, and doesn't move again, simply sitting in the corner of the elevator, chewing on his bone.
Henry continues following the trail of ink, noting the change of surroundings. While the rest of the studio is positively covered in ink, cobwebs, and other miscellaneous things, this area is totally clean, much in the OCD-esc style of Bertrum Piedmont.
The farther in he goes, however, the messier it gets. Soon, the walls start sporting messages again, some of them with dead bodies underneath them. Most of them say things such as “THE LIAR IS HERE” and “YOU HAVE TO TURN BACK”. They're not at all reassuring, but Henry looks at them anyway, curious to see whether there are other messages that reveal new info.
By the time he gets to the staircase, he's collected a small box of ammo, a plant, and a can of bacon soup that he is drinking. The staircase's message almost makes him spit out his bacon soup.
Come up and see me :)
Oh yes, that doesn't sound threatening at all, Henry thinks sarcastically. Out loud, he says, “I don't think I'll take you up on that offer.”
And then he does it anyway, climbing the staircase. The top is furnished with a single table, a lever, and a cassette tape. He winds the cassette tape back up and presses play, taking sip of his bacon soup as he does.
Voice of BERTRUM PIEDMONT
"For forty years, I've built attractions that stagger the imagination! Colossal wonders such as the world has never seen!
I have earned my legacy with sweat.
But right in front of everyone... high level investors, Wall Street tycoons, the ever-tactless Joey Drew introduces me, the great Bertrum Piedmont, as Bertie! Like I was his child.
You may be paying me, Mister Drew! But you don't own me!
I'll build you a park bigger than anything YOU could ever possibly conceive!
But before you go taking any bows, Mister Drew, know that this grand achievement will belong to me... and to me alone."
The tape ends. Henry frowns. “I remember that. Old man was pissy for a few days afterwards, wasn't he...” He jolts up. “Wait.”
He couldn't be the one the messages were warning about...could he?
Henry comes tearing out of the hallway. He practically jumps into the elevator, and punches the button for Level K. Turning to Boris, he takes a deep breath, and then says, “I need to find Felix. Now.”
Boris nods mutely.
“I'm so stupid. I didn't even think about him the entire time I was running around this place. He could be dead, or missing.” He pauses. “Or worse, depending on whether or not our lovely 'angel' got to him. Or, god forbid, Joey.”
Boris nods again, and then gestures to Henry's Tommy Gun, and then to his own bone.
“Yeah, hurt. Or dead. Or whatever else has been going on here, I don't know.” Henry sighs, seeming to have lost a good deal of his adrenaline rush in the few minutes he's talked to Boris. “I just...I shouldn't have left him alone. And now I'm going to find him.”
Boris takes his bone out of his mouth. He rubs the end onto Henry's clothes, much to the man's surprise, and then waits for the elevator to reach Level K. Once it does, he uses the bone to write on the wall.
I saw what happened to him.
See, I told you they didn’t want to murder him! Just...hug him, I guess. Also he’s still dying a horrible death.
The Lost Ones can’t actually see the creatures around them - they see the creature’s souls, instead. Felix’s soul just so happens to be a very bright soul. 
I think y’all know who the Liar is, and it ain’t Joey. His title is much more, ah...telling.
Also, a slightly Henry-centric chapter.
The break isn’t going to last long for Felix, though, so don’t get your hopes up.
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