Chapter Text
Clint was drinking coffee on the penthouse couch when Tony and Bruce came in. "You slept later than usual, Legolas; did you and Phil have a rough night?" Tony asked, smirking.
Clint tilted his head like he was seriously considering the question. "I wouldn't call it rough, no," he answered, taking a deliberate sip of his coffee.
"What would you call it, then?" Bruce asked, grinning at him.
"Good," Clint said with satisfaction. "Very good. I might even go with excellent, if pressed."
"So what was the reason you had to miss dinner with the team, anyway?" Tony asked, hands wrapped around his own freshly filled mug. "It's not either of your birthdays, and it's not your anniversary. I know you were shamefully happy about the Indians winning the Series, but that was over a week ago. What gives?"
"Just because it's not our wedding anniversary doesn't mean it wasn't an anniversary," Clint said blandly, with a vague hope that for once in his life Tony would take what was offered and not press for more.
Tony stood there with his hand on his chin for a second, but before he could say anything, Steve and Natasha stepped off the elevator.
"Good morning," Steve said. Nat just smiled and went over to Bruce. Steve was smiling too, of course--he'd done nothing but smile since he and Bucky had worked things out. It was a good look on both of them.
"Morning," Bruce murmured to Nat, kissing her temple.
"Hey, where's the Six Million Dollar Man?" Tony asked. "I haven't seen you without him in weeks."
"He's on his way to SHIELD Medical," Steve answered genially. "They want to take a look at how his arm's coming along."
"How much longer do they think it'll be before he's got a hand and fingers?" Clint asked. Bucky's arm had been growing slowly but steadily; the stump now extended well past the elbow.
"They think maybe by Thanksgiving, Christmas at the latest," Steve said, grinning.
"That's great news," Clint said.
"Speaking of Thanksgiving, can we count on Phil to make the stuffing again?" Tony asked.
Clint frowned. "We're not gonna be here for Thanksgiving, Tony," he said. "We told you that. Last year was an exception. This year we're going home again, like we always do."
"Home?" Tony asked, sounding hurt. "I thought this was your home, Barton."
"Home meaning Phil's Mom's place," Clint said, rolling his eyes. Phil himself had appeared, holding a travel mug in one hand and knotting his tie with the other. "The only other times we've missed Thanksgiving and Christmas were when we were on ops. In fact, I think that's what Phil told them we were doing last year."
"It was an op," Phil said with a smile, sitting down next to Clint. "Operation Avengers Team Holiday 2012. But this year we'll be back with my family, like we are most years. Did I tell you Stephanie's bringing her boyfriend?" he asked Clint.
"She texted me," Clint said. "How's Jen handling it?"
"Jen's fine; it's Scott who's freaking out," Phil said. "'She's only twenty-two, what's she doing with a live-in boyfriend,' that kind of thing."
Clint snorted. "Wasn't Jen twenty-two when he proposed?"
"Twenty-three," Phil corrected. "Apparently that makes all the difference."
"Okay, okay, I get it, you're close with your family--both of you," Tony said. "So invite them all here. We've got plenty of room."
"Tony," Steve said, frowning.
"What?" Tony said.
"If Clint and Phil want to go to Connecticut for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and any other occasion, that's their choice," Steve said earnestly. "Personally, I think it's wonderful that they have family to spend the holidays with."
Clint winced; he was way too familiar with what was behind that statement. So was Phil, thanks to his years with Clint.
"We appreciate the offer," Phil told Tony, his hand resting on Clint's thigh. "I'll pass it on, but I'm not making any promises."
Tony just nodded, and Clint shot him a grateful smile.
"And now I've got to go," Phil said. "Sorry I don't have time for pancakes," he added to Clint.
"It's okay," Clint said.
"Walk me to the elevator?" Phil asked quietly.
"Sure," Clint answered.
When they got there, Phil said, "Do you think I need to talk to Steve?"
Clint shook his head. "I think he's fine. He meant it, you know? He really is happy that at least one of us still has a family."
"Two of us," Phil corrected.
"Right, two of us," Clint agreed, because Phil's family was his family, loved him and accepted him more than his own blood ever had. It had taken him years to believe it, but he did now, at least most of the time.
"I really am sorry I have to go," Phil said.
Clint smiled and touched Phil's face. "The pancakes are optional. Last night was what was important."
"Here's to eight years, and many more to come," Phil said, and kissed him, slow and tender and reverent. When he finished, he leaned his forehead against Clint's and said, "I love you."
"Love you too," Clint said softly. "Free for lunch?"
"If we can eat in my office, sure," Phil said.
"See you then," Clint said, and stepped back so Phil could get in the elevator.
He walked back over to the couch, ignoring the way Tony was watching him.
"You making us pancakes, Katniss?" Tony asked. Because he was Tony; really, Clint should have expected it.
Clint shook his head. "Nope."
"So what anniversary were the two of you celebrating, huh?" Tony went on, smirking. "Was it your first kiss? Your first date? The day you finally manned up and told each other how you felt? Or, wait--it was your first time, wasn't it? You and Phil, sexing it up for the first time, that has to be it."
Clint sighed. "All of the above, if you must know," he said.
"This is a story I've got to hear," Tony said, pointing at him. "Out with it, Barton."
"Not in a million years, Stark," Clint said, because no. But when Steve looked at him, a question in his eyes, Clint gave him a shrug and let his mouth turn up a tiny bit.
When he went down to Steve and Bucky's for a beer that night, Steve said, "You don't have to tell us."
"Or if you want to just tell Steve, I can go hang out with Nat for a while," Bucky offered. The two of them were sitting next to each other, Steve's arm around Bucky's shoulder, Bucky's around Steve's waist. Clint took a moment to be grateful that his friend had finally gotten what he'd been waiting for, that he and Bucky were so happy. That they had what he and Phil had.
"Nah, it's okay," Clint said easily. "I don't mind you two knowing, and neither does Phil. But it's none of Tony's business. I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourselves."
"Sure," Bucky said, smirking. "Why, is it embarrassing?"
Clint laughed. "You could say that. If Tony finds out, we'll never hear the end of it."
Steve grinned. "I admit I'm curious. I've got this picture in my head of you telling him while you were on comms."
Clint laughed again and shook his head. "It wasn't me, man," he said.
"Really?" Steve asked, surprised. "I would've thought Phil would keep it buttoned up, think it wasn't appropriate."
"He did," Clint said. "For years. I never even suspected, thought it would never happen." He smiled, remembering, and told them the story.