There was a warmth that settled in Clint's chest. Not because he had been able to talk about how much having someone out in the world meant to him. But because Phil's fingers were running through his hair right now. He hadn't felt this safe in so long. He almost hated what he wanted to ask Coulson to do. It wasn't right. Not for Phil. It was right for him. He knew he wasn't safe to be around even if he wanted to be lulled into that sense of belief that when he was under a roof of someone who made him feel the way no one else had made him feel. If only it was just by postcard just saying 'hello' usually.

That's why most of the circus folk laughed at it. Because 'hello' didn't mean anything. It just meant that someone out there was humoring him because he probably had twelve cats and no social life. Clint defended Phil. Offered up that he was in the army. That he was going to college. That he was infinitely better than anyone there. Better than he was.

Since Phil was rubbing his back, he may have felt the gun Clint had tucked in the back of his pants. The gun he was all ready to offer him. A smile tugged a bit on his lips, arms still wrapped around the other man as he listened to his offer. "Prolly not that long...You probably won't even know 'm even here."