beenunmade | for theshield

for theshield_agent

Running had become second nature.

Clint hadn't been a wolf for long, he had counted the weeks. Days. Hours. All since his life had been turned upside down and he didn't quite know what to make of anything anymore. Several months ago he had fell into a state of relaxation when he was out with a group of his own friends before he had been attacked. The attack had killed two of the men he had been traveling with at the time, it was not so pleasant waking up in pools of their own blood. Their mangled bodies surrounding him and all Clint could think was 'why aren't I dead too'. It was a miracle, his friends and brother had said. A fucking miracle he had walked away from that, but it didn't feel so much like a miracle the following month. Or the month after. His brother had been the first victim of a 'wild animal attack' and it hadn't been something Clint was entirely proud of. How full he had felt the day afterward, how disgusted he felt with himself. No amount of vomiting or therapy could take that away from him.

So he ran. It seemed the logical thing to do. He left his friends behind. The life he had come to know, even if he had always been running. The circus was always something that didn't logically mean that someone had settled down in their life and was happy with everything. It just meant they had no where to go and that was the only option.

The man had just hitchhiked from Arizona to New Jersey over the course of three months. Every time the full moon would come around and he would feel it's pull. He would just simply...disappear out of sight for a couple days. Then back on the road he went. A little sore, but okay. Alive. His mind had literally abandoned the rules of a normal person's life. He didn't believe it was going to ever be like that again. He chewed on his bottom lip as he contacted the friend of his he had ditched when he was on the road with the circus. The man had been someone who...arrested him and his older brother when they had gotten into a mess. Barney had been at fault but apparently being eighteen in a bar automatically meant that he was in trouble as well. There had been no excuse for the beer he had in his either but...still. It ended up with Clint alone in a holding cell because Barney had tried to choke him with his belt and the teen laughing along side the man who had remained straight-faced until he allowed the tiniest hint of a smile to leak through.

That guy had bailed Clint out of a couple situations he didn't know about. The last he had heard from him (through postcards) was that he was off to the Army. He hoped he would be where Clint had last seen him. Living the nice sort of life...it almost made him feel guilty that he was bringing this to his doorstep but there was nothing he could legitimately do about it. He didn't have anyone else he trusted. Clint scaled up the wall of the two story house that he had...sniffed the other man out at. For all he knew? This was his girlfriend's house or something and he was still off. He didn't strike him as the settling down type. Phil had been married to his job for far too long and pushed people away from the phone conversations they had. It was the perfect place to hide as he pushed the window on the top story open before slipping inside.

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Phil didn't mind the personal space invasion at all. He didn't really let himself lean into it, but when Clint moved and came back, he did move his own arm to the back of the sofa behind Clint. Just because Clint had hit on him as a kid didn't mean he was still interested, but Phil didn't think physical affection was a bad idea when he was in a situation like this.

"Political science. I want to join the FBI." He smiled and let his arm press against the back of Clint's shoulders just a little. "I can't believe you kept all of those, Clint." It wasn't bad. Phil was flattered and more than that, it just made him happy to know that he mattered a little to Clint.

He shook his head. Dangerous topic, Phil. "The pizza should be here soon. Is there anything you want to watch?" He wants to ask Clint about his life, but given everything he's been through, Phil figures that might not be a safe topic just yet.

When he felt the movement of Phil's arm behind him, Clint didn't feel as awkward as he had felt when he did it himself. It felt, welcoming. Honestly, he was usually the type of person who didn't allow opportunity to just slip past him. But with Phil it was different. Their initial meeting was different and the fact that Clint had gone out of his way to find him again was way different. Usually he wanted to forget people who he met in bars or who had seen his and Barney's sibling rivalry at it's best. Phil was really different.

Clint's brow arched up as he looked over to him. "A fed? Well...that's new." His mind first went with 'a criminal with a fed'. It didn't exactly offer any good outcomes. "Yanno, that stuff I said 'bout my brother? Yeah, it actually happened at this place call Camp Crystal Lake and this guy with a hockey mask ripped him to pieces. It was tragic." Yes, he went with Friday the 13th but it was the first thing that sprung to mind. He tensed up briefly, but this was Phil. He could trust Phil and it wasn't as if he was a FBI agent yet. He did feel more comforted with Phil's arm pressed against his back as he leaned back into him. He made his hands busy, pulling out two or three postcards that were probably chosen as an afterthought. "Every single one. Gotta admit, got pretty disappointed when they stopped I figured you jus' went on with your life." Got married. Had a kid. All of those things Clint could picture for Phil.

He never pictured them for himself. But he pictured them for Phil. In his dreams, they mostly turned out to be nightmares because it just made Clint feel all the more lonely in the world. "Everyone thought they were from a chick I met and was trying the long distance thing with, so I went with it. Phillipa." Clint winked with a laugh at the thought. "I am not original at all by the way."

That was a lie. He was. He was just amused every time he used that to get people off his back at his collection of postcards. Only a handful of people knew who sent them. Knew what they meant to Clint. "Any campy horror movies on? You could hold me if I get to scared, sir." Clint smirked before tilting his head to the side as he leaned his head back on Phil's arm. "When you get into the FBI, I think you should start The X-Files." He mused under his breath. "I see big things in your future, Agent Coulson."

Phil rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to turn you in, Clint. You're not entirely in control. I understand that. And I didn't just go on. They started to get returned." He hadn't entirely stopped thinking about Clint. How could he?

He let his arm relax, coming around Clint's shoulders to hold him. If they could hug, this should be okay, too, right? Phil had never thought of the post cards as love notes. More than a few times, he'd wanted to, but he'd held back. Maybe it was stupid. It had seemed stupid until he'd gone into the Army. Everyone sent love notes to their significant others there. Of course, Clint wasn't his significant other, so that might have pushed him into creepy territory.

With his free hand, he picks up the remote and starts flipping to the movie channels. "So I'm probably Mulder in this case. Will you be Scully?" He grins. Given the sexual tension on that show, maybe not the most appropriate thing to say...

"Well, I dunno...it coulda possibly happened." He shrugged, but he was sure his eyes told it all. He didn't think Phil would turn him in. He didn't know the man that very well, but he remembered that night and he remembered Phil bailing him out of trouble. He had been the first person who didn't think Clint was just some punk kid who got into fights or anything of the like on a regular basis. He was. But he was so much more than that if people just took some time and listened to him. It was easier to open up to Phil in the couple of hours he was at the bar than anyone he had known for years. He didn't think it was just because he was attracted to him. It went deeper than Clint knew and he didn't know how he would be able to handle it. "The circus kept movin', I forgot to do an address...forward, crap. Then I got put in the hospital cos of...the event that caused my condition." The entire time he was there he wished that the next person to open the door would have been Phil instead of a nurse or a doctor. All of which just said 'someone will come visit soon'. No one ever did.

Clint left two nights later, regardless of the fact he had been admitted with "supposedly" mortal wounds. It was a miracle he survived, they said. Most nights now, he wished he didn't. "Is it bad to say 'm glad you didn't go on? Not that..." God, there was no way of saving that, was there? He had hoped that Phil wouldn't have moved on. "Not that...it would have been bad. It just woulda made me breakin' in a little bit awkward." Or the hugging. Or the fact that Clint didn't seem to fight the need to gravitate towards him when he wasn't running away when Phil's back was turned.

For what it was worth, Clint had regretted the idea the moment he stepped out of the apartment and onto the street. Clint was sure that writing Phil back would have just been...a mess. He had sent a couple letters when (apparently) the postcards didn't get returned. A little later, he'd sent some that remained...unsent. At some point he had gotten to the point where he thought he could send a letter that said 'I like you, do you like me? Check yes or no.' like some gradeschooler. But he didn't think it was for the best. Nor did he want the postcards to stop at the time. Especially when he knew that Phil was overseas and he wasn't. He was sure he could've watched the man's back if he was able too. A part of him had stood in front of an army recruiting office for about two hours every day for a week while the circus had been in town, contemplating whether he should just sign up and follow Phil over there.

He decided against it; it might have seemed a little too creepy.

A bit of hope sparked within him when Phil asked that. Stupidly placed hope, but hope nonetheless. He slipped the postcards into the backpack, zipping it closed and dropping it at his feet. "Well, if you want to be into that. I could get a red wig and skirt."

Smiling indulgently, Phil leaned into Clint just a little more. There was not way Phil would turn him in, just like there had been no way that Phil would really just forget him. Silly as it was, Clint drew him in like a moth to a flame. Phil was kind of resigned to being a little doomed now that Clint was here. Still, he was going to skirt the issue as long as he could. Clint was upset. He was going through trauma and Phil wouldn't take advantage of him. Clint needed to focus on himself and Phil needed to help him, not give him more to worry about.

"I'm not so sure that you could pull off that 90s hair, Clint. Maybe just stick with what you've got." He ruffled Clint's hair affectionately.

He liked Clint. Of course he did. He also knew that the idea of Clint he'd built up in his head could very well not be anything like Clint. He'd set himself up for so much disappointment. He wanted to push that off for as long as he could. And so he'd sent post cards instead of the long letters he'd wanted to send.

He'd stayed away and written instead of showing up, even though he really had considered just showing up at the address he was mailing the cards to. He'd considered it more than once, including right before he'd joined the army. Had he known that Clint had been hospitalized at the time, he likely would have shown up. He hadn't known. He'd had no way of knowing, of course.

He settled on an old zombie B movie. "This looks promisingly terrible."

The ruffling of the hair did not boost confidence in Clint at the idea of anything happening the way he wanted it too. Phil was there, Phil wasn't looking at him like he was jail-bait anymore. Clint was just lucky he had several things on his mind other than what he was dealing with. There had been occasions when he had still been getting the letters to go out and search for Phil. To find him and tell him he was older now and that the past was past. Let's get to know each other. Clint just didn't want him physically. He wanted to get to know more about him which was far more than anyone else he had ever tried to get with. But then again, everyone he tried to get with was usually more into him than Phil was at this point in time. Clint had been upset, yes. But there were other reasons why he had chosen Phil above anyone else he had met and they had tried to keep tabs with him. Most of them he didn't really like. But Phil had already seen him at his worst once already and didn't even bat an eyelash. It was that reaction that kept Clint interested.

And it was that reaction that made Clint want to know about him. Already he knew more about Phil than Phil knew about him; he wasn't sure how Phil felt about that. But he didn't really want to delve into that conversation. Right now, he mostly just wanted to hold him again. Ground himself again before he swatted at Phil's hand with an annoyed look on his face. "Really? 'm flirtin' with you and you ruffle my hair. You might as well have added 'good dog' at the end of that 'n spare humorin' me a little longer." It sounded more aggressive than he intended to sound. He didn't know whether to blame the statement on himself or the fact that really had gotten more aggressive since being turned. Which was still himself, but it was more difficult to keep it in check than everything else.

Clint didn't pull away from the lack of space he had between him and Phil before he just leaned forward, running his hand through his hair and mentally telling himself to calm down a little. "Only Gillian Anderson could pull off the pencil skirts, anyway." He amended, looking back up at the screen before leaning back again. He wasn't going to apologize.

He was going to apologize. He was just holding it off a little bit longer because he didn't want to feel like some idiot who wasn't in control of this. Of himself. He knew he wasn't in control of this that he wanted some control in a tiny aspect of his life. Even if it was just Phil humoring him by flirting back. It would have been a much needed confidence boost as he leaned his head back against Phil's arm, chewing on the inside of his mouth as his eyes turned back to the television screen. "There are...no such things as bad zombie movies. There's a little jem in each of them. One zombie movie I watched when I was a kid...the zombies actually said 'brains' that I didn't think they were that threatenin'. Jus' like with all monster flicks. Yanno, for a while I resorted to watching every single werewolf movie I found for research."

A pause.

"All of 'em are crap. I should write a strongly worded letter jus' cos they don't really hit any useful information other than 'OW SILVER' 'n...other crap." Clint mused on the collection of werewolf movies he had watched cautiously over the past months whenever he got a chance. "I'm sorry....too. I didn't mean to...snap, it's jus' really hard not too. 've wanted to come here for so long. I wish under better circumstances, if 'm honest. I woulda rocked your world." Clinton Francis Barton: will never, ever beat around the bush for too long before actually saying something.

Part of Phil hadn't been sure how much of Clint's flirting was purposeful and how much of it was just the way he was around others. It hadn't mattered before, because Phil hadn't felt right acting on it. It was hard to ignore this, though. How could he ignore Clint blatantly pointing out that he was flirting? Still, there was a conflict inside him. He knew what he wanted, but that didn't mean it was the right thing to do.

He smiled indulgently as Clint rambled about movie accuracy. It was cute. It was cuter than it had any right to be. Clint was cuter than he had any right to be. Phil was remembering everything about Clint that had interested him in the first place, back when Clint had really been too young and Phil had honestly been too scared to make a move, even without the age difference.

He angled more towards Clint and moved the hand Clint had swatted at to catch his chin, trying to turn his head to face Phil. It was an affectionate, almost intimate gesture. "You're not a dog." He hadn't thought that touching Clint's hair would be taken like that. "I think you're taking the werewolf thing a little too far with that, don't you?"

He studied Clint's face. "And I'm not humoring you. I like you just fine without the skirt and wig." He didn't need the apology from Clint. He knew that Clint was having a hard time. This had to be stressful... it had to be awful. He just wanted to see Clint smile. He wanted to help.

He leaned in to press his lips to Clint's. He wasn't sure how much it would help or if it might make everything worse, but he wanted to. He was slow and more unsure than usual. He wanted to give Clint ample time to refuse.

Clint was a flirtatious individual, that was true. But sometimes, Clint flirted with purpose. Mostly if he ended up at someone's doorstep after years of not seeing each other. Especially when his flirting seemed like a stupid attempt of flirting when compared to whenever he flirted with anyone else. He genuinely liked Phil. He genuinely didn't see anything wrong with him, maybe with himself. But not with Phil. He also knew the gravity of the situation. Someone could say that Clint's interest was purely because Phil 'rescued' him rather than attraction. That person would have gotten knocked out, but still they could have said it. He didn't want there to be any doubts about him in Phil's mind when Clint doubted enough about himself for the entire universe. All he wanted...was to have something tangible to hold onto. It wasn't an impossible request. It was just a pretty weird one.

There was never a moment in this conversation where Clint didn't think to himself he should have came back into Phil's life sooner. Before everything happened to them and maybe they would have been on normal footing if that accident was pre-destined or something and he would have gotten bitten around this place rather than where he had been. Clint allowed Phil to guide his head, offering up a shrug when he said that. "I gotta get into the mindset. Monster, danger to society, etc. I won't be careful without that." Clint unfortunately didn't really see it much like that either, or he believed he didn't. The words left his mouth before he had time to filter anything.

Otherwise he would have still been lamely attempting to flirt with him. "I...huh." Clint tilted his head to the side, a smile tugging at his lips at that. "Good, cos I don't have the legs to pull a skirt off. It'd be embarrassing for...jus' about anyone, sir." Fortunately, Clint didn't take the ample time to refuse. He instead switched it to 'what the fuck is taking you so long to kiss me', leaning in to press his lips against Phil's. And it was just like everything he ever thought it would be (cheesy, yes. But Clint had many years and tons of time to think about what kissing Phil would be like).

Phil's hand slid over Clint's jaw to cup his cheek. Clint was kissing him back. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected any of this. He smiled and kissed Clint again. However cute Clint had been before, it was different now. He wasn't just cute. He was incredibly attractive and not just physically. There was something about the way he carried himself, something about the way he spoke that made Phil smile.

"You're not a monster, Clint." Maybe in the technical way that he could become a strange creature, but not the philosophical way. If he wasn't in control, he couldn't be blamed. It was that simple. Furthermore, Phil knew that there had to be some way to control or contain it. They would figure something out, even if it just wound up being locking Clint up on full moons or whatever they had to do. He would protect Clint. He would find a way to keep him safe, including from whatever was inside of him.

"And stop calling me 'sir'."

The younger man smiled into the kiss because...well, he wanted that for so long. The grounding feeling he felt when he was just around Phil only strengthened as stupid as that sounded to him in his head. He wanted to say how much he want to do that from the very beginning, but again. The last thing he wanted to do was break this all off before it began. To make things awkward between them when Phil was offering his home to him. Not a lot of people would do that for someone they met once and just randomly showed up in the home years later asking for help.

"'m glad you think so." He grinned a bit, shifting a bit on the sofa before laying his head down on Phil's lap. Making himself comfortable for the most part. If he was already allowed to invade Phil's space, he was allowed to use him as a pillow. It was how these things naturally progressed. Move in. Flirt. Kiss. Pillow. Well, usually not in normal people world. But he doubted they were anywhere close to normal as he watched the screen. His focus was purely on Phil though. Even if he wasn't facing him. "I like it. Sir. Better than 'baby'." Meaning, he'd already adopted a pet name for the name and was planning to use it to it's full potential.

Phil smiled down at him. It was a weird pet name, but it could be worse. He brushed his fingers through Clint's hair a few times before smoothing them down Clint's arm. He let his fingers rest over Clint's hand. His toes were finally warmed up and though the bottom of his feet were still a little sore, he felt more relaxed now. Content.

"I'm going to come up with a terrible, embarrassing pet name for you. We'll see how you like it." He hoped that comment wasn't... what? Presumptuous? God, he really wasn't this awkward most of the time, but this was Clint. He didn't want to fuck this up and he didn't want to chase Clint away when Clint needed the help.

He grinned a bit when he felt Phil's fingers brush through his hair, slide along his arm and rest on his hand and for the first time in the past couple months he felt normal. He felt happier than he ever felt in years because this was exactly the picture of domestication he had pictured when he saw himself finally finding someone who made him happy enough. Even in those dreams, Phil was usually in them. Just like this.

"Sir is not an embarrassing pet name though." He pointed out with a smile, finding it endearing that Phil was coming off a little bit awkward in all of this. He twisted his hand a little to wrap around Phil's. "Would it defeat the purpose if I like whatever terrible, embarrassing pet name you come up for me?" Cos he knew he would.

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