Phil knew that he was competent. He was more than competent, really, and he was confident in himself. He was not, however, interesting. Aside from his job, he had pretty ordinary hobbies in what little of his free time remained. Even growing up, he'd been more interested in pursuits like Dungeons and Dragons or reading a good book than in anything that would be popularly described as fun. As such, he knew that outside of work, he didn't have much he could say that would interest most people. He honestly treasured those times that they were forced to spend talking only to each other. How else could he spend so much time talking to Clint at all? That the man even listened to him talk about Captain America or whatever else meant a lot to him.
He was sure that Clint was unaware of everything. How could he not be? The man wasn't always the most subtle. Phil knew that he would say something the moment that he found out if he did and that was the only reason Phil knew that Clint hadn't noticed.
Phil would probably be bothered to know that Clint had followed his ex and spoken to him, but Phil was a hypocrite, because more than once, he found himself looking into people that Clint dated. He never treated them differently, but he did read their background checks and personnel files. It might have been crossing a line, but Phil couldn't bring himself to feel bad about that.
He dug into Clint's drawer to pull out a pair of track pants and went for his own belt. Of course Clint had burned his suits. That was just to be expected, wasn't it? He toed off his shoes and carefully stepped out of his pants so that he didn't contaminate anything else. He left them in a pile in a corner out of the way and pulled on the track pants quickly. "I don't snore. Someone would have told me before now if I did."
He looked down at the box that had his his foot. "What's this?" He bent to pick it up, opening it carefully. He almost dropped it when he saw what was inside. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he looked up at Clint. He couldn't imagine how much time and money had gone into this. No, that was wrong. He could imagine exactly how much. And there it was. That was why he was utterly, disgustingly in love with Clint. He didn't even have words. He just kept staring.
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He was sure that Clint was unaware of everything. How could he not be? The man wasn't always the most subtle. Phil knew that he would say something the moment that he found out if he did and that was the only reason Phil knew that Clint hadn't noticed.
Phil would probably be bothered to know that Clint had followed his ex and spoken to him, but Phil was a hypocrite, because more than once, he found himself looking into people that Clint dated. He never treated them differently, but he did read their background checks and personnel files. It might have been crossing a line, but Phil couldn't bring himself to feel bad about that.
He dug into Clint's drawer to pull out a pair of track pants and went for his own belt. Of course Clint had burned his suits. That was just to be expected, wasn't it? He toed off his shoes and carefully stepped out of his pants so that he didn't contaminate anything else. He left them in a pile in a corner out of the way and pulled on the track pants quickly. "I don't snore. Someone would have told me before now if I did."
He looked down at the box that had his his foot. "What's this?" He bent to pick it up, opening it carefully. He almost dropped it when he saw what was inside. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he looked up at Clint. He couldn't imagine how much time and money had gone into this. No, that was wrong. He could imagine exactly how much. And there it was. That was why he was utterly, disgustingly in love with Clint. He didn't even have words. He just kept staring.