16. Rescued 16

The Cor-mmandos were down for the count, sprawled out by the front door waiting for Phil to return. Since he had already returned once, the dogs obviously figured it was just a matter of time. Clint suspected they would stay right there until they died of dehydration or something, which would really get Phil pissed off at him, so he put their water bowls by the door just in case.

Exhausted from the emotional whiplash of the day, and figuring he wasn't needed anywhere anyway, Clint went to bed. It was only about three in the afternoon, but he thought a nap was not an unreasonable demand. Phil was taken care of, the dogs were immobilized by longing, and Donut was sound asleep again. After Delany left on the promise that Clint would absolutely get Captain America to sign a copy of the Dog Fancy centerfold (Delany actually made him cross his heart), Clint dumped Donut on the middle of his bed, wrapped her in her favorite quilt, and then fell down next to her.

He woke up three hours later to the sound of the Cor-mmandos whimpering to go out. He texted Steve and they took the dogs for their usual walk, Steve explaining that doing something perfectly normal and on schedule might help with their moods.

Clint didn't care, because he was on a countdown to losing them anyway.

Steve nattered on until he noticed a couple taking a picture of them and the dogs. "Oh. Is that why?"

Clint gave the fans a tired smile and nodded. "Yeah. People post photos of us walking the dogs on the Internet, and claim that means we're dating. Also, that time you shielded me from that laser-guy's weapon."

Steve "hmmmm'd" thoughtfully. "I could see how that particular battle position could look compromising."

"Like you would not believe." Clint nodded, remembering the strength of Steve's thighs, which had been pretty impressive from his perspective of the whole fiasco. He gave Steve a side-long glance. "You don’t seem too upset by the rumors."

"They aren't true, for one thing. And I'm used to gossip; when I was with the USO, the publicity guys kept cooking up romances with me and the chorus girls. It was embarrassing but everyone knew it wasn't true, so it was hard to care. Anyway, I'm, uh, taken." He finally blushed.

Clint frowned. "By who?"

"It, uh, well, they…it's complicated?"

"No one should have ever let you on Facebook." Clint shook his head before stopping up short. "Wait, wait. Aw, hell: Tony and Pepper, isn't it?"

Steve blushed further but gave him a short, crisp nod.

"Man. Good luck with that. Pepper is aces but I don't envy you Tony."

"He's easier to handle one-on-one," Steve said innocently, then turned red again. "I didn't mean!"

Clint was too busy laughing to comment. The rest of the walk was made without much conversation. The dogs were dragging, worn out by the events of the day, so there was no jogging and they did not get back to the tower until well after seven p.m. Clint invited Steve in for a beer, which Steve always accepted and enjoyed even if the alcohol didn't do anything for him.

Steve was putting up the leashes as Clint went to check on Donut. The bed was empty and Clint figured she had moved to one of her perches so he toured the flat looking for her. Then he did a second tour, and then started on a third.

"What's wrong?" Steve stood by the refrigerator with two beers in hand.

"Can't find Donut."

"She is small. Maybe she snuck somewhere to get some quiet."

"She had plenty of quiet while we were out with the dogs." Clint got down on his hands and knees and crawled around the living room, looking under the sofa and behind furniture.

Steve sighed the sigh of a man humoring his friend as he started helping look for Donut. Ten minutes later, there was still no Donut, and Clint thought he was developing sudden-onset asthma because he could barely breathe.

"Oh hey, we should have thought of it." Steve snapped his fingers. "JARVIS!"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Do you know where Donut is?"

"Yes, she requested to see Agent Coulson."

Clint sat back on his heels and looked at the ceiling. "She what?"

"I received input indicating that she wished to see Agent Coulson. As I have no instructions regarding her access to the tower, I assisted her in going to his medical suite."

"Weird," Steve said, squinting.

"It is only two floors down, Captain." JARVIS actually sounded a little affronted.

"I meant…never mind. C'mon, Hawkeye. Let's go rescue your cat."

"Get the leashes."

Steve shook his head. "The dogs are pooped."

"Yeah, but if I go see Coulson without them, they will wait until I am asleep and then eat my liver."

Steve squinted at him. "I don't think you really know these dogs as well as you think you do."

"Leashes." Clint pointed at the storage closet.

Clint put Donut's sling on so he'd have some safe place to stash her, and then they were out the door. The dogs were tired but excited to be going out twice in one night and didn't clue in to the fact they were going to see Phil until they were walking down the hall of the medical floor. Clint was very used to that particular floor, being one of the Avengers without super powers or super healing or super anything, so he knew for a fact where Phil had been stashed: one of the corner overnight rooms. The dogs started prancing and then started pulling, and even Steve with his super-strength was tugging at Bucky and Stevie's leashes to haul them back.

When they got to the room, the dogs threw themselves against the leashes, hauling Steve and Clint in after them. Phil looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, Donut in the curve of his arm, on her back with her tail happily twitching.

"Your cat takes after you," Phil said as the dogs clamored around his feet.

"She likes belly rubs?" Clint said and then cringed. Steve laughed and shook his head.

Phil's ears went pink. "I meant she's an escape artist."

"It's a new thing." Clint shrugged.

"Okay, we found her. Here." Steve handed over the leashes. "You're on your own. I've got a date." Steve blushed and gave Phil a small smile. "Not with Clint, by the way. With, uh, other people."

Phil blinked at him, clearly picking up on the plural. "Oh."

Steve patted Phil on the shoulder, scratched under Donut's chin and gave Clint a friendly shove as he walked out. Clint found himself face to face with Phil.

"So. It's an, ah, open relationship?" Phil asked, looking down at Donut and rubbing her belly. Right then, Clint was jealous as hell of his cat, and that seemed wrong.

"It's not. It's not a relationship, I mean." Clint shook his head.

Phil motioned at his bedside tablet. "I looked up AmeriHawk. There is a lot of it out there. And the Dog Fancy photo shoot was…inspired."

"Ugh." Clint went and sat down in one of the visitor chairs. "I knew that was a bad idea, but Pepper is tricksy."

Phil sighed. "Everyone is on first name basis now. It is hard to believe I've been out for over four months, until Captain Rogers called you Clint, and you call Ms. Potts Pepper."

Clint stared at the floor.

Phil cleared his throat. "There is no AmeriHawk?"

"Steve just helps walk the dogs. I needed the help, too. They've been pretty upset since you died. Not-died. What the fuck ever." Clint tipped his head back, wondering how much longer the day could possibly get.

"You've done great with them. They look healthy and they've bonded with you." Phil's foot was rubbing back and forth over Stevie's back as Dum Dum and Bucky kept pacing between the bed and the chair that Clint was in.

"They missed you. It was mean to do that to them." Clint felt himself getting mad, although he told himself not to. It was just ridiculous that he and the dogs had been through hell when Phil had been alive the whole time.

"I can understand why Fury kept this a secret."

"Well I sure as fuck can't!" Clint yelled, surging up. "Do you know what that did to me? Knowing that I led the attack that helped Loki kill you? Knowing that you were dead because of me? Knowing that I lost every chance I ever had with you because I'm such a fuck up? No! I don't understand it at all! I was off duty and in therapy for nearly three god-damn months because I lost the love of my life, and Fury knew that! He knew why! What the hell, Phil? You think taking care of your damn dogs made up for any of that? Every day they looked at me waiting for me to bring you back, and I couldn't, you were DEAD and—" He gave up, sinking down to the floor, where Stevie crawled into his lap and licked his face. Clint wrapped his arms around the dog and held on, rocking him, trying to clear his mind.

He heard Phil walking over, slowly and carefully, and then sat down in the chair behind him. Clint leaned back just enough to feel Phil's leg press against his back lightly.

"Clint."

Clint let go of Stevie, who was promptly replaced by Bucky, who liked shoving his nose into Clint's armpit and did so. It tickled but Clint was in no mood to dislodge the dog, who seemed to need comfort as much as he did. He sucked in a breath when he felt Phil's fingers carding through his hair.

"Clint."

"I missed you. I fucking missed you so bad. It hurt. It hurt and it was my fault and now you're alive and you want your dogs back and I'm going to miss them and, and, fuck. I always lose something." He buried his face in Bucky's ruff of fur.

He heard Donut's peculiar little mew and he dislodged Bucky as he sat up, turning around. She was in Phil's lap, staring at him, one paw out and patting the air in front of her. Clint leaned forward until her paw was smacking at his nose and his chest was pressed up against Phil's thigh. He brought up one hand and draped it over his cat, his little witchy, prissy girl who was everything to him.

"Yeah, girl, I still got you." He put his head down on Phil's thigh and let Donut head butt him.

It was a moment before he realized that Phil was still petting him.

"Sir?"

"Clint."

"Phil?" Clint looked up at Phil, who was staring down at him with eyes full of affection.

"I'm not at my best. If you want me to kiss you, you're going to have to come up here."

Clint just stared at him. Donut smacked him on the chin. "Hey!" He grabbed her paw. She shook it until he let go, and only then did he look back up at Phil.

Phil's hand gentled over Clint's face, his palm caressing his cheek and then moving to hold Clint's chin, looking into his eyes. "I'm making an assumption here, based on your comments about missing your chance with the love of your life."

Clint blanched, remembering what he said. "I don't understand—"

"Why do you think I left the dogs to you?"

"Because I'm a chump?" Clint's heart jumped to his throat.

"Because I love you. I trust you. I knew you would take care of them for me. In the end I thought it was the most you would be willing to accept from me."

"You're joking." Clint's brain stuttered over the words Phil was throwing at him.

"No. I've been in love with you for a long time." He pointed at the bed. "I'm supposed to be asleep. Recovering. But I could not get you out of my mind, so I spent three exhausting hours looking at how happy you are with Captain Rogers, walking my dogs and." He stopped dead there.

"You saw the news shots of that laser guy's attack?" Clint cringed.

"It did look rather compromising." Phil glanced away.

"We were in the middle of a battle! God, never mind, no one listens." He thunked his head down on Phil's thigh.

"So that's a 'no' on being kissed?" Phil asked, his voice light but strained.

Clint sat up on his knees, keeping one hand on Donut but wrapping his other hand around Phil's neck. As he pulled him in and their lips brushed, Clint let out a hard grunt. Phil gave him a startled look and leaned back.

"Your damn dog is on my feet again," Clint said through clinched teeth, looking back at where Dum Dum had sprawled across his feet and ankles.

Phil's expression turned from surprised to amused to shocked. He stared down at Dum Dum.

Clint dropped his hand from Phil's neck, sensing that something was going on that he did not understand. "What?"

"Does he do this a lot?"

"Only when I stop long enough." Clint sighed, wondering what had happened to the kissing idea.

"Clint," Phil said, his hand clutching at Clint's arm.

"What?"

Phil looked up at him. "They are rescue dogs."

"You mentioned that once. Yeah, so?"

"Dum Dum was starving and beaten when he was brought in to Corgi Rescue. He didn't trust anyone; it took weeks before he stopped hiding whenever anyone walked into the room."

"Well I can't fucking tell, he's always dumping his ass on me." Clint was still on his knees with a corgi trapping his lower legs, and there was no kissing going on.

"Clint, he won't get on the bed with me, even now. I've taken care of him for three years, and he still won't eat from my hand."

Clint thought back, and realized that, in fact, every time he had seen Phil giving Dum Dum treats he always put them on the ground for the dog to eat up. He looked down at Dum Dum, who looked back up him with his tongue lolling. "He's always sitting on me."

Phil shook his head, still surprised. "He finally bonded with Stevie and Bucky after a few months but I've never known him to feel safe with another person, not even me. But he's completely at ease with you."

"Not just me, he let Thor pick him up."

Phil looked stunned. "You're kidding."

"No. And believe me, this is his favorite thing. It's like owning corgi slippers, he's always on my feet."

Phil was looking at Clint with an expression that on anyone else would be awe. "He feels safe with you."

"I had them for four months," Clint sighed and crossed his arms, the mood of whatever they had going effectively broken. "I think they broke me."

"You bonded with my dogs," Phil said, taking Clint's face in his hands. His touch was shaky and he still looked like hell, but he was smiling. "You know what this means?"

"No?" Clint caught his breath as the feelings all rushed back, the fear and the need and the anger and the need. "Phil, please," he begged as Phil tugged him into a long, soft kiss.

Phil broke the kiss with a deep breath, holding their foreheads together. "It means you get a matched set."

"What?" Clint tried to think through his heated blood rush.

"I go where my dogs go, Clint. If you want to keep the dogs, you need to plan on keeping me too."

Clint stared at Phil's slick, wet lips. "I keep everything?"

Phil smiled. "This time, I think you do." He leaned forward and kissed Clint again. Between them, Donut snorted and squirmed, so Clint lifted her to his chest as he closed the distance between him and Phil. Dum Dum grumbled and flopped onto his back, angled over both of Clint's calves while Steve and Bucky stood guard in front of the chair.

It was an awkward, graceless kiss, but Clint couldn't remember a better one.