8. Chapter 8

Steve was possibly already deeply in love with Phil Coulson by the time he left the recovery room late that night. Phil had fallen asleep a while back and Steve eventually got tired of the stern, disapproving looks from Harold the Night Nurse who kept reminding him of official visiting hours. He took the elevator up to the common room floor because he was tired but he needed to talk to Clint, and JARVIS had said that Clint was making a late night snack in the kitchen, which in retrospect Steve thought he should have guessed.

Clint was watching the pop corn tumble out of the kernel bin inside the popcorn machine (because of course Stark would think that a popcorn machine belonged in a kitchen), and the heat of his gaze was probably hot enough to fry the corn all by itself.

"Clint." Steve stood by the doorway — he was nothing if not tactical.

"Cap." Clint did not look up at him.

"I'm sorry. I made an assumption, and it was a mistake, and I lost my temper."

Clint glanced at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Steve relaxed a little, realizing that Clint was not about to launch himself across the room to resume the fight. "I thought you two were, ah, a couple." He tried not to cringe, the habit of not talking about such things still strong. It was how he was raised, and he knew it was going to be a while before he was comfortable about it, but he figured the best way to meet that obstacle was head-on.

Clint did not seem to notice Steve's discomfort. "Well, we're not, and it's kind of gross to think about."

"Gross?"

"He's like the brother I should have had." Clint finally turned to look at Steve. "He's only twelve years older than me but he offered to adopt me, once. Just so I'd have a legal family. Seemed kind of stupid but I did make him my legal proxy or whathoosits. Medical next-of-kin, that kind of thing. But we're not sleeping together. Ew." He filled up a bowl with the hot popcorn. "Anyway I kind of dig girls, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows.

Steve snorted. "I do."

"And you?"

"Me what?" Steve grabbed a handful of popcorn as Clint walked past, and followed him into the living area. They settled down on the stupidly long couch. It was a familiar and comfortable setting, and Steve relaxed, the events of the past few days finally hitting him.

"Don't you dig girls? I mean Captain America is always chasing after some girl, in the movies and comics. Phil gets all misty eyed when he talks about Director Carter."

It was a probing question mostly in the way that Clint left a lot of the implications blank for Steve to fill in. He sighed. "I 'dig' girls fine. And Peggy was…there was a time when I thought she was it for me, she was my girl. Or, you know, I hoped she was."

"I know that feeling, man." Clint groaned and leaned back on the couch, mirroring Steve's position.

"But I also 'dig' guys."

Clint did not react in the shocked way that Phil had, and Steve wondered how transparent he had been. "Yeah? Any guy in particular?" Clint grinned at him.

"Go to hell, Barton," Steve snapped while trying not to laugh. Clint did his little 'kaw kaw!' hoot of amusement and flicked Steve off.

"So you guys working things out?" Clint shoved about two handfuls of popcorn in his mouth, chewing slowly.

"I think so. We've at least made progress."

Clint kept chewing for a while. "He's not the kind of guy that dates. I don't mean he's not the kind of guy who dates around, I mean he doesn't date, period. That on-again/off-again thing with Stan the cellist is something he's toyed with for years, but it never took, and Phil didn't go looking for anything else. I figured something went wrong for him somewhere and he just didn't want to settle down with anyone."

"Warning me off?" Steve pulled a knee up and turned to face Clint, who stayed on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

"Nah, not like that. I guess I'm trying to say that I can't help you out with this, honestly. I don't have a fucking clue what Phil might want out of a relationship, much less a relationship with Captain America. What I do know is that he's the kind of guy who offered to adopt me, just because he cared enough to let me know I wasn't alone anymore. He once led three teams into an underground bunker full of terrorists against orders, just to pull Nat and Sitwell out alive. And I know he and Fury have been friends since Phil was in college — they don't mention it, but you hear them talk and things get said."

"You're saying he's a guy who would take this kind of thing very seriously."

"Yeah. That." Clint nodded and loaded up with popcorn again.

"Good thing I'm a serious kind of guy." Steve smiled and got up to leave Clint with his popcorn and his strange taste in movies, which inexplicably ran to what Bruce called "slasher horror flicks" and Steve called "utterly disgusting."

While he thought the conversation with Clint indicated that he and Phil were on the same page, it was weird to think of the situation as dating, much less a more formal courtship, because they were both men. Although part of him was just as surprised at the idea that he was suddenly in a committed relationship as the fact that it was with another man. At least, he thought it was a committed relationship — he hoped so. Steve knew plenty of guys who had gotten married to girls they barely knew, during the war, and it wasn't as if shotgun weddings weren't common enough in his section of Brooklyn during the Depression. People tended to forget that WWII was right on the heels of the Roaring 20s, along with jazz, weed and free love. Steve was fine with changing mores, he had seen plenty in his life, but to think of himself being in both a serious and openly queer relationship was strange.

He went to bed but it was a restless sleep. He remembered the look Bruce had given him at Phil's funeral, when he explained that Phil was gay, as if he thought Steve might…what? Get up and walk out? Because he was Captain America and wouldn't "approve" of that kind of thing?

He stared at the ceiling, wondering if Phil thought the same way.