somethingtoavenge | Appointments

[If it had become normal for Coulson to curl up on Clint's bed overnight in cat form, well, there was no-one else around to see except Natasha sometimes and she just seemed to think it was adorable. Or possible blackmail material. Either way, it was kind of nice to be able to make sure he was okay, and to keep Lucky away from trying to get too friendly.

And if he sometimes wakes up snuggling the kitten like a plush toy, this is also not something they will ever mention.]

[Phil was quite content to share the bed with Clint as a cat. The other man was quite warm, which was nice, and it kept Lucky away, which was the bigger plus.

A little cuddling was nice too, though he banished that thought to be looked at later.

This morning seemed like any other morning. Coulson was the first to wake up, per usual. He blinked against the dim lighting, the newly familiar feeling of an arm over his chest and yawned. Rubbing at his eyes he considered getting up, but the groggy feeling of no coffee, sadly familiar now, made him stay, closing his eyes against the filtering red of the sun.

His brain kept ticking however.

Less than a minute later his eyes flew open and jerked his hand up to his face.
It was nice and human. Nice and human annnnnnd he was so very naked.

Okay, so body shy he is not, but full nudity is a it much in the morning. Especially next to a friendly assassin, who was easy to wake up and was expecting a kitten for Christ sake.

Shit.]

((ooc; yeah, idk. NAKED TIM-/tasered then beaten to death with paperwork))

[Unfortunately for Coulson, Clint, given someone he was comfortable enough to share a beg with, was a cuddler. It was a well guarded secret and Coulson would be experiencing that now; Clint curled close to him, head against his chest and an arm thrown over him.

Yeah, Clint is kinda heavy.

The movement though, that is enough to wake him sharply because no-one had gone to bed with him except a kitte and now there's someone there and...

He's got the gun drawn from the bedside table, the safety off and pointed at Coulson's head before he even has chance to wake up properly.]

[Coulson is indeed finding this out. Not that he minds, but it is rather interesting. And maybe it makes a bloom of warmth suffuse his chest, but that's no one's business but his own.

Not as heavy as other people who have fallen asleep on Coulson. He's not naming names however.

Phil barely breathes as Clint reacts, freezing instinctively. Inwardly he's cursing quietly in a several languages and mutter deprivations about the Malnosso. He is also very glad that Clint is only pointing the gun at him instead of pressing is against his head.

The moment stretches before Phil breaks it.]

It's me.

[His voice is sleep rusty, but infinetly familiar.]

Changed back.

[Still very naked.]

((ooc: Hey, now Clint can see his massive scar! Because we didn't quite get to that earlier. Or what not, up to you.))

[He doesn't stop just because Coulson speaks, keeps the gun trained on him, taking in every minute detail. Nudity doesn't bother him. He's shared showers with other guys before and Coulson has probably seen him naked in medical enough. His expression tightens when he sees that scar; it's ugly and huge, right across his chest over his heart.

He swallows thickly and finally pulls the gun away, sliding on the safety and setting it aside.]

Welcome back, boss.

[Phil is strangely pleased that Clint didn't just accept his word. Even if the gun till has him tense. Guns pointed at him generally make him tense, but it's a lot harder to see in his suit.

Of course, he sees the moment that Clint sees the scar, huge and ugly and healed. The matching one of the back is worse actually. Phil's not ashamed of his scar, but it does hurt a bit to see the impact it has on his friend.

The tension fades as Clint puts the gun aside.]

Good to be back.

[He pauses.]

Even if it's a bit chilly.

[He reaches out to touch that scar, morbid fascination maybe, but snatches his hand back as though burnt. You have heart. He pulls away quickly, looking a little pale, and moves to perch on the edge of the bed. He's wearing his boxers at least, but nothing else, and he gives Coulson a wry smile.]

Get under the covers. I'll grab you some clothes.

[Phil is surprised yet not when Clint makes to touch the scar. On some level he was rather expecting that. Clint reacting as if burnt, and becoming noticeable pale however, is rather a shock. Phil watches silently, brain churning rapidly, the faintest of frowns pulling at his deadpan expression.

He returns the wry smile and slips under the covers. It is still warm where Clint was, an interesting feeling but nice against his air-chilled skin.]

My workout clothes, if you will. And, thanks.

[He absently sits up against the pillows, pulling the covers up to cover his scar.]

[It's another reminder, something he did and he can never make up for that. Never.

He manages to hold it together at least and nods, pushing himself to his feet.]

Yeah, sure thing. I'll just be a minute.

[He heads out and along the hallway to Coulson's room, grabbing his things. He doesn't go straight back though. The sight of his stuff there in the room, that goddam scar...

He takes a few shuddering breaths, and leans back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. It takes him a few moments to gather himself and then he heads back to his bedroom, tossing Coulson his workout gear with a smile.]

Here. How are you feeling?

[If Phil knew what Clint was thinking he'd give him such a smack on the head.

Instead he ponders over Clint's reaction while the other man is gone, eventually reaching the correct conclusion. Phil sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

There isn't a lot he can do anymore to convince Clint that it wasn't his fault. At least not his death.

Phil puts those thoughts away to be contemplated when he's alone. He accepts the workout gear with a wry smile. He slips the shirt on first.]

Okay. It's a rather weird transition, even if this is my normal form. I think It'll take a moment to adjust.

[He goes to sit down on the edge of the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. His gaze lingers on that scar for a moment before Coulson pulls the shirt on, covering it. It's a relief not to see it, and that makes him feel guilty as all hell.]

I bet it's weird. You were a cat, Coulson. That's never going to not be weird.

Appointments

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action] So i heard you like LATE. /facepalm

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]

January 16th, Morning [Action]