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Fix Him	By : Strailo Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 10082 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Fix Him
Fandom: Avengers
Pairing: Phil/Clint
Chapter: 24
Word Count: 1,575
AN: Last one until I finish off Sing Me a Lullabye.
*~*~*~*
He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but it had.
It had started with each night that had been filled with nightmares that had chased sleep away from him and left him wondering what to do to fill the hours before work with. He had taken to watching TV in the living room or doing some kind of paperwork that needed to be done so he might as well take care of it.
But mostly he watched TV.
Occasionally, he read the news online, catching up to the papers that he had subscriptions to. He was almost caught up and had sent any information he deemed interesting and needed to the archivist in the helicarrier.
After a while though, Barton had taken to joining him in his late nights. The archer would either watch TV with him, or cook, or even read a book during their nights together. Sometimes he would hide away in the little cubby hole that had a bed in there and actually sleep.
They had learned early on to have another alarm out in the living room and turned on whenever they were in the living room. It worked for them, really, and they made sure that they did get plenty of sleep. It wasn’t too hard for them to fall into a pattern whenever one of them had nightmares and found their way to the living room.
Coulson had woken up from one such nightmare, once more dreaming about Loki and almost dying due to his attack, and wandered out into the living room with his lap top in hand. Flopping down onto the couch, he set the alarm that sat on the small side table and flipped on the small lamp next to the alarm. Shifting his legs to stretch out over the couch, he turned the TV on and opened his laptop, settling in to catch up on his newspapers.
He looked up when a grumpy looking Barton walked in, still wearing his mission outfit, case with bow and quiver in hand, and raised an eyebrow. “Go take a shower and change. I’ll make coffee and food for you,” Coulson said, standing up from the couch and putting his laptop aside for later. Barton sent him a thankful smile and walked back to his room, the sound of a shower starting filtering out to him just under the sound of whatever was playing on the TV.
Looking at the TV, he noted that it was one of the few shows about restaurants that he enjoyed. He rather enjoyed watching the man, who he knew to be a rather well known chef himself, tear into the owners and then help them rebuild their businesses.
Shaking his head, he pulled out some already cooked hamburger meat that he had been planning on turning into spaghetti, but would do as tacos. Tossing the meat, some water and his pre-mixed spices into a pan, he left that to heat and cook as he grabbed lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, taco shells and flour tortillas. He soon had the lettuce and tomatoes chopped, and in bowls, with the cheese shredded and the tortillas heating in the oven.
Barton came out, sniffing the air and taking in spicy scent of cooked meat with just the right types of spices teasing his sense of smell. “Made tacos?” he asked, taking the plate that was handed to him by his friend before Coulson bent down and pulled out the tray of tortilla’s from the oven, placing them onto a plate.
“Yes. I had the meat ready for spaghetti but not the sauce, so I went with tacos for now,” Coulson hummed, taking two of the hard taco shells and two of the flour tortillas for his own food, Barton taking three of each. The two men made their tacos, some salsa and sour cream being found and used along with the other toppings. Once they had their food and soda, they migrated to the couch and sat down to eat and watch the owners get ripped into for whatever they had done this time.
“How’s work been going?” Barton finally asked. They both knew that they didn’t need to talk but they enjoyed talking with each other on occasion. It meant that they caught up with their lives seeing as Barton was often doing his missions while Coulson was working on keeping the Avenger’s under some semblance of control.
“Busy. I swear that Stark creates the situations he gets in just to see me squirm and rush around to smooth feathers down so we’re not eyeballed to damn hard,” Couslon snorted as he finished off his first taco and went in for his second. “Thor of course keeps getting stalked by fangirls. They see him and suddenly it’s a mob scene, especially when he wears jeans and a t-shirt. I keep having to send someone to save him from the horror that is a squealing, horny fangirl.”
“The poor god of Thunder,” Coulson chuckled, shaking his head with an amused look on his face as he finished off another one of his tacos, moving onto his third. Barton eyed the other male and finished off his own third taco and quickly after that, his fourth.
Coulson pulled his laptop close to him, letting it sit on the couch before him as Barton took up the end of it with a book and his food. They were quite content with just sitting around, eating and talking as they were, the handler occasionally telling his friend a bit of news that he thought the other man would find interesting before continuing with his reading. Barton had soon finished off his plate of food and his soda, and dished up the last of the taco makings, handing Coulson a small soft taco before he retook his seat.
“Thanks,” Coulson hummed, eating the taco in a couple of bites before wiping his mouth with a tissue that he had grabbed from the box that they kept in a drawer. He had seen the bottle of lube stashed next to that under some papers but hadn’t said anything about it, knowing that the other would probably deny any knowledge of it.
“Not a problem,” Barton grunted before digging around for a legal pad and a pen that they kept in one of the many drawers for whenever they needed to write something and didn’t want to go to their offices. Finding it, he started to write out his newest mission report as Coulson continued to read his newspapers, finding his own notebook and making note on a few sightings of the people that they were watching.
He would do some searching the next day since he was to join the Helicarrier for a week long update meeting and would have complete access to the archives and computers. “I really need to get these computers set up to hook into the helicarrier’s computers,” Coulson grunted, his companion chuckling lightly at him.
“Indeed you do. It would make my job so much easier, especially when it came to turning in my mission reports,” Barton stated, shaking his head with an amused smile.
Coulson chuckled and went back to relaxing, knowing that only in a few short hours, he would be getting onto the helicarrier and joining into a meeting, but it wasn’t so bad as long as he had his friend with him, no matter how much he wanted to jump the guy’s bones.
They didn’t know when it became normal to just relax so late at night after their nightmares, but they found that they didn’t mind all that much. It worked well for them after all.
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Fix Him