InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Rise n' shine, Sammy! "

likeyourwheels (likeyourwheels) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-07-19 23:47:00

Entry tags:

canton everett delaware iii, clint barton

WHO: Canton Everett Delaware III & Clint Barton
WHAT: It's not a date, but the mistletoe has other ideas.
WHEN: July 20th; Evening
WHERE: The Roadhouse
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

Canton had to admit that he was more than a little encouraged. Clint seemed to be coping a lot better than he had been. Whether it was the arrival of Coulson, the rearrival of Agent Romanoff, or just the fact that he had finally allowed himself to get the feelings that he'd been holding back out, Canton couldn't say for sure, but the results were still relief enough. Certainly not a sign of a full recovery from what had happened to him. Canton didn't expect that for quite some time, if ever, but it was enough to soothe some of the worries that he had been harboring over the other man. Seeing him act a bit more like himself, without the seeming strain of trying to keep up the front of everything being fine, had allowed Canton to relax into the situation. The offer of drinks had really just been to get the pair of them out for a bit, to let them get the chance to actually enjoy themselves without it being official or heavily emotional, and Canton had just had to laugh when Clint had assumed it was a date.

He was kidding, of course, Canton was more than certain, but at the end of the day, Canton didn't want Barton walking away thinking that he was going to end up felt up the second that he'd passed his tolerance limit, whatever it was. It was just a drink, an evening out, a bit of fun, maybe a friendly game of darts that he was bound to embarrass himself horribly at. Probably more than horribly considering he was actually contemplating playing a game of accuracy with an expert marksman, but it would still be enjoyable at the end of it all.

It hadn't taken much more convincing to get Clint to agree, sans his friends though since they apparently 'needed some alone time' (another joke that Canton just had to laugh and shake his head at), and a handful of drinks in, Canton was grinning across the table at Clint, "So," Canton asked, glancing towards the window and nodded at the snow that was visible outside, "when do you think Santa and his elves are going to show up?" He asked, a hint of amusement on his features. "Because I wouldn't put it past this place."

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likeyourwheels
2012-07-23 08:35 am UTC (link)

Before Canton could even think about trying to stand on his own, he was being hauled to his feet, Clint's grip firm and strength surprising to even someone that knew what he was capable of, and being confronted with a rush of words, words that were laced with a heavy anxiety. It seemed 'not 100%' was a pretty good summary of Clint's condition at the moment, and as Canton listened to the words, his expression softened ever so slightly. Here he had been thinking that he was the one that had screwed up, that he'd asserted himself into Clint's space and made him want to run away, and the man in front of him was apologizing for his reaction, a reaction which by Canton's understanding of things had been minor considering what he was saying was the issue. He'd needed to clear his head, find a place to collect himself away from whatever it was that had possessed the both of them, and that was never something that Clint should feel he had to apologize for.

"Clint. Clint, it's fine," Canton said, settling a hand on the other man's shoulder and squeezing gently. "I'm not upset, and I'm certainly not angry. And you don't have to apologize for needing to get out of there. I don't know what happened, but you're right. Something was making us do that. Not that the temptation isn't there, but I would never put you in that position on my own. Do you want to sit? Whatever it was that did that, it doesn't seem like it's followed us outside," Canton said, figuring it was probably best to give Clint as much time as he needed right now. And if they needed to go someplace else or just go home at the end of it, that would be all right, too.

"And you could say the same thing about yourself," Canton said after a moment, figuring that it wouldn't hurt to joke a bit about the situation. "Not bad at all. Probably would have been better if I hadn't be so focused on not falling over."

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tobeunmade
2012-07-23 11:46 pm UTC (link)

It was fine. Canton said it was fine, but god, it wasn't fine at all. Clint was so tired of feeling broken. He was tired of feeling like his life was some giant minefield, full of these bombs that would just go off when he least expected it and leave him reeling. He was tired of feeling like if he let his guard down even a little, he would fall back into that place where all that mattered was Loki's will. And the worst part was, there was a tiny part of him that missed it, that missed how easy it had been to just let go. Everything had been a mess lately and part of him just wanted to say fuck it and go back to that comfortable mindlessness where everything didn't hurt so damn much. But he knew that was the easy way out, that he'd be giving up himself and all the people he cared about just to escape the pain. It was selfish to even think it, and there was no part of him that truly thought it was worth the cost.

He shook his head to clear out those thoughts. He didn't want to think about Loki or the Tesseract or the days he'd spent as the god's puppet. He didn't want to think about how he was still haunted by that presence in his mind or how he'd just flipped out over the first good kiss he'd had in ages. He took a deep breath but his skin felt too tight and he couldn't shake the restlessness that was fast settling into his bones. He needed to do something. He wasn't sure yet, but he needed to do something. "I can't sit," he said, fidgeting where he stood. He usually kept himself fairly still, the mark of a well-trained sniper, and his inability to do so now spoke novels to how uncomfortable he felt in his own skin.

He was quiet for a long moment, then when he spoke it was abrupt and he wasn't entirely aware of the words until they were out. "Could we...I mean...can I...fuck, I sound like an idiot," he tried to find the right words, "can we do that again? Please? It doesn't have to mean anything. I just...I need it to be something I chose. That doesn't even make any sense. I'm sorry, I just...you don't have to do anything, I don't want you to feel like you do, but I just...I don't want to think about that and have it be...this thing that was forced on me. I don't want to...damn it, I'm screwing this all up. Look...can I kiss you? Please?" He really wanted Canton to say yes, but if he didn't he'd drop it and find another way to deal with the itching under his skin. He wasn't going to assert his own agency by taking away Canton's. Still, he really hoped he said it was okay.

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likeyourwheels
2012-07-24 12:21 am UTC (link)

That wasn't really where Canton had expected this to go. When Clint said that he couldn't sit, Canton had been on the verge of suggesting that they try and walk it off, then, but had been stopped by the words that Clint had started spouting. The confusion was rather clear on Canton's features as Clint continued to speak, something which happened so rarely that it showed just how much that the request had taken him by surprise, but as he turned it over in his head, Canton figured that it made sense. Control was the issue. Clint was so afraid of losing control over himself, of having something else supersede his own agency, that making the choice that is had forced him to make changed the situation. It went from an action taken without his own consent to a choice that he had made for himself, one that he, hopefully, wouldn't regret.

"If it'll help," Canton said, shifting his hand from Clint's shoulder to his cheek, offering him a bit of a smile. "Just breathe, champ. You don't sound like an idiot at all. And if it'll help, you can kiss me anytime you like," He said, the confusion on his features shifting into a wicked grin as he winked at Clint, trying to clear at least a little of the tension in the air. "Anytime."

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tobeunmade
2012-07-24 07:52 pm UTC (link)

"Anytime, huh?" Clint asked with a small teasing smile that he hoped managed to hide his lingering unease at least somewhat. It was sort of refreshing to have someone express a clear interest, though he wasn't sure how much of that was genuine and how much was exaggerated to ease his anxiety. Oddly enough, Canton's touch helped. Normally, Clint avoided physical contact as much as possible, keeping his distance to maintain his objectivity. There were a few exceptions, mainly Natasha, but on the whole he didn't really touch people. Somewhere along the way though, he had genuinely begun to trust Canton. It was confusing, but he liked having someone outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. who he could rely on. He hadn't had that in a long time, if he ever had, and it was something he thought he might be able to get used to.

He'd been so sure about this right up until Canton gave him permission, and then he was frozen, feeling like a teenager kissing someone for the first time. What if he was wrong, what if they were both wrong, and this messed things up? He wasn't sure he could handle losing Canton's friendship. He took a breath, steeling himself, and gave himself a mental slap upside the head. He was a goddamn government agent. He was not going to be intimidated about this.

Stepping closer into Canton's space, he rested his hand on the back of the other man's neck and pulled him down to meet his lips. Where the other kiss had been intense and consuming, this one was careful and questioning. Clint kept it slow, not wanting to rush things, hoping that he was at least making it good for Canton. After all, the guy was doing him one hell of a favor, letting him kiss him like this.

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likeyourwheels
2012-07-25 05:00 am UTC (link)

Clint had said that he didn't have to do anything, but that seemed unfair. It took two people to kiss properly, after all, and if one individual just stood there and didn't react, it just ruined the whole thing. So while Clint's kiss seemed to phrase a question, Canton endeavored to provide him with an answer. While a response at all might have been enough, Canton wanted to make sure that Clint didn't walk away from this situation feeling awkward or unsettled. With the kiss was equally as careful as Clint's, there was a quiet encouragement underlying it all, a reassurance that when they walked away from this, nothing was going to go weird between them. And while he could have let it go at that, a perfunctory action just to solve a problem, to Canton, that seemed like such a waste.

Shifting his hand slowly back off Clint's cheek, cradling the back of the other man's neck, Canton started to added some of the intensity that had been in the first kiss, the forced one, into this exchange. It wasn't nearly as passionate or abandoned as it had been when his hand had been forced, motivated by urges not entirely his own, but it wasn't tentative or cautious anymore either. There was no sense in leaving this in the realm of ill experienced school boys when they were both obviously capable of more.

Not to say that Canton expected this to be anything more than a friendly tousle between two friends, but they might as well make a decent memory while they were at it.

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tobeunmade
2012-08-06 06:08 am UTC (link)

Clint didn't let people close, not easily and not often. His personal life was a non-existent thing and his only friends for the longest time had been Nat and Phil. He had the other Avengers now, and he'd made some connections in the city, but he still held himself apart. He got along well enough with people - he thought back to the crappy apartment he kept for when he needed to get away from S.H.I.E.L.D., with the neighbors who had no idea what he did but who liked him well enough and the Russian landlord who was more of a slumlord than anything and the way he felt so at ease on nights when the tenants all gathered on the roof to forget their worries - but he didn't let anyone within arms length. It was dangerous, letting himself be vulnerable to anyone, and it wasn't a kind of danger he was particularly interested in. Better to be alone and safe than to let someone close enough to break him.

But this was different. The kiss was easy and reassuring and good in a way Clint hadn't felt in too long. The slow build kept him from getting overwhelmed and the fact that it was Canton, someone he could almost see himself trusting, made something come loose inside of him. Like he could finally breathe, even if breathing was the last thing he wanted to do with the other man's mouth a warm pressure against his own. The caution fell away and Clint pressed closer without even thinking about it. He didn't want to think about anything beyond how good it felt. His mind erased the other kiss and put this one in it's place, allowing him to let go of the last vestiges of panic.

Groaning against Canton's mouth, he pushed him back against the wall they'd been standing next to, his hands resting against the other man's chest as he pressed against him and deepened the kiss further. The least he could do was make it good. If nothing else, he wanted something nice to remember once this was over and things went back to how they had been.

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likeyourwheels
2012-08-06 07:28 am UTC (link)

Well, now. That was a little more of a response than Canton had been expecting. It wasn't that it didn't make sense in Canton's head. As wary as Clint was about contact, it would have taken someone blind, deaf, dumb, and possibly even comatose to not realize that Clint was starved for affection. Whether it was just an extension of that wariness, a matter of not having the opportunities that one might without being a super secret agent that had to constantly watch his back, or the greater issue of him feeling that he didn't deserve it, an idea which Canton had every mind to refute at whatever chance he got, Clint didn't seem to have that many people willing or able to dote on him in the way that he seemed to need. He had Tasha, of course, and he had Coulson back since this place had decided to revive him from the dead, but Canton barely knew either of them in more than a passing sense so it went without saying that Canton's ability to trust them to do what needed to be done was lacking.

After all, what needed to be done in this moment seemed to be to try and make up for an extended lack of physical and emotional contact in one kiss.

So while most might have been breaking away, trying to put some distance in the moment to make sure that Clint didn't end up in over his head (so that both of them didn't end up in over their heads), Canton pressed forward, trusting that Clint would stop him once the line had been reached that he couldn't cross.

Slipping the hand that had been resting on the back of Clint's neck up and through his hair, Canton raised the other to cover one of the hands pressed against his chest, holding it there for a moment before his fingers curled lightly around Clint's. Both actions were relatively unnecessary and had little bearing on the impact of the kiss, but for Canton, they seemed a perfectly natural step to take. What was a kiss without a full body connection?

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tobeunmade
2012-08-07 02:06 am UTC (link)

If Clint had known what Canton was thinking, he probably would have punched him for being so stupid. Not overly hard, but still. This wasn't about filling up some kind of affection deficit, at least not entirely. Sure it might have been a tiny part of it, because of course Clint wanted to feel connected to someone, but mostly it was just that it felt good and he was all about embracing things that made him feel good. Yes, it was a little odd that it was a man, but he'd always been pretty self-aware when it came to the fact that he didn't like any particular type of person so much as he liked specific individuals. He liked competence. He liked intelligence. He liked wit and dry humor and someone who would call him on his bullshit. None of that was specific to one gender or the other, and Canton had all those things in spades.

Which wasn't to say he thought this kiss meant anything. They were friends and Canton was just helping him out, giving him a way to work past the mess inside his head. So it didn't mean anything, and he certainly didn't expect anything beyond this moment, but he could at least enjoy it while it was happening. Nobody could blame him for that. Reality would eventually reassert itself, but for the moment it could wait. He saw no reason to go back to it quite yet. He'd always thought reality was a little stupid.

Some people would say that he wasn't being fair to Canton, pushing this as far as he was and taking advantage of how open the other man had been about his sexuality, but he knew that, for all that he occasionally flirted, Canton wasn't really interested in him. A person would have to be crazy to actually want someone with as much baggage as he had, and Canton wasn't crazy. Besides, he didn't doubt that Canton would stop him if this became uncomfortable for him. They worked as well as they did because he always spoke his mind and Clint saw no reason why this would be different.

He was really considering asking Canton if they could just start including kissing as part of their friendship though. Canton was criminally good at it, and he felt a dizzy sort of satisfaction from the way they fit together. Or maybe it was just that he really needed to take a breath. But he didn't even want to acknowledge the possibility because he didn't want to stop. He knew it was ridiculous and they would have to stop sooner or later, but he could at least pretend that they could stay like this forever, as impractical as it was. Like he said, reality was stupid.

He was thinking that maybe he was letting things get a little out of hand, scraping his teeth over Canton's bottom lip as he slipped a leg between the other man's, when a woman's voice interrupted them. "Not that this little double act y'all have got going on isn't hot as a goddamn sun and all," she said, "but you're scaring off my customers, so I'm gonna need you boys to take it somewhere else, before I turn a hose on you."

Clint pulled away from Canton reluctantly, shooting a glance at the girl in question. He recognized her as the girl Bucky was apparently chasing after, and he couldn't exactly say he blamed the guy. She had spunk, that was for sure. "Right," he said, still a little dazed and unsteady from the kiss. "We'll just...uh...go somewhere else." He couldn't even find it in himself to be embarrassed as the girl laughed and shooed them off with a "You do that." Instead he grabbed hold of Canton's hand without thinking about it and started heading back toward the apartments.

"That was..." he paused to think of an appropriate word. "That was something."

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likeyourwheels
2012-08-10 02:49 am UTC (link)

When reality did assert itself in the form of the younger Harvelle daughter, Canton had been on the verge of having to decide whether or not to allow things to run their course or stop Clint from making what would likely be classified as a horrible mistake in the other man's mind. Not that Canton minded the direction that things had been heading, the drunk heady feeling of a kiss slowly blossoming into something else making it obvious that things would have eventually tumbled over an edge had Jude not interfered, but he wasn't entirely certain that Clint would have been all right with that. But as he was snagged by the hand and pulled away from the building, his brain only half in gear, his mind was rocketing through the other main thought that had captured his mind at the moment: the boyfriend that he'd left behind.

Guilt was something that most people would expect lingering in Canton's existence with a situation like this, thoughts of a betrayal that he was perpetrating, but it was far more complicated for Canton because of his existence in this place because while he was a man in a deep, committed relationship, he had also begun to come to terms with the fact that as long as he was here, he wasn't going to see his boyfriend again.

There was little to no reason for Asaph to want to bring him to this place, no oddity in his existence which would have made him a desired collectible, and Canton couldn't think of any reason that the god would feel that he needed to do him any favors. And they had made a promise to each other a long time ago when the fear and uncertainty of whether or not either of they were going to live through a day that if either of them ended up in a position where they weren't going to be with the other that they wouldn't restrict themselves to being alone forever after that.

Not that this was anything close to a relationship. Not even close nor did Canton see it having any potential of going there. He had learned years before to limit those that he could see as relationship potential. Too many unrequited crushes and broken hearts over friends when he was younger had taught him to not get attached, to limit the ways that he thought about people who didn't make it obvious they were interested in the same way, and as open and accepting as Clint was compared to the people that he had known during his whole life, Canton knew that those limits still applied. Clint seemed already worried enough that things would end up going awkward between them that Canton didn't feel any need to add to those worries.

Glancing down at their clasped hands several long seconds after they had started walking, looking back up at Clint's last statement, Canton smiled slowly as he shook out his head with a laugh, "It definitely was. It also goes to prove that we don't need any outside encouragement to get carried away."

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tobeunmade
2012-08-12 07:29 am UTC (link)

It took Clint a long moment to really come back to himself, still bowled over by the kiss and how good it had felt. Because it had been good. Really good. And that meant a lot coming from Clint, who didn't bother with things like kissing and touching and all those casual little displays of affection that people took for granted. Clint saw better from a distance, kept himself at a distance because of that, and clung to his objectivity like it was the only thing keeping him going. But that objectivity was dissolving under his feet where Canton was concerned, and that happened so rarely that Clint wasn't sure what to do with it. With Natasha, with the Avengers, even with Phil, it had happened slowly, slotting into place with time and effort. With Canton, it hit him suddenly and shockingly and he didn't even know how to process it.

This was dangerous, this feeling. Clint knew that. His whole focus was centered on Canton's hand in his, on the electric shock of the touch, and it was embarrassing how entirely the simple contact preoccupied him. Jesus Christ! Sex didn't even hit him like this, and his stomach was twisting itself in knots over some goddamn hand-holding. Like he was some sort of idiot schoolgirl with a crush. What the hell was wrong with him? He was half-tempted to jerk his hand from Canton's and run away, save for the fact that he loathed to give up the contact. And there was also the fact that, if he did do that, he'd look like an idiot or a crazy person or maybe both.

He bit his lip as he listened to Canton, not really thinking about the way the action called attention to just how bruised his mouth was from kissing, then ran his tongue lightly over the abused flesh in an unconscious action. There were things he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure how to say them, and staring at Canton, he mostly just wanted to kiss him again, but he wasn't sure if that was allowed. He'd let himself get too close and he'd lost his distance and now he couldn't find where the lines were any more and it was confusing and intimidating and he just wanted things to be easy.

He'd never understood the stupid arbitrary lines that existed in relationships. What was wrong with wanting to press his mouth against his friend's and breathe him in and bite his way inside and just feel his skin under his hands and never let him go? Why did that have to change things? Because it wasn't so much that he was afraid of this desire to do unspeakable things to the man next to him. He was afraid of how it would inevitably change things. Because friendship was one thing, but opening himself up to anything else, anything more, was terrifying. Because one day Canton really would see the depths of how damaged he was and it would be too much, and if he let himself feel then he wasn't sure he could take the rejection later on. He'd never been good at letting go.

But there was a part of him that wanted, a part of him that was normally quiet and still. And he wondered if it would be so bad to listen to that. Steeling himself, picking at the pieces and putting himself back together into something resembling a functional person, he gave Canton an easy grin that was anything but. "We could do that again," he suggested, forcing the words to be casual. Not to show how much he wanted. "Get carried away. How about it?"

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likeyourwheels
2012-08-12 07:52 am UTC (link)

It was an easy laugh that passed Canton's lips before he'd even given much thought to Clint's words. "Careful, champ," Canton replied with a wicked grin. "You make too many offers like that, and I just might have to hold you to them. And then, who knows where you'll end up? Well, other than as obvious City Hall gossip fodder."

With a wink and a grin, it took Canton a moment to realize that Clint still hadn't dropped his hand. Huh. That was a little odd, but nothing too unusual to consider. They were both probably a little addled after getting called out for practically performing softcore porn against the side of a building. Canton definitely knew he was still getting his bearings, but Clint seemed more than aware to make jokes about the situation, so maybe he was still holding his hand for a reason. Either way, with someone who had taken so long to get used to being touched, to being all right with being touched, Canton didn't particularly want to pull away if Clint still needed the contact.

"You know, we never did get that next drink," Canton said after a moment with a smile and a shake of his head. Glancing back up at their path, he realized that they had somehow started heading towards the apartments, so he figured that the offer likely wouldn't seem as awkward and potentially date rapey as it might have had they been heading in any other direction. "I'm pretty sure I've got a bottle back at my place, if you want to wrap this up properly rather than just leaving the evening hanging in the air." He had promised a decent evening out, after all. The least he could do was try and make up for it being cut short by evil balls of mistletoe.

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tobeunmade
2012-08-12 08:19 am UTC (link)

Oh. Right. He'd misread. Or misunderstood. He'd let himself get too close and it had warped the image until he'd missed what was right in front of him. For all his flirting, Canton didn't want him. He was a friend, and that was fine. It was more than fine. But he was a friend and that was all he was and somewhere along the line he'd forgotten. He did that, sometimes. Misunderstood the way things between people worked. He misread things like boundaries and divisions and the way things added up, the way people added up. It wasn't Canton's fault that he'd let himself get confused. He hadn't meant to, but it had happened, and now he just had to salvage the situation.

The sharp spike of disappointment drove deep, but Clint was a covert operative and he was nothing if not very good at what he did. So he buried the hurt at the idea that his feelings could be so easily dismissed and forced a laugh. "Right," he said. "Wouldn't want that. They're vultures when it comes to gossip." He let go of Canton's hand, careful not to draw attention to the action or to make it seem like a response to what he had said. He didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. After all, it wasn't like his friend had shut him out of his life. He'd just turned him down. He had every right to do that. Clint was the one who had read to much into things.

"It's getting late," he said, brushing off the offer of another drink. All he really wanted was to go back to his place and lick his wounds in peace. But he couldn't say that, so instead he just buried it all under words. If you said enough, he'd learned long ago, people didn't look too closely. "And if I drink now, I'll probably have a hangover in the morning. And Phil would magically know and frown me to death and then you'd have to make friends with someone who has standards. And then where would we be?" He gave a flippant grin, hoping it did enough to mask the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. "Anyway, I should go ahead and head on back to my place. We'll do drinks again soon though."

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likeyourwheels
2012-08-13 01:12 am UTC (link)

There was...something, something that Canton felt like he was missing. There wasn't anything direct either in Clint's words or behavior that pointed to something being off, but there was a feeling that Canton got at Clint pulled away that there was something that he'd missed, that had went right over his head and flew off to never be seen again. Canton looked sidelong as Clint for a moment before shaking off the feeling and offering him a grin in return as he reached up and gave Clint's shoulder a squeeze, "All right, champ. The last thing we want to do is make Coulson frown at you. I've no experience with it, but I can imagine that it's not really the most fun to see first thing in the morning," He said, leaving his hand on Clint's shoulder as his smile deepened. "And we can always try something other than drinks. I'm sure there are plenty of other activities not likely to potentially end with you feeling like I'm liquoring you up just to take advantage."

Following up the statement with a wink, Canton shoved Clint playfully before pivoting on his heel and then backed away from his friend, taking careful steps backwards but still towards the apartments as he addressed his friend, "You head on back to your place and get some rest. Hopefully we can avoid your untimely death, and I won't have to go looking for another friend. It's really exhausting trying to find someone that meets my standards."

And Canton was positive that even if he tried, there would be absolutely no finding anyone that came even close to Clint in the terms of, well, anything. Canton had always been rather selective about the people that he got close to, those that he considered to be worthy of his attention, and while there were plenty of people here that he respected, the list of individuals that he felt were actually worth putting the extra effort into to get to know beyond a passing level was still remarkably short. Somehow, Clint had managed to skyrocket to the top of it in such a short amount of time that Canton still wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but he wasn't complaining. He'd had friends before, sure, but there had almost always been some sort of caveat there to keep him from being fully and wholly himself. That wasn't the case with Clint, and he would probably never be able to say how thankful he really was for that.

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