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The First Night

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Arrow has flopped down on the dog bed tucked in the corner of the living room and seems content to stay there, gnawing on his chew toy. Phil catches Clint’s eye and inclines his head towards the bedroom with a long, intent look. Clint feels a thrill down his spine that goes right to his groin and all but drags Phil from the living room, hands wandering under Phil’s shirt as he drops open mouthed kisses along the older man’s neck.

Phil nudges the door shut as he loses his shirt and starts to work on Clint’s pants. Clint raises an eyebrow at him and Phil raises his own right back.

“You know he can still hear us, right?” Clint says, shucking his jeans and pushing Phil back on the bed. He straddles Phil’s hips and captures his mouth in a searing kiss, his boxers tenting over his cock.

“Principle of the thing,” Phil replies, gasping for breath when Clint pulls back long enough to strip off his shirt. “Don’t want to traumatize him.”

Clint laughs and palms Phil’s erection through his slacks. “You’re adorable,” he says with a leer as Phil gasps and jerks his hips up into his touch.

“And you’re smitten,” Phil retorts. He hooks a leg over Clint’s back and rolls them, pinning Clint’s wrists to the bed. He grinds their cloth covered erections together, and nips at Clint’s exposed throat when the younger man throws his head back. He jerks up into the delicious friction with a sharp moan. Phil presses against him, their chests flush together and licks into Clint’s mouth.

A sharp whine and scratch of claws against the bedroom door makes them freeze. Phil pulls back with a groan and presses his forehead against Clint’s. “We’re about to get cockblocked by your dog, aren’t we?” he grumbles.

Another whine and more scratching. Clint lets out a sigh that is equal parts fond and annoyed. He  pecks Phil on the nose shoves at his shoulder. “Better let him in before he ruins the door.”

The agent huffs and clambers off the bed. “Only because it’s his first night,” he states. “After this he sleeps on the doggy bed. That’s why we got it.”

“Yes, dear.” Clint shifts up on the bed to lean against the headboard staring at Phil with wide-eyed innocence that fools exactly no one.

Phil shoots Clint an unamused look and opens the door. Arrow slips inside with his ears laid back and tension in his limping steps. He looks from Phil to Clint and his tail gives a slow, tentative wag.

“Just for tonight,” Phil tells him, his voice stern. Arrow’s tail wags faster and his tongue lolls out of his mouth in a doggy grin.

“Come here, boy,” Clint calls, patting the spot at the foot of the mattress. Arrow jumps up onto the bed and makes himself comfortable on Clint’s lap instead. Clint grins, flinching just a little at the harsh scrape of paws on his bare skin before the dog settles. “You’re a little big for that, pup,” he says fondly, scratching Arrow under the chin. The dog’s eyes drift shut and he goes boneless in ecstacy.

Phil shakes his head and heads for the bathroom. “Smitten,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

Clint waits until the door has closed behind him before telling Arrow: “Give it a day, sweetie. You’ll have him whipped in no time. He’s a big ol’ marshmallow.”

Arrow’s only response is to bury his face in Clint’s stomach. Clint starts petting his neck and behind his ears, reclining against the headboard as he waits for Phil to return.

Phil comes back to the bedroom in his pajama pants with his face red from scrubbing and teeth freshly brushed. He pauses in the door, staring at the pile of dog and archer on the bed and smiles. Clint looks up in time to see it and feels a blush creep over his cheeks. It always throws him off balance to see that smile. It’s soft and adoring and completely at odds with Phil’s usual bland expression of professional calm. It’s beautiful and for Clint’s eyes only.

“I think I’m going to start carrying a camera from now on,” Phil muses, his smile turns teasing as he slides under the covers at Clint’s side, laying on his back with one arm under his head. Arrow raises his head to look at him and wags his tail. Obliging, Phil scratches his ears. Arrow flops down again and lets out a groan of protest when Clint slides out from under him to use the bathroom. Arrow huffs and turns to drop his head onto Phil’s stomach.

Clint smirks over his shoulder at the scene. “Just remember that turnabout is fairplay.”

“Yes, dear.”