saone | Fic: The Not So New Adventures of the Old Phil Coulson

Title: The Not So New Adventures of the Old Phil Coulson - Part 2
Author:

saone77
Pairing: Clint/Richard (Coulson)
Fandoms: The Avengers (movie 'verse) & The New Adventures of Old Christine
Summary: Can true love stand up to the test of an insane extended family?
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Major plot points for the movie
Warnings: Not betad, grammarians beware. Some mentions of homophobia.
Word Count: 2298
Disclaimer: This is indulgent, cracktastic fiction.
Notes: So, I watched more TNAoOC and I just couldn't help myself, I had to revisit Clint and Richard. This installment is pretty much angst-free, but it's very heavy on the crack.

Part 1

"Oh. My. God!"

Christine's voice cuts through Richard's brief moment of contentment. He closes his eyes and rests his head against Clint's shoulder. Clint's broad shoulder. Clint's very broad... What was he-

"Richard?!"

Oh, right. Christine.

"Gird your loins," Richard whispers in Clint's ear as he raises his head. Clint shudders.

"So you're gay now?" Christine asks loudly, despite Matthew's attempts to shush her. "When the hell did you go gay?" She gasps and puts a hand up to her chest. "Did I turn you gay? No. Wait. Did New Christine turn you gay? New Christine totally turned you gay, didn't she?"

"Christine," Mathew says, "sexuality doesn't work that way. But, if it did, he would have definitely turned gay after you. Definitely."

Richard sighs and starts to, unfortunately, untangle himself from Clint, when he spies a lone figure standing just behind Matthew and Christine. "Richie?"

Christine and Matthew both spin around.

"Richie, honey, why did you leave the game?" Christine asks.

Richie doesn't respond. He doesn't even blink. He just stares at Richard and Clint. This is probably not good.

"Richie?" Christine tries again. "Richie?" She snaps her fingers in front of his face. "Richie?!"

There's still no response.

Richard winces and takes a few steps forward. "Maybe we should-"

"Maybe you should shut up!" Christine says. "Do you see what you've done? Do you?! Your stupid, big, gay kiss has broken our only child."

Richard rolls his eyes. "Christine, he's not-"

"Richie," Christine coos, "talk to me, baby. Please."

Richie cocks his curly head to one side. He raises one arm and points at a startled Clint.

"CAW!"

Clint blanches and takes a step backwards. Richard, fearing a runner, stumbles towards him and grabs onto his jacket again.

"What the hell?" Christine says.

Matthew's head swivels between Clint and Richie.

"Caw," Richie says again. "Caw, CAW!"

"Dear lord," Clint mutters, "he's one of them."

"One of who?" Richard asks, a multitude of horrific possibilities already running through his mind.

"He's a Hawkhead," Clint says, swallowing heavily. "It's this thing. This internet thing. I don't know, Darcy tried explaining it to me, but I got lost after the first few sentences. She said something about means, and gifts, and tumblers, and..." Clint looks horribly lost. "Phil, I have fans."

Richard can't help but grin, both at Clint looking adorably flustered and at his son's obvious good taste. "Wait," he says. "Why 'caw'? You're not called Croweye."

"I don't know!" Clint says again. "See, that's why we need you back. Sitwell's okay, but you would have nipped all that social media crap right in the bud. You just, you don't know, Phil." Clint's wringing his hands together. "Some of the things I've seen... The things people do to my action figures. The things people make Steve's action figure do to my action figure. And don't get me started on Nat's. It's wrong, Phil It's just wrong."

"What the hell is going on here?!" Christine says, her voice getting perilously close to shrieking territory. "What's wrong with Richie? And why is he calling you Phil? And why would he have an action figure? And why is... Matthew?"

Matthew's wide eyes are fixed on Clint. "Caw," he says softly.

Clint lets out a little strangled noise and deftly positions himself behind Richard.

Richard can't help but feel a little proud that Clint wants his protection - or to use him as a human shield, whatever. "Okay," he says, "I didn't plan on doing this in a public park, but, what the hell. Christine, Matthew, Richie, I've been leading a double life."

"Holy crap!" Christine says. "Were you cruising men while we were married?!" She stares off into the distance. "We could have had a threesome."

"You really married her?" Clint asks, his mouth close to Richard's ear.

"I was young. Shut up." Richard shakes his head and resists the urge to jangle his keys to get Christine's attention. "I didn't mean that kind of a double life," he says. "I mean that I'm not really a contractor."

"Oh, thank God, because you were a crappy contractor!"

"Christine!"

"What?"

"I was a damn good contractor."

"You just said you weren't a contractor."

"I was a damn good pretend contractor."

"Oh, please-"

"Guys!" Matthew says loudly. "Can you two not, right now?"

"I'll second that," Clint says.

"Caw," Richie says, nodding.

"Richard, just tell us how the hell you know Hawkeye," Matthew says.

"Hawkeye? I thought his name was Aaron." Christine grimaces. "So, were your parents hippies or M.A.S.H. fans?"

"You know," Clint says, "you guys obviously have stuff you need to talk about, and I would probably just get in the way, so I'm just gonna go somewhere that's not here."

Before Richard has a chance to grab onto Clint's jacket once again, or fall to his knees and beg the younger man to ignore the crazy and stay with him anyway, a blur rushes past him.

Clint lets out a grunt as Richie latches onto his torso like a curly-headed barnacle. He rests his chin on Clint's sternum and looks up at him. "You kissed my dad."

Clint, holding his arms out away from his body, looks down at Richie in something close to, but not quite, horror. "Uh. Yeah."

Richie sighs happily. "Can I call you papa?"

Clint looks vaguely nauseous.

"Richie," Richard says, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "We haven't even been on our first date yet." He pulls at Richie, trying to get him to disengage. "Why don't you wait until... Wow, you're really on there, aren't you?"

"Phil," Clint says softly. "Help."

Richie sighs, closes his eyes, and snuggles in closer. "My very own Avenger," he murmurs.

After another couple of tugs at Richie's shoulders, Richard stands back and surveys the situation. "He'll get hungry or bored eventually," he says to Clint. "You'll be fine."

"Phil!"

"I am so confused," Christine says.

"How come Richie gets to hug the Avenger?!" Matthew asks, stomping his foot. "I want to hug the Avenger."

"Nobody else is hugging the Avenger." Clint says firmly.

Richard clears his throat.

"Except maybe you," Clint says. "Maybe. I'm re-evaluating the whole unrequited love thing." Clint wheezes and places a hand on Richie's head. "I'm joking," he says. "I still love your dad. Ease up on the ribs, okay, kid?"

Richard beams. Clint loves him. And Richie seems to have finally developed upper body strength. This day is just full of good things.

"If I can't hug you, can I smell your hair?" Matthew asks.

"Can you.. No!"

"The only one who's going to be smelling Clint's hair or hugging him, after we pry Richie off, is me," Richard says in his best authoritative voice, and, after years as Phil Coulson, Richard has a pretty awesome authoritative voice.

"I thought his name is Hawkeye?" Christine says. "Seriously, guys, I'm really confused."

"Confused?" Clint says. "You people are nuts."

"I've been saying that for years," Barb says, walking up to their little group. She's weighed down like a pack mule with two lawn chairs under each arm, a cooler in each hand, and Christine's purse around her neck. She drops everything with a grunt, and then she shakes out her arms and shoulders.

"The next time you dumbasses run off and leave your stuff behind," Barb says, "I'm taking what I want first, then leaving the rest for the other soccer parents to scavenge over, got it?" She cracks her neck. "Now, will someone tell me why Richie is molesting a superhero?"

Christine gasps. "Hawkeye's a... Oh. Ohhhhhh. He's that Hawkeye. Okay, I've got it now." She grins at Clint. "You're totally Richie's favorite."

Clint stares at her. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed."

Christine turns her attention to Richard. "Wait, why were you molesting a superhero? How do you even know a superhero?"

Richard sighs. Some days he really missed dealing with terrorists, and aliens, and egomaniacal billionaires.

"I used to work for a secret government agency," he says. "I was Clint's handler."

Christine snorts. Matthew giggles. Barb rolls her eyes.

"Oh, for... Not that kind of handler," Richard says. "We worked together. We kept people safe. We fought bad guys, and saved the world. But during the invasion in Manhattan I was... I was hurt, and-"

"Wait," Matthew says, "that gaping chest wound you had wasn't caused by an unfortunate forklift accident at Home Depot?"

"No," Richard says. "It wasn't."

Christine frowns. "That probably explains why the lawsuit I tried to file went nowhere."

"After I was hurt," Richard says, "I was forcibly retired and sent back here to live here full time."

"What, as some kind of punishment?" Matthew asks.

"I've often wondered," Richard says. "Anyway, Clint found me, and we're both hot for each other, so we're going to try and make a go of it." Richard glances over his shoulder. "Right?"

"Uh, sure. Okay. Why the hell not?" Clint says with a shrug.

"Papa," Richie says happily.

"Seriously, Phil, get him off me."

Richard clears his throat and mentally dusts off his inner Coulson. "Richie, let go of the nice Avenger. Now."

Richie gives Clint one last squeeze, then reluctantly steps away. Clint rubs at his abdomen, then tentatively reaches out and pats Richie on the head.

"Good. Boy." Clint grimaces.

Richie beams.

"Hey," Clint says, "maybe after your dad and I have gone out a while, and you've learned how to chill, I can teach you some archery stuff, huh?"

"NO!"

Clint takes a few startled steps backward as the in unison, terror-tinged shout from Richard, Christine, Matthew, and Barb hits him.

Richard smiles nervously and puts a hand high on Clint's shoulder, leading him back to the group again. "Richie's not very good with things that require depth perception. Or things that are pointy. Or things."

"Oh," Clint says. "Okay."

Richard can tell Clint's feeling unsettled by all the insanity he's surrounded by. "Hey," he says, cupping Clint's cheek, "I know all of this seems weird and strange, and you're probably kind of freaked out right now-"

"Kind of?" Clint says with a weak little chuckle.

"Stick with me," Richard says. He reaches up and lets his other hand rest on Clint's neck, his fingers just barely brushing against the thick hair behind Clint's ear. "I know this isn't - I'm - not what you were expecting. And, while I may not be 100% Phil Coulson, I can promise that my feelings towards you transcend any identity I might put on."

Clint's mouth twists into his signature crooked grin. "That was a pretty Phil thing to say."

"I have my moments." Richard leans in, caught by the colors in Clint's eyes, then by the lashes that flutter over them as Clint tilts his head ever so slightly. Richard sees that as the invitation it so clearly is, and he moves in, only to be stopped by a loud, gagging noise.

"Richie!" Richard says.

"It wasn't me," Richie says. He points at Christine. "It was her."

"Christine!"

"What?" Christine says. "Like I'm just gonna stand here and watch you make out with your young, stupidly hot, new boyfriend. Please."

"For the record," Barb says, "I was totally okay with it."

"I felt conflicted," Matthew says. "Because, you know, Hawkeye, wow! But, Richard, ewww."

"Thank you all for sharing," Richard says. "I appreciate it."

Christine waves him off. "Whatever, buddy-boy, you owe me waaaay more of an explanation. I want more than oh, I used to work for a secret government agency." Christine pauses for a moment. "I also want pie. Or, no, wait... Waffles!"

"IHOP?" Matthew asks.

"Perfect!" Christine points at Clint. "If anyone asks, it's your birthday. Let's go!"

Richard watches as Christine stalks off across the park towards the parking lot.

"Why is it my birthday?" Clint asks.

"Free food."

Clint looks at Richard, then to Christine, then back to Richard. He raises an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"I was young. Shut up."

Clint grins.

Richard knows that things aren't going to be smooth sailing - he's going to have to deal with Fury, and he's sure the WSC will probably rear their heads at some point - but right now, all he can see are the crinkles Clint gets around his eyes when he's really happy.

And all he can hear is Christine leaning on the horn in her car.

"Dammit," Richard mutters.

Clint wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close. "You were young, huh?

"So very, very young," Richard says. "And kind of stupid. Also, shut up."

Clint laughs, then - disregarding Richie and Matthew's googly eyes, and Barb getting out her camera phone, and Christine's car horn bleating in the distance - leans in to brush his lips against Richard's.

"Yes, sir." Clint says softly.

"God, I can't wait to get you into bed," Richard says.

"Easy, tiger," Clint says, putting one hand against Richard's chest - the right side - and lightly pushing at him. "Waffles first. It's my birthday." He winks and goes to help Matthew and Richie with the lawn chairs and coolers.

"Well," Barb says, sidling up next to Richard, "you're not young, but I still think you're kind of stupid."

"Thanks, Barb."

"Then again," she adds as Clint bends over to pick up one of the chairs, "an ass like that would make anyone lose IQ points."

Clint straightens up and Richard blinks a few times. "Huh?"

Barb smiles wanly. "Never mind. You helped save the world, huh?"

"More or less," Richard says.

"That's utterly terrifying."

"You don't know the half of it," Richard says. "So, waffles?"

"Yeah. Waffles."

_____________

And they ate waffles, and some other stuff happened, and then they went on to form the West Coast Avengers and live happily ever after.