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“Clint, I need to talk to you in my office. Now.”
The blond boy looked up from the corridor floor. He stared ahead at his care worker, his heart pounding for a moment in his chest knowing exactly what was going to be said in that room. He nodded his head to Phil Coulson, his newest care worker before he dumped his school bag in the corridor and walked in after him.
The office space was small but he could see that Phil had made it homely for him. He and much of the other kids wondered if Phil actually went home. If he had one to go to even. The man never left always here and it made more sense seeing a sofa pressed up against the wall adjacent to his desk. Clint shuffled himself over to the chair opposite the neat desk.
“I imagine you know why you are in here?”
Clint looked up at him and shrugged his shoulders. He hated it when the care workers said that to him. He could take a thousand guesses and end up being in here for the rest of the day sorting out every problem he had.
“Not exactly.”
“Report card came through today.” If he had the balls to stand up to Phil, Clint would have happily stood up and walked out right now. But Phil was different to the other care workers. To start with, he was a lot younger than most, he seemed to be more understanding and noticed Clint. For most of his life, the care workers never cared about him. He was deemed unsuitable by most workers for adoptions and quite frankly, swept under the carpet. Phil acknowledged him at least. “It’s better than your last one.”
“I want to graduate.”
Clint gave a small shrug of his shoulders and watched Phil nod his head.
“That's good that you do. I don’t know whether it hasn’t been noted ever or no one cared enough, but Clint your speech is getting worse.”
“It’s just a lisp.”
He snapped back at the older man and shook his head. Of course his speech was. Clint knew fully well it was. He could hear it when he spoke, certain words that he constantly avoided saying out loud, words that he didn’t realise he was changing the letters of. He could tell when he was going to struggle with a sentence but Phil was right, no one ever cared enough.
“Your teachers made the note of that you can’t say Tony Stark correctly?”
“They just don’t listen to me. No one cares, like you said.”
“Say his name for me. Your speaking and listening project is on Stark Industries, how can you pass when you apparently can’t say his name correctly?”
“I can say his name. It’s not a big deal Phil.”
Clint watched the way Phil kept his eyes on him. Clint raised back up to stand before he heard Phil clear his throat and indicate for him to sit down again.
“We’re not done talking here. Sit down Clint.”
“So, you aren’t going to let me leave till I say Tony Starch?”
“Tony Starch, huh?”
“Stark.” Clint emphasised the part of the word he knew he couldn’t say correctly, even if he took his time to think about it. That made it worse. He found himself sitting back down opposite the older man but not looking at him. “I can talk okay.”
“I know you can Clint. The whole world knows you can talk, you just can’t pronounce, there is a difference. I don’t know why it was never sorted, but you should have been given therapy as a child for it since you haven’t grown out of it.”
“You think that first place I was placed in cared that much to help one child with speech problems?”
Clint heard Phil sigh and he finally raised his eyes up to look at the man again. It was strange for him to have a single care worker to well, care. No one ever cared enough to try and get him adopted but now someone cared that he couldn’t talk properly. Phil was different, that was for sure. Clint wondered if he was like this with everyone in here. Giving everyone attention they probably deserved at least once in their life. He wondered if he was going to get tired of it soon enough.
“It’s a shame they didn’t but I want to help you Clint.”
“So I don’t just have a lisp?”
“You just sound like you do. It’s different. You just don’t know how to use your mouth correctly or rather, your tongue. It’s simple.”
“This going to help me get adopted?”
Clint could’t help but joke and let out a laugh that he quickly stopped seeing the way Phil looked at him.
“Funny.”
"But seriously, why does this matter, why now?"
"You should at least have the right be allowed to talk properly. It's not too hard to learn. You just got to learn how to your tongue correctly."
Clint couldn't help but give a small smirk of his lips at that comment. He saw another disapproving look thrown at him at that and straightened up again against the chair.
"I'm serious. That is part of your problem. How about this, if you can say 'shush' I will let you out of here without another mention of this."
The blond nodded his head before he just ended up staring at Phil. Finally making eye contact correctly, looking at him and analysing his face. All while he studied Phil's features, the way his hair was brushed, the slight wrinkles that were appearing around his eyes, the way his lips were always pressed into a line. Then down to the fact that Phil was always in a suit and dressed to sharply. Clint liked seeing a man in a suit but not a care worker. The rest of them all dressed so casually they could have been mistaken for the actual kids.
While this was going on in his head, he was also trying to think of 'shush'. It was so simply, just to imagine him saying to a younger kid to be quiet but in his brain, he couldn't think of how to say it. He didn't know how to move his lips, move his tongue to say it. When he finally opened his mouth to attempt at the word, all that happened was his tongue pressed against his teeth and a pathetic hiss came out instead.
"I don't know how to say it."
Clint felt pathetic admitting that, even worse when Phil nodded his head. He hated the feeling that the man was secretly gloating inside but he gave nothing away on his face. It was just so calm. Clint tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth and found himself shrugging his shoulders and sinking down on the chair, not looking at him.
"I can help you Clint."
"So you a speech therapist as well as a care worker?"
"No, not exactly but I know enough to help with what you most struggle with. It's not going to be perfect but I hope you'll feel more confident with your words at least."
"Thanks."
Clint whispered not being able to find the volume in his voice to say it louder. This attention was new, someone caring enough to help him. Whether or not Phil had done this for a few of the kids in the home or was just doing this job. It was strange to feel like someone did care.
He finally moved to stand again, Phil making his point, Clint agreeing with little words. That was it now, but he could see when he stood up that Phil wanted to say more to him. He saw the way he looked at him and Clint felt his stomach drop for a moment.
"I've gotten word from Barney, when you're ready you can take the letter from me."
"I-" Clint swallowed down his words thinking of his brother. He shook his head. "Okay."
He had never left that room so fast. Shutting the door behind him, he could still feel Phil's eyes on him. The way he looked at him when he said Barney's name. Even Phil pitied him. This whole home pitied him and Barney.
The feeling didn't leave him in his room. The purple walls just surrounded him more than usual and again he was just reminded that he was always inclosed and that he was always going to be trapped in a place like this. Barney had left him, without a second thought. His own flesh and blood, the last member of his family that he knew of. His parents died when he was young and now at eighteen, he could barely remember them and if it wasn't for the photographs that Barney saved he could have completely forgotten about them. He couldn't even remember his mother's voice.
Barney had grown tired of the orphanage after six years. Clint had had plenty of opportunities to get adopted, he was young, blond haired with big blue eyes and he was quiet. He was perfect for a couple who wanted to give a orphan a new home, but Barney had protested that they couldn't be separated. Clint understood but no one wanted to ever adopt brothers. Not one who seemed to always like the idea of causing chaos. One night, Barney had told Clint he was going to run away to the circus. He had spoken to someone there and him and Clint could join them. It was too much of a child's fantasy. He was older now but that didn't stop the hope of an adoption, not for him. So that night, Barney ran away to the circus and Clint was left behind. Barney wasn't there to ruin anything now.
Yet, he didn't get adopted. He was too old for some couples, too small in size for others. His grades weren't good enough and he wasn't good at academics for some. He just couldn't be perfect anymore. Not without being a little kid again. Clint saw plenty of young boys get adopted within weeks of them coming in to the orphanage.
He had foster homes however. Two months to six months at a time. The fostering was temporary, always. He was always sent to a different home when his stay was up. New care workers, new kids to deal with. All this time, no one ever cared that Clint couldn't speak correctly. He remembered when he asked his first set of foster parents for a film to put on while he was babysitting their biological son. Hercules. It was so easy to say that the five year old could. Fifteen year old Clint however couldn't. Percules. He hadn't noticed anything wrong. That felt right to him. No said anything. No one but Phil.
Phil was different, maybe. Perhaps he was one of the only care workers in the area that realised what their job was. Even if Clint was suppose to be moving out soon now he was eighteen. He was suppose to have a job and a place to live. Suppose to. No one helped him with anything and for now, Clint considered joining the military. It was a structure he was used too, he was fit enough and right now, it seemed the only thing going for him. Maybe he could talk to Phil about it.
*
"That's it." Phil's voice was encouraging, his expression seemed happy, happy for him. "And just let your tongue rest against your teeth like that. And you can now tell people to be quiet."
Clint frowned before he watched the way Phil's mouth moved again. He had studied this man's mouth so strongly for the past hour he felt as if he knew it better than his own. Of course learning to speak correctly after eighteen years of speaking incorrectly was difficult, more difficult than he expected. He didn't like some of the things that Phil had been making him do the past sessions. Clint didn't like having to look at himself in the mirror and watch his mouth move and his tongue. He didn't like the feeling of being a five year again. Yet, he knew it couldn't be helped.
Once he was sure how to move his tongue, he made the movement and finally the sound of a gentle shush came out. Now he felt like a five year old. He leaned back almost in surprise at himself. A new sound, he could finally make a shush sound. He stared back at Phil before he saw the smile spread onto the man's lips. Phil looked proud of him and Clint could feel the heat rise to his cheeks as he looked away from him.
"You're doing really well Clint. This isn't easy at your age. Maybe we should finally work on starch and Stark."
"I just generally struggle with the sound of H anyway."
"You can sound the difference between a C and a K, right?" Clint nodded his head. "Good, then it's just the letters around H, that throw you off?"
"Yeah, that or I just don't know how to say them, like shush." Saying it again for the second time. Clint was more proud that he had remembered how to say it now. Of course it wasn't perfect but it was good enough to work on and practice. "Ark and Arch... Hurt to say." Clint said with a small laugh and shrugged his shoulders.
"You don't struggle with 'st' do you?"
"Not really. More just 'Th' than anything."
"Alright."
Clint leaned back against the sofa that Phil had in his office. The leather sofa was incredibly comfortable and Clint's body had relaxed as soon as he touched it. It helped to make him feel comfortable with this, with Phil. Letting Phil teach him how to talk correctly, how to move his tongue and his lips. He let him get closer to him than most people had in years. He let Phil's fingers gently touch over his jaw and neck, to make sure that it was just articulation not a muscle motor problem. Phil's skin was soft, even his fingertips felt like cotton buds as they moved over his skin.
It might have been the attention that Phil gave him or the fact that someone had suddenly noticed but Clint noticed the flutter in stomach whenever he looked at Phil. Now he didn't just have to look, he had to stare at him, study his lips and watch the way his tongue moved. He had zoned out more than once imagining his lips somewhere else, somewhere he was more desperate to feel them, his lips moving over his chest down towards his hips, then his tongue working wonders-
"Clint? Did you hear me?"
"Huh?"
He prayed to god he didn't have a boner right now.
"Thought so. I said: have you thought any more about the letter from Barney?"
"Barney... No, not really. It kind of just slipped my mind."
He gave a weak shrug of his shoulders finally looking away from Phil again. He leaned forwards his elbows on his knees, he looked down at the carpet. God, the colour green was disgusting.
"If you ever want to talk about it, that's what I'm here for Clint."
"You are different, you know that?"
"Explain?"
Clint's hand moved to his hair, running his fingers through the messy blond mop it always was. He should learn to not say certain things when he didn't actually want to explain it.
"You even said it the other day Phil. No ever cared or noticed me and it was after Barney left. You know how many times I had potential adoptions but Barney ruined them or reminded me that I couldn't leave him because we were brothers. Speech problem or not, you are the first care worker I've ever had that has done this for me. Cared enough to correct something that was wrong with me."
"Nothing is wrong with you, don't talk about it like that. It's always hard for brothers in orphanages especially when one is adoption material and the other, well, I think Barney is infamous in some files. You did the right thing staying where you felt comfortable, where you trusted yourself to be."
“I don’t trust anything in this world, not even myself.”
“You made a big choice then not to follow Barney, just because he was flesh and blood. Who knows where you could be if you had Clint?”
“I miss him sometimes, just that there was someone who was around who loved me. Someone who might have cared about me. You don’t know how long I’ve been without that.”
“I’m sorry you have Clint, it’s not fair.” He was wondering if he was starting to hate the way Phil always tended to say his name or love the way it sounded from his lips. “That’s why-”
“Don’t pity me.”
“I was going to say, that’s why I care about you, Clint. It’s never too late for that sort of thing you know. To let someone in.”
Phil was asking him to trust him? Clint shut his eyes for a moment, a distraction, a chance not to look at the god awful colour of the carpet in this office. Phil cared about him, but he cared about all the kids in here surely. That was his job.
“What are you going to do? You have to move out soon. You should have moved out after your eighteenth. How long ago was that?”
“I don’t know what to do. I'm finally going to graduate this year, I don’t have a job to put a deposit on somewhere and now someone cares.”
“Clint, you can’t think like that.”
“Oh and I can finally add to my CV that I can finally say Tony Starch. Shit. Stark. See!”
He leaned back against the sofa now. His head leaning back so he could look up at the ceiling now. He knew he was going to avoid looking at Phil. He didn’t want to see the look in his eyes. Phil felt sorry for him, he must do. Everyone felt so sorry for poor little Clint Barton, even his brother left him behind.
“Stop it Clint. Don’t do that to yourself. Life isn’t easy, I’m sure you know that better than most. We’re, I’m here to help you. I want to help you.” Clint couldn’t deny himself as he looked back at Phil when he changed we’re to I’m. He didn’t see pity but he saw what Phil meant. The care in his eyes for him. He wanted to just curl into the man now, crinkle his suit up as he laid against his chest and for the first time in his life felt the safety of another human being. “I’ll help you get a job, I’ll help you find a place to rent. I’ll help you because you deserve it.”
“What, because I said shush?”
Clint replied with a playful smile on his lips. He saw the way Phil’s smile reached his eyes, how the colour of them seemed to brighten and a laugh passed through his lips. The sound was beautiful for his ears to hear. He wanted to make Phil laugh more.
*
“Military?” He gave a small nod of his head. “You sure?”
“I don’t know where else to go Phil. Even with your help, it just doesn’t feel right to take that from you.”
One week later, another speech therapy. He hadn’t said Tony Starch now for a week and it felt amazing to not struggle over that anymore. Replacing per with her sounds was proving more difficult for him however. Phil had asked him if he had thought anymore about his future and he decided to be honest with what he considered doing.
“But that doesn’t mean to run away to the army. I mean, you understand you’ll be shipped out within months of your training being complete-”
“I know all that and of course I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about everything. The peace corp even. I just need to get away from this. I need something like this in my life. Routine and so on.”
“Clint, I just- If you’ve thought about it, I’ll support you through everything. I mean that.”
“How can you support me through the army?”
I want to come home to you Phil. Clint thought for a moment before realising it was stupid. A stupid crush from being noticed and cared for. He wanted Phil to say that though. He wanted him to tell him that he would wait for him when he got sent overseas, that he was going to come back to a loving home and a loving relationship within it.
“That there is someone in this world that cares about you and the choices you are making.”
He raised his eyes back to Phil’s face. For a moment the look in his eyes scared him, the emotion he held for him. His heart seemed to feel like it was swelling and his stomach was fluttering. If anything, he also wanted the couch to swallow him up right now and take him away from Phil’s gaze. The emotion in his eyes were a complete contrast to the emotion on his face. Simply, there was none presence. His lips pressed into a thin line as he looked at Clint.
“You are paid to care about me, about all of us.”
“And that’s why I give the whole care home speech therapy? Clint, open your eyes and realise when someone is trying to care for you because they want to be part of your life. I understand trust is hard for you to give, especially like this but open your eyes please. I want to care for you but it’s wrong for me to even feel like this when I am suppose to be your care and social worker. I shouldn’t let emotions get caught up in this.”
“Just tell me, there is a chance that I can come home to you.”
"You will always come home to me. Always.”
*
Clint wasn’t stupid enough to ever push something like a relationship on Phil. Last thing he needed was Phil losing his job because of him. Because they were both stupid with emotions. Clint barely had a month left in the care home before he was suppose to move out, to find somewhere if he wasn’t going to join the military.
Percules had finally become Hercules and Clint had never been prouder of himself for achieving that. There was no slip up of calling Tony Stark, Starch. If he did it was purely a weird habit he needed to kick. Of course, his problem wasn’t completely gone. Some sentences just couldn’t go together for him, he stuttered and stammered a bit more and showed when he was struggling to say something. He felt more comfortable with it. He felt comfortable with Phil.
*
He didn’t tell Phil he had joined the military till the day before he was due to leave for the training base. He had done it on purpose and it had been hard to keep from him. He felt like he had too, he didn’t want Phil to worry about him and maybe try to convince him otherwise. Clint wanted to it. He was going to be useful finally and help save his country. Like Captain America, well in a small way. Phil liked Captain America.
“You’re leaving tomorrow? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
Phil was behind his desk looking up at Clint. The blond stood staring back down at him. A bag of clothes and all his belongings on his shoulder. He was staying in a motel before catching the bus tomorrow to the base tomorrow.
Looking down at Phil’s face, he hated the way his mouth was open the tiniest amount in shock but his eyes seemed to dead to him.
“I didn’t want to worry you Phil. I know you would have fussed, it was easier than this.”
“Where are you going tonight?”
“Staying at a motel before going out.”
“Come home with me tonight.” Clint’s eyes widened in surprise, it wasn’t even a question or request. Phil demanded it, his tone was demanding. “Come home with me and give me one last night with you before you go. You owe me that Clint.”
One last night? They hadn’t even spent a night together, just what they could during the day. Clint found himself nodding his head not breaking eye contact with Phil.
“I will.”
“Thank you.”
“And I want the letter from Barney, please.”
“Of course.”
He watched Phil move to the drawers of his desk and quickly it was pulled out. He looked down at the envelope that was held in front of him. Well it seemed that he couldn’t talk correctly and Barney couldn’t even spell. He spelt the name of the care home wrong to start with.
Clint took the letter with a sigh folding it and placing it into his bag. Tomorrow, he was going to read it and see what Barney wanted. He was ready now for that. If Barney ever wanted to see him again, if he had done something bad. Heck, the letter all along might have been something as stupid as asking for bail money. He had come to terms with that at least.
*
Phil’s apartment was just what he expected. It was Phil all over. The sofas were amazingly comfortable, there was a faint scent of coffee in the air, everything was analy organised and it was so homely for Clint. He couldn’t help himself when he had the compulsion to just touch everything he saw. Phil didn’t mind either.
Their night was too short. Yet finally kissing Phil, it felt like it had lasted an eternity. The man’s lips were just how he always imagined in their speech therapy sessions. They were so soft, especially against his and the rest of his skin. His fingertips as soft as cotton buds had made shivers run down his spine. Phil’s breathing against his skin gave him goosebumps and he never wanted to forget that feeling. He wanted to remember the sounds that Phil made when they both finally came. He hoped Phil would remember the way he made him moan and bite into his neck to stop being so loud. He had never done something that could be considered that amazing before, that self fulfilling. Everything in Clint’s world was going right, it was so perfect.
*
“Tell me again.”
“I will be here for you, always Clint.”
Their foreheads pressed together, their eyes were shut. Clint reached out to take his hand and hold it loosely. His breathing was calm and so was Phil’s. Surreal, that was all Clint could say to describe this moment.
Breathing was becoming harder suddenly, air seemed so stuffy. Opening his eyes, he looked at the peaceful expression resting on Phil’s face and found a smile work it’s way onto his lips.
Letting Phil’s hand slip from his, he leaned up and kissed his forehead gently, lovingly before he finally had to let go and just walk away and wait. Wait till the day he come home to someone and finally understand what it was like to just have someone care about you.