The X-Project

Saturday night... didn't exactly go as planned for Clint and Gabriel. And that's okay. (Warning: Reading this is a little bit like taking a shot of karo syrup.)


The first sign that things hadn't gone according to plan was that Gabriel was still on the couch.

The second was that the title menu for The Hustler was still playing on his TV.

The third - and really, the most obvious - was that Clint Barton's head was resting on his chest, and that both of them were still wearing their clothes.

Unable to get to his iPhone without removing his arm from around Clint, Gabriel glanced toward the window to get a sense of just how long they'd been lying like this. He blinked into the sun, then closed his eyes again and shifted so he'd at least be a little more comfortable.

This had not been the plan when he'd asked Clint to hang out, but Gabriel wasn't sure he minded.

Clint woke up in stages. First, light was already filtering through his eyelids to make him see a slightly lighter shade of gray, and for some reason that seemed fairly odd to him. Then something moved beneath him, which was also odd. And then he went to bury his head in his pillow only to find... not a pillow. Prying open one eye, he looked blearily up at... Gabriel's chin. "Huh," he mumbled, blinking his other eye open.

Whoops. "Hi there," Gabriel mumbled. "I woke you - I'm sorry." And, because he was still processing this weird situation and couldn't deal with silence, he added an unnecessary coda. "It's morning."

"Yeah," Clint agreed, closing his eyes again for a moment before giving in and yawning. He turned his face away, burying his nose in a cushion as he tried to stretch without moving too much. "Good thing it's Sunday."

"The Lord's day." Gabriel moved his arm as Clint turned, reaching up to tousle his hair. Was that too affectionate? That was probably too affectionate. His gaze shifted from Clint to the screen. "How far did we make it into the movie?" Obviously not that far, since the cool masculinity of Paul Newman hadn't had time to set the mood.

Clint cracked a smile at that. "Pretty sure we didn't get more than ten minutes in. And I'm agnostic, so God doesn't have any day he likes best so far as I'm concerned."

"That's what I like to hear, you sinner."

Laughing, Clint plucked at the hem of Gabriel's shirt for a moment as the oddness of things... actually started to really hit home. "Sorry, though - pretty sure I passed out. Just been a crazy week."

"No, that's okay." Gabriel draped his arm around Clint's shoulder again. "You're a busy guy. I didn't – it's okay." He pointed and flex his toes. "Everything okay, or just the usual mansion-school-interpersonal drama-mansion routine?"

"It's all good, just reading all the old mission reports plus Mechanical Engineering and... I dunno, everything else," Clint said, trying to work out whether or not he should be uncomfortable or awkward or something. Or if he should like, get his shoes and head back to his suite downstairs. Except he was pretty comfortable where he was and while this was kind of awkward, it certainly wasn't awkward enough to make him want to leave. "Midterms and finals - it's like midterms never end."

"I'll take your word for it," Gabriel tried to sound more sympathetic than flat. "In that case, I'm glad you found time for me." Which he was, really. He just had expected them to be awake for slightly more of it. "I like to think I'm more interesting than books and tests."

"No, you're definitely more interesting than books and tests," Clint said, laughing again. "Which is why I haven't been sleeping as much as I probably should." Leaning up, he pressed a light kiss to Gabriel's lips.

The kiss took Gabriel by surprise, but he tilted his head down nonetheless. "We haven't been sleeping much, have we?" He grinned, pulling Clint a little closer and tracing his forearm. "My bad."

"'sall good," Clint said, words half-mumbled. "'s Sunday. Like the best day for accidentally sleeping in." Plus, y'know, whatever this was - it worked. "Breakfast?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." Gabriel nodded. He wondered if Clint was as uncomfortable as he now sounded. The thought made him feel a little awkward, and suddenly, he was aware that they were on the couch, and it was morning, and Johnny was sleeping not too far away. "Breakfast," he repeated a little dumbly. "I should probably shower. Not now, I mean. Just, you know. Eventually."

"Stop being weird," Clint said, smiling against Gabriel's shirt for a moment. He wrapped an arm around Gabriel's waist before essentially going boneless. "'m comfortable. Shower and breakfast later."

"Not being weird." He totally was. Gabriel shifted again, letting Clint settle against him. "Just foggy. I'm a professional night owl. I'm not my best in the mornings."

"Totally being weird," Clint grinned. "But I'll let it slide this time, since poking you about it would require effort."

"Dependably lazy." Gabriel laughed. "On Sunday you really let it all go."

"That's the real reason Sundays exist," Clint said. "I mean, seriously - I spend most of my Sundays either sleeping or watching movies. It's a good day."

"Mine usually involve dealing with a hangover or questioning last night's decisions."

"You're ridiculous."

"Sure am," Gabriel beamed. "Can't say you weren't warned." His hand crept around toward Clint's waist. "Lucky I'm so charming, or I probably wouldn't get away with it."

"Now you're just fishing for compliments," Clint said, shaking his head.

"Yup," Gabriel nodded, still grinning. "Because I'm ridiculous." He tilted his chin down. "And yet here you are," he added before kissing Clint gently.

"I have questionable taste. Don't hold it against me."

"Which reminds me," Gabriel poked Clint's ribs ever-so-lightly. "How is your paparazzi love quadrangle, you swinger you?"

Clint dropped his forehead onto Gabriel's shoulder and half-moaned. "I hate all of them. Every single one."

"I know. That's kind of how you got into this mess." Gabriel nuzzled Clint's hair. "On the other hand, I bet I could sell some of your secrets for thousands of dollars."

"Split the profits 50/50 and I might go in for that," Clint said. "As long as it involves also selling ridiculous pictures of Keller, too."

"I don't have ridiculous pictures of Keller. Got better ways to fill my days, thanks." Gabriel frowned. "Do you have ridiculous pictures of Keller?"

Dropping his hand down, over the side of the couch, Clint fished around until he found his phone where he'd put it the night before. He put in the code to unlock it and sorted through his pictures until the came to the one he'd edited of Keller by the lake made up to look like Satan. Showing it to Gabriel, he said, "I don't think it'd go for much, but y'know."

Gabriel squinted and turned his head. "What's coming out of his shoulder?"

Clint laughed. "Jesus - he's Satan. It's a tail and a pitchfork!"

"Stick to the books, bud. You do not have a future as an artist."

"Yeah, I wasn't really considering attempting a career," Clint said, smiling. "What color are the lines? I tried for red, but I can never really tell. That could be a weird shade of green for all I know. Maybe he looks like Swamp Thing."

"It's pretty red. Red enough. Anyway, put it away." He playfully swatted at the phone in Clint's hand. "Devil or no devil, I don't want to look at Keller right now."

Clint let his phone drop back off the side of the couch, listened to it thunk against the carpet, and then propped his chin on Gabriel's chest. "How long d'you think we've got till Johnny gets up?"

"I dunno." Gabriel squinted and peered toward Johnny's door. "It's a Sunday. I think he sleeps kinda late, but I don't know if he's got plans or anything." He closed his eyes and tried to listen to see if Johnny was stirring. "Wouldn't surprise me if he already knows you're here and is just being cool about it."

Smiling, Clint said, "His danger sense is probably pinging. If he walks out I might throw a sock at him or something and that could like. Get lint on his shirt."

"Be nice. I like him, especially as far as roommates go."

"He taught me how to do backflips," Clint offered, grinning now. "And we've done some pretty wicked Danger Room scenarios together."

"See," Gabriel nodded, "amid the sloppy appearance, he's got a big heart." He looked away from Johnny's door and back toward Clint. "We should maybe not talk about Johnny. I bet he's got a sixth sense for his name."

"You're probably right," Clint said, nodding a little. "Best not to tempt the danger sense. There are more interesting things we can be doing."

"Tell me more." Gabriel grinned slyly.

"Why don't I just show you?" Clint asked, leaning up to kiss Gabriel again.