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hiddencaitThis one is another from last year for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
enochiansigils who requested "Clint/Coulson dancing around the issue." My brain took a very little take on that prompt. It ended up short, but felt complete, so hopefully she doesn't mind!
Cross posted to AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1090456http://archiveofourown.org/works/1090456
Two Steps Forward...
Clint/Coulson
Total Word Count: 192
There’s a rhythm to this thing between them, Clint has discovered, but it seems to change beat and measure constantly. It’s hard to find his feet from one moment to the next.
Some days he’s doing the Charleston, all smiles and winks and smuggling in booze while Phil watches in his too-pressed suit and jazz echoes all around them.
Another’s a line dance, and he and Phil are joined by others on the floor, each falling into place without missing a beat though some are not as skillful as his usual partner. There’s some fun to these days, but he prefers it when he and Phil are side by side.
On others, it’s ballet, and he’s not Tasha who might have been born in toes shoes. He feels unsteady, ungraceful, trying desperately to balance in skin that feels too tight when ever Phil is watching. He can’t manage the turns, but he’ll try for the leap if that’s what it takes to win some small sign of appreciation.
One day he hopes they might waltz, hand to hand, completely in sync, and so, so close together. He can almost hear the music.
enochiansigils who requested "Clint/Coulson dancing around the issue." My brain took a very little take on that prompt. It ended up short, but felt complete, so hopefully she doesn't mind!Cross posted to AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1090456http://archiveofourown.org/works/1090456
Two Steps Forward...
Clint/Coulson
Total Word Count: 192
There’s a rhythm to this thing between them, Clint has discovered, but it seems to change beat and measure constantly. It’s hard to find his feet from one moment to the next.
Some days he’s doing the Charleston, all smiles and winks and smuggling in booze while Phil watches in his too-pressed suit and jazz echoes all around them.
Another’s a line dance, and he and Phil are joined by others on the floor, each falling into place without missing a beat though some are not as skillful as his usual partner. There’s some fun to these days, but he prefers it when he and Phil are side by side.
On others, it’s ballet, and he’s not Tasha who might have been born in toes shoes. He feels unsteady, ungraceful, trying desperately to balance in skin that feels too tight when ever Phil is watching. He can’t manage the turns, but he’ll try for the leap if that’s what it takes to win some small sign of appreciation.
One day he hopes they might waltz, hand to hand, completely in sync, and so, so close together. He can almost hear the music.
