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Clint stormed into their apartment, heading for the kitchen.
Phil looked up from the couch, “Bad day?”
Clint grunted back as he opened the freezer. There it was, buried behind the ice cream, the Samoas, his last box of frozen heaven. He’d been saving it for a moment like this. A new class of junior agents who couldn’t find their dicks with a magnifying glass and a neon sign, newbies who thought an Omega couldn’t possibly be THE firearms instructor, Alphas wet behind the ears who practically begged to be pinned to the wall by an arrow or five, uuuuggggghhhh.
All he wanted was cookies, couch, television and mate, in that order.
He grabbed the box and pulled it out. It was…light?
It had been opened.
The fuck?
There was ONE Samoa left in the box.
THE FUCK?!?!?
The only other person with access to the freezer was sitting on the couch, quietly working on his StarkPad.
“Did you eat the Samoas in the freezer?”
“Hm?”, his mate never looked up from his screen.
“Did you eat the cookies in the freezer?”, he ground out.
“Yeah, I had some of them.”
“You ate all of them.”
“No, there’s one left.”
“THERE’S ONLY ONE LEFT! OUT OF THE ENTIRE BOX! WHO EATS AN ENTIRE BOX AND LEAVES JUST ONE????”
Phil looked confused. The discussion had taken a turn somewhere and he had not been paying attention at all.
“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” At any other time the lines of confusion on Phil’s face would have done funny things to the Omega’s insides but not today. He did manage to pull in some calming breaths and try to center himself.
“You ate all but one of the Samoas from my box. I was saving them. They were my this-day-has-been-so-fucked-I-need-to remember-there-is-beauty-in-this-world snack.” Clint kept eye contact with the Alpha, remaining calm and steady, communicating his thoughts like the adult he was.
“You did not tell me that. The box wasn’t labeled, how was I supposed to know?” The confusion had quickly slid to exasperation mixed with frustration and annoyance. That was not the look that did funny things, that was the look that either made him guilty or angry. Well, he didn’t eat the last of his own cookies, so he wasn’t feeling any guilt.
“You know because the box is NOT open. You know because the box is behind everything UNOPENED. You know because it is not sitting around OPEN for anyone to have.”
“Okay but in my defense, when I was rooming with Nick the rule was that everything in the kitchen was fair game as long as you didn’t eat the last one if you didn’t buy it.”
“The fuck sort of frat boy rule is that? If you didn’t buy it, you don’t eat it without asking! Especially if it’s still sealed or no one tells you otherwise! AND DO I LOOK LIKE FURY TO YOU???”
Clint was breathing hard, his chest heaving. Phil was watching him carefully, like he did Tony when he was talking about improving their coffee machine. He set down his tablet, slowly rose from the couch and walked towards Clint. His scent was calm, relaxing, almost like a rainfall in the woods. He could feel the same emotions along their bond also.
“I’m sorry about the cookies. I didn’t realize they were important and I should have asked you if you were saving them.” His hands brushed the Omega’s, making him release the crushed cookie box. “Sit down with me and tell me what happened. Afterwards, if you still want some, I’ll get Jarvis to find me a box of those cookies for you.”
“Two boxes.”
“Two.”
“And we are establishing some rules about food in here.”
“Yes, love. We will.”
The rest of the evening was spent in quiet conversation, take-out and a quiet request to Jarvis for a case of Samoas.
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“Daddy!!! I want some ice cream!!!”
Clint looked up from his bowl to see his son bouncing in front of him.
“Poppa’s in the kitchen. Ask him nicely to give you some.”
“Okay!” The seven-year old tornado moved to the kitchen. Clint could hear the murmurs of conversation between his Alpha and their cub. It was sweet, perfect, something he thought he would never have.
“What do you mean you ate it? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!?!?”
Clint quickly moved from the couch to the kitchen. Phil was holding the freezer door open, engaged in a stare down with William. Their cub was clearly unhappy and Phil seemed to be cringing?
“It was my chocoblate fudge ice cream! Daddy & I bought it special! Why would you eat it?”
Oh, the food bandit struck again. They had worked out Phil’s tendencies to eat whatever was laying around and Clint’s hoarding of special snacks. One of the compromises was that if the item had been opened already, it was fair game to finish off. They may have neglected to inform William of the negotiations.
“Kiddo, Poppa thought you were done with the container. There wasn’t much left and you haven’t wanted ice cream for a while”
“Two weeks at least” was murmured from the freezer as Phil located the regular chocolate ice cream. “We have chocolate. I can give you a bowl of that and we will get your favorite at the store next time.”
“Alright, that’s okay.” With as much affronted diginity he could muster, William settled onto the counter stool. Once Phil set down his ice cream, he began eating. Testing the waters, Phil asked “So, how’s it tasting?”
“Good.” Then with a side glance at the Alpha, “But not as good as chocolate fudge.”
Jarvis had the chocolate fudge delivered before bedtime.