Clint wakes up in human form, arms and legs wrapped around Phil from behind, nose buried in the skin of Phil's neck. He tightens his grip slightly and sighs happily when Phil makes a sleepy little mumble that might be Clint's name into the pillow.

If he wasn't worried about waking Phil, Clint would have done a happy little jig lying down. Phil wants Clint for his Mate. Clint would be lying if he said he hadn't dreamed of it, hoped for it. But Clint is used to not getting what he wants - he hadn't dared believe this would be different. Having Phil as Alpha would have been enough.

Phil mumbles another sleepy complaint, and Clint realises that he's tightened his hold again. He relaxes with conscious effort, but it's too late. Phil rolls over onto his back and looks over at Clint with a soft smile.

"Sorry," Clint whispers. "Go back to sleep." Phil shakes his head.

"You're up," he murmurs. "Don't wanna sleep." Clint chuckles warmly.

"It's early," he points out.

"Don't care," Phil says. He turns onto his side facing Clint and throws an arm across Clint's stomach. "I like having you up here with me," he says. "You did it once before, in the hotel." Clint nods.

"Didn't know you'd noticed. You were having a nightmare," he explains. "Seemed to get better when I was close."

"Thank you," Phil says softly.

"Always," Clint replies. Phil snuggles in close with a contented sigh and presses a soft kiss to the side of Clint's neck. Clint turns his head to the side so he can return the gesture, brushing Phil's forehead with his lips. Phil's eyes close and Clint can tell he's about halfway back to sleep. Normally Clint is an early riser, but right now he's warm and content with Phil pressed against his side and he feels no real desire to move.

When they wake again it is late morning and the sun is high in the sky. A bright shaft of light is piercing through a gap in the curtains and Clint watches with amusement as Phil throws an arm up to block his eyes and whines into the pillow.

"Why doesn't the sun come with an off switch?" Phil asks peevishly. Clint laughs.

"Well, if it did, there'd be assholes turning it off and on all the time and all the crops would die and the climate would get thrown all out of whack and no one would ever be able to get any sleep," he replies seriously. Phil raises his head off the pillow to give Clint a withering glare.

"What have I told you about answering rhetorical questions?" Clint grins mischievously.

"Aw, boss, you know I'm just a dumb carnie, I don't know what all dem big words mean." Phil sighs in exasperation and without warning whips the pillow out from under his head and brings it down on Clint's startled face.

"And don't call me 'boss' when we're in bed together." Clint grins wickedly.

"Can I call you 'sir'?" he asks, with an exaggerated leer. Phil buries his head in the pillow he's reclaimed and groans. Clint feels inordinately proud of himself.

"Are you two getting up any time soon?" Becca's voice drifts from the bottom of the stairs. "Or do you need us to find somewhere else to be so you can have loud, enthusiastic sex?" Clint bursts out laughing as Phil turns bright red as a tomato.

"Thanks for the offer but it's not necessary," Clint calls, when it becomes clear that Phil's voice is escaping him. "We'll be down shortly." Phil buries his face in Clint's back.

"Are you sure you want to join this family?" he asks, teasing. Clint shifts to pull Phil into a hug.

"Yeah, I'm really sure," he says seriously, and Phil beams.