Clint grunts a noise of acknowledgement and switches to doomscrolling news. Until Natasha's burning gaze makes him glance over at her.
They have an entire conversation with looks, something that unnerves Bruce a little and absolutely entertains Tony until it annoys him that he's left out of the loop. She's noticed, in fact thinks they have been shockingly obvious. Bruce, not at all engaged with anything that's been going on around him, belatedly speaks up: "I dunno, I think it's okay in here." Without even looking up.
Clint's look-speak indicates that he's pretty sure Nat's the only one who's noticed a thing. And she would. She isn't going to say anything, but if she ever decides it might be effective blackmail material, or just really funny, she might threaten something down the line. (Probably the latter, just to see the look on Tony's face.)
She eventually, with a dramatic eyeroll, unfurls herself from her cross-legged perch atop the bar and ruffles his hair as she goes by. "I'm not covering for any of your bruises," she says lowly in his ear, and he simply grins stupid at her in return.
Ten minutes more or less go by, and it's his turn to utter something noncommittal about probably going to the range if it isn't too hot, does not expect to be called out on it if he's not there anytime soon, and wanders off. He makes a stop at his own place, more decorated than he presumes Steve's is. It's a home away from home, with comforts of his own. There's no real telling what's going to happen (besides a good time), and given that he's pretty sure that Steve doesn't have much of a dating life going on no matter what Nat's tried to suggest to him, he feels like it's a pretty good guess Steve's isn't exactly fully equipped for said good time. But, hey, maybe he is! No judgement. Still gonna tuck a small bottle of lube in a pocket. Checks himself in a mirror, likes what Nat's ruffle has done to his hair, ponders whether he should show up divested of some clothes as well, decides he likes the idea of being unwrapped for show.
He makes his way to Steve's and knocks. Oh, sure, there's little digital doorbells, and little digital keypads, and digital everything. But Steve's oldschool. He'll probably appreciate a good old fashioned knock instead.
no subject
Clint grunts a noise of acknowledgement and switches to doomscrolling news. Until Natasha's burning gaze makes him glance over at her.
They have an entire conversation with looks, something that unnerves Bruce a little and absolutely entertains Tony until it annoys him that he's left out of the loop. She's noticed, in fact thinks they have been shockingly obvious. Bruce, not at all engaged with anything that's been going on around him, belatedly speaks up: "I dunno, I think it's okay in here." Without even looking up.
Clint's look-speak indicates that he's pretty sure Nat's the only one who's noticed a thing. And she would. She isn't going to say anything, but if she ever decides it might be effective blackmail material, or just really funny, she might threaten something down the line. (Probably the latter, just to see the look on Tony's face.)
She eventually, with a dramatic eyeroll, unfurls herself from her cross-legged perch atop the bar and ruffles his hair as she goes by. "I'm not covering for any of your bruises," she says lowly in his ear, and he simply grins stupid at her in return.
Ten minutes more or less go by, and it's his turn to utter something noncommittal about probably going to the range if it isn't too hot, does not expect to be called out on it if he's not there anytime soon, and wanders off. He makes a stop at his own place, more decorated than he presumes Steve's is. It's a home away from home, with comforts of his own. There's no real telling what's going to happen (besides a good time), and given that he's pretty sure that Steve doesn't have much of a dating life going on no matter what Nat's tried to suggest to him, he feels like it's a pretty good guess Steve's isn't exactly fully equipped for said good time. But, hey, maybe he is! No judgement. Still gonna tuck a small bottle of lube in a pocket. Checks himself in a mirror, likes what Nat's ruffle has done to his hair, ponders whether he should show up divested of some clothes as well, decides he likes the idea of being unwrapped for show.
He makes his way to Steve's and knocks. Oh, sure, there's little digital doorbells, and little digital keypads, and digital everything. But Steve's oldschool. He'll probably appreciate a good old fashioned knock instead.