It's almost like he can feel the sparks fly with the way their methods of communication keep breaking down so spectacularly. Clint gives him a hardened glare, building up a sharp retort--

--and then lets it go, flopping back along the excuse for a bed with a long exhale. He rubs at his eyes.

"Imagine I made some joke about how kinky that sounds," he says tiredly with a wave of his hand.