'Wall' is a pretty good term for what Steve feels like is going on. Like they keep trying to get around it, maybe are chipping away at it, but not quite getting there. Backing off, rather than being willing to blow through.

Whether that's a lack of trust that it won't destroy any friendship they have (valid) or something else, he doesn't know. He's pretty sure they're both doing it. He is al the way sure he is.

He is actively scared that he's going to make Clint bolt and hide better next time and that thought horrifies him.

He's in the shower for a while mulling it over, and longer for adding shaving off a couple of weeks worth of beard off with somewhat shitty disposable razors he picked up. He comes back out pretty quietly, back in sweats and socks (and t-shirt), stowes the clothes he'd had on and digs out a notebook and pencil and takes over one end of the bed, curls up and starts... well sketching his own stuff.

Which is not a map. It's actually just the view out the window. Doesn't actually count as art, just copying what he's seeing and keeping him out of the way and occupied. Buys him some time to decide if he's going to address the dance they're doing and if so what the right angle on that one is.