Clint so far was not having a good day.
The McDonald’s coffee machine broke. So no dozen espresso shot americano.
His card bounced then over drafted on the second big breakfast he ordered.
Pietro kicked him out of bed twice and one of these days.
One of them is going to flunk out of the Avengers on account of high cholesterol. Thanks to their McDonald’s addictions though Mr. Genetically gifted over here with the good hair. Is largely immune to it thanks to his X gene unlocked through questionable methods.
Being skinny fat is a thing and Clint’s cardiovascular system isn’t what it used to be. Plus living in NYC isn’t cheap this despite the fact that they basically room and board on Stark’s dime. Stark can’t keep the communal fridge stocked fast enough without going broke.
And right now living in a separate apartment is not feasible in this economy.
Clint’s head hurts and there’s stress induced GERD that’s flaring up. He motioned to his younger lover “get in the car kid I’m driving. And no Ocean Eyes if I hear that song one more time I’m gonna scream.”
Pietro almost made the joke until Clint fixed him with a glare while they got in the suv. “Put your damn seat belt on and mouth shut one smart ass word out of you and you can run there.” Instead the blonde gave him a playful salute while Clint deliberated on whether. Loving the speedster is worth it ofcourse the answer is yes. But still it doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about throwing him out of the moving car.
When they got their marching orders Clint didn’t even touch his bow or crossbow. No this was a job for his spite swords. His daddy didn’t get a nap so now it’s everyone’s problem swords. And if they’re really unlucky well… sharp shooting is always fun.
“Feet off the dash you’re the navigation kid and if this goes well I’ll consider suffering through The Tudors for you.”
Pietro smiled yeah this is just another day but only one of them isn’t cranky. And he’s loving it.