Chapter 2
Clint winced inwardly. Nat was gonna shoot him in the foot - twice - when he got back.
But it wasn’t like he could just leave the kid - not after that - when he was transparently lying about not going to try something like that again, and, even though there was definitely something… off… about the whole thing, Clint didn’t feel right just calling it a day and leaving it at that.
He slid his phone back into his pocket, glancing over at the kid - teen, definitely older than his own two - as they continued their trek down the stairs.
There was a red flush along the back of his neck that’d crept up to the tips of his ears, and he was wiping his palms surreptitiously against his jeans. Nervous was an understatement. Embarrassed? Maybe shame at having been caught - or about the intentions he’d had?
Clint shook his head lightly, ignoring the threatening buzz coming from his pocket. It’d be fine.
Probably.
He knew Nat was alright - the mission was purely in the stakeout stages at the moment, the two of them along with a few other agents having set up watch on the warehouse a couple of buildings away. There were suspicions that the manufacturers inside were working with Chitauri-based weapons or at least the cores to create them, but they didn’t yet have enough concrete evidence to back up their suspicions.
Hence, the stakeout.
It was going fine, too, in the sense that it was going, at least. They hadn’t yet seen anything noteworthy, and no delivery trucks had stopped by yet for them to be able to track or trace.
As it was, he’d simply been doing a routine scan over the surrounding buildings, and his gaze had honed onto the lone figure standing on a ledge not far away from where he stood.
Without a second thought, he’d raced across the rooftops, springing himself forward in running leaps and tucking and rolling his landings. At the final one, he caught himself on the surprisingly sturdy fire escape landing a couple stories below the roof itself and quickly crept up it, stopping at the top several feet away from the kid.
And the rest was history. He called out to the kid, almost had a heart attack when said kid stepped closer to the edge, and then finally - thankfully - got him to come down.
And now the two of them were walking down the stairs and had just alighted on the first floor, heading towards the exit.
The kid had gotten increasingly fidgety the closer they got to doors, looking more than a little ready to bolt. He let the kid go through first, and gave a light “thanks” when the teen held the door open for him too.
Then they stood there for a moment, right outside the entrance, Clint peering down at the teen with his head cocked just a smidge to the side while the kid shifted from foot to foot.
“I-” the brunette started, but Clint smoothly interrupted him, face clear as if he hadn’t even heard.
“There’s a pretty decent coffee shop around the corner,” he segued airily, shoving his thumbs into his front pockets. Hm. The pockets of his charcoal cargo pants, his black form fitting vest tucked into it. Not exactly… discreet. Clint shrugged internally. At least nobody could tell it was armored, and it wasn’t like he had his bow. It was fine. Definitely.
He zoned back in as the kid responded with a drawn out, “Okaaay?” voice pitched high, and Clint let out a quiet exhale of a laugh as the kid visibly cringed over his own reply.
Then the spy grinned, blasé, jerking his head in the direction of the café and setting his pace at a leisurely stroll that the kid hesitantly fell into step with. The blonde rolled his shoulders back slightly, head tipping backwards as he squinted into the sunlight. “Nothin’ like a good ol’ cuppa joe,” he drawled, easygoing as can be, ignoring the incredulous look the teen sent him as he let a guileless smirk quirk at his lips.