"I would never bring a cow all the way to Eight just to judge you, Barnes, that's way too much work. That's just a happy side effect." Then, Moo catapulted her little body from Steve's chest and wrapped around Bucky's hand and Clint couldn't help but let out a deep, belly-laugh at the sight of it, and at Bucky's reaction. "Swear to God, I fed her on the train. She's just marking her territory, is all."
It struck a chord in him, that Bucky's first reaction was to casually chide his new pet for not biting the other arm and that, more than anything, even the smile on his face, made the whole trip worth it. That had been Bucky's first line of defense when Clint had texted from the train, after all -- I'm made of metal, Barton, like it was some flaw he couldn't overcome, like it meant that the whole rest of him wasn't still inherently gentle. But less than an hour had lessened that a little, clearly, and maybe it was just the drug talking, but Clint really, really hoped that this was more than that, that this feeling would stay.
He watched Steve and Bucky's exchange, guffawing a little at the obvious joke that was right there so there enough that, in spite of everything, all the stupid drama of the past couple of days, Clint caught Bucky's eyes and muttered, "bet you do, Barnes." Then, he slung an arm casually around Steve's shoulder, spreading out and said, "No, no you're thinking goats. Common mistake."