"Yeah, yeah, you keep up that big talk. But if you die from a baby cow, I'm gonna laugh at your ghostly ass and I'm gonna adopt her, so joke's on you." Then he scoffed and reached past Steve to shove Bucky in the shoulder. "You wish." It wasn't a great comeback, but it didn't exactly matter, since Bucky's attention was now so clearly split.
Clint accepted Moo when Bucky dropped her on his lap, whereupon she immediately began scaling his shirt, climbing toward his shoulder. Clint barely winced as the little claws scratched his skin, too interested in the way Bucky was talking to Steve, now. Clint had had the vague sense that Steve and Bucky had been close as kids, but he'd never known the real extent of the friendship. Not until now.
Sure, there was the drug, and the drug influenced things a little, but no amount of happy drug would teach Bucky the exact spot to go for in a tickle fight. And even in the haze of mellowness, Clint's heart pinched a little. They hadn't lost this, not completely. But they had for a while, Clint could tell. And he had a pretty good idea of how awful that must have been, for both of them.
But now. This moment, things were good. They were so good that Clint smirked and used the arm not attached to the shoulder Moo was balancing on to pin Steve's shoulder to the couch, giving Bucky better access to his target. "Two to one, Stevie," Clint agreed. "Better surrender."