Much as Steve tried to stifle that laugh, Clint caught it anyway, and he grinned broadly as he watched Steve try to choke it down. "I knew you thought it was funny," he teased, nudging his shoulder against Steve's.
And Clint couldn't help but smile back, the warm, knowing kind, as Steve's face began to change as soon as Peggy's name left his lips. It was good to see him like that, the boyish shyness in him. He hadn't been keeping track of that, exactly, not beyond his brief contact with Peggy before his party. But it was good to see that whatever was going on, it seemed to be progressing well. Clint made a mental note to ask him about that, later.
"Awww well, that's just 'cause he doesn't know any better," Clint said, though he was still smiling as the dog licked at his face. He kept scratching at the dog's underbelly with one hand, but moved the soap around to his other side. The mud was coming off a little less clumpy now, and though the stink was still pretty pervasive, it was trending more toward wet dog smell and less toward rancid food.