Clint, who had been fast asleep on the most comfortable bed he'd probably ever had the pleasure of laying in in his entire life woke with an overly loud shout just as he tumbled off the (rather high) bed and onto the (not nearly as nice) floor.
Not a familiar floor. Nor had it been a familiar bed, but that wasn't anything new and so he didn't take much stock in it. Not as much as he did being thrown out of the damn thing. "Barney, what the hell?" he asked, certain that his jerk of a brother was yelling at him for something even though he couldn't hear it in the first place. Stupid Barney.
He gathered himself up off of the floor to prop his arms up on the bed and then gave a good long pause when he realized that that was in no way, shape or form his brother. Where -- we he caught, but that was about it. "Pshh," he said, because this wasn't his first rodeo. He'd been in countless 'homes in the last year, and even if the bed in this one seemed pretty nice (minus the weird ass sharing), he'd probably be running away again before too long. "Forget which home you ended up in?" He asked, nose scrunching up with a defensive little sniff, coz he was sure his words weren't coming out how he wanted and this wasn't his brother who wouldn't care.