Clint Barton is going back to bed. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} today_sucks) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} snapthread, |
Yes, good for them both that thoughts weren't out loud things. Or, usually weren't anyway. All bets were sort of off once either of them had had a few, but that wasn't yet, and Clint wasn't worried. Kate was still his favorite, anyway. Particularly when she pulled out a second bottle of beer.
"You spoil me, Bishop," he said, taking the bottle. "And yeah, I know. I impressed myself. You too, obviously." Except Kate did clean up pretty well, they both knew that from experience. Clint could if he wanted to, but didn't see much of a point here -- everyone should have just felt grateful that he hadn't brought his bow along with him for one of the first times ever.
"Kenny Loggins?" he asked, contemplating. "Why?" He wasn't saying no though, because, well, that song was a bop, okay? It was just great. No shame.