Bucky MCU / Clint 616
That was kind of the thing about all the Avengers, wasn't it? At some point or another, someone sort of deserved a fist to the jaw. Clint had had his moments (lots of them, fuck, so many). Cap and Tony had their moments. Bucky'd had them too, frankly.
Carol really would have really thrown down if there'd been a fight like in the bar. And Clint didn't even want to imagine Steve's disappointed face. That face haunted his dreams.
"Goats?" Clint asked, toeing his shoes off once the door was closed behind them and gesturing to the mess of pillows and blankets that were taking up space in the living room. It was...an attempt at comfort, anyway.
And he had a bed in the other room. Just. Clint preferred a different place to be when he wasn't actually intending to sleep. "I don't have goats, sorry. I have -- hey. Lucky!" He called his dog's name and there was a scampering sort of scratchy nails on wood noise from the floor above and then click click clicking down the stairs. "The world's best dog."