Of course Clint had accepted the invitation to go with Natasha to visit Bucky. He'd practically perked up like a dog excited over pizza about it, even if their last conversation had been wildly awkward and devolved into Clint more or less being scolded.
Water under the bridge though, obviously. Mistakes had been made, Clint had more or less owned up to them, everything was fine and dandy.
Or, well, they were for him. Maybe not so much for Bucky who was hunched down on his front stoop like the saddest , but still somehow hottest super soldier of all time. Clearly it was a talent that this dimensions' Bucky had mastered since even though no one had heard from him in a few days, his hair still looked pretty good in comparison to some other Bucky's he'd known. Well, just the one. Cool guy. Constantly needed a shower.
"That's alright," he said, loftily, glad that Bucky's hair was no longer in his face because he wasn't sounding great and therefore Clint wasn't hearing him great. "You don't have to say anything." Natasha might not agree with that, but Clint was pretty great about just saying the first thing that came to his head without really worrying about it.
"We brought you cake. It was shaped like a penis and I got it from outer space at great personal expense." He gestured vaguely with his free hand to his bruised up face like that explained everything. "So that's how you know it's gonna be good. You got forks in there?"