"I'm afraid the art is nonnegotiable," Clint said not even bothering to look apologetic. "So it's good you can get over it. COFFEE doesn't tolerate for discriminating against sexy quadrupeds." Well. Maybe sexy was pushing it a little, because even if it was of Bucky (who was more than arguably good looking) it was still half a horse and Clint wasn't really sure he wanted to be the guy who was viewed as a horse lover.
Oh well, it was too late. It was out there now anyway. Innocently creepy. Or something.
It was flirting, what the two of them did. It probably always had been a little bit. Ever since they'd decided to wander around convention halls together, looking at bad art and then stealing coffee and coffee makers alike until Clint had his hands full with prints and illegal contraband both. It'd been a good time.
But it was definitely flirting. Clint wondered, vaguely, if he should feel bad about that because he flirted very similarly with Natasha and he was with Natasha. He didn't really want to be seen as someone who couldn't keep his shit together and to himself (he'd been that person before, and had deserved the smackings he'd gotten for it, in some regard). But at the same time -- it was -- innocent. Playful. A way to keep their spirits up, maybe. Making Bucky look lighter and happier seemed like more than a good enough reason to straddle a dangerous fence for.
More so, he was certain that this was not something that Natasha would frown upon.
So he smiled right back, boyish and bright. "Maybe it isn't," he agreed. "I am both incorrigible and irresistible, obviously." Listen, he had to break out the big vocabulary every once in a while, and it was best he did it vocally because he'd never begin to know how to spell those words. "You wanted to talk?" He prompted. "Wanna coffee for the road?"