"I don't understand you," Clint said, like he was just unsure how anyone could refuse coffee at any given moment. It was a lifeblood and all that. Mostly it was a joke because Clint only grinned and shrugged before pushing himself away from the counter to shut all the machines off properly before exaggeratedly dusting his hands off and then tilting them away from himself in a nearly dismissive gesture. Done.
"Well then, let's get outta here. I've been wanting to stretch my legs properly for hours now." And if he vaulted over the counter top to get to the other side of it, landing mostly solidly -- well. It was still pretty much just an attempt to look cool.
He bumped shoulders with Bucky on the way out, locking the doors up behind them. "S'up?" He asked, curious. Because really, it was a little rare that people showed up just... looking to talk to him. Whenever that happened, he was pretty sure he'd done something wrong. In this case, Clint couldn't think of anything offensive that he'd done, but there was always room to be wrong.