Clint & Natasha
"I can't believe you eat those," Natasha said, her nose crinkling up just a little. "It's your birthday, Barton, I promise I'll share the good flavors with you." Nothing to be done about it, though, the man preferred Twizzlers to Red Vines: he was a lost cause in the snack department. Though that was also the moment when she balanced her beer between her thighs to opened the M&Ms now that the rest of the candy was sorted. She dumped the entire box into her bag of popcorn, folded it over at the top, and gave it three hard shakes to mix them all up. Natasha had extremely firm opinions about her preferred movie snack foods at this point, and it had been a long time since she'd had a movie night.
So she'd arrived at the blanket with a stockpile.
She looked pretty pleased with herself when she opened the bag back up and saw the end result, the way the candy stuck to the popcorn with a little help from all the melting butter. Sweet, savory, excellent ratio, and she held the bag out to Clint first before diving right in, in case he wanted to try. It wasn't exactly cooking, but it also wasn't an avocado in a blender. Which she would maintain to this day was more the fault of the blender than user error; if anything, she'd pointed out a flaw in the system.
"I'd share pretty much anything with you anyway," she said, and it made her smile. "Guess it doesn't have to be your birthday for that. The sharing's not part of your present or anything."