Clint & Natasha
Natasha laughed, tucking her fingers under his chin to tilt his head back up when he ducked it. It did something inside her stomach, when he did that, when he stumbled a little for what to say next, almost like - shyness, sort of, but not quite. "Hi," she echoed, because that seemed better than getting overly florid about it. "You know you're also easily the best looking thirty-five year old here." Not that she'd conducted a scientific poll about anyone's ages, and maybe she was a little biased, but she'd stand by her statement.
She leaned back on her elbows, stretching out on the blanket and tipped her head back to look at the sky overhead, finally starting to darken enough that they'd be able to get this show rolling soon. This was - nice, the normalcy of it. Natasha genuinely enjoyed other people's birthdays, parties and presents and the idea that everyone got a built-in day to feel a little special, even if it was over something ordinary. She liked the excuse.
"So it's your birthday, which I think makes it your choice," she said, smiling up at him as she lifted the beer to her mouth for another sip. "Do you want to watch the whole movie, or is there a point in the middle where things get boring and you want to make out a little, or do we just save the making out for later, when you get your present?"