Clint B / Borky Barnes
The metal arm was usually hot but now it was just hot. Not that Clint wasn't a total glutton for punishment anyway. He'd touch it and burn himself a million times over and be pretty okay with it. Bucky, probably less so. But it was fine.
"It's too late," Clint said, going for sad but he mostly just looked content, leaning into Bucky's touch even as he looked around. "You're a square by default. Sorry. Las Vegas has a million options: gambling, strippers, music shows, that one weird circus troop, drinking, swimming pools, buffets -- and you're with the guy who's thinking about buying purple m&ms in bulk, instead."