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strix_albavia http://ift.tt/2ePNyQL:
copperbadge:
captn-sara-holmes:
captn-sara-holmes:
Okay I made myself sad. I looked back at that old fic I wrote where Steve loses the plot and spotted that I wrote Clint as the one Tony goes to when he realises they might have to put Steve down for good, like in CW ii Bruce went to Clint to ask him to stop him for good if needed why do everyone ask this of Clint and that’s why I’m sad.
@copperbadge
Bucky frowned at Clint, left hand still curved around the handle, body blocking the small gap between the door and frame.
“Where’s Steve?” he asked, because by all accounts Steve was at a meeting with people including Clint and if Clint were here and Steve not-
“Relax, he had errands to run,” Clint said, and held up a stack of pizza boxes topped with a six-pack of horrendously cheap beer. “Pizza?”
Bucky looked him up and down suspiciously, all the way from his undone sneakers to the quiver on his back to the band-aid on his forehead, and then back again for good measure.
“You want to come in and eat pizza and drink beer?” he asked slowly, not quite getting it. Steve’s friends were weird.
Clint nodded. “Yup.”
“Why?”
Clint just shrugged, the corner of his mouth hitching in a not quite smile. “Buddy, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
SEE. His plan is working perfectly!
***
“So then I said to him, pal if you wanted me to shoot it you should have painted it green!” Clint said, and Steve smiled, because it was a pretty good joke.
He took another bite of pizza, one hand still wrapped around the narrow glass coke bottle Clint had dug up from somewhere.
“Anyway, that’s how I got this one,” Clint said, pointing to a scar on his forearm, crossing the top of his wrist under his watch. “Ruined my super fly Swatch, too.”
“I’d have one about here, if I scarred,” Steve said, pointing to his bicep. “Hydra guy with a knife, right before Bucky picked him off from a thousand yards. Not really as funny, I suppose.”
“Well, they don’t all have to be howlers,” Clint said, biting into his slice of pizza.
“So…did you need to talk about something?” Steve asked.
Clint shook his head and said, around a full mouth of food, “Nah, why?”
“Oh, just…you’re here, with food and all…”
“Eh, Bucky said a couple of days ago that you liked the glass bottles for the Coke, and I happened to find some in this little bodega in Bed-Stuy and the, you know, the aesthetic is wasted on me,” Clint said, holding up his phone. “You look like some old dude painted you into a soda fountain.”
“Rockwell?” Steve asked, a little wearily.
“Nah, the other one, the shirt guy,” Clint said, snapping a photo.
“Leyendecker!” Steve said. He beamed. “Thanks Clint, that’s swell of you. I always liked him better.”
“See?” Clint turned the phone around and there was Steve, beaming away over a Coca Cola bottle, with a filter on him that made him look like a painting.
“Can I post it?” Clint asked, around another bite of pizza.
“Sure, I suppose,” Steve said, feeling warmer and more at home than he had in days.
“Hashtag buytheworldacoke,” Clint announced. “Hashtag bringbacktheglass.”
copperbadge:
captn-sara-holmes:
captn-sara-holmes:
Okay I made myself sad. I looked back at that old fic I wrote where Steve loses the plot and spotted that I wrote Clint as the one Tony goes to when he realises they might have to put Steve down for good, like in CW ii Bruce went to Clint to ask him to stop him for good if needed why do everyone ask this of Clint and that’s why I’m sad.
@copperbadge
Bucky frowned at Clint, left hand still curved around the handle, body blocking the small gap between the door and frame.
“Where’s Steve?” he asked, because by all accounts Steve was at a meeting with people including Clint and if Clint were here and Steve not-
“Relax, he had errands to run,” Clint said, and held up a stack of pizza boxes topped with a six-pack of horrendously cheap beer. “Pizza?”
Bucky looked him up and down suspiciously, all the way from his undone sneakers to the quiver on his back to the band-aid on his forehead, and then back again for good measure.
“You want to come in and eat pizza and drink beer?” he asked slowly, not quite getting it. Steve’s friends were weird.
Clint nodded. “Yup.”
“Why?”
Clint just shrugged, the corner of his mouth hitching in a not quite smile. “Buddy, if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
SEE. His plan is working perfectly!
***
“So then I said to him, pal if you wanted me to shoot it you should have painted it green!” Clint said, and Steve smiled, because it was a pretty good joke.
He took another bite of pizza, one hand still wrapped around the narrow glass coke bottle Clint had dug up from somewhere.
“Anyway, that’s how I got this one,” Clint said, pointing to a scar on his forearm, crossing the top of his wrist under his watch. “Ruined my super fly Swatch, too.”
“I’d have one about here, if I scarred,” Steve said, pointing to his bicep. “Hydra guy with a knife, right before Bucky picked him off from a thousand yards. Not really as funny, I suppose.”
“Well, they don’t all have to be howlers,” Clint said, biting into his slice of pizza.
“So…did you need to talk about something?” Steve asked.
Clint shook his head and said, around a full mouth of food, “Nah, why?”
“Oh, just…you’re here, with food and all…”
“Eh, Bucky said a couple of days ago that you liked the glass bottles for the Coke, and I happened to find some in this little bodega in Bed-Stuy and the, you know, the aesthetic is wasted on me,” Clint said, holding up his phone. “You look like some old dude painted you into a soda fountain.”
“Rockwell?” Steve asked, a little wearily.
“Nah, the other one, the shirt guy,” Clint said, snapping a photo.
“Leyendecker!” Steve said. He beamed. “Thanks Clint, that’s swell of you. I always liked him better.”
“See?” Clint turned the phone around and there was Steve, beaming away over a Coca Cola bottle, with a filter on him that made him look like a painting.
“Can I post it?” Clint asked, around another bite of pizza.
“Sure, I suppose,” Steve said, feeling warmer and more at home than he had in days.
“Hashtag buytheworldacoke,” Clint announced. “Hashtag bringbacktheglass.”
