Chapter Text
“-looks good on you.”
You didn’t even turn to face him, knowing there was a smart ass look waiting when you did.
“What?!” you ask.
“The blood,” he repeated, “it really pulls your whole ‘look’ together.”
Wiping the palm of your hand on the already stained fabric covering your thigh, you finally glanced over at him. Yep, there it was. That look.
“Not now, Clint.”
“I’m just saying,” he went on, “it’s your color.”
“You’re never ‘just saying’. You keep saying. Or you’re implying something.”
He shrugged. “True.”
The rest of the team should all be finishing up their parts of the mission. You could almost hear the bed calling your name. But right now you tried to wrap up the newly discovered slash on your hand.
As you tore off a strip of your shirt, you could feel the smirk growing on Clint’s face.
“Do not.” You practically snarl, trying to keep his comments to a minimum. “Do not say a word. Just keep it to yourself for once in your life.”
“When is that ever fun? You know, if you roll your eyes and harder th-”
With a large splintering crack, the door to the room was thrown open.
“All done here?” Thank goodness for Stark’s timing. Not that you were in any mood for his attitude either, but at least this meant you were heading home.
Back at the compound, you can’t help but head straight for your room. Sleep overcomes you no sooner than your head hits your pillow.
When you finally wake up, you curse yourself for at least not changing out of the grime and blood covered suit. Not sure if the ache in your joints and muscles is from the mission or from not having moved while being asleep, you figure a shower will help either way.
Making your way to the bathroom, you don’t bother to notice if anyone else is around until someone calls to you, “Wow. You look like shit.”
Letting out a huge sigh as you turn to face the direction of the insult, you’re not at all surprised to find Clint sitting on the counter with a bowl of cereal.
“Don’t you have your own food to eat? In your own kitchen?”
“It’s not just your kitchen.”
You continue towards to bathroom and say, “No, but you seem to take special pride in annoying me.” before closing the door behind you.
“It’s because I love you so much,” you hear him tease through the door.
When you get out of the shower, Clint’s gone. He even managed to clean up after himself. But, of course, he didn’t leave the place completely the way he found it.
A small piece of paper was sitting on the countertop where he had been eating.
You’re out of cereal.
-Barton
You ball up the scribbled note and toss it into the trash bin at the end of the counter, noticing the cereal box in the trash. He had actually managed to eat the one type of cereal that was yours and no one else here enjoyed. Perfect.
I should go and take all of his coffee. You think to yourself, before giving up the idea.
Not worth your energy, or time, to act like a child. To act like him. Besides, someone who shares a kitchen with him might actually appreciate you not doing that. Not that he had any respect for your roommates. Or maybe he did. You glance back at the trash bin. Maybe he knows you better than you thought.