h a w k e y e

“I actually don’t know how old I am, so I’m rejecting that on principle.” Jess smirked before shaking her head. “I feel old. If I’m not out there being punched in the face than I’m at home on my hands and knees picking up Cheerios. Turns out boyo is very strong.”

“If you have to brace yourself against the wall when you stand back up then you’re old.” he matched her smile. “You gotta keep things interesting to stay sane. Maybe I should think about kids too.” 

“You really gonna stuck with springy as your adjective? You know, Clint, less pizza and more spinach may help. Not that I can judge. I did spend a year eating only peanut butter sandwiches.”

“Peanut butter only isn’t a great look for anyone, especially you. Also, I eat spinach. Sometimes I mix if in some jarred alfredo from the corner store. Besides,” he stretched out his back. “I can still run miles around some of these people, so I think I’m fine.” That wasn’t entirely true, but hey, he didn’t need to be a sprinter to be able to fire a bow. 

“Of course I understand what you’re saying. I’m just wondering why.”

“When did you start scrutinizing my speeches, Nat? Sometimes I just like to hear myself speak.” 

“I can’t actually talk to bugs – did Scott tell you we could?”

“Yeah but I didn’t believe him. Mostly because I don’t believe anything that comes out of his mouth.” 

“–I’m not sure whose this is, but it’s expired.”

“I’m not even gonna pretend to sympathize when you should’ve learned a long time ago not to trust anything in my fridge.” Clint reclined on his couch and then immediately readjusted to avoid the spring. “I can order you a pizza instead.” 

“You invite your ex-wife. You can invite my best friend.” Kate sent him a pointed look before muttering under her breath, “Beside, we all know Stark throws a better party anyway.” That was due to budget and planning. Kate didn’t mind black tie with the long dresses but it would always remind her of her childhood. Cheap pizza and shitty beer had become her current speed. At Clint’s casual suggest Kate paused to look at him. “Gerry Drew? The kid can crawl on ceilings and shoot energy from his ‘lil baby fists. Imagine him on a motorized bike. Do you want his mother to kill you? Besides,” a beat. “I didn’t know you and Jess were get her kid a gift close again. Scandalous.” Kate kicked at the TV box absently before quickly moving to steady the TV itself. “Shameful. That’s what this is.”

“Stark doesn’t throw parties. He has an open bar and a dance floor, it’s not the same thing.” he responded good-naturedly. “I live above the best single slice you can get in the city -- that alone earns me some points.” Clint took a seat on his threadbare couch, kicking his feet up the coffee table and covering a disarray of stickers that adorned the top - some worn and hard to distinguish. Folding his hands over his stomach, he shrugged. “Most normal thing I could probably get him. His mother has tried already, and as you can see, she’s not too good at it.” Another shrug. “Who says we are? I just figured, you know, things aren’t the easiest around here. Might as well do something nice for the kid.”  

“Three month sta – call me out.” Kate feigned hurt. “It’s been, like, almost a year. Roughly. I don’t know. We weren’t exactly exclusive in the beginning.” Case and point: Johnny Watts. He had been better than her anyway in the best ways possible. He was a good person and Kate was trying to not screw over good people anymore. “How about your love life, Clinton? How’s that going or are you still right hand exclusive?” Pulling herself off the floor, Kate dusted off her jeans and wondered why she always wore black and then sat on the ground. “I’m buying you a TV stand for Christmas. What was that box even for?”

“Give him another year and I might invite him to my Christmas shindig.” Which was an unlikely event, as Clint didn’t do elaborate Christmases or shindigs. And he certainly wasn’t going to entertain Julian fucking Keller either. “Can never leave ya you know,” he said, the corner of his mouth upturned. “You know, I thought about adding a third to my Christmas list this year. Thought about getting Gerry a bike. Toddler-sized of course, but with a motor.” he held his hands out like he’d just offered Kate his excellent idea on a silver platter. He casually glanced over his shoulder where his small TV was perched precariously on a cardboard box that was beginning to cave in. “Probably the TV.”  

“I’m sorry, is that something humans do now? Just become part cyborg because they’re old and tired?”

He stretched his arms over his head. “In this day and age. If you can afford it. Or you know the right guy.” 

“Stop talking like you’re old. You’re making me feel old and I’m already going through an existential crisis.” 

“Face it Jess. We are old. I’m already grumbling at the radio and struggling to understand references.” 

“That bad? I don’t know – Rhodey says they’re comfortable but he can’t feel his legs. I’d take my chances with your own.”

“He just looks so --- springy” Clint punctuated his words by bouncing lightly on his knees. “Every time I move something else pops or cracks.” 

“I told you to get a new bed,” Kate tossed over her shoulder. “The floor may literally be better. Do you need to come stay at my place? Lucky’s already there. It’ll be a party.”

He made a sound at the back of his throat. “Eh, you know I just beat it back into submission.” Clint dragged a hand through his hair; the ends now sticking up worse than before. “I make it my duty not to meet your three-month stands, Katie. Besides, I do great on my own. Finally got a sturdier box for my TV.”