Not nearly as adept at coming out of nowhere, Clint probably had plenty of time to brace himself before Tony run-leap-glomped him from behind. "Christmas is coming!" he announced unnecessarily.
âWell, it is December. Itâs a patternâŚalways seems to happen right at the end, doesnât it?â Clint grinned, leaning into the tackle, letting Tonyâs momentum carry him for a moment. âHi.â
âAwww, tiny one.â Clint grinned, shaking his head at Tonyâs joke. âYouâre a goose. Nom times?â
âNoooommmmmâ Tony fake-bit Clintâs shoulder. Â âAnd before you ask, of course I fed him before he zonked into his spaghettios. Â Seriously. We can have whatever we want, and he wants spaghettios. Â How?!?â









