#hkfallensaint

@magikldreams asked: you can't see. i can't hear. all we're missing to our trio is someone who can't speak. where's black bolt? (clint to matt)

The bite of muffin that had already been too much almost killed him, instantly regretting the slurp of coffee to try and minimize the damage. Hot, dammit, wondering if this were some divine punishment for his actions this week. When he finally managed, Matt's hand blindly swatted in the direction of Clint before finding bicep and punching it as he wheezed.

'Moved from the moon to...' He hadn't been actually asking, forgot that when he'd been one poorly timed inhale from dying. 'Wish you were Blackbolt right now...'

What had they been talking about before Clint's old history had crept up on them both and the archer attempted to assassinate him? Something about track suits, at least he was hoping that was what he'd muttered, because the other option was weird even for him.

seeds gathered from here // @piinkviscera

The smile on his lips is easy, with the briefest of nods to acknowledge the silent reminder that they were meant to be professionals. It was nice, and he could do that.

'I appreciate that you didn't just hold it out and expect me to be psychic.' Lifting his own, he shrugs a shoulder. 'I mean if you'd prefer a spartan handshake we can do that instead, but either way just meet me in the middle.'

In more than just the handshake, he could smell the sickly sweet scent of rot and familiar perfume that had been used so often it had settled like brackish water at the bottom of a well in the pores.

'How bad is she, I read the report from the scene but...'