Clint is a very sleepy-zombie when he wakes in the morning, but whenever he goes to get some coffee, Steve's already in the kitchen, snarfing down delicious breakfast.
Which he shares, of course, otherwise Clint wouldn't put up with his chatter so early in the morning. Today Steve talks about… uh, he hasn't been paying attention.
The coffee maker is horribly slow. Almost like it's doing it on purpose.
"I need to meet more people, make more friends."
"Mhm." Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. "Come on, coffee."
"I read on the internet that guys have guy friends they do guy stuff with."
"Mhm." Drip. Drip. Drip.
"Go to a game."
"Mhm." Drip. Drip.
"See a movie."
"Have a threesome."
"I said, have some toast."
"Yeah… thanks, Cap."
"Hawkeye, status," Steve's voice crackles over the comms.
"Bogies coming in from your three o'clock."
Clint shoots, mind still half fuzzy. He hasn't even had time to finish his first mug of coffee before the alarm sounded. Aw, coffee. It ended up spilling all over his t-shirt.
And Steve had to leave all that incredible mouth-watering french toast behind… wait a minute.
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