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  1. Tags
    Summary

    Bucky and Clint end up alone at the compound while everyone else is out on a mission.
    Shenanigans ensue.
    ///////////////////

    “Barton.”

    “OHMYGOD!” Clint shrieked and froze mid step, mouth agape, eyes wide, holding a giant sandwich in one hand and a fruity looking drink in the other. “Oh my god. Frosty, my man you scared the shit outta me. What are you doing?”

    “No no.” Bucky shook his head and squinted at the drink, at the quintuple layered sandwich, at the way Clint had gotten all six foot three of himself into ratty purple sweatpants and crop top that definitely belonged to Natasha. “What are You doing?”

    “Hanging out.” Clint said, as if that explained anything at all. “What does it look like?”

    “It looks like you’re gettin’ drunk at half past twelve in the afternoon.” Bucky pointed out. “Caterwaulin’ to some awful song, wearing stolen clothes and about to eat enough food to put you into a coma.”

    “Is it only half past twelve?” Clint looked faintly surprised, then shrugged it off. “Welp. It’s gotta be five o clock somewhere. Wanna get drunk with me?”

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