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“Jingle bells,
Stark’s hair gel,
Coulson’s underpaid.
Cap’s a senior citizen and Tasha-”
“-has a blade,” Natasha said, aiming said blade at Clint’s head. “Shut up.”
Clint glared at the assassin but obediently stopped singing. Thor roared with laughter, the deep rumble of his voice filling the room. “It seems that the Lady Romanoff does not appreciate your ballad, friend Barton,” he said, clapping the archer on the back heartily. Clint stumbled forward from the force but quickly regained his balance, shooting Thor a downright murderous look. Or maybe that was just his resting face, Bruce couldn't really tell. “Don’t worry, I'll have you all singing by sundown,” the archer promised.
“I highly doubt that,” said Tony, sipping from a steaming mug of coffee.“Your songs suck ass.”
Clint turned toward the billionaire, giving him the evil eye. “Coulson, please educate this man on good music.”
Coulson glanced up from his paper but didn't say anything, instead clearing his throat guiltily.
Clint frowned.“Cap?” he asked.
Steve shifted uncomfortably, staring down at his feet, but his opinion of the remixed Christmas carols were blatantly obvious. Bruce could not help but agree with him. Clint gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Betrayal,” he hissed. “You do not see the awesomeness of my songs yet, but someday you will. You will!”
Natasha rolled her eyes. “I think that after three years of putting up with the ‘awesomeness’ of your Christmas songs, we have already permanently formed our opinion. ‘Itchy Santa’s Coming to Town’ ruined it for all of us.”
Steve murmured an agreement, which turned Clint's glare to him. The captain smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Clint.” he said.
“I hate you all.” Clint huffed, plopping down on the expensive couch. Tony fluttered his eyelashes at him. “Sure, honey. Just ask before you borrow my hair gel.” he said.