Badmouthing Tony Stark was a sport they could always both enjoy. It wasn’t that Clint didn’t like the man, he actually got along with him quite well and considered him a friend, but ragging on the billionaire still made for good sport. “Probably the only way to ensure he stop talking.” Tony had a comment for everything, time and place never mattered. Clint suspected he just loved the sound of his own voice so much he couldn’t help but fill every silence with it.

Getting to his feet, the archer barely made it a step before Natasha’s voice stopped him. He hadn’t asked a question, she didn’t have to say what she said; she was saying it because she wanted to, because she wanted him to stay. He stood silently a moment, his back to her and his brow furrowed before finally turning back and taking her outstretched hand. He didn’t want the distance either, probably why he hadn’t given the other cot a single thought before everything had gotten awkward. In their business they were exposed to the worst people and crimes the world had to offer on a daily basis, so at the end of the day it was nice to be close to someone, to feel that reassurance that not everyone was bad, that other people felt the horrors just as strongly.

“Okay,” Clint said quietly as he lay beside her again. Keeping her hand in his, he held it against his chest a moment, right over his heart, before finally slackening his hold so she could retract her hand if she wanted. “I’m not going anywhere.”