For Thor (stopmjolnirtime)

[cognitive_recalibration]

From here

It’s not every day you get someone promising to beat down death’s door to rescue you from it, so please excuse Clint’s shocked, mooneyed face for the next several minutes.

He’s been living his life wrong, he decides, only slowly returning to chewing so that he doesn’t choke on the lump of pizza in his mouth. Why has he never gotten to know Thor outside of Avenging? The guy is beyond sincere and obviously a pretty great guy under the princely visage.

Maybe that’s because Clint Barton is not a good guy. He’s been doing his best to change that for years now but you don’t just clear a slate of evil deeds overnight. He honesty never may. Until a few moments ago, he’d been sure that the only person he honestly matters to was Tasha.

Phil’s gone after all.

Damn.

Damn, he doesn’t like feeling itchy like this. He decides it’s the dried blood and drops any other thought or reason for the sudden tingle.

“Uh. Wow. You know, that’s the coolest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Comments

That would have been hilarious. Clint would have made the biggest frownie face

[cognitive_recalibration]

Relieved that he won’t have to shimmy into Jane’s old things, Clint isn’t really paying attention to what’s happening when Thor kneels down to peer at his abdomen. He doesn’t jump or jerk back but his skin does tremble involuntarily at the gentle touch.

“It’s fine,” he says, clearing his throat. “Let me get some pants on— Ah, maybe sterilize some scissors. I could use the help pulling these out.”

Thor is very hands on. Clint doesn’t actually mind but he’s not used to it.

“I keep a sewing kit on me. All times,” he laughs, stepping back to shut the door on Thor. Because WOW it’s hot in here.

Poor buddy, another time, maybe.

[stopmjolnirtime]

"Mm? Ah, sure." Thor stands to step back, offering Clint his privacy. There's a first aid kit somewhere in the room, all of them have something stashed away. He hasn't touched it since he first started sleeping here since he had yet to be injured so grievously as to require mending.

So it does take a moment for him to remember, rooting around cabinets near the coffee maker before he comes up with the kit- tweezers, scissors, and disinfectant, before knocking lightly on the door once more. "I've found the first aid kit."

[cognitive_recalibration]

“Gonna be honest with you, Thor, I’m not sure I’m going to really like this part.” Usually after he sews himself up, he gets it removed pretty quickly and actual surgical thread or staples replace it. This is a new deal.

He gives his little jagged purple line a frown once more before he puts on the pants and cuffs them three times. Embarrassing. He needs to pull the drawstring tight and could probably tie the crossed cord at his back. Even more embarrassing.

With a sigh, Clint presents himself.

“All right. Let’s make sure I’m a real boy and not a Ragdoll.”

[stopmjolnirtime]

"I...don't have any painkillers. But I do have mead?" That might help, he thinks, to at lest put Clint in an easier mood to bear the discomfort that's about to occur. He could just start picking away but-

The idea of doing anything to cause pain in a friend outside of agreed upon sparring or pranks or jests? Sits ill with him. Thor frowns down at that little line of purple tucked in and out of Clint's skin and knows it cannot remain- infection is a problem for Midgardians, millions of little illnesses or injuries and potential problems exist.

Even if he hates to think of them.

[cognitive_recalibration]

“It’s cool, Thor. Really, I can handle a little bit of weird seam ripping.” He did just get shot and he was able to survive that and stitching himself up afterward. Clint tosses himself on the couch, just giving it a glance to make sure it’s not bloody, before he thinks better if it.

Maybe not the couch.

Coffee table then? That can be cleaned up so much easier.

[stopmjolnirtime]

"As you like." Thor only frowns a little at the idea, collecting the kit and patting the coffee table for Clint to sit. Once settled? Disinfectant for the skin and thread, the tweezers, the scissors as he considers the best way to go about this. "Hold onto my shoulder and squeeze when it becomes uncomfortable."

There, that'll work. Maybe. It's not as though Clint can hurt him, at any rate.

"Ready?"