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

[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?"