Clint Barton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
barton_me) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
all_inclusive2015-01-24 10:17 pm
barton_me) wrote in all_inclusive2015-01-24 10:17 pm
Entry tags:
i'm breaking through to you
It had been a couple of weeks since his birthday. God he was old.
Well, not really, he supposed; he was in peak physical condition. Being scrawny as a kid did that to you; after he hit puberty, all he wanted was to be big and strong. He got over it eventually, but he kept himself in the peak of health for the sake of his job and his own survival. But emotionally, he felt worn down, and it wasn't pleasant.
Natasha, for a woman who disliked something so acceptable as Christmas, had deemed his birthday worthy of celebration. That was one of the cute things about her, normally hidden underneath the very thick layer that was prowling seductress and living weapon, and he was grateful to have her around. He didn't see what was so important about a birthday and he had more or less grown out of it after he'd turned twenty-one and could legally drink. Even though it had been strange for him, he'd celebrated with her. It was the least he could do.
Forty-two years old. Good lord. He should be older, technically, since Natasha was in the future; did his age, right then in the hotel, even really matter? Things were getting mixed up, so he did his best to ignore it and just continue on as if nothing weird was happening. He'd worked out in the gym for a good hour before showering it off and then wandering outside. There was some sort of carnival going on, which he wasn't hugely interested in; but parts of the lawn were nice and chilly, and good to cool down in. Also good to cool down the piping hot pizza he'd ordered. He didn't work out to lose weight, so the idea of not eating terrible food only occurred to him when he considered heart health (and, to be frank, he never survived longer than a week on vegetables).
He sat on the edge of a part of the lawn that had a cool, chilly breeze on one side and a sultry heat on the other - it was pretty cool how strange the weather was here - and relaxed, enjoying the fact he got to lounge around beside an entire pizza and not feel like he ought to be doing something else. It was weird being jobless, but not unpleasant. It was also kind of nice to not have the pressure of the fate of the world hovering over his head; he just had to worry whether or not Natasha was glum, and as far as he knew she was in high spirits these days.
Well, not really, he supposed; he was in peak physical condition. Being scrawny as a kid did that to you; after he hit puberty, all he wanted was to be big and strong. He got over it eventually, but he kept himself in the peak of health for the sake of his job and his own survival. But emotionally, he felt worn down, and it wasn't pleasant.
Natasha, for a woman who disliked something so acceptable as Christmas, had deemed his birthday worthy of celebration. That was one of the cute things about her, normally hidden underneath the very thick layer that was prowling seductress and living weapon, and he was grateful to have her around. He didn't see what was so important about a birthday and he had more or less grown out of it after he'd turned twenty-one and could legally drink. Even though it had been strange for him, he'd celebrated with her. It was the least he could do.
Forty-two years old. Good lord. He should be older, technically, since Natasha was in the future; did his age, right then in the hotel, even really matter? Things were getting mixed up, so he did his best to ignore it and just continue on as if nothing weird was happening. He'd worked out in the gym for a good hour before showering it off and then wandering outside. There was some sort of carnival going on, which he wasn't hugely interested in; but parts of the lawn were nice and chilly, and good to cool down in. Also good to cool down the piping hot pizza he'd ordered. He didn't work out to lose weight, so the idea of not eating terrible food only occurred to him when he considered heart health (and, to be frank, he never survived longer than a week on vegetables).
He sat on the edge of a part of the lawn that had a cool, chilly breeze on one side and a sultry heat on the other - it was pretty cool how strange the weather was here - and relaxed, enjoying the fact he got to lounge around beside an entire pizza and not feel like he ought to be doing something else. It was weird being jobless, but not unpleasant. It was also kind of nice to not have the pressure of the fate of the world hovering over his head; he just had to worry whether or not Natasha was glum, and as far as he knew she was in high spirits these days.
no subject
Thor was in high spirits. The yule festivities and the coming of the new year was always a time of great joy for him and this year had been no exception. He had his mother and his woman and, well, his brother and that had been a happier holiday than most. Most of his close friends were here in the Nexus as well - Steve, Sif, Natasha.
And not-so-close friends, like Clint, though Thor hoped to remedy that. "Are you well?"
no subject
"Hey, man," he greeted, jovially. It had been some time since he'd seen Thor around the hotel, but he trusted he hadn't come to harm. That was probably the perk of being immortal. "Well enough. I've got pizza, but no beer. I guess that's life though."
no subject
"Pizza, I think, is one of the greatest things about Midgard. I could feast on it for every meal and never get tired of it."
no subject
He hadn't bothered to invite Thor to sit with him because he assumed the other man knew he was welcome to linger as long as he liked; when Clint didn't like people and he was being paid to act like it, he made his opinions easily known. Despite being a spy, Clint preferred to keep everything relatively straightforward, and he didn't hide much from his companions. Once trust was earned, he kept to it. "Have a piece, or several," he added.
no subject
"Have you been back to New York recently? Or have you remained here?" Thor went back and forth often, though his recent trips through the doors had taken him to Asgard and not Midgard.
no subject
New York was not his favorite place to be, anymore, which was a shame, because during calm times he quite liked living in it. "I've been out and about," he said, carefully, "not in New York, but elsewhere, before I ended up here. I think it's more beneficial for me to remain here for the time being. In any case, I like to keep an eye on Nat."
no subject
"I think she can keep both eyes on herself," Thor said. His voice rung with both approval and appreciation; Natasha was one of the most skilled warriors he had ever met in his considerable time on both Midgard and Asgard.
"You work better together, though, don't you?"