Abrupt and sometimes unwanted

Chapter 1, two tired partyboys

Clint in the story!
_______________________________

Steve was sitting at his desk, hammering away on his poor laptop. Clint was laying on his bedroom floor, legs resting on the edge of Steve's office chair,  his hands under his head, serving as  a makeshift pillow. It was tuesday, around 8 pm.

Steve was reminiscing on the glorious days (ten minutes ago), before his thunderstorm of friend had barged in through his window demanding this and that. He sighed deeply.

"Still hangover Stevie boy? That's gotta be one killer headache", Clint teased lightly.

"Shouldn't it have passed by now? Or are you just that lightweight?", he continued with a sly smirk

"Clint I'm serious right now, I HAVE to turn in this hot mess of an essay in...", He checked his wristwatch.

"Sweet mother of lord, 30 minutes!! I really don't have time for chit chatting with you, Tasha is waiting for you outside, I can literally see her impatience through the walls of this fucking house", Steve exclaimed. He brought his hands up to his head again, massaging his temples.

Good god his brain felt like the slime in a slime-video. You know, the kind you always stumble across on your instagram explore page. Where some nineyearold pours in plastic balls in the colorful goo and films their hands playing with it, that kind of slime.

"Fine, I'm going, but don't you think i will forget this betrayal....fool", Clint stood up with his hands up showing that he was surrendering, though with that smirk, still plastered on his face.

"I expect that you call me when you're done and then we will be here in +- 3 minutes", Clint counted his fingers. His black nail polish was chipping. Steve took notice. He was tempted to point it out but wished not to get punched on a lovely day like this...

Hmm night, he corrected himself. It would probably worsen his headache as well. Steve roose to his feet and ushered Clint towards the window. He stood by the opening, motioning for him to leave.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna call you later when I'm done", he said absentmindedly.

"Gosh you're such a pushover Steve, basically bullying me into leaving", Clint wore his best sad puppy face then ducked out the window.

"I'm gonna tell Tasha that you grabbed me and threw me out the window", he continued from the outside.

"You go ahead and do that, she too will know that you're just exaggerating.. I will call you in like 20 minutes, now go away", Steve closed the window before Clint could react, then shut the blinds.
_______________________________
Clint dragged his feet towards the car, Tasha was basically laying on the horn. He picked up a rock and chucked it towards the car to make her shut it up, unfortunately it hit straight on the right side, and made a small scratch on the passenger window.

She was going to kill him, Clint sniggered. The look on Natashas face when he entered the car, oooouff, priceless. all though she was apparently, just like him, too tired for an argument so they just settled to riding in silence.

In Clint's peripheral vision he could see Tasha shuffling in her seat. He frowned. He felt as if she wanted to say something- or something...he wasn't sure. Before his mind could travel any further she wacked him in the chest with her elbow. It hurt a lot and she'd just been waiting him out, looking for the perfect moment to strike. The girl was 50% evil and 50% raw beauty.

"Aowie you are so mean you know that? That's gonna bruise for sure", He exclaimed, hugging himself to protect his "wounded" area.

"That's for scratching my ride you moron", she wacked him again over the thigh.