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“Are you serious? Last week I had a knife wound in my thigh and you told me to man up and go to work. Now you’re not letting me leave the house because I have the sniffles?” Quinn rolls his eyes as Clint presses onto his chest, pushing him back onto the sofa.
“Hey! Flu is a serious threat, believe me. Besides, can you imagine what Stark would be like if he caught it?”
“Can you imagine what Stark will be like when he finds out my boyfriend is coddling me like a mother hen?” Quinn, and Clint barks out a laugh.
“This mother hen won’t cave to Stark’s teasing, especially when his boyfriend’s life is in danger.” The former SHIELD agent quips, and then grimaces, “Since when did we start using that word, huh? Just thinking it is enough to have the Natasha-that-lives-in-my-head call me an infant.”
“Partner? Mate-for-life? Snookums?”
“Stop that right now or you won’t be getting any homemade soup.”
“I don’t want any! I told you, I’m fi – homemade?”
“Alright, store bought…but heated with love.” Quinn huffs in an attempt to disguise his amused smile.
“Seriously, though, Clint. What’s with this? You know I’m fine, why can’t I just go to work?”
“Because last week you had a knife wound in your thigh and I told you to man up.”
“And…now you feel guilty?”
“Something like that.”
Quinn shakes his head – he doesn’t think he’ll ever understand the way Clint’s brain works. Then again, that’s probably why their relationship actually works in spite of it all.
“You know…now that I think of it, I am a little warm.” Quinn’s tone turns suggestive, and he adopts a distressed pose, “And there’s more than one way to sweat out a fever.”
“Oh?” Clint’s expression brightens as Quinn tugs on his arm, dragging the other man in for a kiss. It quickly deepens, and Clint braces himself against the back of the sofa, smiling as he moves his mouth to Quinn’s neck.
“Okay, Mr. Quinn. Prepare to be coddled.”