So, I feel like I need to put this here before you keep reading: this fic will be around 90% texting (+ snapchat, phonecalls, and possible skype / facetime) while the other 10% will focus on real life interactions, as you'll see in this chapter. Oh and all of the chapters are written in Clint's POV. Also it looks way better on ao3 than it does on here - apparently it doesn't like too many spaces, or question marks, which is why this looks so squashed together. I'm under the exact same pen name on ao3 if you'd rather read it on there.
Clint | Pietro | Nat
and this .... means that someone is still typing. Clint owns an iPhone.
TUES 5 MAY
[7:21PM]:
look how big it is
Clint stares down at the text in confusion. He was really only gone for a minute, if that. He went upstairs, changed out of his sweaty work clothes and into clean ones (the jeans have holes in the knees, and the red plaid shirt is well past its expiration date, according to Nat) but he was really only out of the room for a minute. Maybe three or four, tops.
When he returned to the kitchen, he was greeted by a chorus of chimes.
(14) New Messages
He doesn't recognize the number, but still unlocks the screen with a single swipe. He flicks through the messages, starting from the top and making his way down slowly. The first six or so messages are just pictures, and Clint is admittedly surprised. Of all things, he wasn't expecting pictures of, well, that ugly thing.
It's a fluffy white kitten.
Well, there's more than one. Each photo is of a new kitten, and Clint really isn't keeping count of how many. He keeps skimming through the pictures.
Sad, beady eyes stare back at Clint as he flicks from image to image, and the small crease on his brow grows into a fully formed frown. Clint pauses to rub at his temple, and wonders if somehow Nat-or Stark, he wouldn't put it past either of them-had something to do with this.
Clint scrolls down to the recent text messages, and his confusion only continues to grow. He almost laughs. Almost.
[7:26PM]:
i like the one with the spots
[7:26PM]:
the tiny one
[7:26PM]:
in the fourth picture
[7:26PM]:
wanda? ? ? ?
[7:27PM]:
i thought you would like them
[7:27PM]:
which one do you like
[7:28PM]:
wanda ? are you still upset with me
For another long moment, Clint just stares down at the screen blankly. He's startled by the noise of another incoming text – the sharp chime is shrill and he's never really liked the sound all that much, so it's no surprise when he jolts slightly at the sound. He really wants to change that message tone, now more than ever.
[7:31PM]:
what about the one with the green eyes? wanda? ? ?
[7:31PM]:
Wrong number, pal.
[7:31PM]:
you are not wanda?
[7:32PM]:
No, I am not.
[7:32PM]:
oh
[7:32PM]:
no matter. which one do you like?
[7:33PM]:
....
[7:34PM]:
I don't like any of them.
[7:34PM]:
And I don't have time for this.
[7:34PM]:
i like the one with the spots
[7:35PM]:
Right.
[7:35PM]:
why do you dislike them
[7:35PM]:
Why are you still messaging me?
[7:35PM]:
you did not answer my question
[7:36PM]:
And I'm not going to.
Clint switches his phone to silent and sets it back down on the counter. He really doesn't have the time, or the patience, to deal with any of this. Instead of checking his phone for a reply, Clint grabs two beers from the fridge and collapses on the couch. He flicks on the most recent Bourne movie, and pretends that there aren't boxes and boxes stacked full of Laura's stuff in the front bedroom, waiting to be picked up.
THURS 7 MAY
[9:02AM]:
I take it we're still on for this weekend.
[9:16AM]:
Jesus.
[9:16AM]:
nope, just Nat.
[9:16AM]:
;)
[9:17AM]:
Why are you up this early?
[9:18AM]:
And why are you so chirpy. It's sickening.
[9:18AM]:
Also, you woke me.
[9:20AM]:
you love it, Barton.
[9:23AM]:
Normally, I do. Right now? Not so much.
[9:24AM]:
so, are we on or not?
[9:24AM]:
Not.
[9:25AM]:
scared I'm going to kick your ass again?
[9:25AM]:
which I will, by the way.
[9:28AM]:
Laura's stopping by to get the rest of her stuff.
[9:30AM]:
oh
[9:31AM]:
....
[9:31AM]:
I had no idea it was that bad.
[9:32AM]:
I'm handling it.
[9:33AM]:
talk later?
[9:33AM]:
Uh huh.
[9:34AM]:
....
[9:34AM]:
I never really liked her anyway.
[9:35AM]:
Liar.
[9:36AM]:
You liked her. We all liked her.
SAT 9 MAY
It's pissing down rain by the time Clint makes it back to the farmhouse.
He just manages to escape the hail: thick chunks of ice hit the ground as Clint ushers Lucky inside, shutting the screen door behind them. Clint fetches a towel and pats the golden lab down, scratching under his belly, and behind his ear, affectionately. Once he's dry, Lucky curls up on his small bed by the door, and Clint's halfway up the stairs when an alert loudly goes off on his phone.
Sighing, he pads back to the kitchen and picks the phone up off the table.
[3:15PM]:
did you decide?
[3:16PM]:
Why did you keep my number?
[3:16PM]:
what do you think of the one with green eyes?
[3:16PM]:
I don't care.
[3:17PM}:
Did I mention how much I don't care?
[3:17PM]:
Because I don't.
[3:17PM]:
so you are not a cat person.
[3:18PM]:
....
[3:22PM]:
No.
[3:22PM]:
it took you that many minutes to type "no"? ? ?
[3:23PM]:
Dial it down a notch, pal. One question mark is enough.
[3:23PM]:
we are pals?
[3:23PM]:
I take it back.
[3:24PM]:
We aren't pals.
[3:25PM]:
what did you think of the fluffy white one, pal?
[3:25PM}:
Again, with the pal thing. And the question marks.
[3:25PM]:
Why did you save my number?
[3:25PM]:
?
[3:26PM]:
it is fun
[3:27PM]:
Well, the fun stops now. Stop asking me questions about kittens.
Clint winces at his reply, feeling every bit like an old man - the fun stops now. He shakes his head, and again almost finds himself laughing at how ridiculous all of this is. He's seconds away from heading upstairs again when his phone chimes and Clint rolls his eyes in anticipation of the response.
[3:34PM]:
you are very grumpy. perhaps you should nap, old man