"Oh no," Clint groaned as he emptied his bag onto the bed. "No, no, no, no, no!" he kept mumbeling and Tony wandered out of the bathroom, still drying his hair with a towel.
"What's wrong?" he asked him but before Clint could answer Bucky and Steve wandered into the room.
"It's all your fault!" Clint accused them, stabbing a finger in each muscled chest.
"What's our fault now?" Bucky asked, while Steve looked at Tony for help, but Tony only shrugged and slightly shook his head.
"I've been buying the wrong underwear," Clint told them and shoved one of the three packs he bought into Bucky's face.
"This is your size. Yours! How can I even forget my own underwear size?"
"You can still wear them? They are streatchy after all," Steve pointed out, while he took the pack from Clint's hands and before Clint could protest that, because he most definitely could not, Tony spoke up.
"Actually, that's a bit difficult. They pinch in all the wrong places. We value the blood flow to our dicks."
Bucky frowned and Steve looked back and forth between the pack in his hands.
"You have tiny waists," Clint finally explained, "and while your butts are glorious, they are also very tiny. We're not like that," he motioned towards Tony and himself.
"You can always bring them back, you know?" Tony tried to appease him but Bucky had a different idea.
"Or. You could just stop wearing underwear. It's easier access for us," he said and slid his hands under Clint's jeans.
"Or we could try that," Clint agreed and then the underwear packs were forgotten.