bettercallit | (no subject)

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☎ Call.
✉ Voicemail.
⌨ Text.
✔ Action.

He's either far too nice or you're actually good.

[ But to the point, because the risk is worth it. ] Wanna teach me the basics? 'Cause if I have to suffer another lecture on all the ways not to ruin pans then I'm ready and willing.

I'm good. Not amazing, but my chicken pot pie? Pretty sweet.

[ Raising an eyebrow. Teaching Hawkeye to cook? Hell yes. ] Sure. We could start small. What do you know how to do?

You and me? Cooking lessons. [ But maybe there should be a fire extinguisher on standby.

Shrugging. ] Toast counts, right? Warming stuff up. And my dialling finger? Could take an unsuspecting victim down.

Toast and take away sometimes work yeah, but if you need to figure out something a little more substantial, I can help.

[ He's quiet for a second, because it's all Phil's fault - he wants to prove to him that he can take care of himself and others. Cooking something proper? It's a start. ] Start slow. The apartment's growing on me, don't want to have to get a new one.

What about an omelette? Easy enough and it's doubly delicious for you and y'know, whoever you're making them for.

[ Like your government agent boyfriend, okay? ]

[ Clint will neither confirm nor deny these accusations. ]

Eggs. I can do eggs. Right?

Yeah, I mean, there's the possibility of food poisoning but I'll make sure you get it right.

Food poisoning. I'll stock up, prepare for the worst.

Yeah, make sure you take a trip to the pharmacy.

You doing anything tomorrow?

Uh, besides staring at the wall? Not much.

I'll stock up. Early afternoon?

Sure thing. Do you want me to come over to yours? I don't know how terrifying the kitchen is here.

It's probably a safer bet over at mine. I'll even clean it.

Okay. So I'll come over and we'll try not to kill anyone!

[ Laughing, Clint ruffles Stiles' hair and pushes himself up onto his feet. ]

If we fail, I know how to clean up good.

That is kind of freaktastic, but okay.

It's okay. [ He takes a step or two away, turning back. ] I like you. You're safe.

[ Fist pumping. ] Success.

[ Laughing, Clint turns back to head off, shouting over his shoulder. ] It's an honour, kid, I don't like just anyone.

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