daredevilkink | Prompt Post #2

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(Whoops, I didn't mean to continue this, but Clint wouldn't leave me alone.)

"So, you mentioned knowing another superhero..."

Clint and Foggy were in the latter's apartment, Foggy on the couch and Clint perched on the back of the couch. They were now plus Everclear and minus bleeding wounds, and after Clint had assured him that he didn't have a battle to run back to, decided they needed some pizza in their lives. Pizza made everything better, after all.

(This had led to storytime about pets, and Clint had fought with his fancy StarkPhone until he could locate the picture gallery to show off a hundred some odd shots of a yellow lab before Foggy told him about the adventures of his pet hermit crabs as a kid.)

Over the last two hours (and where had the time gone?), Clint had already gotten used to the man's warm, welcoming smile, boisterous laugh, and ready quips. The smile Foggy gave him now, however, made him uneasy: for all that the corners of his lips lifted up, the rest of him immediately sagged down. "Yeah... a fr—a guy I know. Kind of know. Massive hero complex, less massive sense of survival, and a penchant for dark leather and darker danger. No, I'm not going to tell you who," he added quickly.

Clint's mouth twitched. "You know I could find out pretty easily already."

"Hey, come on, at least give me the illusion of privacy!" Foggy complained.

Spreading his arms open wide, Clint gestured around at Foggy's living room, soundlessly mouthing, Privacy?

Foggy pointed at him. "Shut up and eat your pizza, or I won't let you have any booze next time."

That one threw the archer, and he lowered his arms, blinking. "Next time?"

Foggy blinked back. "Yeah, dude. You know where I live and that I have everything short of a surgical suite, so you're welcome anytime Hell's Kitchen bangs you up. Or, you know, if you're not banged up. My window's always open."

Clint snorted, but he couldn't help the pleased smile spreading across his face. "What, I'm good enough for the window but not the front door?"

"Based on past experiences, I just assumed you superhero types were allergic to doors."

"I'm not really a superhero," Clint protested automatically. "I'm just a guy with good aim who runs around with superheroes. No magic, no government experimentation, no mutant gene, nothing."

"Okay, no—no selling yourself short in la casa de Foggy," Foggy retorted.

"I'm not s—"

Foggy cut him off, waving a hand impatiently. "Running around with them implies you can keep up with them, and good aim kind of counts for a lot in your line of work. And hell, the fact that you go out there and do the things you do to begin with—you don't need to turn into a fireball or the Jolly Green Giant to be a superhero."

"Yeah, let's not compare me to Johnny Storm," Clint drawled, smirking. "I think I'm a little more put-together than that punk."

"I found you in a dumpster."

Clint winced. "Okay, you... fine! I concede defeat."

Foggy patted his knee. "Yeah, you're going to be doing that a lot, pal."

ha! clint, do not argue with foggy. he's only looking out for your best interests... and besides, he's a lawyer and you will never win. :)

Prompt Post #2

[¿MINI?-FILL] Gosh, I Love Heroes [2/?]

Re: [¿MINI?-FILL] Gosh, I Love Heroes [2/?]