( clint's not especially precious about the interior of his apartment, partly due to an upbringing that'd lent itself to that being a second-thought and partly due to the fact that worrying about that'd simply be an added stress he doesn't have time for.
he stays in the kitchen — it's the first quote-unquote room to the apartment — and though gorgug's discomfort doesn't escape him, he doesn't do anything special to set him at ease. instead, he leans against the kitchen island, mug half-raised to his mouth, as gorgug speaks. it's—
—not quite the spiel he's used to from teenagers. it's a little less certain, a little less sure, and clint doesn't miss the way that gorgug's gaze shifts from clint to apartment and back again, like he's trying not to be rude and hasn't quite decided how best to manage that. abruptly, as gorgug tails off, as he mentions aurora and talks about wanting to know "everything", clint winces. his coffee's cold, and cold coffee is uniquely shit.
he mms, the noise serving as acknowledgement more than anything else before he turns away, towards the sink. cold coffee down the drain, then a fresh pot on, and then they can talk—.
and so he doesn't answer gorgug's questions, not yet. instead, he looks over his shoulder back at him, and asks—. ) Coffee? Water? Don't really have much else. (much else is beer in the fridge, but gorgug's a kid and so it doesn't, for obvious reasons, get mentioned. he doesn't, either, move to take a seat at the island despite the chairs — gorgug can, although clint doesn't explicitly invite him to, he's not used to the necessity. it's not a deliberate lack of politeness, it's just being used to people with a certain inherent demand and command to them. )
no subject
he stays in the kitchen — it's the first quote-unquote room to the apartment — and though gorgug's discomfort doesn't escape him, he doesn't do anything special to set him at ease. instead, he leans against the kitchen island, mug half-raised to his mouth, as gorgug speaks. it's—
—not quite the spiel he's used to from teenagers. it's a little less certain, a little less sure, and clint doesn't miss the way that gorgug's gaze shifts from clint to apartment and back again, like he's trying not to be rude and hasn't quite decided how best to manage that. abruptly, as gorgug tails off, as he mentions aurora and talks about wanting to know "everything", clint winces. his coffee's cold, and cold coffee is uniquely shit.
he mms, the noise serving as acknowledgement more than anything else before he turns away, towards the sink. cold coffee down the drain, then a fresh pot on, and then they can talk—.
and so he doesn't answer gorgug's questions, not yet. instead, he looks over his shoulder back at him, and asks—. ) Coffee? Water? Don't really have much else. ( much else is beer in the fridge, but gorgug's a kid and so it doesn't, for obvious reasons, get mentioned. he doesn't, either, move to take a seat at the island despite the chairs — gorgug can, although clint doesn't explicitly invite him to, he's not used to the necessity. it's not a deliberate lack of politeness, it's just being used to people with a certain inherent demand and command to them. )
What d'you wanna start with? Etraya or Aurora?