He turns away from the door, facing the shower completely as he ignores Tony. “What the fuck did I say, Tony?” He snaps, arms crossing over his chest as he continues to face away from his husband. “Just go, man— go to your lab, alright? I don’t give a shit..” He does, obviously, but it’s no use arguing.
Tony’s always thinking, Clint’s surprised he doesn’t write down equations in his sleep— though, he might do that, too, and Clint just hasn’t paid attention. He can’t help it. But Clint stops being a little bitch for about a minute, enough time to turn around and look at Tony. “Go to your lab before you forget whatever the hell you came up with, alright? Be lucky if I can even get it up again..” He trails off and drops his towel, pulling the shower curtain back.
He wants to, which is awful, he thinks. He wants to go to the lab, but he's not in danger of forgetting anything, and Clint knows that, he must. Tony doesn't forget things, he starts a file on the servers remotely and dumps all the thoughts into it before he can.
"Clearly, you do give a shit, and so do I, so, please," Tony sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair, walking fully into he bathroom as Clint steps in the shower, "I'm sorry. It can wait. Let me kiss you and wash your hair and make this better."