When they were over all of this and Clint was feeling extremely better than he was right in this moment? Phil was going to get an apology. "That's good to know next time you tell me to do the dishes." Clint watched Phil for a moment, waiting for him to get his buttons pushed one too many and tell him to get out. It was what he was expecting after the first couple hours of Clint arguing with him to the point where he was sure he saw a vein popping out of the man's forehead. But still, Phil said nothing. He let whatever Clint spun at him roll off and even quipped back at times. But he didn't seem angry with him.

Huh.

"What? No...fuck." Clint didn't want to be near a human population during this. Let alone in his friend's apartment, where the capability of getting out was too much of a risk. "With violent insurgents you don't have to worry about them breaking out and eating you, Phil." He did have to worry about them breaking out and shooting him, but he figured the wolf would be faster. He knew it was going to be. He didn't want to risk it. Clint rolled to his feet before heading into the kitchen and moving to grab Phil's dinner before heading back into the room, holding it out to him. He quietly offered up either a fork or chop sticks. Whichever the other man preferred, really.