Basically, the answer to this is that Clint should get out of here. He shouldn't cook a meal for a guy who comes from a crime family. But he shouldn't have used a stranger's shower, either. He shouldn't have followed a random guy off the street into his apartment.

Clint's throat tightens in panic, for a second, and he breathes.

The eggs, now.

He breaks them, tosses them in and prods them around while the yolk and white solidify. "So," he says, "how do you feel about Special Forces, then?"