Clint is fired from the Avengers but not from S.H.I.E.L.D.. He is a marksman still and the best out there, so it is not a surprise to be called in on the helicarrier and be told they want him on a team. Pietro is not fully convinced. Clint has been taking missions for the organization just like half of the Avengers, but to join one of their teams is quite an exaggeration — even more if Natasha did sign up too. “You are hiding something from me.” Pietro says from his place on the couch. He is sorting through the channels, trying to find something at least interesting at the fastest speed the television lets him. It’s so slow it he barely looks at the channels. Clint is choosing his arrows carefully, even if S.H.I.E.L.D. will probably give him new ones, and refuses to look at him.
“I told you everything I know.” He mumbles, trying to decide between two of his weapons before deciding to take both. Clint puts them on his quiver and finally turns to Pietro and smiles. “Better yet, I told you everything I could.”
The fact he has only told Pietro he decided to join one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s team shows how much he is hiding from him. Pietro does not worry, however. He knows too well that a mission that has Natasha and Clint cannot go wrong unless they want to. Clint approaches him and cups his chin with one hand, guiding Pietro’s eyes to meet his, closer than before. Pietro scolds him because of it, refusing to be at least comprehensive. He never liked secrets and S.H.I.E.L.D. has too many. “Everything’s going to be fine.” Clint assures him, still smiling. Pietro’s scold only gets deeper.
“I am not worried.”
“Of course not.” Clint says and he is not being sarcastic, for once. He has this over confident smile that makes Pietro know, in advance, what he is going to say: “Because it’s nothing to be worried about. Bobbi wasn’t worried, for once. Neither is Natasha. Besides, it’s something to do.”
“I did not know Barbara was going with you. Also, we both know the Avengers will call you back.”
“Well, she isn’t.” Clint says and the smile shifts to be apologetic. How one can smile so much and in such different ways from second to second is beyond Pietro. Bobby Drake can do that too, but he mostly likes to act dumb about everything. Warbird told him all Iceman could do and without breaking a sweat, so Pietro guesses he must have a good reason to not show his full power to the world. “Not in this one, at least.” He pauses. “I guess. I know she is on the team too.”
How Clint can be so confident when faced with something so vague, no one knows. Pietro would be amazed if he didn’t know it was just stupid. However, instead of arguing about this complete lack of information, Pietro gets up and levels Clint with just one look. “Well, you are a grown up, so I believe you can make your own decisions. Or at least, that is what I say to myself every day.” He then smirks, because now is Clint who is scolding. “You are so funny.” He tells him before Pietro goes to the door in the blink of an eye, almost already late for his classes at Avengers Academy. “See you later!” Clint screams when he bolts out of the apartment, to reach the school minutes later.
.
Finesse is nervous again. She tells everyone she is fine and there’s no need to worry, but she is distracted and angrier than usual, making mistakes during training and practical lessons. Sometimes, Finesse hits the others too hard, as if trying to hurt them when there’s no threat. After Tigra tells her to stop for the day and clear her head, when White Tiger is spitting blood and ready to attack let her instincts and magic amulet take over, she turns to Pietro and asks him to talk to Finesse about her problems. Pietro glares at her to say he is trying, but Finesse will talk when she will talk; most of the times they spend an afternoon in silence. He’ll never coerce answers from her when they both know it would do no good. Pietro does not blame her for her distractions — no one there does, but they do not know Finesse likes him well enough to talk about it and take his advice on the matter —, mostly because Pietro has been there already and did all she is doing now. Any time now Finesse’ll open her eyes and see she’s not getting anywhere and her attitude won’t bring her friends back any time soon. Always learning from their mistakes; Finesse is so alike Pietro he would like to spare her the pain.
“Things changed.” Tigra says, suddenly next to him, and Pietro hopes he masked well his startle. He probably didn’t. “I remember when I thought six students were tough to teach.” Pietro looks at her and notices she still has much to say, but is lost in nostalgia. He understands her. He feels like the place is full of unknown faces. Few are the students Pietro knew well enough and fewer the ones he trusts. Karolina Dean and the two young children that came with her when she sought solace at the Academy after her teammates disappeared must be feeling the same. “You know, they were a mess and they were terrible, but they did well, in the end.” She looks to the floor, and if not for her fur, Pietro would be able to see the age finally reaching Tigra’s face. “We failed them.”
“We did.” Pietro agrees and sees Striker flying and trying his best to give orders that are not all too ridiculous. Lightspeed join him and they land to discuss something. They always worked well together and they supported each other when they needed the most, but now that they are few, they must feel like the world is against them. Pietro understands this feeling too well. Maybe, just maybe, the world is against them. “We must find the others as soon as possible. Someone must know where they are.”
Tigra, nods, but only talks after yelling at White Tiger and Power Man, who are now arguing about something. “Yeah.” She agrees, and then, after taking a second to look at the students, leans in and mumbles at his ear: “Hank thinks he has a clue to where they are. He believes he will have the location as soon as possible.
“I’ll stay this week to help him.” Pietro whispers to her and notices Karolina Dean is looking at them, eyes attentive and assertive. “Maybe we can go faster like this.”
Tigra notices the girl too and nods her head. “Sure. So I’ll leave for this week and go visit William. It has been a while and I miss him. Just as I know Finesse misses you.”
Pietro frowns. “I’m always here.”
“Yes, but it has been a while you stayed for the night.”
“Oh.” He says, and after a pause: “I did not notice.”
Tigra arches an eyebrow. “You didn’t—” She then stops and opens her mouth a little, surprised, before smiling wickedly. “Who is she?”
Pietro stops looking at the students to frown at Tigra. Her tail is making this movement that indicates she is curious or pleased. He does not know what logic she used to connect his absent and bothered comment with Pietro seeing someone, but she is not wrong. He does not like it, so he just arches an eyebrow and says: “I have no idea what you are talking about.” And seeing Tigra is still with that smile on her face, he adds: “But speaking of ‘she’s, how is Janet?”
He holds back a smile when her face crumbles, just for a moment before she composes herself. “You jerk.”
When she leaves, some students are looking at them. Pietro remembers of Laura Kinney, who would be scowling him for his words. Karolina Dean looks uncertain if to ask him what happened, but Striker urges her to drop it since conflicts between Pietro and Tigra are beyond normal. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the eyes of people he doesn’t know too well, Pietro ends the training session and goes to his own room.
.
The call comes after dinner. Pietro is reading a novel and trying to ignore the show Lightspeed and Striker are watching when Henry comes out of his laboratory, greets them and asks Pietro to come with him. Frowning, he shuts the book, gets up and follows Pym out of the room in the same velocity as the other man. Pietro feels Lightspeed and Striker’s eyes on him and tries to not turn and tell them they are doing a terrible job in spying them after they turn right on the hallway. He’s still looking to where he came from when Henry hands him a cell phone. “It’s Black Widow.” He says, head tilted to one side. He never worked very well with mysterious women — mostly because he never a liked an equation he couldn’t solve. “She asked to talk to you in private and away from the students.”
“That is too specific.” Pietro answers Henry, lifting an eyebrow. He is rather surprised Natasha Romanova would call him so suddenly, but it sounds like a mission — which is worse. If she’s working with S.H.I.E.L.D., he is more than sure it’ll go wrong and he’ll be in a lot of trouble. Yet, Pietro takes the phone, because of course he would.
“She said it’s confidential.” Henry says and then hesitates for a moment, as if to say something or to hear what it is all about, but decides to leave, shaking his head and saying he has problems enough. Pietro looks his old teammate’s back as he retreats for his lab before staring at the object in hands. There are too many questions running through his mind now, but he knows he’ll have to talk to the Black Widow to get the answers he wants. “Quicksilver.” He says in his most professional voice. “Good night, Natasha. What can I do for you?”
“Pietro.” Natasha says, probably nodding, with the same tone. “Are you alone?”
He looks at the hallway and sees Lightspeed and Striker looking at him, no cover and no excuse. With a wave of hand, he orders them to leave and, when they don’t, he simply asks for Romanova to wait. It does not take long enough to get to his room, the most secure place he has on the Academy, before he puts the phone back to his ear and tell Widow that they can talk right now. He answers her with all the confidence he can muster and tries not to think it’s anything related to his father or a member of his family. He also does not remember any problem he managed to create that needs S.H.I.E.L.D.’s or the Black Widow’s involvement, so he hopes it’s nothing to do with him and just a mission.
Or Barton, he thinks and leans on his desk, fighting the urge to sit down properly and hear the news. Not when it’s S.H.I.E.L.D. “What do you want?” Pietro asks, trying to not sound too rude. To mend, he questions, a softer voice: “Do you need me on a mission?”
As always, Natasha has thought on everything: “When you leave your room—” — Because of course she knows where he is — “You’ll say you were called to a mission, but you turned down because S.H.I.E.L.D. has nothing to do with you. You’ll say it’s confidential, yes, but you may mumble something about your father. If you want.” She pauses and Pietro hears some type of beeping sound. There is a shuffle and then Natasha says two things: “It is not about your father”. And— “He has been shot.” She says, her voice the most professional she can muster, just like the beginning of the call: a tone of boredom and coldness. That is when Pietro notices she is shaken, even though he does not know her that well: he can picture Romanova holding the phone with all her strength as he wanders around the helicarrier, trying her best to avoid people as she tells Pietro, of all people, about Clint, just like he can see the deepest frown on her face as she tries to understand how did this happened with Clint Barton.
On his side of the line, Pietro asks the very same question, mouth open as he tries to produce a response to her news. He has a thousand questions — about his condition, how many bullets, what happened etc — but feels afraid to voice them as much as he now is afraid to think how much Clint means to him. At that moment, too much. Pietro gives in as sits on the bed, feet bouncing up and down. He settles on a question, at last: “Why are you telling me this?” It’s when he notices his mistake. Cursing himself, Pietro remembers he should have asked of who Natasha was talking about. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Natasha, one more time, gives him two answers: “I have permission.” And, because Pietro is neither a victim, nor a witness, she gives him no mercy: “Because I know.”
Of course she knows. She is Black Widow, Natasha Romanova the spy, Hawkeye’s main ally, Clint’s closest friend and oldest lover. She is the reason he became a hero and the reason why he joined the Avengers. They have history, a way to get back to one another. Romanova is to Clint what Wanda is to Pietro and if Wanda knows without him telling her anything, how could he think Natasha didn’t too? Pietro feels stupid and his face is burning as he rubs his face with one hand. He sighs and asks her about Clint’s condition and hopes she is not smirking as she tells him everything she knows.
.
When Pietro gets out of his room already tired and in need of a run, Striker and Lightspeed are in front of him, looking at him expectantly. “Yes?” He asks, not exactly in a good mood. The teens or choose to ignore it or didn’t notice the unwelcome frown on his face. It could be either with teenagers and he never has the patience to wonder which one could be, but this night he is too short-tempered to even wonder about these kids’ choices and lack of attention towards anything. “What happened?” Julie Power asks. “Is it about the missing students?”
Pietro has no idea why Natasha would ever call him to tell him something like this. “No.” He answers, confused. “Why would it be?”
“Well, Laura said it was the Black Widow who brought her to the Avengers Academy.” Striker tries to explain their logic, which is as failed as everything he does. “We thought she had some clue about where Laura is.”
“I see. But why would she talk to me only?” They hesitate at this, looking at each other and thinking and Pietro could teach a lesson right there about not considering the obvious, but Clint has been shot and he needs to run and burn some of the worriedness out of his system. Lightspeed finds a way to keep their flawed line of thought: “Well, you know, Laura was Finesse’s best friend! And you are Finesse’s, um, mentor? Anyway, maybe she wanted you to help her investigate—”
“She did not. Besides, if she would be the one investigating, she would not need my help. Natasha would go to Tigra or to Pym. Or Hawkeye.” He internally flinches at Clint’s mention and tries his best to not look too much anxious. Lightspeed is observant when it comes to people and their feelings and Strikes is not a complete idiot, even though he does try a lot.
“Hawkeye’s not an Avenger anymore.” Striker remembers Pietro.
“Yes, that is why he would be perfect and they always worked so well together.” Pietro replies, thinking of ways to end this conversation or, at least, not mention Clint anymore. “Any other questions or may I be left alone for the night?”
Striker makes a face at Pietro’s proper use of English, and he glares back at the boy, not in the mood to his childishness every time Pietro uses perfect English. “So, why did she call you?” He asks instead, as blunt and as aggressive as ever. He never had the patience or enough seriousness to talk with Pietro. Few students did, actually. Power looks at him a little shocked, as if she wants to smack him on the head, because everyone knows she likes Pietro as much as Finesse. It is enough for him to use Natasha’s cover instead of telling them it’s none of their business.
“She wanted me for a mission.”
“And how did it go?” Powers asks and blushes a little at being just as curious as Striker, who looks shocked Pietro has any use to the famous Black Widow. Pietro smiles at her, a weak curl of lips that soon disappear. “It is confidential, but I told her I was not interested. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going for a run.”
.
It takes some time for Clint to return home, because S.H.I.E.L.D. decided that something was wrong and forced him to make all types of tests to see if he is fit to be in society again. It’s something neither Bishop nor Pietro leave him forget, because the organization isn’t that through, unless there’s a chance the agent suffered brainwash. As always, Clint smiles and never tells either of them anything. Not even to Rogers, who comes to visit and take him back to the Avengers, because of course they need him around. “He’s good and Steve trusts him—” Wanda tells him over dinner. Wonder Man is with them and listens her tell them this with attentive eyes and Pietro asks himself why she never married him. He loves her dearly; he always have. Janet is with them, but she hardly hears anything Wanda is saying since she is too busy pinching Pietro’s cheek and teasing him, saying she wished he was with them on this team. It would be fun to rattle Wolverine and Rogue. He’ll never tell her, but Pietro missed Wasp a lot. “—But he thinks he’s lying about what happened.”
“He probably is.” Janet says and sips her wine in the most elegant way. She reminds Pietro of older actresses. “It’s S.H.I.E.L.D., after all.” Wonder Man comments on that too, but Wanda’s eyes turn to Pietro and he just shrugs, avoiding to say anything. Clint isn’t telling him anything and Kate Bishop had already looked for Pietro to see if he told him anything. It only infuriated them both (and, for a moment, made him sweat, since he had no idea if she knew about them or not — she didn’t).
A week after, Clint sends Pietro a message for him to come to his house and bring beer and food. Pietro is having lunch with Lorna when his phone buzzes. She smiles when he stops what he is saying to see who sent him a text and then snorts when Pietro takes his time to text Clint back and ask him why should Pietro bring the food and the beverage when he can order both and have them delivered to his home. All he receives as an answer is ‘Pizza’n’booze’. Repeatedly. Lorna can’t stop laughing at Pietro’s face when the cellphone doesn't stop buzzing.
Close to dinner, that same day, Pietro arrives with enough boxes of pizza to make Clint happy, but brings no alcohol just to be annoying. As Clint makes a face and mutters something about him, Pietro only smirks and hands him a plate with food, ignoring the fact Lucky is trying his best to jump on the counter and eat all the pizza. Clint, however, does not take it. Only stares at it, his eyes lingering for far too long on the object as if he didn’t know what it is, before he looks up and says: “We need to talk.”
In a movement that Pietro will be proud of, later, he just puts the plate on the floor, lets Lucky take the pizza without even look at the dog triumphant face and answers him as he straightens: “Oh, so I know now why you asked for the beer.”
It’s not funny; it’s just a remark from someone who is shocked and, in a way, a little freaked out. Clint smiles a little and rubs the back of his neck to say he is feeling as much awkward as Pietro, probably asking himself why did he choose ‘we need to talk’ instead of any other phrase that would take them to the same conversation. Sometimes he is just too easy to read and Pietro assumes he does it on purpose. He can be a good enough liar to fool everyone but Natasha, but not today. Today Clint will be open and Pietro— Pietro’ll be something, alright.
He is still overanalyzing everything when he notices they have gone silent and the conversation they should’ve been having is lost in awkwardness and awareness. It is all kinds of pathetic, so he settles for sitting in one of the chairs by the counter and look in Clint’s eyes. Pietro makes a movement with his hand, unable to have the first word on this talk and Clint nods. “Right.” He says and starts to walk around the kitchen, looking at everything before deciding sitting on the couch is better. And it is. The distance is good enough so it won’t be as ridiculous as Pietro has imagined this to happen. He flinches at the many times he thought of them talking about this and looking into each other’s eyes. He could barely do this with Crystal and is glad he never had to go as far with Wanda, so he is glad Clint is just as terrible when it comes to expressing these types of emotions. “So, I have been thinking of what we have and— Uh— Well—” Clint goes silence and then shrugs.
Pietro rolls his eyes, and looks at the dog, Lucky, who is trying to get more slices of pizza. “There is no need to make a speech, Barton. Just tell me what you want and we will see from there.” He says, taking more food to give the dog, who licks Pietro’s fingers as a thanks. He makes a disgusted face and wipes it on the closest paper towel. “What I want?” Clint and then nods. “Okay.” He looks at Pietro for a long time before letting the words escape from his mouth. They are neither easy, nor reassuring, but they are what they are: “I want a relationship.” And it’s simple, just that: a relationship. Something Pietro already knew he wanted and that he wants too. Then, Clint blows up by complicating things: “Well, sorta.”
Pietro makes a weird sound in the back of his throat: “‘Sorta’?”
“Well. I want to have a relationship with you, but I suck at it. Y’know, badly.” Clint says, all in one breathe, and if Pietro wasn’t capable of doing the same, he would have missed everything. “I married Bobbi nine days after— And Nat and I were an item back in the day and— Okay, I suck on this, but I like you and I haven’t been with anyone for a long time and I— I— I—” He throws his hands up in the air, as if in defeat, and rubs his chest with one of them, without even noticing. Pietro almost flinches at the sight, for he knows Clint is rubbing where the bullets hit him. What we do when they are falling apart in front of the others, he thinks, is what makes us humans. Clint would never do something like that if he was aware of it, and Pietro feels suddenly grateful for being able to see this. Again. He’s grateful for being able to see Clint lick his wounds one more day as he makes a fool of himself and tries to fix his life and so many others.
It makes him happy to see all this. To keep seeing all this after such a close call. And yet Clint Barton is still standing, weak and a little vulnerable, and always confused.
He is— He is glad. Seven hells, Pietro Maximoff is glad.
And then, just to make things worse, Clint gives the final punch, finding the right word for what he is trying to say: “I— I want you.”
It is enough for Pietro to close his eyes and inhale deeply — not in anger, but overwhelmed with emotions he can’t name. He moves from the booth where he is sitting to the couch, as fast as possible. Clint does not seem to be surprised, but, then again, he never is. After so many years in the presence of each other, though they do not work as often as they did when they joined the Avengers, Clint never is surprised by Pietro’s speed, just like Wanda or Lorna or Crystal or Luna or Rogers or Tigra or Finesse or Henry Pym and it’s those people who matter. Who always mattered to him.
Clint is looking at Pietro with curiosity, probably waiting for his answer, but he cannot think of anything, else the bullets that pierced Clint’s body. There is something on Clint’s eyes that scream tiredness and it may be related to something someone must have done to him. But Clint can’t say anything and Pietro doesn’t want to hear it either. Not now. Still, it makes him want to find whoever did this to Clint and make him pay, like his father so well taught Pietro and how so many have done — him included. Pietro wants to say that he is a better person than that now, but truth is: he’s not. He never was. Yet, he does not press this questions, he doesn’t say anything, only looks at Clint. Clint must know what he is thinking, for he grabs Pietro’s wrist with delicacy and squeezes it a little, as if to say he is fine and whatever happened won’t happen again. It is one of the ugliest lies someone ever told Pietro and one of the few he ever wanted to believe.
“How many bullets?” Pietro asks, so softly it surprises even him, and does not move his eyes from Clint’s face even when the archer breaks the contact to look at his chest. Clint hesitates for a moment, not sure if this will prompt an argument, before saying, flinching a little: “Three.”
Pietro wants to be cold and professional; nod and say ‘I see’ like he did so many times with so many other people, but his eyes travel through Clint’s shirt as he tries in vain to see if he can locate them through the fabric. It is so easy to take him out; to hit Clint on a place that could kill him fast or not; to capture him like when it happened with the Avengers on Mars that it isn’t even funny. It’s unnerving; it’s scary. Even if Pietro does not have invulnerability, he is much more resistant than Clint, who died once.
Pietro feels the same way he felt every time Crystal and he were on the field: the type of dread that keeps him awake and makes him want to run until his shoes disappear and his feet bleed. They had a daughter and they were fighting for the world and Crystal could die. No matter how many times he hugged her after a mission, no matter how many times Pietro pushed her close to him when they were to fall asleep, it was never enough. He was in love with Crystal at that time and, as it looks like, he feels the same way with Clint; everything is easier to understand, but more difficult to deal with it. It still doesn’t stop him from freeing himself from Clint’s grasp, slowly so to not make him understand Pietro’s intentions wrongly, and sits on his lap, their chests touching when he bends to kiss him. Clint is confused, of course he is, but he doesn’t deny it, doesn’t back away from it. His lips open when Pietro’s tongue sweep them the first time, asking to enter his mouth.
They kiss slowly, a trait that cannot describe either of them, and they do it with all the passion they can muster. Clint is quick to grab Pietro’s waist and pull him closer to his body, as close as he can get. When they pull away because Clint is doesn’t have any more air in his lungs, Pietro uses this time to put their foreheads together and to breathe in Clint’s scent that now smells more of hospital’s beds than the usual brewed cheap coffee and wax he uses to clean his bow’s strings. Clint smells sick and his body is tired and tense, all at the same time. Pietro touches Clint’s chest, looking for the bandages that wrap his wounds. They cover his whole abdomen and Pietro has to wonder: How someone shot you thrice? The idea of someone hitting him like this is absurd. Clint is one of the best. “How did they do this?” Pietro asks without thinking and then wonders if it looks like he is trying to change the subject when he isn’t. He isn’t. He never could, now that he has everything he wants so close he just needs to reach and get it. “I never heard of you being so reckless.”
“It’s classified information.” Clint tells him, displeased with the fact he still doesn’t have an answer. “And I screwed up.” Pietro lifts an eyebrow, not believing what Clint is trying to make him believe. The mission may be classified, but the how they shot him can’t be, too. “You seem to be doing this a lot lately.” Pietro comments and, yes, he is talking about the whole incident that managed to get him fired from the Avengers.
“I know.” Clint says, annoyed. “Pietro you didn’t answer me.”
True. “Clint—” But, as always, he is cut off by the other, who likes to hear his own voice when having an important conversation with another person. And screwing them up, as it seems: “No, I won’t back down, because I really need to know. We agreed on talking, but only me said something and it sucks. You’re making me feel like an idiot. And I—” And he keeps talking, does not stop, does not shut up, does not dare to catch a breathe, probably scared of Pietro’s answer if he doesn’t give arguments to make him accept, when all he needs is to kiss Pietro again and assure he won’t die next week.
Also, Clint is wrong. Pietro does not make him feel like an idiot. He already is.
Cursing himself for choosing such wrong option for someone to love, Pietro shushes Clint Barton with a kiss, the only way he knows it works and that won’t turn into an argument — sometimes. It’s as slow as the others, but this time he lets Clint’s tongue brush against his and invites it to his own mouth, vibrating only a little to make the archer gasp. And when he does it, Pietro uses the silence for his advantage. Still kissing, he moves on Clint’s lap and brushes their crotches together, just because he can, and his hands find the mess that is Clint’s hair. Clint relaxes enough to grab one of Pietro’s ass cheeks and to pull him closer to thrust until Pietro has to break the kiss to gasp. He directs Clint’s mouth to his neck and urges him to bite him, to bite him hard and keep the rhythm. That’s not what he wanted, to make out like teenagers on Clint’s couch, with Lucky eating all their food, to thrust back and lick the shell of Clint’s ear. After he bites down the man’s chin, he uses his hands to push Clint away from him. The man is panting, eyes dark and lips swollen and Pietro can’t stop himself from using his nails to scratch at one of his nipples, enough for him to whimper. Their crotches are still close, both of them hard and willing to talk later, but Pietro prefers to have sex with Clint after they are both on the same page. “We can try.” He says, and then corrects himself. “We will try.” They are both doomed, he thinks, when Clint sighs in relief and pulls him back to kiss Pietro senseless. As Pietro moves his lips to his neck, his fingers rubbing Clint through his pants, he whispers on his ear: “We’ll be great together, Pietro. I know that and I’ll prove it.”
There is nothing to prove, not really, but Pietro always liked Clint’s challenges. “Well—” He whispers back, lips moving and brushing on the soft skin of Clint’s neck, making him shudder. “We cannot get any worse than this.”
They kiss again.
.
Later, when they are actually eating — not pizza, because the dog is a monster —, Pietro thinks of something that makes him worry a little. “Clint?” He says. Clint, who’s sitting next to him, only looks up, too busy pushing all the food on his mouth before chewing it, nods for him to say something and completes it with a “Yesh?” that makes Pietro cringe when he sees all the food inside his mouth. Pietro was wrong; they will never work out.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He bristles, disgusted. This comment prompts another from Clint, that Pietro has no idea what he is talking about, but is willing to bet it’s something about how he eats his cheeseburger with a fork. He prefers to ignore. He does it a lot with Thomas and it always works. “Clint.” He starts again. “Natasha called me from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s helicarrier when you were shot. Does that mean that awful organization knows about us?” Clint blinks once, twice, and then starts chewing the food on his mouth faster. When he swallows it all, he says: “No, I don’t think so.”
There is a pause, where the only sound comes from the television. Not even Lucky dares to move. “So that means yes.” Pietro says, slowly.
“Yeah, probably.”