Clint eventually reluctantly had to go back to work. Pietro was still very skittish and quiet, only speaking when spoken to.

Clint was eating breakfast with Pietro one morning before work. Pietro was especially quiet this morning, cupping the glass of water to his lips carefully.

Clint studied his features, smiling slightly. His pale white skin, his brownish silver hair, his pink lips. The boy was attractive. He wanted to kiss him, hold him, to be with him. To be his boyfriend. He knew that someone that wasn't even a legal adult yet would never go for him, but he still held out hope. Hope that maybe Pietro felt the same.

Pietro had grown too close to Clint. He had promised himself never to be close to anybody, to never love anyone other than his sister. To never trust anybody other than Wanda. He had broken those rules. He cared about Clint. He trusted him. Only time would tell when he would pay for his mistake. He knew something would happen to Clint, that he would come to his senses and kick him out or start hurting him like he deserved. Everyone did, so that must be his place in the world. To the world, he must be nothing more than a dog to abuse.

He slowly noticed that Clint was sitting on the floor before him, stroking his hair softly.

"What's wrong?" Clint wiped a tear Pietro hadn't know was there.

"I-I break rules. I no allowed to get close to someone, I do. I no allowed to trust people, I do. When are you going to make me leave, Clint? When you going to hurt me like all the others? You will hit me, Clint? Will you stop letting me eat? Please, just tell me. It is better than surprise." Pietro sobbed, shaking and rocking violently. He had so much energy built up, he wanted to run, to run and run and never stop.

"Never. I will never hurt you, I will never starve you or leave you. Net. That's how you say no in russian, right?" Clint pulled up a chair, sitting down, allowing Pietro to cry into his scrubs. He was going to be late.

Screw work.

Pietro nodded quietly in response to his question.

"Well, net to all of those things. I will never, ever hurt you."

"Do you promise?" Pietro was so small, so delicate, like a flower. Like a seedling, hardly a plant but beautiful. So helpless yet so strong.

"Yes, I promise." Clint held Pietro close, tears wetting his cheeks in empathy for the poor boy.

Clint and Pietro eventually separated, staring into each other's blue eyes. Maybe it was Clint that leaned forward first, maybe it was Pietro, but soon their lips were mere centimeters from touching, foreheads pressed together. Clint was about to close the gap,

And then,

The phone rang.

Shit! Shit, god dammit! Clint mentally cursed, standing.

Clint kissed Pietro on the forehead instead, the moment ruined.

"Aww, phone." He trudged angrily towards the phone mounted on the wall.

"I hate you." He pointed at the electronic before picking up.

"Barton residence, why the fuck are you calling?"

"Clint, wake the hell up. I know your dealing with 'private issues', but we need you to come in today. We're swamped." Claire's voice came through the phone.

"Oh, fuck you, too. Listen, I really don't think I can come in, though." Clint looked at Pietro. "Hold on a second." He told his boss.

He covered the receiver. "Can I go into work today? Will you be okay here?"

"Yes, yes. I will be fine." Pietro wiped his eyes. "Go."

"Alright, Temple, you're in luck. I'll be there in ten." Clint hung up.

He went to go change his top, returning in a matter of minutes. He fixed his purple hearing aides, smiling at Pietro.

He headed for the door, only to be stopped by the boy.

"Wait." The russian accent cut him off dead in his tracks.

Pietro hobbled as quickly as he could towards the man, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him. Now, it was nothing like the movies, with the fireworks and symphony playing in the background. This was real, this was here. There was no music, no pyrotechnic display. Simply Pietro and Clint, two pairs of lips, arms that knew exactly where to go. This was Clint's arms around Pietro's waist. This was Pietro's lips warm against Clint's. This was tongue, this was teeth clacking with force and passion. This was here, this was now. This had better not be a dream. Clint's arms tightened, pulling the boy closer, their chests flush against each other, Pietro's fingers intertwined with his hair.

Pietro finally pulled back, smirk pleasant on his face. "You didn't see that coming?"

He didn't see that coming.

Pietro's arms were still around his neck loosely, his bent fingers tickling Clint's spine. The boy ran his curled fingers through Clint's hair, making him smile. The archer kissed the back of the broken boy's hand.

"You like me that way, yes?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely."

Clint wrapped an arm under Pietro's, making it easier for him to limp to the couch. He sat next to the younger, taking in all of what just happened. He just kissed the most perfectly boy in the world. Oh my god, he just kissed the most perfect boy in the world. This had to be a dream. This couldn't be real, Pietro was just so good. Someone so pure wouldn't fall for Clint. Clint realized that he didn't care, he would just take this for what he could.

"I've gotta get to work." He pecked Pietro one last time, gently.

"Goodbye."

"See ya later."