As the plane taxied, Pietro began to fumble with the seatbelt. He couldn't get it fastened.

"I've got it, honey." Clint whispered in his boyfriend's ear, clicking the restraint.

The plane began to tilt upward, scaring the shit out of the poor eighteen year old. Clint squeezed his hand reassuringly, smiling slightly.

The plane continued up, leveling out.

Pietro's ears began to hurt. He put his hands over them, looking at Clint with an alarmed expression.

"It's fine, honey. Just the air pressure. It'll go away." Clint moved Pietro's hair.

Pietro nodded shallowly, laying his head on Clint's shoulder.

Clint flipped up the armrest, scooting closer to Pietro so the younger could lay on him.

Within minutes Pietro's breathing changed, alerting Clint that he was asleep. He draped the light jacket tied around his waist over his love, pulling out his phone.

•••

"Baby, wake up." Clint gently shook Pietro awake.

"Mm?" Pietro woke, almost completely in Clint's lap.

"We're gonna land soon."

Pietro sat up, stretching the best he could.

His legs felt stiff and his neck hurt, but he felt otherwise well rested.

Clint had an arm around his waist, keeping him close. The plane began it's descent.

When it touched down, people immediately began to get ready to leave the plane. Pietro just sat patiently, unable to do much of anything in the small space.

People began exiting the plane, Clint helping Pietro to stand up before opening the overhead compartment.

He handed the crutches to his significant other.

Pietro stepped out into the aisle, quickly realizing there was no way he could walk with that many people in his way. Before he could move, though, something hit the back of his knee and caused him to go down.

He blushed and laughed, struggling to get back on his feet.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" A woman, no older than twenty apologized.

"I-It is okay." He assured, still trying to get his feet under him.

"Do you need help?" She meant well, he knew that, but it made him blush even more.

"No, no, I am g-good." He smiled almost falsely.

Clint lifted Pietro to his feet.

"T-Thanks, Clint."

"No problem." Clint pecked his lips.

The flow of people died down.

"Again, I'm so sorry."

"Really, it is okay."

Clint slung the backpack over his shoulder.

Pietro stepped into the near vacant aisle, motioning for the talkative girl to move. She complied, and he and Clint walked down the plane. He stumbled, legs still taut from sitting for the extended time.

"You okay?" Clint placed a hand on Pietro's back.

"Mhm."

Clint walked with Pietro through the San Antonio airport, sighing.

"What is w-wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just tired."

"I can t-take backpack."

"No, honey, I don't want you to get tired."

"I will not."

Clint helped him put the bag on, making sure he was steady.

The couple continued through the building.

"Are we almost there?"

"I don't know. I think so."

As if on cue, Clint saw a familiar face. He raced over like a small child, kneeling to hug his older brother.

Barney and Clint had been in an accident right around the time Barney turned eighteen, leaving him paralyzed and Clint almost completely deaf.

They both began vividly signing and laughing.

Pietro grinned at Clint's enthusiasm.

"Oh...sorry, honey." Clint walked back over to Pietro.

Barney chuckled at Clint's behavior, shaking his head.

"Barney, this is my boyfriend, Pietro. Pietro, this is my brother Barney."

Pietro smiled, extending a semi-curled hand. "N-Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too." Barney excepted the handshake.

He signed something, causing Clint to snort.

"You're such an asshole, Barney. He doesn't know sign language."

Pietro raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Nothing, nothing." Clint shook his head. "Barney's an ass. You'll get used to it."

"Hey!" The older brother punched Clint's arm. "Am not!"

"We both know you are."

"Okay, true."

His brother led the way to an elevator, bickering with Clint the entire time.

"You sure this is the right way, big bro?" Clint teased.

"Yeah, I think so." He instinctively signed the just of what he was saying. "Never been here before."

"Oh, that's helpful." Clint bumped Barney on 'accident'.

"Suck a fuck, Clint."

Donnie Darko was kind of a mutual favorite movie between them. They watched it almost every time they were together.

"And how exactly does one suck a fuck, Barney?"

Pietro looked clueless.

"It's from a movie. I'll show you later." Clint fixed Pietro's bangs.

"Oh, I'm sure you will." Barney commented.

"Shut the fuck up." Clint nudged Barney's footrest with his foot playfully.

"Make me."

"Maybe I would."

The trio got into the elevator.

"I'd kick your ass, Clinton."

"Fight me."

"You know I would."

"I'd win, though, big brother."

"How many times have I beat you in a fight?"

Clint pretending to count on his fingers.

Barney socked him in the arm.

Clint sighed. "I need coffee. You see any Starbucks on the way here?"

"I don't know, I was driving, not searching for a coffee shop."

"I will die if I don't have caffeine soon."

"Drama queen."

Clint sank down to his knees and fell on his side dramatically, groaning.

The elevator door opened to reveal the airport garage.

"Get up or I'll run your ass over."

"Okay, okay, I'm moving."

Clint stood up, letting his brother off the lift and making sure his boyfriend got off as well.

"Dammit. Clint, where did I park?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"I dunno."

Pietro was leaning against the wall, quietly panting.

"Babe, you okay?" Clint switched gears.

"Mhm. Just tired. Need to sit. My knees are s-sore."

Clint helped Pietro to the nearest bench. "Okay. Barney and I'll go find the car and pull it around here."

"Okay, I s-should be okay by then."

Clint stepped off to his brother, who was signing vigorously.

'Is he okay?' Barney signed, pushing harder on the rims of his chair to give him more time to use his hands.

'Yeah, he just gets tired easy.' Clint looked a bit more drained than before.

'What does he have again?'

'Cerebral palsy.' Clint looked at the ground. 'Epilepsy, too, but you haven't even seen that yet.'

'Sorry.'

Clint sighed, changing the subject. 'Where's Katie?'

'She wanted to stay home alone.'

Katie was Barney's strangely mature ten year old daughter.

'She knows I'm coming?'

'No.' Barney grinned.

'She knows about Pietro?'

'Somewhat.'

Barney looked up. "There's the car."

"Damn, y'get that from the junkyard?"

"It's a car."

"It's a piece of shit."

Barney glared up at Clint, who threw his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, sorry."