The Babysitter

•5•

Above is Pietro in this story <3

✖✖✖

"Cookies are done, boys!" Tony yelled from the kitchen.

Nate and I were watching Toy Story, snuggled up in the blankets. Nate jumped up, taking all the covers with him leaving me cold and clutching my phone with a pout.

I finished my text to Alex before getting up to follow my little Natey (a.k.a the blanket stealer). Alex and I have been texting back and forth ever since I got here. He was actually a nice guy and pretty adorable.

"You want some milk, Mr. Babysitter?" Tony joked while pouring a cup of milk.

"Yes, Mr. Stranger, I would love some."

He scoffed at my sarcasm, but still poured three cups of milk.

"I'm not a stranger anymore," Tony mumbles stubbornly making Nate giggle.

"Hurry up! We're missing the part where Buzz Lightyear shows up!" Nate rushed.

We all quickly grabbed a handful of cookies in a napkin and our glasses of milk. I may or may not have hid a few in the microwave for Mr. Barton when he gets home.

We finished the movie around seven and decided to play the Xbox until Mr. Barton got home. All three of us laughed and played for a while before I decided to take a break and check my phone. I smiled at the new text from Alex and quickly began typing a reply.

"Who ya texting?" Came a deep voice from beside me.

I whipped my head to the right with wide eyes and met the chocolate brown eyes of Tony. He sent me the same confused, suspicious look back.

"Nobody."

"Then why are you smiling?"

"I'm not."

"Is it a guy? You seem like the kind that would like guys. Maybe that's why-"

"What is that supposed to mean?" I sputtered.

"So it is a guy," Tony smirked and rose a brow.

Wow, this guy is annoying.

"Yes. Is that what you wanted to hear?" I said defeated.

"Hmm, maybe," he shrugged with that stupid grin still on his face. He reminds me of Wade. Speaking of, I should probably text him back. I shot my best friend a quick text and he responded in less than a minute.

Fat head: I'm busy. Ttyl

Me: who says ttyl anymore?

He ignored me after that which made me scoff. I bet he's not even busy. He's probably just doing that thing again were he blocks out everything but chimichangas and American Horror Story.

"Pietro, I'm tired," Nate whined causing me to switch my phone off and put all my attention on the little kid.

"Me too," Tony said whining. I rolled my eyes at the whining grown man and leaned down to pick up the eight year old that was cuddled up on the opposite couch with a pikachu blanky.

"Ready for bed, buddy?" I asked the yawning boy in my arms.

"Yes, but what about Dad?" His voice muffled in the crook of my neck.

"He'll come home, I promise. I'll make sure he kisses you goodnight when he gets here," I promised, kissing his dirty blonde hair.

Nate always liked waiting until Mr. Barton got home before he fell asleep. He told me it was because his mother left while he was sleep and he never got to say goodbye.