He Didn't See That Coming.

1.0

Pietro woke in a bed the next morning. He had never slept in a bed before. Where was he?

The clothes clung loosely to his figure as he stumbled down the foreign hallway.

"Gde ya? Kto to tam?" Where am I? Is anyone there?

A man, probably about twenty, stepped out.

"Hey, Pietro. How'd you sleep?"

Clint.

Yesterday came rushing back to him at super speed.

"Good. And you?" Pietro gave a half smile.

"I slept fine. You want breakfast?" Clint wandered into the open kitchen that connected to both the living room and the dining room.

"Okay." Pietro leant against the wall, timidly looking at the ground.

Clint rubbed the blonde hair out of his eyes, yawning.

"Aww, coffee. No." He whispered as the coffee pot spilled onto the counter. Now he had to brew a whole new pot.

Clint was actually okay at cooking. He knew how to make most simple dishes, but usually just ordered in because he was lazy, or too busy shooting arrows into the wall to cook.

He started making omelets. He really had no clue what this kid liked, so he was just going to start with basic foods that almost everyone liked.

Clint's house phone rang, scaring the shit out of Pietro and causing him to jump.

Clint quickly picked up the receiver.

"Morning, Katniss."

"Ugh. It's you."

"So...I was wondering if Steve and I could come by?"

"What did you do this time?" Clint knew there was going to be a stupid answer in:

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"I tried to cook, and well, the house is full of smoke." We have lift off.

Clint groaned. "You're an idiot. I have a friend over, so be nice."

"Ohh. Do I know this 'friend'?"

"No. Shut up, okay?"

"Love you, too, bird boy. I'll be over in twenty."

"Bye, Tony."

Clint hung up. "My nitwit friend and his boyfriend are coming over." He explained.

"Must I leave?" Pietro's eyes filled with fear.

"No! No, just giving you a warning. They're gonna be here in about twenty minutes." Clint mopped up the coffee with a paper towel.

Pietro limped over to the table, sitting in a chair.

Clint gave him a plate, sitting on the counter and eating.

Pietro was done in minutes, shamefully ducking his head and putting his plate in the sink, washing his hands and standing against the wall.