These two would be my most favorite actors in Avengers and so.. well. I put them together. I've never really written slash before. Hope it's okay.

Disclaimer: I would to own everything and especially these two, but I don't...

Pietro Maximoff was one cocky assed kid, and he drove Clinton Barton up the wall.

But underneath all of that he was strong, smart, resourceful and hopelessly loyal.

The loyalty he had for his sister, Wanda Maximoff was understandable. Siblings who went through traumatic circumstances grew closer together, and twins always had some bond that connected them.

But then there was the loyalty that he had had to HYDRA.

They had experimented on him, tortured him, sent him out to die; but he had never betrayed them because he thought that what he was doing was the right thing. It wasn't until he had it proven that none of this was a going to lead to a good ending that he flipped.

And then there was Clint himself, the Avengers.

He was a smart ass and especially with Clint, he was a jackass. However he then proved his worth, by helping with saving people as the city was rising, and then throwing himself without thinking twice in front of Hawkeye and the little boy.

Pietro had almost died, only clinging on by a thread to his life.

Pietro Maximoff was one cocky assed kid, and he drove Clinton Barton up the wall, but he had shown them all that he was good enough to fight next to them.

"So you're the one who's going to be training me, aye?" Pietro smirked at him as Clint walked into the training room, joining the Sokovian who was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "They didn't want to give me someone younger?" Clint huffed under his breath as he took of his jacket and dropped it to the ground. "Sorry, I didn't hear that."

"You weren't supposed to," Clint snapped back, throwing a glare over at the younger man. The smile dropped of Pietro's face and he quickly straightened up, arms at his side, feet together, as he looked over at the Avenger. "Okay, so, first day of training. First things first, you get smart with me, I'm gonna put an arrow in your leg—"

"If you can catch me," Pietro shot back, the serious look gone, and then eyes wide when Clint had his bow and arrow in his hand in a blink of an eye. Pietro hadn't even seen him come in with his weapons, and he swallowed hard.

"This is a warning," Clint said firmly. "Now, second thing is; I don't care if you're fast. What happens when you've got nowhere to go; nowhere to run? What happens when you're part of team? What happens when you need to save someone other than you or your sister?" Clint asked, stepping closer to Pietro until he was only inches away from him. The younger man was back to standing stiffly, and he was barely breathing as Clint stood in front of him. "What happens then, huh, Quick Silver?" The name was said with a slightly teasing edging, and he hoped that it would make Pietro relax slightly, but the blonde didn't even move. He shrugged slightly and nodded to the back of the wall. "We need to do some hand to hand combat work. But warm up first."

Pietro took off, a blur as he disappeared around the room. Clint took in a deep breath through his nose, rolling his neck as he tried to calm his body.

The platinum blonde did something to his head. He fucked with him in a way that hadn't happened in a long time. And Clint didn't like that. The only person who had gotten through his barriers in the past five years had been Natasha Romanov, and she was his best friend, someone that he trusted explicitly.

Clint didn't trust Pietro as far as he could drop kick him.

This was going to be an interesting couple of months.

Twoweeks into training, and Clint was certain about one thing.

He might kill Pietro.

Whether this was because he was that annoying, or because he was that sensual.

The kid was a quick study, and he was soon giving Clint a run for his money. He was getting stronger steadily, and his reflexes were getting sharper, and not just fast but also accurate. When he was training, he bounced between two completely separate personalities that made Clint's head spin. He had the Pietro with the smart mouth, and then he had the Pietro that would flinch if he snapped at him.

And then there was the awfully beautiful moment when they were halfway through a lesson, and Pietro would strip out of his wife beater or tee-shirt.

His torso would be bare, sweat dripping down his arms and shoulders, licking at his ridiculously perfect six pack. Pietro would flex his biceps, and run his hand through his platinum blonde hair, tossing it out of his eyes; and Clint was pretty certain that the kid had no idea how beautiful he was.

"Fuck this, fuck it, fuck him," Clint growled as he kicked out at a bar stool in one of the kitchens at the Avengers base.

"You wouldn't be talking about my brother, would you?" Wanda Maximoff sung out behind him, suddenly appearing in the room that Clint thought was empty. Clint snapped his head over to where she was standing, the pretty brunette skipping over to where he was standing. As if by automatic reaction, he took a step back when she approached, and she sent him a wolfish smile. "Don't worry, Bird. I'm not going to go looking for those answers in that muddle of your mind."

"I thought you were training with Maria Hall," Clint grunted as he grabbed an apple from the fridge and took a bite.

"And I thought you were training with my brother," Wanda shot back.

"I need a break," he muttered.

"You know he likes you, right?" Wada tilted her head to the side, her long hair falling over her shoulder as she leaned in closer to her. Clint's eyebrows knitted together as he swallowed his mouthful of apple, trying not to look completely interested in what the Maximoff girl had to say. "You're a good mentor for him." He then realized that she wasn't talking about the same kind of 'like' that he was. The girl reached out and snatched the apple from Clint's hand and turned to skip out the door.

"Hey—" he began to protest.

"He also says you have a nice ass," she called over her shoulder.

Clint's eyes almost popped out of his head.

"What are you doing?" Clint sighed as he rolled his eyes over to Pietro, who was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, jerking his head from side to side.

"I'm getting ready to train," Pietro shot back.

"It looks like you're doing some weird...Dance?" Clint rolled his eyes and stretched his arms out behind his back. Pietro made a face but didn't reply, which as strange, because the kid had a smart mouth. They started training, only using their hands, Clint mainly attacking so that Pietro could work on blocking maneuvers He was getting better at this, and soon Clint was going to need to bring Natasha or Steve Rodgers in so that he could start learning to move with a partner. They had been working on attacking moves first, because that was what Pietro was best at, and now on defense.

"You and..." Pietro let out a short breath as he ducked under Clint's arm and then spun away from a sharp punch directed at his ribs. "Black Widow..." he managed to gasp out as Clint kicked at him and then gripped his wrist, pulling the younger kid into him before flipping him over on his back. "Shit!" All the air was rushed out of his red lips as he hit the ground, and he blinked a couple of times before finishing his sentence. "Are you together?" Clint raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the kid.

"What?" He asked, still firming holding Pietro's wrist in a twisted position, his knee pressing down on his hip in a way that would be painful if he tried to move.

"You and Black Widow—uh, Natasha. Are you guys, like, together?" Pietro's expression was attempted nonchalance, but there was a slight pink that tinged his cheeks. Clint let out a short laugh as he released Pietro's hands and straightened up, relaxing back into a fighters stance, waiting for Pietro to get up.

"No," Clint replied. "Nat is...Nat is my best friend. And she's into Steve." Pietro's eyes flickered slightly in surprise. "So, no. We're not together." He lunged forward and stabbed two fingers toward Pietro's eyes, but he swung around and hooked his ankle behind Clint's, sending Clint stumbling forward, and then he jabbed his elbow into the older man's back, making him fall to the ground. Clint's smile slightly in the surprise and pride, but quickly schooled his features as he rolled onto his back and Pietro fell down to straddle Clint, his strong thighs on either side of his hips.

"So are you with anyone?" The platinum blonde asked bluntly.

"Didn't realize that we were having therapy session here," Clint muttered, throwing his hips up and sending an unsuspecting Pietro over his head. He rolled with him, and straddled him this time, leaning forward to lock Pietro's wrists over his head and lifting an eyebrow. "Why the interest?"

"Should probably know something about the bird I'm dealing with," Pietro teased, but there was something in his eye and the twitch in his full lips. Clint couldn't help himself, his eyes trailed down to the gorgeous, red lips that he had been dreaming about the past few weeks. Pietro's tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip, dragging over the flesh slow and smooth, and Clint felt himself harden almost instantly in his pants.

And as he thought about it for another moment, he was pretty certain that Pietro was too.

"Well," came a soft, lilting voice from the doorway. "I'm gonna have dirty dreams about this for the next few months." Both men looked over at the doorway, where Natasha and Steve were standing. Natasha were smirking at the pair of them, while Steve was trying to look anywhere but the two figures on the bed. "Get out of here. It's our turn."

"There are like...Ten other training rooms in this facility," Clint muttered as he rolled off Pietro, standing up quickly and willing away his erection.

"And yet I want yours," Natasha poked her tongue out at Clint and he rolled his eyes at her childish behavior, but couldn't stop him grin. He loved it when she was like this, and she had been a lot more relaxed since her and Steve had started...Seeing each other? Sleeping together? He wasn't sure what they were right now. It had actually been a while since he had caught up with the red head, and he made a mental note to do so.

"We're done here," Clint said, striding over to get his water bottle and jacket. He glanced back to where Pietro was just getting up, the speedsters moving in what seemed like slow motion, still watching him. "See ya later, Nat," he kissed Natasha on the cheek quickly before leaving the room. He heard the kid moving behind him, but he ducked down the hallway and disappeared into his room. As he was standing on the other side of the his door, his head resting against the wall, he heard a whoosh of air, and he knew that Pietro was standing on the other side.

But the Sokovain never knocked, and after a minute or so, the shadow under the door disappeared.

The danced continued for almost another two months.

Fury and Coulson sent Clint and Pietro off on a mission together. It was Pietro's first time out, and it was just a surveillance, but that was okay. These past four months had been the longest time Clint had been cooped up, and while he knew that he was just going to be cooped up somewhere else, at least he was getting out.

They were in Moscow within two days.

"Seriously?" Pietro was going stir crazy, disappearing in a blur around the room every couple of minutes as he tried to burn of energy. "This is what SHIELD agents do?" He let out a groan and then flopped down on the mattress of one of the single beds, face down first. Clint glanced over his shoulder and then quickly trained his eyes back to the lap top in front of him. There was surveillance equipment set up throughout the building opposite, where a CEO for a big oil company was staying with his prostitutes.

A CEO for a big oil company with ties to HYDRA.

SHIELD didn't think that anyone was going to show up at the building, but the guy still needed to be kept an eye on, and usually it would be something for a Level 3 or 4 agent to do, but Clint had volunteered. He needed to get out, and sooner or later, Pietro was going to need to go on a mission.

"You need to learn patience, little one," Clint muttered, semi-quoting Star Wars. Pietro let out a grumble behind him, but he ignored the blonde, zooming in on the corner of one of the cameras. "We have another red head," he grunted. "This guy is nothing if not consistant." There was a rush of air behind him and he knew that it was Pietro rushing to his side in a blur.

"Ick," Pietro made a sound of disapproval behind him.

"Don't like red heads?" Clint half smirked. "Nat will be disappointed." Pietro rolled his eyes as he fell down with huff into the seat next to Clint.

"Don't like woman," Pietro stated bluntly and Clint felt his whole body freeze. The younger boy leaned forward to look at at the computer, seemingly unaware of how he had affected the man next to him. "I mean, I love woman. They are funny, they are smart, and they are beautiful," he shrugged. "But I just don't love them in the way that he loves woman."

"So, you're into..." Clint tried to sound strangled as he felt, his breath stuck in his throat. "Men?" Pietro was still staring at the screen in front of him, but his neck was locked now, and there was a red flush that was beginning to rise. He didn't answer, and Clint tried to breath normally, but unfortunately, he was inhaling at exhaling harshly and Pietro swallowed hard.

Clint reached forward to put his finger on the mouse, to move to the second camera, and his arm brushed against Pietro's.

Both men jerked back.

"Okay!" Clint snapped out, jumping up from his seat. "I'm gonna go grab dinner. You good with burgers? I saw a place down the street." He was already backing away from the computer set up, snatching up his wallet from the bed. "Yup, good? Okay, right, I'll be back soon." He didn't even wait for Pietro to reply before he was out the door, slamming it behind him, and practically running down the hallway.

He needed to get away from the platinum blonde, with the sensual accent dripping from his tongue, and the red lips that looked like they were inviting him in, and those strong hands that looked capable of doing so many wicked things to his hands, his legs, his cock...

"Shit," Clint growled, stabbing at the 'down' button for the elevator angrily.

He needed to get out of here.

Pietro stormed into the shower after Clint left the room. He had honestly not known where his statement would take him, the announcement that he wasn't into woman. Clint had then stuttered out the obvious question, but Pietro had been frozen, and unable to talk. He couldn't figure out why, not when ten seconds before he had felt so brave at announcing his sexual orientation.

And then the oh so mighty Hawkeye had fled.

Typical.

Pietro was as a hard as a rock in his sweat pants, and he knew that he was going to have to burn it off somehow, since clearly Clint wasn't going to relieve him. He flicked on the shower and stripped, not waiting for the water to heat to a warm temperature, and stepped under the spray. The cold water dampened his platinum hair, turning it a darker shade of blonde...Almost the color of Clint's, he mused.

He leaned back against the cool tiles of the shower, knocking his head back against the tiles so hard that it rattled his teeth.

He had had a thing from the instant that he had set eyes on the archer, back on Sokovia.

That had only grown as time had gone by.

To begin with, he had thought that he didn't stand a chance. Clint was older, he was clearly at a stage in his life when he was after a serious relationship, someone who he could settle down with. Then, Pietro had thought that he was Black Widow. She was gorgeous, he had no problem admitting that, and she was lethal, which was damn attractive. But after time, and what Clint and his sister had told him, he had realized that the two were only good friends, and it looked as thought the Widow and Cap were together.

Wanda had been teasing him, saying that there was clearly something there, but Pietro just didn't want to take the final step.

What if she was wrong?

What if he was wrong?

What if he was wasting months of his life, longing after a man that was never going to be his?

He was going to give himself until the end of this mission, and then he was going to need to move on. He couldn't keep pining after someone that was never going to be his.

But until then...

Pietro took a hold of his cock and pumped up and down slowly, taking in a deep shaky breath as his other hand cupped his sac, rolling it between his fingers lightly. He let out the shaky breath, his body tense as he moved his hand over his cock. His head was filled with thoughts of Clint, of the archer with his bow, of the dark blonde sparring with him, of Hawkeye sending snarky remarks back at him...

"What are you doing?"

Pietro almost fell straight of his ass, trying to straighten up and over himself.

He spat out mouthfuls of shower water that he had sucked in in the midst of his panic as he stared through the misted glass to where Clint was standing. The older man was wearing a neutral expression as he stared back at Pietro. Suddenly, Clint leaned forward and jerked open the door of the shower and his eyes were drawn down to the impressive erection which Pietro had been trying to cover. Clint reached in and pushed aside the blonde's hands so that he could see his cock, and Pietro watched as Clint took in a deep, shaky breath. Pietro flailed his hand around, grabbing a towel from the hook outside and wrapping it around his waist.

"Do you like me, Pietro?" Clint suddenly asked, his narrow eyes drawn back to Pietro's face. The boy's red lips parted, a frown creasing his forehead at the question. It was so...Young...And innocent. "I said," Clint's voice deepened and his eyes darkened. "Do you like me, Pietro? Is this for me?

"Yes," Pietro managed to say, wincing at the crack in his voice. Clint swallowed so hard that Pietro saw the jerk and bob of his adams apple before he turned around and walked back into the bedroom. Pietro frowned and he turned off the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack next to the shower and wrapped it around his waist, not bothering to dry his chest as he followed Clint back into the bedroom. "So, uh, what does this mean?" His nervousness was clear, because his Sokovian accent was even stronger now, and Clint felt that all the way down in the pit of his stomach, sending sparks through his cock. The younger man saw the slight change in his expression and he took a step closer, so that they were only inches apart.

"It means that we're going to take this one day at a time," Clint managed to get out, his eyes drifting downwards over Pietro's hard torso and his hand reached out to rest on the knot of the towel. Pietro's abdominal muscles quivered in anticipation as Clint's fingers slowly curled around the knot so that his knuckles brushed against Pietro's tight, damp skin. He took in one last breath before loosening the knot and causing the towel to fall to the ground.

For a second, Pietro was frozen, as Clint's eyes dripped over the hardened planes of his stomach before resting over his hardened cock.

The appreciation on his face was clear, and it was enough for Pietro, because he lunged forward, slipping one hand behind Clint's head and jerking him in close and smashing his lips down on his. For a split second, Pietro thought that maybe this hadn't been the right idea, that he had read something wrong, because Clint wasn't kissing him back.

But then he was.

And the archer's strong arms were wrapping around his naked torso and holding him to his body. Clint tasted like toothpaste and sugary, probably from the coke he had been drinking...And there was something else, kind of earthy, and he loved it.

Pietro touched his tongue to the seam of Clint's mouth, and the older man didn't hesitate before parting his lips, and then the Sokovian's tongue was rolling against his, and Pietro let out a loud groan from the back of his throat. Clint grunted in response and his arms tightened around Pietro, his fingers pressing hard against his skin as he started walking Pietro backwards. Pietro let himself walk back, as long as his lips never moved away from Clint's and his fingers were getting busy with the buttons of his lovers shirt. By the time the back of Pietro's legs hit the bed, he had unbuttoned Clint's shirt and was pushing it back, over his shoulders and he was happy to sit down and look up at the archer.

Clint's torso and shoulders were littered with scars, some longer and deeper than others, but each with a story of their own. His muscle definition was incredible, though, and Pietro knew that his mouth was practically watering as he took him in.

"You okay there, kid?" Clint asked, his eyebrow raised as Pietro raised his eyes to look up at him. "You not having second thoughts there, are you?" Pietro definitely wasn't, but he could see the way he was being completely silent and just staring up at him might seem like he was backing out. To reassure him, he tugged at Clint's jeans, working the button and the zip down before pushing both the jeans and the briefs down, revealing Clint's cock.

"Not at all," Pietro breathed.

"Don't get all soft and squishy with me here," Clint grunted, kicking off his jeans and lunging for Pietro, sending the pair of them back on the bed and stretching out next to each other. Pietro rolled his eyes as he met Clint's gaze and caught his lower lip between his teeth before pushing back Clint's shoulders and rolling on top of him.

"I can tell you one thing, old man," Pietro taunted as he stared down at Clint, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Soft is the last thing I'm getting." He dropped his mouth to Clint's jaw, his lips and teeth nipping and soothing at Clint's skin, making his way down the curve of his neck and then to his collar bone. Clint let out a grunt, his body tense as he lifted his hands and tangled them in the tousled blonde hair. Pietro flicked his tongue over Clint's nipple and he jerked up, his back arching off the bed as Pietro grazed his teeth over Clint's skin. His fingers dug into his hip bones, keeping Clint still as his mouth found the apex of his legs. Clint pulled his head off the mattress so that he could see what the younger man was doing as Pietro positioned himself between Clint's muscular legs and lowered himself. He let out a breath of air that made Clint tense up and drop his head back down to the mattress, clenching his hands into fists as he waited for Pietro's mouth.

Pietro flicked out his tongue over the tip of Clint's cock and he groaned, thrusting his hips upwards and Pietro shot a grin up at Clint, his delicious mouth curving upwards before he parted his lips and took in all of the older man.

"Shit, Pietro!" Clint gasped out, one hand fisting the sheets in one while the other one held firmly to Pietro's hair. Even though Clint had a firm grip on Pietro's hair, it was clear that the younger boy was the one that was controlling the pace, even as Clint tried to thrust his hips upward to follow Pietro's mouth. His tongue flattened as he took all of Clint in his mouth, running all the way from the base of his cock to the tip, where he swirled his tongue and pursed his lips so that they narrowed. He moved his head up and down, up and down until Clint finally tightened his grip in Pietro's hair and jerked him upward. "If you keep going like that, I'm gonna cum."

"That's kind of the point," Pietro smirked before lowering his head again. Clint jerked once more at Pietro's hair and he rolled his eyes, looking a little annoyed when he looked back at Clint. "What?"

"I want you to cum as well," Clint managed to say, his voice breaking and catching in his throat as Pietro's hand tightened around the base of his cock.

"Yeah...I know, babe," Pietro murmured, but that was all he said before he dropped his mouth back to Clint. It was a mixture of the term of endearment and also the feel of Pietro's hot mouth surrounding him again, sent Clint over the edge. He dropped his hand from where it was tangled in Pietro's hair to grip the bed sheets, worried that he might tear the hair from his lovers head in the midst of his orgasm.

"Fuck...Pietro..." Clint grunted out, his fingers digging into the bed as he rode out the waves of pleasure that were rushing over him. Pietro kept sucking, moving his head up and down rapidly until Clint had emptied himself into Pietro's mouth. Pietro pulled back, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Clint's eyes were narrowed into slits as he watched Pietro lewdly lick his lips, and it made Clint's stomach twist in lust and he wondered how soon it would be before he was able to go again. Based on the way he was feeling, looking over at the younger blonde, he guessed it wasn't going to be long. "Get up here," Clint growled, reaching down to try and grip Pietro's arms and pull him up. Pietro let him, stretching over Clint's body and their cocks bumped together, and both men let out low moans.

Pietro's mouth was back on Clint's, and Clint didn't care that he could taste himself on the lighter blonde, all he cared was that the kid was still hard, and he needed to take care of that. God, but the feel of Pietro's tongue on his was so incredible that it made him forget everything else.

He had never felt the world fade away before; not like this—not even with Natasha, his best friend.

"God, Clint," Pietro mumbled into his mouth as Clint skimmed his hand down his side, pausing to squeeze Pietro's ass before sliding between them. Pietro lifted himself up to allow Clint to reach his cock. "Oh, fuck." The kisses became sloppier and messier as Clint began to move his hand up and down, his thumb sliding over the head of his lovers cock. "Shit..." his whole body was beginning to jerk as Clint pumped harder, and finally, he had to drop his head into the curve of Clint's shoulder and let out a muffled cry as he came. Clint felt Pietro's cum on his stomach, but he didn't care about the mess that they had created. Pietro rolled off and the two men just lay there for a few minutes, taking in deep breaths as they stared at the ceiling. "So..." Clint knew that his cock was hardening again, and the way that Pietro's accent was layering his words wasn't helping. "That was...That was something."

"Yeah," Clint breathed out heavily. "Yeah, it was." They were quiet for a bit longer, before Clint rolled off the bed and headed into the bathroom, to clean himself up. Pietro waited a second before following after him, leaning against the door frame. Clint turned back around to face him, and there was a small smile on the usually serious mans face. "I think that—" Clint's words were broken off when Pietro crossed the room and pressed his mouth to Clint's, kissing him until he was breathless and then pulling away.

"You are, uh—what is it you American's say?" Pietro tilted his head to the side. "You are over thinking things," he nodded, and his cocky smile spread across his face. "Too much thinking ruins things."

"We just take things one day at a time," Clint nodded in agreement.

"One day at a time," Pietro smirked.

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