Hate myself for loving you
SilverHawk AU for a friends of mine: Dancer!Pietro (22), little sister!Wanda (16), Sugardaddy!Clint (36). The sibllings have their powers but got a background change and were never discovered by Hydra. Clint is still an Avenger but does a lot of S.H.I.E.L.D. work which wasn't compromised. He isn't married and has no kids.
Disclaimer: all characters belong to their respective owners, I gain nothing from this my the gratitude of my friend :P Englisch is not my first language so pls be kind but feedback is appreciated!
The first time they met was at the club. Staging one of his usual performances Pietro caught his eye while he climbed the pole and could see over cheering crowd of men and women, desperate to get a little piece of him, waving bills in the vain hope he'd come closer. There he stood in the back - apart from all the loud madness of the audience - and simply watched him. Not moving a muscle the man observed every single move he made just like... a predator watching it's prey? The thought made him smile. He had always been one for danger so he winked cheekily at this mystery man, unknowingly starting their own little game.
Growing up in Sokovia was never easy - not with both their parents around and even less when he was suddenly alone, an infant in his arms, when he was barely 7 years old. The adults told him their parents wouldn't return, a sad glint in their eyes but unable to change anything. Orphans weren't uncommon in these times; the civil war demanding it's victims every day. So he did what he had to if they wanted to avoid being placed into one of the overflowing orphanages - the Maximoff siblings left their little hometown and went into hiding inside the slums of the next bigger city.
Most of his days could be divided into the same pattern: stealing (food, money, clothes, everything Wanda and he needed) and hiding (don't move, don't speak, pray that they won't find and take you, seperating us). Luckily his sister is a very quiet child from the beginning but they keep changing locations, encounter other children like them organized in gangs but in the end go their own way. The winters are harsh to everyone and sometimes he cries silently at night, when Wanda is fast asleep cuddled to his side, because he thinks they won't make it. But they do.
When he's around 13 they move to the capital of Sokovia - a loud, hectic city full of busy people and the perfect place for a thief like him. Not Wanda; she turned 7 recently and Pietro's gathering all the money he can get his hands on so she can visit a public school. It's wonderful to see how quick she can learn, his precious malinki sestreza being such a clever girl. Sometimes she shares what she learned on these days and helps him improve his rather rough unterstanding of reading. Math he does easily - he has to or he won't know which sum of money to collect each day to make their living.
Now that he's older, growing in body and height it's easier to get hired for some jobs. No legal ones of course but he doesn't complain. And recently he noticed that something else in his body has changed - that he can be very very fast if he wants to, his surroundings slowing down like time is nearly stopping. Pietro's fascinated and disgusted by it; loved and hated it at the same time. But it's useful to keep himself and his sister alive so he does what he's best in - he doesn't complain and hangs on.
Nearly two weeks pass until they meet again. The speedster had been a little disappointed at first but it was a changeable business, dancers and clients came and went faster than the nights going by so he paid it no mind. Following his weekly schedule he pulled through 1 shift behind the bar(mixing drinks, flirting with customers, watching the other dancers) as well serving some drinks to their VIP's (which involved more flirting and maybe a little groping from their side) before it was time again to get on stage. Just before he disappeared to the staff area a glimpse of purple caught his eye and he turned around, gazing intently at the crowd... but nothing. With a small sigh te turned back to the door - maybe he was a little more frustrated than he first thought.
Quicksilver's performance was a success again, just like every night. The crowd roared and cheered, chanting his name like a popstar and throwing their money at him which he gladly took. But as soon as he exited the flash light his smile fell and his tiredness showed deeply in his otherwise handsome features. He knew he made good money every night, allowing Wanda and him to live in a nice apartment without having to worry how to pay the next rent, but this whole thing... it made him sick. Every day, every night was the same a sluggish monotone blur of faces and colours and pure boredom. Pietro was bored out of his mind, his body and powers craving a challenge, the desire for excitement prickling in his limbs up to his fingers. But he couldn't, he just... he shook his head rapidly, angry at his own selfish thoughts.
/This is safe!/ he told himself on his way to the small changing room the dancers used, /this is what brings you and Wanda through the day and keeps you from living ob the streets again! Not some crazy other shit!/. A shiver went down his spine; he'd never return to the streets - not over his dead body.
His hand barely touched the handle to open the door to the changing room when someone called his name and he turned around. The manager of this etablisment - a relatable suprisingly nice guy in his early fourties - headed towards him across the floor, looking agitated but not in a bad way. So the platinum blonde stopped and listened to his request and he was indeed a little startled: a customer requested a private dance by no one else but him. It didn't seem unusual but considering he was already off shift the client had agreed to triple the charged fee for this service. Holy shit... the normal price was not a small fee but thrice as much? Even with his shares to the club it should be enough to buy Wanda this red leather jacket she always looked longingly at when they passed the store (of course she denied it and tried to be more subtle but Pietro was a big brother after all. He noticed things!). A small smile appeared on his face.
"So some old man with too much money to burn huh? Please tell him I'll be there in 15... gotta change except he gets off on smelly business!"
His manager just huffed about his cocky attitude but he knew it was genuine - this was the man who had taken him in in the first place - and disappeared again to inform their guest of his arrival. So Pietro took a quick shower, changed into a new set of snidely fitting clothes before ruffling through his still damp hair. Enhancing his eyes with the barest hint of eyeliner he looked at this reflection and smiled satisfied. Yeah he was really looking good tonight. Turning on his heels he left for the more private rooms at the other end of the hall, wasting no more time. His manager threw him an exasperated glance when he rounded the corner to room 12.
"You know you're late aren't you? Sometime's you're such a diva" the smaller man snarked and Pietro huffed out a small laugh.
"Well what do you say: all good things take their time! You can't get something from nothing."
Knowing arguing wasn't an option and they were late anyway the older man simply opened the door and shoved the speedster inside, closing it quietly behind him.
The interior of the room was classy but simple, tones of dark red and black dominating the furniture, light blocking curtains equally red and a small pole lit up in the middle of the room. His client sat in the dark leather chair at the opposite side of it, dressed in a nicely fitting suit and a small smile curled around the blondes lips when he recognized him - his mystery man had returned.
"Well well look who's back," he drawled, moving closer, his hips swaying with every step "I began to think you didn't like me anymore. Not a nice game to play Mister...?".
"Brandt. William Brandt. And believe it or not, the whole world ain't turning around you kiddo!" the brunette - William - answered, sitting comfortably in his armchair, his body not entirely relaxed, emitting some kind of dominance over the room. The older Maximoff knew to play by the rules - their money, their room, their decisions - but he was far from giving into it right now. He was never one to make it too easy. "Oh really? Guess that's still needs to be proven."
His voice thick with accent he dancer rounded the pole and took a tumbler and decanter of whiskey from the minibar. "How about we start this with a drink Mr. Brandt?"
The smirk on the others face suited him just fine, green-blueish eyes trained on him, a hand coming up to groom through the short brown hair. The grey three-piece suit complimented Brandt's body in all the right ways - that ugly grey-purple tie though, that one had to go. Oh and Pietro would make sure it would disappear...
"If I wanted a drink I wouldn't have waited for nearly half on hour to drag yourself here but went straight to the bar. So how about you get that sweet ass up the stage and work for this ridiculous amount of money?" a short nod to the client's left confirmed his suggestions that the black messenger bag besides the chair indeed contained his payment for this job and it was not a small one in the least. His manager probably had set and controlled the sum twice so there was no need to worry about this. The younger one wasn't swayed in the slightest - he tutted while filling the glass with a good portion of the fine alcohol and added some ice cubes, swirling the liquid and refraining from loosing his handle on the situation for now. "Impatient aren't we? But be assured everything will be worth your wait Mr. Brandt so get comfy and just enjoy yourself."
- End part 1 -