Chapter 3: the hunt

The day went by slowly and uneventfully. Steve and Bucky hadn't budged from the living room since morning, only moving to get more food or coffee. They had decided to start researching right away and were both totally engrossed, delving into the deepest, sketchiest parts of the internet and making several notepads worth of lists and notes.

Clint, on the other hand, spent the whole day with Pietro. He wanted to keep an eye on him, to make sure he was coping alright. He also found himself constantly trying to keep Pietro out of rooms that got a lot of sunlight, which wasn't easy.

"Why did Stark have to design this place with so many damn windows and so few damn curtains?" Clint complained.

They finally ended up in their bedroom with the curtains closed, where they stayed until sundown.

By the time night arrived and they were able to go back out to the rest of the tower, Pietro was hungry again. He sat across from Clint at the kitchen table, watching him eat leftover pizza with a look on his face like a stray puppy. Finally, Clint couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, we've got to figure out what to do about this, because I just feel bad eating in front of you when you literally cannot eat this food and you're obviously starving and Doctor Cho's gonna give me an earful when she gets back if I keep giving you her blood samples," he said.

"What am I gonna do then?" said Pietro. "I don't want to kill anyone."

"Some vampires hunt animals for their blood so they don't have to hunt humans," Bucky piped up from the sofa. "It's pretty much their version of vegetarianism."

"Where the hell am I supposed to find animals in Manhattan that aren't stray dogs?" Pietro said.

"Yeah, nobody's eating any dogs," said Clint.

"Way ahead of you," said Steve, holding up a slip of paper. "Here's directions to a little forest I found a few miles outside the city. It's not much and it's kind of a long drive, but it's better than starving."

Pietro darted over to Steve, took the piece of paper, and was back in his seat in the time it took Clint to take another bite of pizza.

"I don't know if I should go out there alone," Pietro said, looking down at the paper in his hands. "I'm not sure I trust myself yet. I don't want to hurt someone along the way because I got impatient and they looked more appetizing than a deer."

"I can go with you," Clint offered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You may not trust you, but I do. And I can always stay in the car if I get distracting."

"Okay," said Pietro. "Finish your dinner, then we'll go get mine."

Nearly two hours later, Clint parked the car on the edge of the woods. Steve had been right, it wasn't much of a forest, mostly a large grove of trees, but there was bound to be something alive in there. He and Pietro got out of the car and walked into the woods. Pietro could see pretty well in the dark, but Clint couldn't and he hadn't brought a flashlight, so Pietro found him a fallen log to sit on before running off into the trees.

Clint sat quietly on his log, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark until he could see fairly well even without a light. After a while, Pietro returned empty handed. Clint stood up and squinted at his watch – he had been gone about forty minutes.

"No luck?" he asked.

"None."

"Damn..."

"This is pointless," Pietro complained. "There's nothing out here. Just a bunch of squirrels and like half of them have rabies and this just isn't working out. I'm gonna starve to death. This is pathetic. I'm a horrible vampire."

"C'mon babe, don't be so dramatic," said Clint. "You're not gonna starve. Are there really only squirrels out here?"

"And birds. But those are even less helpful."

"Yeah, I see what you mean..."

Clint frowned, thinking. He had an idea, but he was sure Pietro would shoot it down. He wasn't even that sure about it himself. But Pietro had to eat, and this was all he had.

"I'll feed you," he said.

"What?!" Pietro exclaimed. "Are you mad? I could kill you!"

"I'll make sure you don't go too far," said Clint. "I trust you. I want to do this."

Pietro stared at him uncertainly. Clint could tell how much he wanted to say yes, but he could also see how scared he was of losing control.

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked.

"Would I offer if I wasn't?"

"Okay. Let's do this. And please, stop me the second I've gone far enough."

"I will," Clint promised.

He rolled up his right sleeve, pulled out a pocket knife, and flipped it open. He sat down against the log, preferring not to collapse by accident, and took a deep breath. Then he pressed the blade to his forearm and carved a cut into his skin. Blood seeped to the surface immediately. Clint looked up at Pietro; even in the dark he could see that his pupils had dilated, and it seemed to be taking all his willpower not to pounce right then.

"Okay. Go ahead," Clint said.

Pietro knelt down next to him and took his arm in his hands. He glanced up at Clint, then brought Clint's arm to his mouth and began to drink. It was a strange sensation, dizzying, but not altogether unpleasant. Clint leaned his head back against the log and watched as Pietro licked and sucked at the bleeding wound, his eyes closed. He looked both terrifying and beautiful like this, like a storm on the sea. Wild and unpredictable and formidable, an angel of death.

Sooner than expected, Clint's head began to spin. He reached out with his left hand and tangled his fingers in Pietro's hair, gently pulling him away.

"Time's up, sweetheart," he said.

Pietro sat up breathlessly and wiped a trickle of blood from his lips with the back of his hand.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy. You?" Clint replied.

"I'd probably freak you out if I went into detail about how I'm feeling," said Pietro.

Clint chuckled.

"I taste that good, eh?"

"Even better than I imagined."

"You've been imagining how I'd taste?"

"Well, the smell of your blood's been taunting me all day, so it was kind of hard to avoid."

"Fair enough," Clint said. "We should probably head back. Help me up, will ya?"

Pietro stood up and took Clint's hand, pulling him to his feet. Clint felt suddenly dizzy and weak at the knees. He swayed on the spot and grabbed Pietro to keep himself upright. Pietro caught him as he stumbled into his chest.

"Whoa, Clint, are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," said Clint. "I think I just let you take a bit more than I should have."

"I'm sorry."

"Naw, it's not your fault. I should've stopped you sooner."

"Why didn't you?" said Pietro.

"To tell the truth, I was kind of enjoying it," Clint admitted.

"Okay... that's kinda kinky..." Pietro teased.

"Oh shut up," said Clint, blushing a little. "Let's just get to the car and bandage my arm so I don't lose anymore blood."

They made their way out of the woods and back to the car. Pietro opened up the passenger door and sat Clint down, then went and got the first aid kit from the trunk. He cleaned the wound and bandaged it, though Clint could see his hands shaking with the effort to keep his thirst under control. When he finished, he pulled Clint's sleeve down over the bandage and kissed his hand.

"Thanks," Clint said.

"It's no trouble," said Pietro. "It's the least I could do."

"We can't tell any of the others about this," said Clint. "They'd freak."

"I know. It'll be our little secret."

"It's a pretty big little secret."

"They don't need to know these woods have nothing but rabid squirrels," said Pietro.

"Good point."

Clint leaned in and kissed Pietro. He could still taste the slightly metallic tint of blood on his lips. Pietro pulled away first, clearly still afraid of losing control.

"I'll drive," he said.

Then he got to his feet, walked around the car to the driver's side, and got in.

By the time they got home, the others had already gone to bed. They went to their bedroom, but Pietro stopped outside the door.

"Something wrong?" Clint asked.

"Well... vampires don't sleep," said Pietro.

"...Oh."

"So... I guess this is good night, then."

"Good night."

Clint kissed his cheek, then turned to go into their room. But he stopped, his hand on the doorknob, and sighed. He turned back around to find Pietro still standing there, looking sad.

"You know, just 'cause you don't sleep doesn't mean you have to spend the whole night wandering the tower all alone," he said.

"No, Clint, you need to sleep. Don't stay up with me. I'll be fine," Pietro protested.

"That's not what I was saying, dumbass, lemme finish," said Clint.

"Sorry. Go on."

"Stay with me."

"But I don't-"

"I know," said Clint. "Just... stay with me. Please."

Pietro hesitated, staring at Clint.

"Okay," he said at last.

They went inside and Clint closed the door. They got changed in silence, then Clint climbed under the covers. Pietro stood at the foot of the bed, looking lost.

"What're you waiting for, come to bed," said Clint, patting the mattress next to him.

Pietro looked like he was about to protest again, but thought better of it. He joined Clint in bed, but just sat there awkwardly. Clint sighed and scooted a few inches closer.

"Pietro?" he said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I know," said Pietro. "I love you too."

"I meant what I said before. I trust you. I know you won't hurt me."

"You can't know that."

"Okay, maybe not. But I still trust you not to."

Pietro didn't answer.

"Pietro?"

"Hmm?"

"Hold me."

"Clint-"

"Please."

"...Okay."

Pietro moved a bit closer and Clint curled up against his chest and closed his eyes, sighing contentedly at the familiar feeling of Pietro's arms around him. He rested his head over Pietro's heart and was surprised to hear it still beating – for some reason he had expected it to have stopped, but it kept diligently marching on and Clint was glad.