"There! Starbucks. Turn, peasant!" Clint insisted.

"Chill, I'm turning. You're such a thirteen year old girl."

"Fuck, you're in the wrong lane! We're gonna miss it!"

"Do you wanna fucking drive?" Barney snapped.

"Do you wanna deal with me being caffeine deprived?"

"Fine, fine. But we're not going in."

"We are so going in."

"Pietro, do you wanna go in?"

"D-Does not matter to me."

"C'mon, let's go in, asshole."

"Okay, fuckass."

Barney swerved out of the drive through lane and parked.

Barney pulled himself out of the car, watching as Clint helped his boyfriend from the car.

He turned around to see Clint and Pietro making out against his car.

"C'mon, guys! Not on my car..." Barney laughed.

Clint didn't stop, just flipped Barney the bird.

It was Pietro that pulled away. "He is r-right. Let's go."

Clint groaned. "Okay."

When they entered the coffee shop, all eyes were immediately on them it seemed like everyone has stopped talking. Pietro flushed and looked down, Clint touching his arm.

"I can order for you, you can go sit down if you want." He whispered.

"Okay." Pietro nodded.

He sat in a booth, looking down. He could feel all the questions and stares on him, making him scared.

"Hey, it's okay. People here just aren't used to disabilities."

He glanced up to see Barney lifting himself into the booth.

"They'll stop staring in a minute or two."

Pietro nodded.

"So has Clint been good to you?" The elder Barton asked.

"Yeah, he h-has been great."

"Good."

Clint skipped back over, nearly spilling the coffee. He slid the cups onto the table, kneeling.

Pietro scooted over, patting the seat. "Sit."

Clint gratefully accepted the seat, wrapping an arm around Pietro's waist and pecking his cheek.

Barney admired their love. He'd been committed once. His almost-fiancé had left shortly after Katie was born, merely leaving a note saying she didn't love him anymore. He never saw her again.

He didn't have a problem with being single, though. It was rather nice, just he and Kate with the occasional visitor. She hated when he called her Katie, said it made her seem like a little girl. But in his eyes, she still was.

•••

They arrived at Barney's house about an hour later.

It was modestly sized, not too small but not too big, it looked like it might have two floors. There was a tree in the front yard with a tire swing hanging from it and a shallow ramp up the incline to the front door.

Barney let Lucky out of the house. The yellow lab just about tackled Clint, barking and squealing.

Clint laughed, petting the beast. "What's up, Pizza Dog?"

"What is h-his name?" Pietro tentatively ran a curled hand over the soft fur.

"Lucky."

Lucky sniffed Pietro's hand, licking it. The russian grinned, stroking the dog.

"Kate, I'm home!"

"Coming, dad!"

Inside, everything was lowered and relatively neat. There were stairs that led up to a small loft with a bunk bed and purple decorations. On the top bunk, a younger girl sat, looking at a device.

A few minutes passed. "Kate, seriously, come down!"

"Okay!"

She made no effort to walk down the stairs.

"Katherine, I swear, I will come up if you don't get down here! We've got guests!"

Clint almost chuckled because he knew his brother wasn't joking.

"What guests?!"

"Just get down here!"

Barney looked upstairs impatiently.

"Sorry, she's a little teenagery."

Clint smirked. "I'm gonna go get her."

He padded up the carpeted stairs quietly, fighting back laughter.

He climbed up the bunk bed, sitting on the top bunk.

"Y'know, it's not nice to ignore guests."

Kate's eyes widened as she looked up.

"Clint!" She embraced him tightly.

Clint laughed. "Yep. Let's go downstairs. I've got someone I want you to meet."

"Is it Robert Downy Jr?"

"No, cuter."

"Ryan Reynolds?"

"No! He's much hotter than that."

"Chris Evans?"

"No! He's my boyfriend, silly."

"Oh. Well, now you've set a hotness standard, so I better be wowed."

"Trust me. Now c'mon, we can discuss celebrities later."

Clint trotted down the stairs, Kate following.

She caught sight of Pietro. "Wow..."

"Told you you'd be wowed."

Kate was a whole different kind of wowed. She didn't think her uncle was, well, mature enough to care for a disability. She knew that Clint took care of her dad after the accident, but this was different.

She actually didn't know that much about the accident, only that they were left living in a tiny apartment when her dad was only eighteen and Clint was sixteen and it left Clint mostly deaf and her dad paralyzed.

The man was speaking with her father. His form was crooked, twisted and bent. Forearm crutches seemed to be supporting the majority of his weight and the capri sweats he wore displayed AFO ankle braces. He had shaggy silver hair that hung into his eyes and a lopsided smile. He had blue eyes that reflected purity and happiness. Kate decided she would probably like him.

She stepped off the landing, extending a hand. "Hey, I'm Kate."

"I'm Pietro. N-Nice to meet you." Pietro smiled, shaking her hand. The american conjunction felt strange on his tongue. It sounded off key and slow.

"Well, I can go put you guys's luggage in your room while you talk with Kate or whatever." Barney offered.

"No, I can do it."

"Clint, I've got it." He grabbed the bags and set them on his lap, turning around.

Clint grabbed his shoulder. "Barney, really. You've done enough by letting us stay here."

"It's not a problem."

"Just...just stop. I've got it." Clint grabbed the bags off Barney's thighs, accidentally knocking his foot off the footplate.

"Okay." Barney sighed, pulling his limp foot up onto the rest.

Clint walked away, pulling the suitcase after him.

Pietro looked away awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

Barney and Kate were talking, but he wasn't following the conversation. He felt like there was a fifty percent chance he'd have a seizure and a fifty percent chance he'd panic. Before he could, Clint reappeared.

His arm snaked around Pietro's waist, pulling him close. The group migrated to the living room.

"So Katie, you still doin' archery?" Clint shifted back onto the couch.

"Yeah, I was practicing earlier, actually."

"Maybe I'll teach you some tricks, Hawkeye." Clint used the nickname that he'd passed down to her.

Pietro gave him a questioning expression.

"I fooled around with it when I was younger..." He twirled the drumsticks in his hands.

"Clinton! You've been with this man two years and you haven't told him about your archery?" Barney scolded.

"It never came up...?"

"You're sitting next to an archery legend."

"That's an exaggeration, Barn."

"Back in the circus, he was fucking phenomenal. He never even missed, I shit you not."

"Yeah, well you were pretty good too, back then."

"Not really."

"Don't lie." Clint tossed a stick at him, which caught him in the shoulder.

"Okay, I guess I was alright..." He sheepishly admitted. "Probably wouldn't be any good now."

"Have you tried?"

"No."

"Then you can't say you aren't any good."

"Shut up." Barney pitched the stick Clint had thrown at him back.