The Babysitter

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Ik you guys know what Peter looks like, but I just want to remind everyone how adorable he is ^_^

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Since my phone was already out, I decided to make a quick call. I didn't want to go home and needed some quick money.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mr. Barton, it's Pietro. I was wondering if you needed any help today?"

"Oh, thank goodness. Did you get out of school early?"

"Something like that," I laughed lightly.

"Okay, well I would love some help. I can't get any work done around the house because Nate was out of school today," he said, sounding exhausted.

"Of course," I couldn't help but smile to myself, "I'll be over in five?"

"Sounds perfect," he said with a bit of relief.

I said goodbye and quickly hung up. I couldn't help but smile the whole drive there. I love babysitting Nate, and, no, not because his dad is unbelievably attractive.

Nate is an adorable little kid that can brighten anyone's day. Clint always says that Nate keeps him in line and I believe it. Nate had the mental age of a sixteen year old, but not like other boys at sixteen. He's like a mature sixteen year old that loves to help people and learn new things.

I arrived at the Barton's household and eagerly jumped out the car. I had also slipped on my jacket, which smelled deliciously of cinnamon and sugar. It was as if Alex wore my jacket to a sleepover at Starbucks.

"Pietro!" Nate yelled happily after he answered the knocked on door.

"Hey, buddy," I grinned and leaned down to scoop him up in a hug.

"Nate, what did I tell you about opening the door when- oh hey, Pietro," Mr. Barton said once he noticed me.

"Hi," I grinned, setting Nate down. They invited me in and I noticed how messy it was inside.

"Sorry, I've been stressed out and-"

"It's fine. I'll clean it," I said with the wave of my hand.

"Thanks Piet- What happened to your hand?" He asked.

My eyes widened for a second before I shoved my bandaged hand in the pocket of my jacket.

"I-It's nothing," I said quickly.

"You sure?"

I nodded quickly and shrugged. He gave me an unsure look and probably would have objected if the doorbell hadn't rang. I sighed in relief and quickly plopped down next to Nate on the couch.

The doorbell was ringing a mile a minute, and I thought whoever was out there was going to bust the door down until Mr. Barton swung it open. I craned my neck to see a short, brunette man at the standing there. He was wearing a band T-shirt and dark jeans. He looked around the same age as Mr. Barton, but not as good looking.

"Clint! You have to help me. I need help with my boyfriend," the brunette stressed, inviting himself in.

Mr. Barton (Clint?) rolled his eyes and shut the door behind the man.

"Which one?" Mr. Barton scoffed causing my eyes to widen from the couch.

"Ha, your funny, Barton. I think I might keep this one around though. He's nice and has abs," the unknown man practically moaned.

I felt uncomfortable hearing this conversation. Then again, I was the one eavesdropping. They were talking in the kitchen, which is connected to the living room by a small walkway, and Nate and I sat on the couch watching Shark Tale.