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Walker wasn’t exactly what anyone would call ‘warm’. In fact, ‘asshole’ was a more apt description. He knew it, his team knew it, his ex-wife knew it, that’s why she had been so quick to serve and sign those damn divorce papers. When he was younger and easily swayed by public perception, he would try to hide that. He would pretend to be charming, and try to say all the right things even if it was out of his nature.
Now, he didn’t even pretend. He was old, he was tired, he was cranky and he didn’t have the energy to pander to anyone anymore. Of course, this natural approach hadn’t been terrible for him. While it did make him seem abrasive, some people seemed to appreciate his general honesty and the way he avoided false niceties. Besides, he wasn’t always a dick. He knew when to tone it down and there were times when he genuinely wanted to be kind. With some people it was easier than others.
Still, no one ever accused him of being a cuddly person and so this, perhaps, was a bad idea. From the way Yelena was looking at him, she knew it too. The young woman sat across from him, tapping her fingers idly on the tabletop as Walker looked at her over a bowl of wheaties, feeling a bit like a suspect being interrogated by the bad cop.
“I just need you to look in on him a couple times,” Yelena hummed, her eyes cold as she appraised the super soldier. “I’ve left him with snacks and water, but he hasn’t moved so I need you to keep an eye on him.”
“Are we talking about Bobby or your guinea pig?” Walker teased, brows rigid at the way she described her care of Bob. He knew that Yelena mother-hened the other man to a degree unheard of, especially at times like this where Bob hadn’t left his bedroom in almost three days, despite everyone trying to get him out. Everyone except John.
“Don’t call him that,” She snapped in her thick Russian accent. “I’ll only be gone a couple of days.”
“Why don’t you ask someone who’s not me? Literally anyone else?” John spoke through a mouthful of wheaties, no longer caring about manners in a tower full of weirdos.
“Because you’re the only one who he hasn’t actively ignored,” She rubbed her temples as she spoke and Walker was reminded of yesterday morning. Bucky had been trying desperately to coax Bob out of bed, kneeling next to the blanket-covered form with the bedroom door wide open. While John hadn’t gone on his own to seek out or try to move Bob, he had walked by at that moment and looked into the bedroom.
“Bobby, you alive?” He had called out in a casual voice, a hand coming out from under the blankets and waving softly at John who was, honestly, barely paying attention. “Sounds good, Buddy.”
He hadn’t seen the startled look on Bucky’s face as John swiftly moved on, incident forgotten as he went for his morning run. Apparently, he was the first one to get a response from Bob since the man had sequestered himself into his room and it had shocked Bucky enough that he told Yelena. Which seemed to explain why Yelena was asking John of all people to check on Bob while she went out on a recon mission.
“Fine, whatever,” He huffed, grabbing his bowl to take to the sink, effectively ending the conversation.
Of course, that was how he ended up standing next to Bob’s bed, peering at the curled up form buried under too many blankets. A form that hadn’t moved since John had entered the room and towered over him, which was about three minutes now. This was a mess. He wasn’t like Yelena, he didn’t know how to be soft. John hadn’t grown up in a house where depression was permissible, or even talked about. If you were sad, that sucked, but you got back up and you ran through the day even if you felt like you wanted to die the whole time. It was called grit. At least, that’s what his dad had taught him.
With a sigh, John mustered up whatever kindness was left in him after his shit life, and kneeled down next to the form on the bed like he had seen Bucky. He tried to keep his tone soft, gentle, though it came out awkward and stilted. “Hey, buddy. You feel like eating? Maybe getting out of the room?”
The form only shifted to make itself smaller, and John cursed inwardly, feeling his patience thin. He had to try though, Yelena was counting on him to keep Bob alive (and her guinea pig, which she tasked him with after their Bob talk) and he wasn’t going to let her down. As much as he was loath to admit it, the rest of the dumbasses in the tower were, begrudgingly, his friends. Besides, it was nearing the end of day three and he really, really did not want to leave Bob like this. It wasn’t good for him and John, surprisingly, cared about the young brunette the most. He was actually John’s favorite, if he was being honest.
At first he had found the man grating and ridiculous, but the more he learned about him in the void and the longer he spent in the same proximity, he felt some kind of strange tightness in his chest that made him concerned. Of course, he wasn’t good with emotions or being gentle and so he had left most of Bob’s bad days in the hands of Yelena while keeping his eyes on him from a distance. Probably better that way, considering his assholish tendencies.
“Come on, bud,” John tried once more, his tone remaining soft despite the way his jaw tightened. “We could get you some water and maybe a shower?”
There was a small shifting under the blankets and then came Bob’s soft croak. “No.”
Something snapped in Walker at that moment. Maybe it was the strain in the kids voice, like he hadn’t had water in hours, which he probably hadn’t. Maybe it was the way the smaller man’s frame looked, trapped under blankets and trembling. Maybe it was just that John cared a little more than he was willing to admit and he didn’t want to leave Bob in this state for a minute longer.
“Fuck it,” the blonde muttered before standing and grasping the blankets, yanking them off of the curled up man who shivered in response to the sudden air. John’s tone was no longer soft, but it wasn’t unkind, merely firm. “I tried Yelena’s approach, now we’re doing it my way. Get up, Bobby. You’re gonna take a shower and you’re gonna eat.”
The brunette at least looked at him, soft eyes flicking to John for a moment before he shrugged and closed them again. At least he had acknowledged John, which was more than the others got when they tried to coax him from his bed.
“Come on, Pretty Boy. You can either walk yourself or I can carry you, you’re choice,” John crossed his arms and huffed a bit, trying to sound put upon. This, at least, garnered a better reaction. Slowly and sluggishly, Bob sat up and scooted towards the edge of the bed where John stood. The younger man merely placed his head against John’s stomach, not moving other than that. Something in the blonde twisted at the motion, making his chest constrict and his face heat up. Still, he took that as consent and leaned down. “Have it your way.”
Thanks to his super soldier strength, it was surprisingly easy to carry Bob. John had arranged the other man’s limbs, putting his arms around Walker’s neck and grasping the man’s thighs to heft him up. Thankfully, Bob had helped by tightening his arms and legs, though he also used it as an opportunity to press his nose into John’s neck, only furthering the red rising in the blonde’s face.
“I got you, Pretty Boy,” John’s tone was fond, though he would deny it if ever confronted. He carried Bob to the bathroom, setting the man on the toilet so he could go about turning on the shower.
Finally, Bob looked up at him, eyes shining wetly as his hoarse voice croaked a “sorry”. Walker sighed, though he wasn’t mad at Bob, merely at the man’s tendency to apologize for basically existing. “Don’t be sorry, Bobby. I’m here.”
“You don’t want to be,” Bob muttered, probably thinking that Walker wouldn’t hear, but he had surprisingly good hearing despite his proximity to many explosions.
“Hey,” Walker’s tone was firm as he kneeled down in front of Bob, a frown twisted on his bearded face. He ducked to make sure that the younger man was looking at him as he spoke, wanting his words to land. “I don’t do shit I don’t want to. Not unless there’s a lot of money in it and no one is paying me to put you in the shower.”
Bob cracked a slight smile, though his limbs still remained at his side. The water was warm enough and Walker took the other man’s lack of movement as a sign that he would have to fully commit to this. Steeling himself, Walker reached for the hem of Bob’s sweater and began to tug it over his head, his oily hair splaying adorably after the neck of the sweater mussed it.
“This alright?” He asked, not wanting to be a complete asshole and just start stripping him without consent. Bob nodded, biting his lip and staring at the tiles. Walker heaved another sigh and kneeled down to peel the socks from Bob’s feet, thankful that he had managed to get the man into the bathroom because after three days his smell was ripe.
Taking Bob’s hand, John pulled him into a standing position so that he could begin to undo the tie on his sweats and tug them from his hips. He had seen naked men before, the army wasn’t known for it’s modesty when it came to the occasional shower, yet, he found himself averting his gaze as he undressed the brunette. Something about this was different, more intimate.
“I can- I can get in myself,” Bob told him, naked and hunched in on himself. He didn’t seem ashamed or uncomfortable, merely shy, as he stepped into the spray of the water and stood for a long minute.
“You got this?” Walker asked, quirking a brow and very pointedly not looking lower than Bob’s chest.
“Yeah,” Bob nodded. However, when Walker turned towards the door, his hand shot out with a move quicker than anything he had done in the last three days and fisted into the blonde’s shirt. Turning, John found Bob looking at the tiles again, his face heating up a bit. “Stay. Please?”
Taking a deep breath, Walker nods. The blonde takes a seat on the floor, cross legged and facing away from the shower. After a moment he hears a thud and shifts a bit in his spot, peering just slightly over his shoulder. “You good, Bobby?”
“Yeah,” Bob muttered. “Just didn’t want to stand up.”
The pair remained silent for a long moment, the only sound was the occasional sniffle from Bob and the sound of him scrubbing his hair. Some part of John felt a bit like he was intruding, but the brunette had asked him to stay. It was after a few minutes, when the steam began to fill the bathroom along with the lavender scented shampoo that Bob used that the man in question spoke, “You call me Bobby a lot.”
“Yeah, I guess,” John shrugged, vaguely remembering Yelena snapping at him for calling the kid that. Shit, did he not like it? John knew he was an asshole, but he didn’t actively go out of his way to antagonize people. Least of all Bob who was probably the nicest and shyest person that John knew.
“My dad used to call me that,” The man in the shower continued, shifting around behind John. The super soldier winced, feeling like an even bigger asshole than usual. How could he forget? He remembered hearing Bob’s dad shout that at him when they were in the Void, not to long before John had decked him which granted the blonde no small amount of satisfaction.
“Fuck, kid,” John groaned, feeling the guilt well up in his chest along, barely overpowering that twisting feeling that seemed to crop up around Bob. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”
“It’s okay,” Bob was quick to reassure him, which was kind of ironic considering he was the one so depressed that John had to carry him to the shower. “When it’s you, I like it.”
“Really?” John asked, not entirely sure how to take that, but he figured it was probably a good thing.
“Yeah. It used to make me think of bad things, but when you do it then I just think of you and you’re-” Bob cut himself off, seemingly at war with himself over whether or not to finish his thought. Eventually he did, taking a stuttering breath first. “You’re a good thing.”
“Thanks, Bobby,” John allowed a genuine smile to appear on his face, even if the kid couldn’t see it. “You’re a good thing too. And before you ask, yes, even when you haven’t gotten out of bed for three days and smell like body odor had a baby with garbage.”
“I washed,” Bob’s tone was pouty but with a hint of a smile and that alone made John’s shoulder’s sag with relief. He had gotten Bob out of bed, into the shower, and talking. Three for three. Now onto his fourth task.
“You all done then?” John asked, hearing the other man begin to move.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Alright, I’ll go get you some clothes,” John told him as he stepped out of the room and meandered over to Bob’s dresser, grabbing a soft looking sweater, some clean boxers, and a pair of sweats.
He went back into the bathroom and made sure to keep his gaze averted as he handed Bob the clothes. The man got dressed in slow motions and at one point he made a few distressed sounds, which caused John to turn to him, finding him tangled in the sweater, movements tired. The blonde took pity on the younger man and helped straighten him out.
The moment that his head popped through the sweater, John took in the other man’s hair which was barely dried, dark strands still dripping onto his fresh sweater. A wet sweater just seemed uncomfortable, so without much thought to his actions, John picked up Bob’s discarded towel and started rubbing it rather vigorously over his head, occasionally stopping to scrunch some of the ends of his floppy hair.
Once sufficiently dry, John dropped the towel and grabbed Bob’s hand. “Come on.”
The brunette allowed himself to be dragged from the safety of his bedroom and bathroom, John leading them through the hallways and into the common areas where the kitchen was. It was pristine from the blonde having cleaned it this morning.
“Sit,” John commanded, dropping the brunette’s hand near the table. Bob did as directed and sat down.
The super soldier trudged around the kitchen, dishes clanking mildly as Bob crossed his arms and leaned on the table. John was an okay cook, not the best but he could survive on his own without resorting to take out every night. However, at this moment he was trying to make something bland and simple, something that would be easy on the stomach of a man who hadn’t touched food in three days.
“Here. Eat,” John commanded in that stern tone that granted no arguments, yet did not come across as unkind. The blonde had placed a bowl of oatmeal intermixed with slices of banana in front of Bob, along with a slice of toast slathered in apple butter.
“Thank you,” Bob muttered as he poked at the oatmeal. John placed a bottle of water in front of him and a cup of tea before taking a seat next to him at the table, a cup of coffee in his own hand. He watched as Bob took a few bites of the food, clearly not interested in eating all of it, but John was only interested in getting something - anything - into the man’s stomach, even in small quantities.
After a good ten minutes, it looked as if Bob wasn’t going to eat anymore, but he had managed almost half of the bowl of oatmeal and a few bites of the toast, which was enough for Walker. The blonde stood up and held out his hand to the brunette without another word. Trusting him, Bob took the other man’s hand and allowed himself to be dragged to the large couch in front of the even larger television screen.
John tried to think of the least depressing show he knew of and ended up turning on Ted Lasso, which he had recently been binge watching when not on missions and found it to be the sort of heartwarming stuff that a person in Bob’s predicament might enjoy.
So, they sat, John kicking his feet up on the coffee table and leaning back while Bob settled next to him. The brunette was rigid, fiddling with his hands in his too long sleeves as his eyes flitted too and from the screen. With a deep sigh, Walker tilted his head and looked at the younger man. “Bobby, I just dragged you in and out of the shower and fed you. You can relax, I’m not going to bite you.”
After a bit of shuffling and swaying, Bob eventually scooted closer to John, relaxing next to the man. A moment later he was pressed against John’s side from shoulder to thigh, though Bob’s toes also gently touched John’s where their socked feet sat. Walker, very pointedly, did not react. He didn’t want to spook the younger man despite the way his own heart was thumping and twisting in his chest like some lovesick teen.
That’s the truth of it, wasn’t it? John was entering a lovesick era that he hadn’t experienced since he met his wife. Ordinarily, he might have panicked over the idea of being attracted to a man, but he had come to terms with his own sexuality a long time ago, though he did so quietly. He didn’t plan on acting on these feelings that had begun surfacing lately, though. Bob was fragile and needed friends more than anything else, care without some sort of expectation. He didn’t want to spoil that for the other man.
John was soon startled from his thoughts by a pressure on his shoulder, tufts of brown hair tickling his jaw. Bob had seemingly relaxed enough to settle himself against Walker completely, his head settling on the blonde’s shoulder and his body turned into him.
“Is-uh is this okay?” Bob asked nervously, turning his head up to look at John with large blue eyes.
Faking a put upon sigh, John threw his arm around Bob and squeezed the man closer, putting his chin on top of curly brown hair. “It’s fine, Bobby. Got you out of bed, showered and fed. I guess you deserve a hug, sort of.”
Bob visibly relaxed and turned his attention back to the show. That was how Alexei found them hours later, the pair pressed together from head to toe and snoring slightly. Bob had one arm slung over Walker’s stomach along with a leg flung over his thighs while John’s arm tugged the slightly smaller man closer, his nose pressed into the mop of brown hair. Both were snoring softly, completely ignorant to the large Russian man snapping photos of them.
After that, something changed. Some part of John’s asshole approach to Bob’s solitude, dragging him out of bed and forcing him to move, had evidently appealed to the brunette as he was now hardly far from Walker’s side. Over the next two weeks, he sat next to the blonde at dinner, watched Ted Lasso with him and even tried to go on a run with John that just ended up in them getting frozen yogurt halfway through.
Ordinarily, John would have been irritated. He had always been kind of a solo-guy, even having to take a break from team activities sometimes. Yet, for some reason he didn’t find Bob’s presence annoying at all, perplexing maybe, as he couldn’t see why the younger man had taken to him so much, but he wasn’t going to complain. He may have gloated a bit to Yelena, though.
It was a late night when he really understood what was happening. John had barely fallen asleep, having stayed up doomscrolling for far too long before he finally tossed his phone away from himself and turned his face into the pillows. Just when he had fallen into a somewhat restful sleep, he heard the creaking of his door and a soft voice call out, “John?”
The blonde bolted up, searching for the gun he used to sleep with but now kept in his dresser drawer thanks to the infuriating sense of security he had fallen into at the tower. Weaponless, he squinted at the door to see who his attacker was, only he found the silhouette of Bob, the hallway light casting him into a shadow that looked eerily like the Void, which Walker did not want to ruminate on.
“Fuck, what’s happening?” John asked, sitting up straighter and scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“It’s me, Bob. I uh- I couldn’t sleep,” came the soft voice from the doorway. “Could I- erm - would it be okay if I came in here with you?”
John took a deep breath, scrubbing a hand over his bearded face before gesturing for Bob to come in. “Close the door when you come in.”
Bob breathed a relieved sigh and pattered over to the bed, crawling under the blanket that John held up for him and pressing himself against the taller man. Walker didn’t have the energy to blush, it was too damn late, so he settled for tucking the blankets around the younger man and settling back down. “Did Yelena not wake up or something?”
Bob usually crept into her room for company after a nightmare, so John could only assume she had been unavailable. Beside him, the brunette shifted a little. “I didn’t check. I just came here…to you.”
“Oh,” John didn’t know how to respond to that, but he felt strangely touched that he had been the other man’s first choice. He made a mental note to hold this victory over Yelena’s head. “So, did you have a nightmare or something?”
“No, I just couldn’t sleep,” Bob shrugged as he spoke, the movement jostling John a bit where they were pressed together. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
John had never been great at comforting people with words, so he simply turned on his side, gathered the brunette into his arms and tugged him closer, resting his chin atop Bob’s head as the other man pressed his nose to John’s throat.
The pair lay there for a long moment, Bob relaxing more and more with each second that passed by. John, though, could only find himself feeling confused, as much as he tried to ignore the thoughts and delight in having Bob tucked into him. “Kid, can I ask you a question?”
“What is it?” Bob asked and John could feel the brunette’s mouth move against his throat, sending a shiver down his spine.
“How come you’ve been, ya know, attached to me these last couple weeks?” John asked, immediately feeling Bob tense in his arms. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s okay,” Bob spoke after a beat, pressing in a bit further as if he could hide in John’s arms. “I just… I liked you before, and then when I wouldn’t leave my room, you were the only one who wasn’t afraid to drag me out and make me listen. Everyone else seems scared I’ll go all Void again, but you weren’t.”
“Kinda didn’t occur to me to be honest,” John muttered, feeling a bit like an idiot in retrospect for not thinking about the repercussions of his actions.
“Exactly! And then you let me lay against you and it all just…”
“Just what?”
“It just made the whole liking you thing worse,” Bob admitted with as much of a shrug as he could muster while pressed against another person.
“Oh,” John felt that was a bit anticlimatic, but it was only a moment longer before the meaning of Bob’s words hit him fully, making him feel like an idiot for the second time in five minutes. “Oh. So when you say ‘like’ you mean…”
Bob tensed further, if that was possible, but he didn’t move from his spot buried in John’s neck. “I can leave if you want.”
“What? No! Look, Bob,” John scrambled, trying to think of a way to phrase this. He hadn’t had any kind of romantic feelings talk since he started dating his ex and at this moment he felt way out of practice. “I’m not upset. It’s not- you’re feelings aren’t- Goddamn, fuck it!”
In one quick move, John pushed Bob away from his chest, placed a hand on his face and stroked his jaw. His blue eyes were wide and lit up in the moonlight, making what John was about to do feel all the more inevitable. Slowly, so as to give Bob time to stop him, John leaned forward and pressed his lips to Bob’s.
It started out softly, just a gentle press of chapped lips to softer ones, until Bob realized what was happening and pressed closer. Once the younger man began to kiss back, John’s apprehension flew out the window and he pressed further, darting his tongue out to lick at Bob’s lips. The other man let out a whimper as he opened his mouth, allowing John to swipe his tongue inside, their bodies pressed from shoulder to toe.
When they finally pulled apart, Bob looked beautiful mussed, his lips red and wet, pupils blown wide and hair tousled. John could have looked at him forever, but another part of him wanted to press the other man into the mattress and wreck him even further. It took a lot of self control not to, but he didn’t want to press further, not tonight at least.
“Wait, so,” Bob’s eyes were peering widely at John in wonder. “So you feel the same?”
“Kinda thought that was obvious at this point, Pretty Boy,” John teased, tracing his fingers over the younger man’s cheekbones before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Bob’s jaw.
“Oh, good! That’s good,” Bob nodded, fully distracted the way John was mouthing and biting along his throat. Just when he was beginning to shiver, John pulled away from his neck and brought his hand up to stroke Bob’s cheek before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
“Come on, Kid. Close your eyes. Sleep,” The firm tone he had used on Bob that day two weeks ago evidently still worked, because the brunette closed his eyes and pressed his face into John’s chest. The pair drifted away together. A fleeting thought that John had was that he kinda hoped that Bob stayed attached to him.
And that maybe they could find a better fit for his firm tone that Bob responded to so well. Maybe in the morning.