Work Text:
He was going to kill Clint’s friend. Within the past hour he planned eight perfect ways to do it. He’s never going on a blind date ever again.
Ryan was a whole bunch of regret that Brock currently had to deal with right now. This was definitely the first and last time he ever let one of Clint’s stoner friends suggest someone to him. He was interested in tall, dark and handsome. This guy was the same height as him which turned him off immediately, was dark because his spray tan was set on burnt toast and the guy had no neck because he was so bulked out it wasn’t possible.
He waddled for Christ sakes when he strolled into the juice bar that was next door to where he works and instantly Brock was reminding himself not to mention his place of employment just in case.
This was the prime reason he didn’t do setups through friends, friends is an understatement. He’s not sure entirely how far Clint and Matt go, they get high a lot but their conversations usually consist of laughing at weird things that sound philosophical and thoughtful but are downright idiotic.
Brock’s definitely going back to one night stands.
The worse part about it is that this guy seems really into him. Brock barely gets a word in edgewise, not that he cares, he mostly fights to hold back a cringe watching the skin move as Ryan talks. It’s like trying to stretch old thick leather, it’s fucking gross especially when they’re both in their late twenties. The guy could easily pass for his uncle Sal who lives in Florida right now and embraces open shirts and thick gold chains like he’s a character in Grand Theft Auto, holy shit it’s that bad.
He’s also a little creepy. They ordered some fruit smoothies and sat down together; Ryan talked, Brock tried not to vomit all over himself thinking about leatherface from Chainsaw Massacre and his mind flashed images of this dude making O faces in bed. His brain was being a real asshole and it only got worse when the guy started making hints that maybe they should kick the date up a notch and head back to Brock’s place. He had enough sense to laugh about it without sounding like a dick and shook his head, saying something about a roommate being home with friends. It wasn’t entirely a lie, it could be possible, he didn’t know.
For the moment though, as Brock reluctantly exited the building with him, he regret a new leaf he was trying to turn over about not being such a jerk to people. Right now would be an absolutely amazing time to be but he decided to test his patience and carry on which for right now was a stroll on the sidewalk together. As together as they could, he held himself a step back so the guy’s arm wouldn’t come into contact with his and he took up most of the area with his over compensating muscles.
While they were outside the conversation was still about weight lifting and what the guy could do, going on and on like Brock had never lifted a weight in his own entire life when it was relatively obvious that he did. The guy refused to stop staring at him as he was talking, eyes roving over him like a fucking creep too. At least Brock could slip on some sunglasses this way while the sun was going down over the horizon and look vaguely in Ryan’s direction as he nodded like he was listening when he was really looking for a way out.
Near the end of the block, Brock knew there was going to be only one shop left before they were hitting residential area and unless Brock wanted to start jumping people’s yard fences and hope for the best he wasn’t sure what to do to shake the guy off.
“Didn’t you say you live a few blocks down from here?”
Oh Christ. Did he? Fuck.
“Uh, yeah..I guess.”
Ryan moved in closer and Brock stepped sideways casually, pretending to look at one of the cars parked at the curb, he thought he made it perfectly clear about going back to his place but evidently he didn’t. There was no damn way this guy was knowing where he was living, no way.
They were coming up towards his last commercial sanctuary and Brock gave a casual gesture towards it, “Mind if we go inside? Gotta get some stuff in here.”
Ryan crinkled his leathery face in confusion, “You said you didn’t have any pets.”
Oh. So he remembers that bit of info but not the refusal to come to his home. Fucking hell.
“I don’t but my friend does, gotta new pup and said he was runnin’ low on food and those piss pads. Figure I’m here might as well grab ‘em for ‘im.”
“Sure..” Ryan let out, pushing his wide self in first as Brock once again thought about running away but some of those builders had amazing speed. He grimaced at thick back muscles looking at him in a barely concealing anything tank top. He took his sunglasses off and looked around the brightly lit pet store, beady eyes on him as he gave the girl a small absent wave when she greeted them. Plus if he ran and the guy didn’t catch up, he may know where his apartment is and that would be fucking worse. Being watched like a hawk was getting really uncomfortable.
There was a wall of pet toys made for dogs and the dog food aisle started at the other far end, shelves high and packed, maybe there was a back door out there? He pointed towards the toys, “Hey ya mind checkin’ out some of them toys? I know there’s some thick rope ones his dog likes the last time we were here, if you could grab a couple I’m gonna get the dog food.”
“Sure thing, really nice that you’re doing this for your friend. Maybe if we get to know each other some more one day we’ll be doing this together too huh?” Ryan replies with a grin.
Brock fights a grimace and shrugs with one shoulder as he laughs. The guy doesn’t move until Brock does and when he does he suddenly feels like eyes are on his ass which usually wouldn’t bother him but right now he picks up the speed and ducks around into the first aisle.
..and into a wall of solid flesh.
“Shit, sorry.” Brock spat out as he stepped back, hands up automatically in casual surrender only to see Mr. tall, dark and handsome gripping his arms firmly as he looked at him in mild surprise.
“You okay?”
Shit. He was gorgeous, the height, the build. Everything. He was sporting stubble, brown hair, green eyes, a scar on the right side of his face that only added to his hotness level and Brock was reeling.
“Me? Okay? Sure yeah, fine.”
Amusement crossed mystery guy’s face, letting go of Brock’s arms and giving him a nod, “Good.”
He moved to leave and everything up to the present suddenly hit Brock all at once, arm shooting out to stop him.
“Actually I ain’t okay, can ya help a guy out?” He blurted out in a low voice, peeking around the corner to see Ryan examining a squeak toy.
Hottie looked over with him and a small amused snort came out of him that Brock smirked at because he just had to understand what issue he was having.
“I don’t meanta hold ya up but that juicehead is a blind date and he’s fuckin’ creepy and I know I probably don’t need to defend myself against the toasted marshmallow but I’ve been tryin’ to be a nice guy but shit you’ve gotta be seein’ what I’m seein’.” He wrapped his hand firmly around tall, dark and handsome’s wrist desperately, “Please- ”
“Brock, I hope these were the ones you meant- ” Ryan let out as he rounded the corner and froze with a few toys in hand staring at Brock and mystery guy staring at each other.
Brock tilted his head so only his savior saw brows go up before he turned to face Ryan, “Ryan! Uh, so. Yeah, this is- ”
“Jack.”
The man let out behind Brock and God he did really sound hot as fuck. Brock had to restrain himself from biting down on his lip and letting his eyes flutter closed just thinking about how good he’d sound just talking or telling him dirty little things he’d want to do to him because holy-
Not now.
Right so.
Ryan was looking at Jack with a squint like he was supposed to look threatening but it only came out looking like his face was pinched and he was constipated.
“Brock’s ex-boyfriend..not that it was supposed to be actually what happened, was it?”
Blinking slowly as Brock stepped back so he could see both Jack and Ryan at the same time, he took a few seconds to process that this perfect specimen was actually playing along and Brock was falling in love with him bit by bit, suddenly shrugging at Jack, “You said you wanted a break remember? All too fuckin’ clear what that means.”
Jack straightened up and mimicked Brock’s helpless gesture, “A break is a break. I needed space, not to break up with you.”
Ryan’s eyes went from Jack to Brock and then back to Jack before leaning up to look a bit taller as he was about to say something when Brock slid his foot forward slightly to throw him off and turn just barely to look at Jack.
“The last fuckin’ time you wanted space you left for three months, remember? How was I supposta to feel?!” His hand came out and the heel of it smacked Jack’s solid chest with a dull thud and this was way too hot for him right now.
“It was a job thing Brock, you knew that. You knew I was going to come back to you and we were gonna figure out what we really wanted during the separation. It wasn’t a break up!” Jack ground out, faking a look of frustration, shoulders bunching together and nose flaring. Brock was trying not to grab him and take him home on impulse alone.
Brock decided to kick it into a new gear just to test the waters, “What about the stripper then when I came to surprise ya in hopes we got together again with a visit then?!”
Ryan’s eyes went big, “Stripper?”
Not missing a beat, Jack rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance, “I keep telling you, she wasn’t a stripper, she was a burlesque dancer, there’s a difference and I didn’t even do anything with her. She just needed a place to stay for a couple days.”
Brock glared at him, “She was standin' in the middle of your hotel suite in a towel Jack!”
“ -And I was in the bedroom changing because I had to go to work. I wasn’t fucking her.”
“I thought you fuckin’ loved me asshole.” Brock practically whimpered out, strain in his voice that he hoped was heard as emotional pain more than the laughter he was trying to hold back.
“I do love you- ” Jack blinked as he moved in, resting hands on Brock’s shoulders, large and warm. He acted like he was shocked, maybe a little startled, “I mean, I did love you..”
Brock gazed up at perfect green eyes because damn they were gorgeous up so close, “You..still love me..?”
Jack turned his head away with a huff, dramatically staring down the aisle like he was fighting with himself, “Don’t Brock. You know exactly how I feel.”
Brock pulled at him, “How? How when you don’t even talk to me?”
He turned to Ryan who was still clutching the toys, “He never talks, he’s gotta be some damn strong silent type of dick all the time. I can’t read his damn mind!”
“Uh..” Ryan let out, not knowing what to say.
At this point two staff members were close by but they were more curious than anything looking like they were ready to pull up a chair and a tub of popcorn.
Jack stepped back, shaking his head, “You always want me to talk, I prefer listening. Unlike you, you have to tell everyone the shit we do when you get drunk, like my parent’s wedding anniversary party.”
Brock’s brows went up, “Hey! Your parents loved my whole entire speech, it was a good one considerin’ how fucked up I was!”
Snorting, Jack shook his head in disbelief as he folded his arms over his chest, “Oh, right. I especially loved the part where you told the whole ballroom of people that your ass was feeling worse from the beard burn I gave you last night because we were fucking in the coat room not thirty minutes earlier.”
And damn, Brock was totally okay with suffering from beard burn if this guy was offering hypothetically..in a fake memory. He could always make it reality..if he liked.
Keep it together Rumlow.
“Yeah well,” He sputtered, throwing his hands up dramatically trying not to think about how that woulda been if it was true, “Can’t be quiet about amazin’ sex Jackie, just can’t.”
There was a glint in Jack’s eye that was a blink and you’ll miss it moment, a thrill running through Brock when he realized he was already giving him a pet name and they smiled at each other, a smirk crossing handsome features that told Brock this guy was going to kick it up a further notch because he was having fun.
Stick a fork in him, he was done. Brock was so fucking done. No one would top this guy for him.
Jack partially turned to Ryan like he had a sudden thought, giving him a hard stare and stepping threateningly close to the man who was gaping at him in surprise, “You touch him? You two haven’t screwed around have you because if you’ve done anything with him I’ll- ”
Brock watched Ryan let out a surprised no and back up a step, this wasn’t a good time for him to get a boner, it wasn’t. Seriously.
“I haven’t done anything with him!” Ryan yelped out, his back bumping into the shelving.
Brock took his cue and swept in between the both of them, hands pressing against Jack’s wonderful chest because damn he definitely works out full time. “Aw c’mon sweetheart. You know I ain’t like that, been too hung up on you to be sleepin’ with someone else. I can’t Jackie, always been you. I love ya, always loved ya. I still do.”
“Yeah?” Jack drawled out lowly, tongue peeking out to lick lips and Brock watched in absolute fascination.
Brock smiled at him, “Yeah. No bullshittin’.”
And before he could react, Jack had an arm around him and pulled him into his space to kiss him. It wasn’t some terrible peck either, he was kissing him full on and Brock made a small sound of surprise. Then he was feeling Jack’s tongue sweeping across his bottom lip and Brock was throwing his arms around Jack’s neck to keep him close, parting lips to let him have whatever he wanted.
There was an utter of ‘What the hell?’ and the soft thud of maybe dog toys hitting the floor before heavy purposeful footsteps were speed walking away from them. Though honestly Brock couldn’t feel bad because he was really into Jack using his teeth against his bottom lip and having his tongue invade while their mouths were moving together.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed between them before he had to draw his head back for air, faces still close as they caught their breath and stared at each other.
“I think he’s gone.” Jack mumbled with a playful smile, bumping Brock’s nose one last time even though he didn’t pull away.
Brock looked over his shoulder and saw that indeed there was nothing but toys on the floor and a fallen bag of dog food, two employees in work shirts lingering around at the mouth of the aisle but certainly not worried about any fight breaking out like they were prior to the kiss.
Licking his lips absently as he continued feeling the warm tingle over them he flashed Jack a casual smile although he felt anything but, pulling off him and stepping back, “Uh, so..thanks for helpin’ a guy out with that. I wasn’t sure what the hell to do and I woulda jus’ probably ran past my damn neighborhood and kept on goin’ ‘til I lost ‘im.” He shrugged and tried to ignore the encroaching memories of Jack’s tongue and ideas of it exploring the rest of his body, his face flushing as did the rest of his body. “Sorry if I wasted yer time.”
Jack shook his head, hand absently brushing off the sentiment with a smile, “You didn’t. I had fun, was glad to be of service.”
Looking sheepish, Brock bit his lip a little, “Sorry bout announcin’ to all your parent’s guests while I was sayin’ my speech that you aggravated the beard burn on my ass from the sex we had earlier in the coat room.”
“That’s okay.” Jack’s smile lingered, amusement in his eyes. “As long as you still enjoyed it. I was glad to take care of you when we got home anyway.”
“You were always good at that; both sex and takin’ care of me.” Brock complimented with perfect seriousness, maybe he was peeking at him a little coyishly, maybe.
“I can do you one better.” Jack let out casually as he leaned up against the shelf, watching as Brock raised his brow curiously, “Nothing’s better than getting the best of both worlds with the added extra attention that comes with makeup sex.”
Brock stared at him in stunned silence, more or less wondering if he was dreaming right now.
Jack faltered a bit, “Uh..unless you feel like just going for a coffee first, maybe?”
“Fuck that,” Brock breathed out when he came back, grabbing Jack’s hand and starting out of the aisle for the front doors, “I got coffee at home you can drink later, much later. Like in the damn mornin'.”
Thank the Gods for blind dates.
