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John’s cheeks were hurting by the time he was finally allowed to stop smiling. He had been standing on the stage for God knows how long, being blinded by the lights and having his ears railroaded by the sound of the speaker next to him. Once he was off the stage and sat in a chair, he slumped back into it and tried to pay attention to whatever Bucky was saying up there. This was their third vanity appearance of the week and the team was exhausted by the constant handshakes and photo ops with foreign dignitaries and domestics alike. Whenever he had to kiss someone’s ass, it made him miss getting shot at or punched. Right now they were at some conference organized by the House of Representatives for the newly revamped GRC and John couldn't care less about any of the stuff they had to say. The organization had lost a lot of its power after the incident with the Flag Smashers last year and most of its duties had been taken up by the new Captain America, Sam Wilson. He figured Sam should be there instead of them, but he was off dealing with political matters involving the aftermath of the President Ross incident. John usually didn't envy him, but he had to have been having a better time than what was going on here.
On stage, Bucky continued to speak about foreign relations and border skirmishes. It reminded John of their mission two weeks ago that had taken them to Poland to thwart a group of Hydra sycophants who tried to infiltrate a GRC compound containing the remains of anything—potential remaining serum—they had seized from the Flag Smashers. It had all been off the record of course, given their connection to the US government, and the GRC had claimed they alone stopped these miscreants. The convention had actually opened with a ceremony honoring the GRC team that engaged them and John had shaken every member’s hand a bit too hard when they were paraded by him. As Bucky stepped back to allow Val to add her own two cents to his speech, John closed his eyes and wondered if their table was far enough out of the way that no one would notice if he took a short nap.
He almost got comfy, before Ava leaned over and lightly punched him in the side.
“Are you actually falling asleep, John?” she asked. “After Bucky just gave that lovely speech too.”
He opened one eye and caught her trying not to burst out laughing.
“I saw you on your phone for half of it. Don't even start,” he replied.
She laughed quietly before leaning closer. “If I have to sit through one more speech I think I'm going to die. Yel feels the same. How about you?”
“You know how I feel.”
“Good. Let's get out of here then. No one is paying attention to us anyway. I need to stretch my legs.”
It was easy for the three of them to slip out unnoticed. Even Alexei, a certified helicopter dad these days, was too caught up in talking to a marketing intern about Avengerz branded fidget spinners to catch them. He and Bucky were the media personalities of the group anyway. On the way back to their dressing rooms, someone mentioned food and all three agreed that they were starving. They started brainstorming ideas of where they wanted to go which quickly led to Ava and Yelena getting into an argument about English cuisine. He knew better than to voice his own opinion on the matter and so he left them to their bickering and went to his own room.
When he shut the door behind him, he was surprised to find the place empty. Everything was in order except the duffel bag he’d thrown onto the table and haphazardly stuffed his street clothes into. His clothes were spilling out of it in a rare display of messiness from him. Beside it sat The Alchemist with a bright orange bookmark sticking out of the top and an empty can of Red Bull. He examined it briefly before tossing it in the trash can.
“Bobby?” he called. “You know you’re not supposed to be drinking this shit.”
No one replied, even when he knocked on the door to the side room and poked his head in. He sighed and started peeling off his suit, figuring Bob had gone to find a bathroom and would return soon. They still kept Bob under lock and key whenever a camera was nearby and never acknowledged his existence to outsiders. To the world, the Void had been a one off villain, quickly dealt with and destroyed. In reality, he spent his days doing dishes, running their communications center during missions, and burning cookies in the oven. Val hadn't been a fan of bringing him along, but he’d been going stir crazy as of late and the team agreed that there was no harm in leaving him backstage for a few hours.
Once he was dressed and relatively unrecognizable, he opened his phone. No new messages, except the 56 unopened ones from the group chat. He texted Bob to ask him where he was and when a few more minutes went by with no reply or knock on the door, he pulled out his communicator and activated the tracker. The entire team had one in their phones, but he only ever used it for Bob. It came in handy when he lived in a massive tower with hundreds of rooms for Bob to explore and get lost in when he got bored. Not to mention the miles of air vents Yelena was so fond of.
He found him in a kitchen, leaning against a counter and eating a jar of peanut butter. He kept his steps purposefully quiet until he was right behind him.
“Seriously?” he asked, smirking when Bob jumped and let out a yelp.
The younger man turned and glared, but softened when he saw who had interrupted his snack time. “It was unopened and I was hungry,” he said with a shrug. “Figured it was better to just go look for something rather than come bother you guys.”
John eyed the metal counter that now had a Bob sized handprint in it from where he’d gripped it in his brief terror, but said nothing. Instead he leaned against it and smiled fondly.
“Can’t take you anywhere.”
“Want some?” he asked.
There was an air of innocence about him as he stuck the spoon back in his mouth and stared up at John. His fluffy brown curls framed his face perfectly and caught the overhead lights so that they glowed like a halo. He was wearing a baggy hoodie, partially unzipped to reveal one of John's old military academy shirts peeking out. He looked ridiculously good.
“Sure, why not. Only a little though.”
Bob gave him a cheeky grin before pulling the spoon out and lightly dipping back into the jar. John briefly thought about the spoon being covered in Bob germs, but then he remembered that he'd done a lot worse with Bob’s mouth so it surely couldn't hurt. He ate and watched Bob screw the jar shut, then lean back on his elbows and look up at the ceiling. John let his gaze travel down his neck and the bruise underneath his jaw. It had been dark purple when he’d made it only that morning, but Bob healed fast and so now it was nothing more than a red mark that could've been caused by anything. He almost felt indignant against Bob's body rejecting the hickey. He'd worked hard to make it, seeing as how it was nearly impossible to leave marks on him at all.
“I’m still hungry,” Bob said. He lazily let his head fall to the side and sized up John. “I don't think this peanut butter is doing it for me.”
He felt himself heat up as those blue eyes looked him up and down, raking over his form. He bit his cheek and shifted his stance, willing away the desire coiling inside him. If he was ever grateful for anything, it would be that he had not taken a serum quite as powerful as Bob’s. The highly concentrated dosage flowed like golden ichor in his veins and made him insatiable at times, but John was usually strong enough not to spur it on by bending him over in a public place like this, even if his captivating eyes were now starting to glow. He set the spoon down and cleared his throat.
“You’re in luck then. Ava and Yelena wanted to sneak out and find food.”
“I’m more than down,” he replied.
A beeping filled the space and John looked down at his watch to see that it was five past noon. Ah yes, the Bob alarm.
“Did you take your pills?” he asked.
A normal person would probably take them at the beginning or the end of the day, but Bob never had normal days. He usually stayed up late to monitor the team from the tower when they were on missions and then slept late into the next morning. Noon was just easier for everyone. The whole team was on Bob to make sure he took them regularly, but John somehow found himself as their elected “Secretary of Void Management” after he and Bob started their relationship.
Bob rolled his eyes and slipped an altoids tin from his pocket, a holdover from his former life. He opened it to a mess of different colored tablets and expertly picked out what he needed. John didn’t remember their names but he knew there were three: a mood stabilizer, an antipsychotic, and one for nausea. Bob held out his palm so John could confirm the number. It wasn't as if he didn't trust Bob, quite the opposite actually. It was Bob who insisted on the counting just to make sure he stayed on track. He was all about accountability during his sobriety and treatment, and John couldn't be prouder of him.
He found a glass and filled it with water from the tap, setting it near him. Bob stared at the pills in his palm, moving them around absentmindedly. When he looked up and caught John’s eye, he didn't miss the flash of worry he saw on Bob’s face before he covered it with a shaky grin.
“I hate taking these things,” he said.
He stretched out a foot and rubbed it against Bob’s. “I know, Bobby. I know.”
John had been one of the ones Bob found comfort in when he first got his prescription and started the medication. The side effects were awful, but somehow pulled them closer together when John found himself cradling Bob after he developed tremors or making sure he stayed off his feet when he got dizzy spells. He was a lot better now, but John still comforted him all the same.
Bob eyed the glass of water before slowly looking back at him with heavy lidded eyes. His voice was low and husky when he spoke.
“Maybe you can stick them in a spoonful of peanut butter and feed them to me. Might make it more fun.”
John bit his cheek again, harder this time. “I’m not going to feed you pills like a dog,” he said in an uneven tone. He pushed the cup closer. “Just take them before your hair turns blonde and you start talking about foot massages and palm leaves.”
Bob chuckled and popped the pills in his mouth. He blew him an air kiss as he reached forward to take the water.
“I would need to miss a few days for that to happen and besides...” he trailed off, closing the distance between them. “I don't need to be Sentry to get you to rub my feet... Captain .”
He swallowed and wondered how Bob could have ever passed himself off as innocent and clueless when they first met in the vault. He thought of the confused barefooted man as Bob fixed a wrinkle in his shirt and deliberately ran his fingers down his torso.
“Fuck it,” John whispered.
He hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Bob’s jeans and pulled him flush against his body. Bob easily melted into him and kissed him hungrily. John deepened it with a barely suppressed groan. He tasted like peanut butter and strawberry apricot Red Bull. A terrible combo in theory that somehow made Bob all the more delectable. Bob’s arms came up to wrap around his shoulders and he could feel the restrained strength in them, their ability to crush the life out of him if Bob so chose. The image of it went straight to his lower regions as he turned his boyfriend and pressed his back into the counter.
“Let’s just ditch them and find someplace to be alone,” Bob said, pulling away to kiss along John’s jaw. “There has to be a closet with a lock on it somewhere around here.”
“Bobby…”
He tried to argue, but the man’s name came out of his mouth as a moan and he knew he was losing his nerve. Bob reached down to grab his thigh and slot it in between his legs where he could feel just how turned on Bob was.
“We could—fuck, John! We could go back to the tower.” The lights above them flickered briefly as Bob started to grind against John’s thigh. He trailed kisses down his neck, biting at the sensitive skin with teeth that could easily shred him. “You say I'm sick and they'll be more than happy to send me on my way. O-obviously you'll have to come along since I need someone to take care of me.”
John growled and brought his hands up to his waist, digging his fingers into his skin and pulling a whimper out of him.
“We can’t, what about—”
He and Bob stopped at the same time, their above average hearing detecting the sounds of familiar voices and footsteps heading their way. He locked eyes with Bob. The blue was completely gone by now, replaced with blazing swirls of gold. It was enough to make him weak in the knees and he almost leaned back in for another kiss before Bob turned his head away. He said nothing, but he had a hand gripping John’s bicep.
Later, I promise , the older man thought.
Bob nodded and pulled away. They had just enough time to put some distance between each other and make themselves look somewhat presentable before Ava and Yelena walked in.
“What on earth are you two doing in here?” Ava asked.
Bob held up his glass before taking a long sip. “Got thirsty. John found me and we started talking about the convention.”
Ava nodded, but Yelena glanced between them and quirked a knowing brow.
“Yes, that must have made for great conversation.” John caught her eye, but kept his face blank. She smiled. “We found a place a few blocks away. They have pizza and fries and milkshakes, all buffet style. You know, the stuff Bob eats.”
“Yes!” Bob said, pumping his fist in the air.
***
One short sobering walk and a suspiciously acquired credit card bearing the name ‘James Barnes’ later, and they were seated at a table with an ungodly amount of food between them. Bob had loaded five pieces of pizza on his plate before the server had even finished setting their drinks down, prompting the young woman to stare at him with wide eyes. By the time she returned with the napkins Yelena requested, he was down to one piece.
“Bob, could you at least try to act normal? We’re not supposed to draw attention to ourselves,” Ava said.
“I’m being normal,” he replied with a mouthful of pizza.
John grabbed a napkin and set it in Bob’s lap, though it was unlikely to do any good. “Let the man enjoy himself. I’m sure plenty of people come in here and scarf down entire pizzas in minutes,” he said.
He had also grabbed a large amount of food, but Bob was a quick eater. He knew it had something to do with his past, but he didn't push it. As long as he was eating, it was good. Super soldiers needed to eat more than normal humans, even the ones that never saw the field.
They continued to eat in quiet camaraderie. Yelena told him what he had missed at the convention while Ava interjected every now and then with snarky remarks. John found himself listening as well, realizing he really hadn't paid attention to a single second of the event. He enjoyed Yelena’s use of a breadstick to mimic Val sauntering onto the stage before she took a bite of the cheesy appetizer. What he wouldn't give to see that happen in real life.
Bob was halfway through a plate of fries when he perked up and looked at the far end of the place. “Is that an arcade?” he asked.
Ava nearly broke her neck with how fast she spun her head around. “No way.” She grinned. “I’ve never been to one of those.”
John followed their gaze to a large archway lined with blinking lights. The sign above said ‘game on’ in bright pink neon. He smirked. “I'm surprised, given your innate sense of immaturity.”
She held up a plastic knife and pointed it at him. “Next time I bury this in your eye socket.”
He held up his hands in mock defeat and made a soft sound of terror. She continued to glare until Bob reached over and pretended to give John an uppercut for his attitude. That made her laugh even if she still muttered something about him being a dick under her breath.
“You are very lucky, Walker,” Yelena said. “You will not always have Bob to protect you.”
“As if I need protection.”
The statement was followed by a scoff, but he felt it die in his throat when he looked over at Bob. He had a mouth full of pizza crust, but he was looking at John intensely. His eyes were even bigger than usual and filled with enough love to make his heart clench. He knew what he was saying was bullshit, the entire team knew by now. He’d take that protection and then some if it meant being able to keep Bob by his side. He was lucky enough to get a second chance at love in his rather unsubstantial life and he wasn't going to fuck up this time around.
“They look like they're about to start sucking each other’s faces off,” he heard Ava say somewhere in the distance.
“Should we leave them before it gets messy?” Yelena replied, giggling.
He managed to pull himself back into reality and stole a fry from Bob’s plate. “That won't be necessary. I would hate to be an inconvenience to either of you two.”
The women shared a glance that had him wishing he’d acquiesced and let Bob drag him off to some broom closet earlier. Thankfully the teasing stopped there and they returned to their food.
A while later, after Bob had finished off even more pizza, he quietly asked Ava if she wanted to go to the arcade with him.
“If that's okay with you guys, of course,” Bob added. “I don't want to just ditch you.”
John patted him on the back. “Go have fun. There’s no earth shattering crisis to attend to right now.”
Bob smiled and leapt forward to give him a kiss on the cheek before making a beeline for the arcade. Ava was slower to get up, making a sound of derision as she pushed her chair in.
“No ‘innate sense of immaturity’ for our precious Robert, hmm?” she asked.
He said nothing in reply, choosing to take a drink of Bob's abandoned lemonade and shrug instead.
“That's what I thought.”
She snatched the credit card off the table and followed after Bob, leaving John and Yelena to finish their food. They talked about more serious matters over the few remaining pretzel bites. There were the ongoing issues between their team and Sam Wilson’s, a smashed window on the fifth floor of the tower that maintenance was taking their sweet time getting around to fixing, rumours of a planned uprising in southern France that was supposedly being sponsored by the Power Broker, and a dinner party next month that Bucky had gotten them all invited to that none of them wanted to attend.
“Do we know what the dress code is yet?” John asked.
“Black Tie.”
They both cringed. He’d rather go stop that uprising than get choked by a starched collar and mingle with rich snobs. It didn't help that he couldn't even down a few cocktails and get a pleasant buzz to counteract the company.
“Alexei should have fun,” he said. “He can network to his heart's content.”
“That's what I'm afraid of. Bucky will put me on Dad duty all night to make sure he doesn't sign away his life or something.” She dragged an onion ring through a river of sriracha on her plate. “Speaking of watching people… did he take his pills?”
He glanced toward the arcade, but there had been no sign of Bob or Ava since they left. “I still don't see why I have to be his keeper. You’re the one who bonded with him first.”
“But you are the one who captured his heart, now spill. Did he take them?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “Good. He's been doing so much better as of late. I attribute at least some of that to you, SecVoid.”
That nickname. Ugh. At least she hadn't changed his contact to that like Ava and Bucky had.
“We've all improved. Forced friendship works wonders, I guess.”
At first he had been less than enthused by Valentina's announcement of them being a team, but with time he had grown to tolerate his new roommates. One could even say he had grown to like them, but it wouldn't be John who spoke it out loud.
Yelena was just tossing out the rest of their trash when John ventured over to the arcade. It was the middle of the day on a weekday and so the place was barren except for one or two people off in the corners. He spotted Ava and Bob, who were leaning into each other and conspiring over something. When he reached them, Bob only turned to give him a small wave before he stepped up to what he now saw was a punching bag.
He felt Yelena materialize at his side and they both watched as Ava slipped a token into the slot.
“Alright, Boy Wonder. Do this and we eat like kings,” she said.
“I don't think you can pay for food with arcade tickets,” Bob replied.
She shushed him and slapped him on the ass. “You have no imagination. Think bigger. Alexei will trade anything for Butterfingers and they had a whole box of them at the prize counter. Now punch!”
Bob had been working day and night to get a grasp on his powers and, though it was slow going, he had taken great strides in establishing control over the basics. For one thing, his super strength was exceptional. They had tested his grip strength once and found that it couldn't not be measured even with an industrial tool. He could flick someone and snap their bone like a twig if he wasn't paying attention.
Luckily, an arcade machine was far from a human being and so he didn't have to play it so safe. He barely hesitated before hitting the thing. The glass on the score counter immediately cracked, but he was able to hold back his powers enough that he didn't destroy the whole rig. John was impressed. The screen lit up with a row of nines as a bundle of tickets poured forth.
“High score!” Bob cheered, turning to high five Yelena.
The light bulb floating over her head practically sparkled as Ava picked up the tickets and counted them. She locked eyes with Bob and smirked.
“Up for some training?” she asked.
Bob grinned, but then he looked at John and became sheepish. If Bucky had been there, he'd squash their whole operation before it could get off the ground, but he was still talking to congressmen. John came second in terms of responsibility, but any objection he had could easily be thrown out by Bob's involvement.
“I don't see any issue here, as long as you don't overdo it,” he said.
Bob hugged him with the force of a head-on collision with a train before Ava grabbed him and dragged him off to the next game. And so it went for the next hour. Game after game, with Yelena cheering them on while John nervously looked around to make sure no employees were watching them. He was sure telekinesis had never been used to lift a plushie into the jaws of a claw machine quite so much. Yelena even had to swipe some tickets to go redeem a tote bag at the prize counter so they had something to shove their winnings in.
When they convinced John to take a turn or two, he had to demand that Bob not help him win. And he did for the most part. It allowed John to awe him with his skills as he tossed a basketball into a hoop 16 times in a row without missing. It also allowed him to brutally beat Ava in an intense round of air hockey. When they got to skee ball, all of them except Bob played at the same time. He watched from a spot between Ava and Yelena and was clearly helping them, but John didn't pay much attention to them. He was doing pretty well himself, hitting the highest hole twice. When he rolled for a third time, he saw the minute jerk of the ball as it went in and an automated whoop came from the speaker of the machine.
He glanced over at Bob, but his boyfriend was focused on helping Thing 1 and Thing 2 get perfect scores. Bob’s hands were deep in the pockets of his hoodie, but he could see the muscles of his wrists denote his twitching fingers. John continued his game, never seeing a ball move again, but feeling the heat of someone's golden gaze on his back all the same. When they finished and Ava and Yelena stood counting their tickets, Bob came over to him.
“Sick moves, John,” he said casually. “You play skee ball a lot?”
“Not really, I usually went for Galaga when I was a kid,” he replied.
Bob hummed as he moved closer, removing a hand from his pockets and using it to push some hair out of John’s face. The minute his fingers touched skin, John saw exactly what Bob wanted to be doing right now. He said no words, just projected a series of images into his thoughts. Each was dirtier than the last and it made him shudder.
Bob smiled innocently. “I love Galaga.”
He left John standing there and went back to their friends, practically skipping as if he wasn't the most evil little gremlin John had ever met.
It was Yelena who finally decided they had enough tickets and it was time to raid the prize counter. To say they cleaned them out was an understatement. The employee just stared unblinkingly as he handed the last bag to Ava, a tote filled with candy bars that she handled like it was precious stones. They were all so engrossed in their attempts to decide who would be carrying what that they almost missed the buzzing of a communicator. When John pointed it out, Yelena dropped a bag and pulled hers out.
Bucky sounded less than over the moon when they crowded in a corner and answered his call.
“Where the fuck are you guys?” he groaned. Alexei could be heard in the background spouting something about kidnappers.
“We went to find food and lost track of time. This arcade is sweet though,” Ava replied.
“Are you kidding me!? Whose idea was this?”
They all looked at each other and nodded in silent agreement. Who was the least likely to incur the wrath of the Winter Soldier?
“It was Bob,” Yelena said. “He needed to get out anyway. I didn't think it would hurt. Wasn't that why we brought him in the first place?”
“Yes, but not to— Okay fine, whatever. Just get your asses back here before Val realizes you gave her the slip. Mel is already asking questions.”
On the walk back, it was decided that the bulk of the toys would go to John’s son. He could already see Olivia’s look of horror at the mess their toddler was about to make with this king’s ransom, but he only wished his son could have even more.
Bucky gave them all a death glare as they snuck backstage, but softened when Bob handed him a Sam Wilson Captain America plush. He might have even cracked a smile or it could have been a trick of the light. Alexei only complained about them not letting him tag along and not so subtly eyed the bag of candy that Ava was pretending to hide from him.
In the car ride home, Bob laid his head on John’s shoulder and let out a tired sigh. They had been made to get dressed again and sit through the second half of the convention until the sun fell. In front of them, the team was making plans to order Chinese when they got home.
“You okay?” John asked.
Bob nodded.
John reached into his bag of arcade junk and pulled out a plush alligator.
“Got you something,” he said, handing it over.
Bob took the gift and turned it over in his hands. “When did you get this?”
“I took a few turns on the claw machine while you and Ava were getting embarrassed by Yelena at air hockey. Go gators, right?”
Though Bob rarely talked about his past, he had mentioned he was from Florida when he caught John watching the Georgia game in the common room.
“I'm from Sarasota so I was actually a USF fan growing up.”
“Oh.”
He must have said it in a funny way, because Bob sat up and grabbed his arm. “But I do like alligators!” he said with a bit of alarm.
John grabbed blindly in the dark for Bob's head, pulling him back down on his shoulder and tangling his fingers in his hair. “Shhh, you’re okay, Bobby.”
Bob sighed again and pressed himself closer, grabbing his free hand in a tight grip.
“But you better stop drinking those damn Red Bulls. They’re terrible for you.”
All he got in verbal reply was a quiet chuckle.
One word, hypocrite, echoed in his mind followed by the image of him eating onion rings and pizza.
Love you too, Bobby.