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The mission was over within a day of it being assigned. A simple smuggling ring bold enough to operate out of the closest port to the Avengers Tower. For once everything went according to plan. No one on the team even got shot. But they had gotten lost.
John was spread out obnoxiously in the back seat of the van. Yelena and Ava argued about directions in the front. Bucky’s voice came through the car speaker. He was doing his best to direct them as if his perception of New York streets wasn’t a century behind.
“It’s a grid system guys…” Bob’s voice added to Bucky’s over the call.
“I don’t even think we're in the city anymore.” Ava shook her head as she strained to look out the window.
“Google maps, I am begging you.” John spouted off from the back. The noise of the street was getting too loud for him to ignore and the usual post mission headache was slowly building. This miserable side effect of the serum was obviously never advertised. Or maybe he was the only super soldier who got it. Alexei and Bucky certainly never let it show.
His nerves were cranked up to eleven. Every noise was louder, every light brighter. It was all handy in a fight, the heightened senses had saved his ass more than once. But it took way too long to settle once he was back from the front line. God, this was fucking killing him.
He should be back in his room at the Tower by now. With its black out curtains and noise machine he pretended it was just an alarm clock when anyone else walked in.
“No maps. I know where I am.” Yelena was practically pressed to the steering wheel. She braked hard at every intersection to peer down for landmarks. She only succeeded in sending all three of them flying forward repeatedly.
It was as if his collar was drawing blood. Everytime he moved his head it sliced into him. Although he knew better he felt for a wound, checking his hand for red only to exacerbate the headache when he opened his eyes.
It hadn’t cut him. It never had. But having damn near anything touching his skin right now felt like scraping sandpaper over his body.
Super Soldier = super senses. Sounds swell on paper. But damn is it fucking annoying when the woman who dibbed driving has no clue where you are. He could. Feel. Everything. The air is screaming from the vents. The rumble of the engine. It was horribly overwhelming.
Suddenly Yelena opted to run a red light. Horns sounded from all around them. It was like a siren was going off in his skull. John ground his teeth together, struggling not to shout as his ears begged for quiet.
His own tears were overwhelming as they welled in his eyes. Like second degree burns he could trace the heat that seeped down his face. As overstimulating as the movement was, John quickly pulled his bureau down over his face. He felt scratched as his skin burned. At least it somewhat cut down on the scent of the New York streets.
“John?” Ava screamed. No, John corrected the perception, “John are you okay?”
Jesus Christ this was humiliating.
“Fine Ava.” His own voice echoed painfully in his skull.
“You don’t look fine.” Yelena argued. John hugged from behind his bureau.
“Can you just get us home please?”
The women both startled at the niceties. Looking to each other with more concern for the supersoldier then they thought possible. Did John Walker really just say please?
“Yeah okay,” Yelena hung up on Bucky without a goodbye and began quickly tapping on her phone between glances back to the road. Ava peered at the map then delicately informed John of the result.
“Fifteen minutes. Traffic.”
John hummed his response. They knew better than to expect a thank you but Yelena could swear she heard one beneath the busy sounds of the city around them.
She drove carefully, well, as carefully as the daughter of the Red Guardian could. Whatever was going on with John was, as usual, something deeply painful that he refused to discuss.
Ava texted Bob the whole way back. He met them at the main floor, a cool water bottle and a bottle of ibuprofen in hand.
John kept his gaze low, wincing in the light that poured through the glass walls.
“Are you good for the elevator?” He asked quietly as Ava and Yelena watched on.
John winced and peered at the open jaws of the elevator. He weighed his options. The ache in his body vs. the panic that hit him in the elevator the last time he used it.
“I’ll be with you…” He whispered, it was a powerful reassurance John opted not to acknowledge.
“Elevator.” Was all John managed to say.
“You guys go ahead-” Bob nodded to Ava and Yelena. Who, despite the looks of worry carved into their faces, smartly listened to the man in the chunky sweater.
After all Ava had opted to text Bob instead of Alexei for a reason.
As the elevator landed back in front of them Bob turned to watch John. He was shaking. Not so much as a leaf but enough for the man with him to notice.
“I could–” Bob offered his hand, the small movement causing John to flinch. He suddenly pushed past Bob and settled himself in the elevator, eyes still on the floor.
He was shaking even more now.
“Things are pretty intense for you right now aren’t they?” Bob asked although he was pretty sure he knew the answer. After a drawn out pause John huffed a light laugh. Immediately wincing at the effort.
The elevator started and John moved quickly to take the hand Bob had offered. He didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything, just squeezed his hand tightly.
Bob had instructed the elevator to spit them out on the main residence floor. And to John’s great relief, it did.
Hand’s still clasped, the men walked steadily to John’s room. Bob felt as if he was leading the way and when he glanced at John he realized the man's eyes weren’t even open.
That’s trust he definitely did not expect.
When John’s door opened for his bio-metrics Bob had to swallow even more shock.
He would have had to manually add them himself. Or ask Val to get them added which Bob was pretty sure John would rather lose in a race with Yelena than do that.
As the door closed behind them John suddenly flushed a deep red.
“You okay?” Bob asked, forcing himself to drop John's hand.
“Yep.” John squeaked out. It would have been adorable if Bob wasn’t so concerned.
It was dark in the room. Thick black curtains were drawn across the window blocking the late afternoon light. A small lamp on John’s bedside glowed warm; casting a gentle atmosphere around the room. He might have called it romantic lighting under other circumstances.
“Would you help me?” John muttered delicately. He gestured halfheartedly to the shoulder of his suit. From doing the laundry Bob knew a zipper was tucked nicely away, hidden by the star and stripes.
“Of course,” Bob was surprised to see relief wash over John’s face. Had he expected a no?
Bob moved slowly, listening intently for any word of objection from John as he helped him undress. Bob peeled the suit from his sensitive skin, politely looking away from his bare chest.
Clad in only his boxers John seemed to finally be over the peak of hypersensitivity. That suit, as much as he loved it, was hell to deal with when his hands were all but seized into fists post mission. Sometimes he wondered if he would have never taken the serum had he known about this frustrating side effect.
Bob was acting as if he was fragile. Made of glass. To a point that was exactly how John felt. A breeze too strong could overwhelm him at this point.
Bob helped him lay down. He held his breath as his body adjusted. Ultimately the firm mattress brought welcome relief.
Bob stood above him watching him settle. The embarrassment he’d felt in the van with Ava and Yelena had faded. Although he could hardly believe it, Bob had stayed. Helped him when he could have just left him at the door. Could have left him quivering in the elevator. Could have laughed in his face when he asked him to help him get that damned suit off.
Bob had undressed him respectfully. Almost clinically. John almost thanked the freaked out state his body was in lest he have a less than honourable reaction to his aid.
“Do you want me to stay?” Bob whispered.
He needed to say no. The fact was that having another person in the room was triggering him. Whatever animalistic drive was ruling over him right now didn’t care that it was Bob. Yet John wanted so badly to keep him here.
“No, you can go.” John forced himself to answer. Bob made to leave but paused, his hand on the doorknob.
“Can I come check on you?” Bob rushed through the question, as if scared to ask it. “In like a few hours maybe? I’ll bring you something to eat.” John’s heart raced and he felt his face flush. He prayed Bob would blame the over stimulation.
“Yeah, please..”
“Great okay,” He froze again, “You know John I-We,” he corrected quickly, “We all care about you, you don’t need to hide this…”
It was John’s turn to freeze. Part of him wanted to object. Another prepared to scoff, blow off the sentiment completely.
“I’ll let you rest…” Bob had to practically drag himself through the door. As it closed behind him he fought the idea of sitting right there in the hallway. Dammit John. It was like trying to take care of a stray cat. He so clearly hated the fact that he needed him.
Ava suddenly appeared beside him. Bob was proud to say he didn’t even jump.
“What’s wrong with him?” She asked, her brow furrowed.
Bob shrugged, “I think I know but I doubt he’ll ever tell us.”
“Dammit Walker.” She shook her head, but began laughing out of nowhere, “You know, I bet he’ll tell you.”
“What? Why me?” Bob questioned her.
Ava was already walking away.
“Ava what do you mean?” He pressed, rushing to catch up.
“I suspect you're going to go order his favourite take out and bring it to him.”
“Yeah, so?”
“And he’s going to let you do that?”
“Why wouldn’t he.”
“Bob, sweetheart,” She laughed, “He likes you.” Ava had to stop herself from shaking him by the shoulders as he stood mouth agape in front of her, “Why’d you think I got you down to the lobby to meet him and not Bucky?”
“Bucky might actually know what he’s dealing–”
“And if Bucky did for him what you were doing in there…”
A dark green heat of jealousy suddenly enveloped Bob’s chest.
“You see, not a chance in Hell he’d have let Bucky past his door let alone spend a half hour with him inside.” She shook her head at his continued doubt. “Now listen, I’m no mind reader. Maybe he just considers you a good friend, but I mean…guys a total closet case.”
“What should I do?” Bob hung his head.
“That's up to you, I think I’ve interfered enough.”
Ava sauntered off before Bob could form a reply. His head was spinning. Did she really think John was into him or was this all some joke?
No way, Bob settled, no way they would be that cruel. His stomach flipped, filling with nerves as the new pressure weighed on him.
Okay, okay, what next? He pulled himself out of the spiral.
He needed to order John's favourite takeout.