Work Text:
I love you because you have those
Polaroids of me inside your nightstand.
I love you because you’re
Understanding that I'm too Sky to show my skin
Sometimes I forget, it wasn’t always this way
It's hard to admit, I was the one to blame.
Bob had a new hobby. It all started when, at a thrift store he went to with the girls, he found an old Polaroid camera.
Surprisingly it worked. He just needed a few cartridges and he could start taking pictures.
His teammates were soon putting his photos everywhere.
Alexei had a photo of himself and Yelena stuck in the bathroom mirror, along with an old photo of Natasha.
They had put a photo of the entire team in a frame in Bucky's room.
He complained, of course, but surprisingly he hadn't taken it down yet.
The mirror in Yelena's little vanity was now filled with photos of her with Bob and Ava. There were also a couple of photos of John, one of her father, and one of the entire team.
The same was for Ava's locker in the locker room of their small gym.
The rest of the photos were tacked to the wall in Bob's room.
He had attached strings to the wall and started pinning the photos he liked the most with small, colorful wooden clothespins.
Or so he thought. He didn't know how many photos John had actually hidden.
1.
They were still just teammates, friends maybe, when he discovered the first photos.
At first, he had only taken a picture of John and his son, Liam, sitting on the floor playing the first time he came to the tower.
Bob loved that photo, but he was happy to give it to John. It was him and his baby after all. He had nothing to do with it (yet).
John had placed that photo in a small frame on his bedside table.
It was one of the few times Bob had ventured into the gym when he discovered the others.
It didn't go unnoticed to him how John was staring at him, fresh out of the shower, still shirtless, covered only by a towel around his waist.
"What?" Bob asked. "I forgot my clothes here."
"Nothing," John said, blushing.
He was definitely a sight to behold, too. Sweaty, dressed only in a black tank top, his cheeks flushed from training.
Bob allowed himself to gaze at the blond hairs on his pectorals, the skin dotted with freckles and moles, the sculpted arms, when John took off his shirt.
Sooner or later he would do something about his crush for John, but that day wasn't the day.
Only later he noticed the photo peeking out from John's locker door.
He remembered that day well. It was the only time he'd managed to beat John in training and he had his camera with him, as always. They'd taken a selfie, using the gym's large mirrors, Bob flexing his muscles while John held the camera.
"You kept it?" Bob asked, surprised.
"Oh, that one?" John asked, confused. "I stuck it in there after we did it, but I never took it out."
"The only time I managed to beat you," Bob said, chuckling.
“I wouldn’t call kicking me while I was distracted a victory, Bobby,” John said, chuckling. “But yeah, it helps to keep me humble. All that power the Oxe gave you is worthless if you don’t practice and learn how to use it. You should come down here more often.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Bob said. “Put me on the field, Coach, or whatever that is.”
“We’re done for today,” John said. “I really need a shower. You did good, though.”
Bob smiled, pulling on one of his oversized T-shirts on his still wet hair.
“Thanks, Walker.”
“Don’t get too big for your boots now.”
Bob smiled as John headed for the showers.
It was just a stupid crush. He was pretty sure John was straight and still in love with his wife.
But maybe he was wrong.
2.
It had finally happened. He had done something about his crush.
He never thought John would reciprocate.
“And Olivia?” Bob asked anxiously.
“I talked to her,” John said, a small smile on his face. “She sends her regards. In fact, she said to say ‘good luck.’ to you. I know, very funny. She gives us her blessing, for what it’s worth.”
Of all the men in the world, Bob would never have guessed John could be bisexual.
Now he was in his happy place, John’s arms, a ray of sunshine threatening to wake his blond, blue-eyed Prince Charming.
Sometimes he liked to stare at him while he slept. Sorry if his boyfriend was literally an angel while he slept, his face finally relaxed, the little wrinkle that lived perpetually between his eyebrows finally smoothed out.
The idyllic moment was abruptly interrupted by John's phone alarm.
Bob tried to turn it off before John actually woke up.
It was Sunday, for God's sake. On Sundays you don't wake before 10 a.m., that's the rule.
But his new boyfriend was a creature of habit. He woke up every morning at 6:30 a.m., went for a run, then took a quick shower and was in the kitchen by 8 to make everyone breakfast.
All this without ever waking him.
For once, he was awake before him and wanted John to stay in bed with him as well.
Lena and the others would have to eat cereal for one morning.
He reached for John's bedside table, where his phone had been charging all night, knocking over John's water bottle, the bottle of lube they'd used the night before, and the picture frame John had kept there.
He grimaced as John stretched out beside him.
Good job, Bob, you woke him up anyway.
"Good morning, hon" John said, stretching.
"Good morning," Bob said, kissing his chest. "I wanted to let you sleep in, but I failed miserably."
He reached for the mess he'd made on the floor. He sighed with relief when he saw that the water bottle was practically empty and the lube bottle had been properly capped the night before.
He had a pretty good Top, after all.
John's precious phone was also safe, no broken glass or anything like that, having fallen onto John's soft carpet.
He stopped, however, when he saw the frame.
Besides the Polaroid of John and Liam that Bob already knew was in that frame, John had added another one.
It was the photo they'd taken on their first date. Bob's shirt was already open a little, John's lips red from their kiss.
They were happy. They were in love. Bob had been wondering where the hell that photo had gone.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for this photo,” Bob said, smiling faintly.
“Oh, I thought I told you I took it,” John said, his phone already in his hand.
“I must have forgotten,” Bob said, blushing. “Why did you put it here?”
“I wanted a picture of both of my boys,” John said.
Bob buried his blushing cheeks in John’s chest, letting his boyfriend kiss his forehead
“It’s getting late,” John said. “I have to get up.”
“No, you stay here with me today,” Bob said. “For once, the others can cook their own breakfast.”
For once, John didn’t seem to contradict him.
I love you because when I say “I don’t wanna talk”
You always call me
And I love you because you lead me
Back to bed when I wonder in my sleep
Sometimes I forget, wasn’t always this way
It's hard to admit, I was the one to blame
3.
He didn’t like it when everyone left for missions. Bob wasn’t useful for missions yet, but he was improving.
Sooner or later he would put his golden suit back on again and leave with them.
But for now he was making himself useful by keeping their common areas clean and doing the laundry the others had put off.
Everything was clean that evening. The dishes were put in the dishwasher, a pile of clean clothes folded on his teammates’ beds. The shelves of his beloved bookshelf had been dusted, the sofa cushions fluffed.
Now he just had to wait for Lena’s text announcing their arrival.
It arrived just before dinner and he rushed to the landing strip.
Everyone greeted him warmly as soon as they stepped off the jet. Lena hugged him tightly, Ava ruffled his hair. Even Bucky seemed happy to see him. Alexei wrapped him in one of his long crushing hugs.
"Don't break him," John said from behind him. "He's an indestructible demigod, but you never know."
Bob chuckled when John rested his forehead against his.
"I missed you, baby" he said, kissing his temple.
Now they were in John's room. A light dinner, still in their suits, and then everyone headed to their rooms for a well-deserved shower.
They had promised to meet in the common room for a movie and to spend some time with Bob.
It was still new to him. That someone cared enough about him to want to spend some quality time with him.
Bob wasn't curious, okay? He was just putting on John's dirty suit and his thermal shirt that he wore underneath to be washed.
It wasn't his fault that a photo fell out of one of the pockets of his tactical pants.
It was one of his Polaroids, one of the photos he'd taken a long time ago to test the camera he'd just bought and the new cartridges he'd just ordered on Amazon.
It wasn't anything special. Just him with the camera in his hand in front of his bedroom mirror. Bob was sure he'd thrown it away; it hadn't even turned out very well.
John must have found it and put it in his sweatpants pocket, by the look of it, all crumpled and discolored like it was.
At that moment, John emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam.
He looked at him confused before speaking.
"Bobby?"
"I thought I'd thrown it away," Bob said. "Where did you find it?"
It was John's turn to blush.
"You forgot it in the common room, in the middle of one of your books. I think you were using it as a bookmark or something. You dropped it while putting the book back, so I took it."
"And you put it in your tracksuit pocket?"
"It's nice to have a memento of you when I'm out there fighting bad guys. It reminds me who I have to come home to."
"Sooner or later I'll be going on a mission, too."
"Until then," John said, taking the photo from Bob. "This is my little travel Bobby."
"You're awful," Bob said, chuckling. "I love you more than anything."
"Me too, baby," John said, kissing him on the lips. "More than anything."
And after all this time you were right.
Can we take more Polaroids for you to hide?
+1
Bob Raynolds was officially a married man. In fact his name wasn't even Raynolds anymore, but Walker.
John had proposed on one of their rare vacations to a Pacific island, and they'd gotten married six months later in a ceremony with far too many people invited by Val.
But the ones who really mattered were sitting in the front rows, with Yelena and Ava standing next to him, while Olivia was John's best man.
For now they were still living with the others, but they were in the midst of the tedious process of renovating one of the tower's empty floors to turn it into their apartment.
It was better this way. It broke his heart to leave the girls, but at least they'd only be a few floors away.
Nothing an elevator ride couldn't fix.
And besides he'd hate to leave his new darkroom, too.
It had been a gift from the team for their wedding.
After the Polaroid camera, he'd received a professional digital camera for his birthday (John) and a film camera for Christmas (Ava and Lena).
The darkroom was just a bonus, a way to develop his photos immediately. And God knows how impatient Bob was sometimes.
John, on the other hand, had received a workshop for his woodworks.
They were the perfect team in that, too. He took the photos and his husband made the frames.
It was almost dinnertime when his adorable husband opened the door a crack (Bob had scolded him too many times, yelling at him for being too bright), and then appeared at his side.
"Are these the new photos you took of the girls?" he asked, smiling. He hugged him from behind.
"Careful," Bob said, "I'm using chemicals here."
"Yelena came out well in this one," John said, his chin resting on his shoulder.
He pointed to a photo of Yelena smiling in front of one of the trees in Central Park. In the one next to it ,Ava was blowing him a kiss, in front of the park's large fountain.
"You're a natural, hon" John said, surprised.
"Thanks for the flattery," Bob said. "Where are my frames? I want to give them to the girls for Christmas."
"I'm working on it," John said, raising his hands. "I'm going to the kitchen. Some useful ideas for dinner? "
"Can we order something?" Bob asked. "My body craves sushi."
"Sushi it is," John said. "I am gonna ask the others too, but I don't think you'll find many dissenting opinions. I'm craving it too, especially not to cook."
He was about to walk out the door before stopping.
Half-hidden by Ava's photo was one of John’s.
It had been taken when he wasn't looking, next to one of the large windows in the living room.
It was one of his favorite photos. He wanted to put it in a nice frame for the new house.
“When did you make it?” John asked, blushing.
Bob stammered before answering.
“I forgot it was on this roll of film,” Bob said. “A few weeks ago. You were playing with Liam when he came over last time. I wanted to try the film; it's new. I've never used it.”
“It's beautiful,” John said, the blush on his cheeks hidden by the red light in the room.
“I was thinking of putting it in the new house,” Bob said, “so I need another frame.”
“It'll be done, boss,” John said, faking a salute.
John headed back toward the exit, but not before looking at the photo closely one last time.