Archive of Our Own

“Listen to your brother, John.”

“Take cover!”

“Eliminate the target.”

“Shut up!”

John Walker has followed orders his whole life. As a child, in the army, working for Valentina, even now, as a Thunderbolt/New Avenger. It’s never something he thinks much about, not when the person ordering him around is clearly his superior. Now, if Ava or Yelena try to tell him what to do, or god forbid, Bob, he will argue them on it. But Bucky – and in some ways even Alexei – exudes that air of being in command, so John doesn’t usually hesitate before doing as he’s told.

Perhaps that’s the reason why he doesn’t realise what’s happening until a few days after it starts.

Three days have passed since their last mission, and for the time being they’re unofficially on vacation unless anything major demands their attention. The reasons are some leftover consequences of said mission.

It’d been pitched to the team as a fast and easy job. Valentina had received intel on a group of amateur troublemakers that’d somehow gotten their hands on actual magical artifacts and were planning on wreaking havoc with them. The group members all only had a background of minor crimes, so it should have been easy enough to subdue them.

Unfortunately, they were not afraid to use their artifacts even when it was painfully obvious that they had no idea what they were doing and what effects which object had. So, it got real annoying real fast.

During the scuffle, Yelena’s hair was replaced by yarn and her eyes covered by buttons. She looked like something straight out of Coraline. Bucky’s metal arm turned into a balloon animal, and Alexei lost the ability to speak and now makes dolphin sounds whenever he opens his mouth. (Somehow, they still have the Russian accent, John can’t explain it.)

Only Ava and him had gotten away scot-free and managed to knock out the wannabe wizards and confiscate their artifacts. The moment they brought them back, Valentina’s team of scientists got to work analysing them to reverse the spells. (Or use them. Whatever she feels like, probably.)

So far they haven’t made progress on that end, but Yelena returned to normal this morning, so a new hope has manifested among the team: the spells are temporary.

“Do you think it would destroy your arm if we popped the balloon?” Bob asks over dinner that night, and Alexei chimes in with enthusiastic dolphin chattering. John rubs his temples, annoyed. As much as Alexei can get on his nerves on a normal day, at least the pitch of his voice isn’t as grating as this.

“I don’t know,” Bucky says evenly and twirls some fried noodles around his fork. Nobody has been in the mood to go grocery shopping or cook since the mission.

“My guess would be yes, since it got transformed and not replaced.” Ava hands everyone a beer from the fridge before sitting down in her usual chair.

“It is very unfair how you two got nothing,” Yelena grumbles over her own takeout container. She keeps touching her hair as if to make sure it’s back to normal.

“Maybe we’re just better,” John teases sharply and shrugs. He’s working on friendly, familiar banter instead of his condescending tone that implies he is being serious, but it’s been a work in progress. Usually, the others are quite patient with him, however. But tonight, tensions are still high, so maybe he should have swallowed that comment.

With a scoff, Yelena points her chopsticks at John. “You wish. Name any time you were better than me during a mission.”

Something tugs in John’s chest and his mouth opens before his brain can catch up and wonder if he should answer this.

“Last month you were sloppy during a mission and got yourself shot. I objectively did better because I didn’t get injured. The mission before that I apprehended more criminals than you. And when escaping Valentina’s trap, I got the sound system destroyed faster than you and was right about your bomb causing issues.”

It’s deathly silent when John’s mouth finally stops moving, and shame fills his stomach. “You asked,” he mumbles.

“Wow, you’re keeping track, Walker?” Yelena asks, voice scarily composed. “About everyone or just me?”

“I’m not keeping track!” John protests. “You asked, so I remembered.”

“It was obviously rhetorical!”

“Let’s calm down,” Bucky interrupts them, and when John looks over at him, he expects to see anger on his face. Instead, he finds disappointment, and somehow that is so much worse.

John knows he should apologise. He tries to form the words in his mouth. I’m sorry, Yelena. But his body won’t cooperate. He’s always been shit at apologies, at voicing his genuine feelings. Something inside him clams up until he chokes on the words. So, he gives up and looks at his food, appetite gone. Why can’t you ever be a decent person?

Bucky’s arm turns back with a loud pop the next day, and he flexes his fingers, relief evident on his face. It’s only the two of them in the kitchen, Bob and Alexei still fast asleep, Ava and Yelena doing their joint morning-workout in the gym.

“Stop staring,” Bucky tells him, and John’s gaze snaps away. He hasn’t even realised he was tracing the metal arm with his eyes.

“Glad it’s back to normal,” John offers, and Bucky sighs.

“Just shut up. It’s too early for this.”

John’s mouth snaps closed with a click. Right, so Bucky is still upset with him for the evening before. Can’t blame the guy.

Instead of arguing with him about it, John walks past Bucky to the coffee maker and presses the correct buttons. The familiar sound of the grinding of coffee beans fills the kitchen and John leans against the counter, closing his eyes. It is too early. He hasn’t been sleeping well the past nights, the feeling of something being wrong not leaving his mind. But he can’t figure out what it could be.

“Eggs?” Bucky asks, interrupting his musings, and John cracks an eye open. Bucky is holding up a pan and a carton of eggs. Maybe it’s a peace offering. With a small smile, John nods and opens his mouth.

Yes.

He blinks. No sound comes out of his mouth even though he definitely said the word. In his mind, at least. Frowning, he tries again.

Yes, please.

Still, nothing. It’s like his vocal cords are tensing up and refusing to produce the sound. Slowly, panic fills John’s body, and he’s glad that Bucky has seen his nod and turned away before he even attempted to speak.

What’s happening? He just spoke. Annoyed Bucky with it, actually. So what is going on? It can’t be an injury or some illness, it happened too suddenly. John strains against the lock in his throat as hard as he can, but he can’t get a word out.

“Hand me the salt and pepper behind you, please,” Bucky interrupts his thoughts, and even while John contemplates if he should make it known that something is wrong, his hands move on their own accord. They grab the salt and pepper shakers and give them to Bucky. With a nod and quiet thanks, Bucky turns back to his pan.

John’s heart is beating too fast in his chest. The mission. The magic artifacts. But what exactly did they do? Make him obey Bucky implicitly?

The coffee maker beeps behind him and John startles, turning around. Taking a deep breath, he grabs a mug from the cupboard. If it is caused by the artifacts, it’ll wear off soon. Only Alexei’s curse is still active, after all. He can hide it until then. Bucky might be a good guy, but he and John don’t have a great history. He might still use it for some sort of retaliation against John. It’s better for all of them if nobody finds out.

“Why are you so quiet today, Walker?” Yelena asks with a frown when John is taking a break from training in the gym. “Not one comment yet. Not even when Bob tripped over the dumbbells earlier.”

John shrugs, screwing open his water bottle and taking big gulps. It’s been a weird day so far. Apparently Bucky’s Shut up includes making any sounds, so even John’s pained grunt when he hit the reinforced sandbag too hard earlier and split the skin on his knuckles was silent.

“John,” Yelena says, and if John didn’t know better he’d say she’s worried. Ridiculous. Yes, they get along, but they’re not friends. Not to his knowledge. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t want to, he’s still drinking his water, but his head twists around immediately, dislodging the bottle and making water spill down his shirt.

Great. It’s not only Bucky’s commands.

That explains dinner the day before, when Yelena wanted to know about John being better. It’s almost a relief that apparently he wasn’t such an asshole on his own accord. But that is overshadowed by the realisation that everyone can order him around, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Potentially any stranger on the street could tell him what to do.

Yelena takes a step closer to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Will you tell me what is wrong? You look like you have seen a ghost.” She pats his chest with her other hand. “And you spilled all over yourself.”

Swallowing nervously, John tries to pry his eyes off of Yelena, but he can’t seem to manage. The harder he tries, the more his head feels like it’s going to explode. At least she didn’t tell him to explain. As close as they have gotten as a team, there is still a tension there sometimes. Yelena and Ava would definitely abuse this curse if they knew. So they cannot find out. Bob would probably not want to make John do things, the goody-two-shoes that he is, and Alexei would only accidentally order John around, but the two women— Well, John would probably deserve it, but that doesn’t mean he’s keen on it happening.

Not to mention what Valentina would do. She’d probably try to find a way to make it irreversible and apply it to the rest of the team.

“John?” Yelena’s voice pulls him from his thoughts again, and she squeezes his shoulder a bit. Her hazel eyes seem to be trying to look into his very core, and John wants nothing more than to turn away. But he’s stuck. He wonders if Yelena will make him tell her, and everything in him tenses.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she steps away, hand falling off of his shoulder. “Come on, let’s spar.”

His locked muscles loosen, and he can finally move his eyes away from her as the new command takes hold of him.

“And stop giving us the silent treatment,” she adds, a tentative grin on her face. “I don’t hold grudges. Yesterday is forgotten.”

John’s jaw relaxes and he moves it around a bit before opening his mouth. “Thought you all think my comments are annoying? Now you don’t want me to shut up?” he asks, relief warm in his chest at his voice working again. He puts his water bottle down and follows her towards the padded training room.

This makes Yelena laugh and she stretches her arms over her head. “They are. Very annoying. But your broody silence is worse.”

Bucky finds him after dinner that same day. They had ordered in again, but instead of sharing another family style meal in the kitchen, everyone had eaten while doing their own thing. John was glad about it. Less of a risk for someone telling him what to do.

This also means he hasn’t seen Bucky for longer than a couple minutes since this morning. Yes, maybe he has been avoiding him. But him locking John’s voice away, even unknowingly, sucked, a lot.

But of course, Bucky can’t leave things unsaid, so he knocks on his door when everyone has settled in their respective rooms for the night.

John, with his bleeding heart, worries that it might be Bob seeking him out with some problem or another, so he calls “Come in.” and sits up where he’d been reading a Superman comic in his bed.

Of course it isn’t Bob who walks into his room, closing the door softly behind himself, but Bucky. John sighs and rubs his face.

“Can I help you?” He’s not even trying to sound prickly, it just comes out that way. John cringes at himself.

Luckily, Bucky seems unfazed and crosses the room to sit in John’s desk chair by the window. “The others said you were being weird today. Quiet.”

“Wow. So you talk about me behind my back. Great heroes, the lot of you,” John drawls. His tone is flippant, but in his chest, an uncomfortable feeling close to shame settles. They gossip about him. That’s unpleasant knowledge.

“They were worried, they didn’t say it maliciously,” Bucky explains, and somehow it’s even more embarrassing to know that he noticed John’s genuine upset.

“And you have been behaving strangely today. So what’s wrong?”

John scrambles for an excuse. Oh, nothing is wrong, I just realised one of the artifacts did in fact curse me and I have to obey everything I’m being told to do, no big deal. Go have fun with that knowledge, make me humiliate myself!

Bucky leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. His face looks oddly soft in the low light of John’s bedside lamp. “You don’t have to tell me. But we’re a team. Talk to someone about what’s going on, alright?”

“Is that an order?” John asks, though he knows it’s not. He doesn’t feel the pull in his chest that indicates that it was one.

“No.” Bucky shakes his head. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. Except maybe during missions.”

Huffing a laugh, John opens his comic back up. “Sure, of course.”

For a moment, Bucky just watches him as John pretends to read and really just stares at the first speech bubble of the page that just says ‘Krypto!’ Maybe they should get a pet for the tower, something other than Yelena’s guinea pig. A dog could be nice company, or even a large cat.

“Sleep well, John.” Bucky leaves the room quietly, and John finds himself staring after him, a small spark of warmth in his chest at the soft tone of the other man. John shakes his head.

Don’t be stupid. There was no softness. You’re imagining things now.

For the sake of not losing his voice for an entire day again – or something similarly annoying – John tries to keep his comments and presence to a minimum to not provoke another Shut up. It works, though now he’s getting suspicious glances from the others. Apparently they have moved on from talking behind his back to making it obvious that they know something is up. John doesn’t get it. He would’ve thought they’d be ecstatic about him shutting up on his own volition. But now they seem to be greatly bothered by it. 

When he does hang out around the others, the orders are ordinary. Hand me this, catch this, train with me, look at this, try this. All temporary demands that don’t arise suspicion when John follows them instantly. Still, sometimes Bucky’s gaze lingers on John when he hands him something too fast, and John worries that he might be on to him.

Thanks to the orders still happening, John is slowly starting to learn the rules of the curse. First of all, impossible orders don’t take effect. When Ava told him to fuck himself the first time, John had fled to his room at top speed to avoid any awkward situations in the living room, but nothing happened. He assumes anything in the realm of the impossible is thus off limits, which is a relief. It could also be the curse recognising sayings as such, but either way, John doesn’t have to fear himself getting naked whenever someone gets fed up with him, so he doesn’t really care how the rule is worded.

Apart from that, he has realised that multiple orders can take effect at once, but only if they don’t conflict with each other. If he’s being told to do two things at once, the newest order overrides the one before. If Yelena tells him to hand her two things and Bob requests two other items, the curse recognises that John only has two hands and the first order is dropped. Also a relief. He won’t have to contort himself weirdly to somehow obey orders.

Thirdly, he can’t order himself around. He tried telling himself to do things in the mirror, first of all to stop following orders, but he doesn’t get the same compulsion like when someone else does it. Because of course that would be too easy. Then again, he’s not sure if it’d break the curse if someone else told him to stop either.

And lastly, John needs to be able to hear and understand the command to obey. When Yelena, half asleep, snaps orders at him in Russian, or when the coffee maker is too loud and drowns out Ava’s request, his body does nothing.

If this wasn’t happening to him, John would find it fascinating. As it stands, he cannot wait for it to wear off.

It’s been over a week since the mission, and John is quite tired of his neck snapping into position when Bob tries to show him a meme on his phone.

Alexei regains his speech ten days after the mission, and the unofficial hiatus is over. Because now the whole team is cured again.

John is sweating when he follows Yelena towards the warehouse. They got assigned a new mission, some people are experimenting with alien tech to build weapons. A simple get in, arrest them, get the tech to Valentina type of mission, but after the last one, they’re all a little more cautious, a little more on edge.

“You have a thirty second window to get inside and disable the alarms once Ava unlocks the door from inside,” Bucky tells them over the comms. “Remember, non-lethal. We knock them out, secure the tech. Don’t let yourself be shot by alien weapons.”

“Aye, captain,” John drawls, trying to get his shaking hands under control before Yelena sees. As long as nobody gives him any weird orders, he’ll be fine. Nobody better say break a leg or some shit. He’s not sure what the curse would do with that.

“No messing around, Walker, focus,” Bucky snaps in his ear, and John’s spine straightens. Focus, he can do that.

He waits for the signal before he and Yelena sprint to the small side entrance and slip inside. Ava is there, already messing around with the alarms, but she lets Yelena take over when they join her.

“Got it,” Yelena says over the comms when the panel flickers and the orange blinking button turns green. “Alarms off, you and Alexei can take the roof entrance.”

“Copy that.”

“Alarms off, you and Alexei can take the roof entrance,” John blurts, copying that, and both Ava and Yelena stare at him.

“Stop messing around.” Bucky’s voice sounds odd, like a mix of annoyance and something else that he can’t decipher, and heat floods John’s face.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and grabs his taco shield tighter. “Let’s go.”

Stupid fucking curse. Everyone knows that Copy that isn’t an order! Now he embarrassed himself in front of the team and they think he’s going insane. Great!

Luckily for him, unfortunately for the mission, the alarm panel wasn’t connected to all doors, and when Bucky and Alexei kick open the one on the roof, red lights flare up and alarms start blaring, and they all get too busy to think of what John did.

It goes well for a while. It’s loud, so John can’t hear what the people – not untrained, but also not trained soldiers, probably some sort of wannabe mercenaries – are saying. He focuses on knocking them out, clearing the path for Ava and Yelena to secure the technology.

Someone eventually turns off the alarms, and a hit to the side of the temple with some electrical bat of sorts has John’s head ringing and his focus zeroing in.

“Surrender yourself! You’re not Captain America!” the man wielding the weapon is yelling in front of him.

There’s the clang of his shield hitting the floor, and John’s hands come up, palms out. The guy seems stunned that he actually listened to him.

“We found the tech!” Ava says on the comms. “We’ll need backup to get it out.”

“Alexei will help you,” Bucky responds. “Walker, status?”

John stares at the sparking bat, tries desperately to lower his arms. I need help, he thinks. He could say it. The guy didn’t tell him to be quiet. He could ask for backup.

Tensing his muscles, John fights against the curse.

“Walker! What’s your status?”

Come on, just put your hands down and grab the shield! Listen to me, you stupid body!

“I need—” he starts, throat tight, but the guy swings the bat and electricity hits his face, sending him flying backwards. Everything around him goes dark. The last thought he has is that maybe he needs to finally tell the team. He’s become a security risk.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

John blinks against the bright light and the pain in his head. That voice.

“I had the most enlightening conversation with one of the men your team apprehended,” Valentina continues, ignoring the way John grunts when he finally manages to open his eyes and turn to look at her. At least his arms aren’t up anymore but at his sides instead. Apparently passing out counts as the ultimate surrender. His brain is trying to process her words, but he feels too battered.

“Oh, snap out of it,” Valentina drawls, annoyed, and John sits up abruptly, body not allowing him to wince at the pain. An almost predatory smile graces Valentina’s lips.

“You lied to me about who was affected by the magical artifacts.”

“We didn’t,” John protests. He should get out of here, fast. He needs to tell the team before Valentina finds out. His legs move to the side of the bed, but she could easily stop him. His phone is next to him on the bedside table, but she will see if John grabs it.

Like help sent from above, something clatters in the hallway and Valentina turns to the door. Not thinking, John grabs his phone, fingerprint unlocking it, clicks on the last contact he messaged, types sos, presses send, and puts the phone back in its place, putting an inconspicuous frown on his face when Valentina turns back to look at him.

“Tell me the truth, then.” She crosses her arms. “Were you affected or not? And be quick, your team will want to see you once they’re checked by medical.” Her eyes roll at that as if it is so ridiculous that a team that lives and works together has learned to care for each other. John would wonder if she has any empathy if he didn’t know first hand that, no, she doesn’t.

“I noticed a few days after the mission that I was affected, but nobody else knows,” John says, and he wishes he could bite his own tongue off. “It seems to be a curse of obedience.”

Valentina’s eyes are bright. “Raise your hands.”

John does, pain flaring through his shoulders. He must have hit the wall particularly hard when he was sent flying.

“Hands down. Slap yourself.”

The sound of his palm hitting his cheek rings in John’s ears, and unease curls in his stomach.

“It should fade soon,” he says, working hard to keep his voice even, “like it did for the others.”

“Now that would be a pity. Do you remember which artifact you were hit with? Tell me the truth.” Valentina has stepped closer and is inspecting him, like she can figure out the mystery through his face.

“I don’t remember, no.”

“Disappointing, John, very disappointing. Well, I will simply have to test every single one.”

“You know this isn’t right,” John snaps, frowning, and she laughs and pats his cheek.

“Oh, Johnny, you’re so sweet.”

He knows she doesn’t care about morals, or god forbid, people, but surely this is a step too far even for her.

But no, even as he thinks that, he knows he’s wrong. He figured she’d weaponise this when he first noticed what was going on. His gut instinct was right.

“Now, we cannot have the team finding out, of course. You have all become too good for your own, well, good. So, you are forbidden from telling anyone about this curse. You will not let any command override this one. That is an order. Do you understand? Answer me.”

“I understand,” John grits out and feels the order settle in his chest like a crushing weight.

“Oh, this is the beginning of something wonderful. It might just revive Project Sentry! No more god complex.” She smiles and steps back. “Chin up.”

His chin snaps up.

“You are a delight, John Walker. I’ll be seeing you.” Valentina walks to the door before turning around again. “Put your chin down. Just smile, be normal.”

She leaves, not seeing that the be normal cancels out the smile. John doesn’t normally smile, so at least he’s not forced to lie here with a smile plastered to his face.

Dread settles heavily in his stomach, the taste of bile in his throat. If she finds the artifact that did this, if she can find a way to use this, she can force Bob to work for her after all. She can force them all to do whatever she wishes, and they will be helpless, will have no choice but to obey.

He can picture it already, all of them, her good little soldiers, her circus monkeys, no more free will, screaming on the inside. Yelena, empty eyes, Bob, no more smiles, Bucky, back to being made to follow orders and stripped of his autonomy—

The door flies open, but John doesn’t fully register it because he’s leaning over the side of the bed, throwing up bile. He can’t let this happen. He needs to find a way to work around the command and warn the others.

His breathing is too fast and he almost chokes on the stomach acid, not having eaten recently enough for there to be anything else to throw up, gagging again violently.

Hands, one warm and soft, one cool and solid, grab his shoulders, gently rubbing his back, keeping him from tumbling out of bed.

“Deep, calm breaths,” the voice says in his ear, barely audible over the pounding of his heart. It’s too soft to be an order, and John has to actively follow it instead of letting his body take over. It takes a bit, but he finally manages to calm himself down enough to drag deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“Good, very good,” the voice, Bucky, says behind him, and a tissue is pressed into his hand. He uses it to wipe his mouth.

“Sorry,” John mumbles, hot shame filling him at Bucky having seen him like this. He leans back against the pillow, head pounding violently. He sort of wants to cry. A bone-deep exhaustion is enveloping him after the day he’s had.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed next to him and doesn’t say anything for a minute or so. Finally, he clears his throat.

“You sent an SOS text to me. I ran into Valentina in the hallway. Was she the reason?”

John nods, fingers playing with the fabric of the blanket.

“Can you tell me what she wanted from you?”

John shakes his head, and Bucky falls silent again for a little bit.

“What happened in that warehouse?” he asks, changing the topic. John isn’t sure if it’s a better one. “Why didn’t you ask for backup?”

“I thought I had it under control,” John says, not looking at Bucky. I can’t ask for help. I don’t know how.

“Why didn’t you? Yelena got him with a single punch.”

John doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. Waiting for Bucky to reprimand him is agonising.

“We’re worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

Surprised, John’s eyes snap to Bucky. “You’re worried? About me?”

A small grin plays around Bucky’s mouth. “I know, I was surprised, too. But you’re part of the team, so we need to know what’s going on with you.”

Right. Part of the team. John rubs his face and shakes the thought off. He should be glad Bucky can see past their shared past at all. And there are more pressing things to worry about. Maybe the team wouldn’t abuse the curse. Definitely not if they knew Valentina is trying to make it work for her own agenda.

John opens his mouth. You are forbidden from telling anyone about this curse. Forbidden from telling anyone about this curse.

“The mission,” John starts slowly, and is overly aware of how closely Bucky is watching him. “With the—” Magical artifacts. His mouth locks before he can get the words out and he can feel his face get red as he strains to say it. Okay, so the curse is smarter than he thought. Different angle. “Your arm—” Was turned into a balloon.

Angrily, John kicks away the blanket, ignoring how it pulls at his sore muscles.

“The m—” He squeezes his eyes closed. “Dr.—” Strange. Harry Potter. Magic.

Desperately, he looks at Bucky, begging him to read his mind. Valentina is trying to make us docile circus monkeys.

John sits up more, idea forming in his mind. You are forbidden from telling anyone about this curse does not include forbidding him from talking about Valentina’s involvement.

“Valentina,” John starts slowly. Stick to facts that are true without the curse. “She saw me before you,” he says very carefully. There’s a spark of something in Bucky’s eyes, and it fills John with hope that he’s connecting the dots. He’s been watching him ever since the magical artifact mission after all. He has to have formed some hypotheses.

“Did she do something? Is that why you texted me SOS?” Bucky asks, and John sees the metal plates in his arm moving as he tenses.

“She. Spoke. With me.” Come on, super spy. Please. “I sent the text as she spoke when she looked away.”

“Did she speak about anything in particular?”

John can’t get his head to move in a nod, and his fingers refuse to form a thumbs-up. He can only look at Bucky.

“Did you throw up because you were in pain?” Bucky then asks, and John quickly shakes his head. Plain fact.

“So it was because of her?”

Again, every muscle in him locks. He kind of wants to smash his face into the wall. Repeatedly. Instead, he smacks his forehead a few times, the headache making his eyes hurt.

Bucky grabs his arms and stills them. He looks around before leaning in. “Let’s try this. Yes is talking about the weather. No is telling me about food.”

I’m not sure if this will work.

John takes a deep breath and looks to the window at the side of the room. The sun is shining. It’s a nice summer day. People are probably enjoying ice cream outside. Slowly, John opens his mouth. “It’s a good day for a run, just a little too warm.” I’m just talking about working out. I’m not even using his coding system. I’m not talking about the weather. Not at all. No need to lock any muscles.

The satisfied smile on Bucky’s lips makes John’s stomach twist. He’s overly aware of Bucky holding his arms gently.

“Can you tell me anything about it?”

Again, John focuses on the air going in through his nose, out through his mouth. It must be late afternoon, he last ate something at breakfast. He should get a snack soon. Or two. “Is every supersoldier, like, always hungry?”

“We need lots of calories. You should eat more.” Bucky studies his face, his metal thumb running up and down on John’s arm. He tries to focus on the feeling of it. “Is she listening? Is that why you can’t tell me?”

“Bob hates scrambled eggs,” John manages to choke out. It’s getting harder to speak around it, curse trying to lock him down. It’s just food talk, nothing about the curse. “He says the texture is weird and they taste different than hard-boiled. Which is bullshit. Eggs always taste like eggs.” John’s head is pounding with every heartbeat, dots dancing in front of his eyes.

“So it’s a physical thing?”

John opens his mouth, but the curse locks his muscles when he tries to say the word weather. He can’t focus on talking around it, he’s so exhausted. Everything hurts.

Fighting against the locked muscles makes the pain in his head flare up even brighter, like every nerve ending has been lit on fire, and the room spins before fading into darkness.

“You’ve been sleeping enough, John, wake up. Bucky hasn’t stopped pacing in the living room for hours.”

John’s eyes snap open and he braces himself for the blinding lights and burning headache, but he finds himself in his own bedroom, the curtains closed. Yelena is sitting at his bedside this time, a big scowl on her face. John swallows nervously.

“There you are. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. How is everyone else?” He realises he never asked Bucky the last time he was awake.

“Fine. Only you got yourself hit.” She narrows her eyes. “And before I knocked out that wannabe soldier, he said you surrendered.”

There is no option but to stay silent.

“What is going on, Walker? Tell me.”

John’s mouth opens to obey the order, but the conflicting order from Valentina locks his vocal cords. His body tries to speak, needing to comply, to execute the command, but he can’t, and he finds himself choking on the words. It hurts, and he curls into himself.

“Walker? What is going on? You’re turning red.”

You’re forbidden from telling anyone about this curse. Tell me. You’re forbidden from telling anyone about this curse. Tell me. You’re forbidden from telling anyone about this curse. Tell me. 

A new tidbit of information manifests itself slowly but steadily: the curse can malfunction, and the overload hits his body, his brain.

“Walker! John!”

His heart is beating in his ears, his throat burns with the need to speak, but the superior order keeps it closed up, letting out neither words nor air— and none in either.

There’s a commotion around him, but John’s field of view has blurred, and there are black dots dancing in his vision once more. This time he almost craves the darkness. At least it makes the pain go away.

Suddenly, a face appears directly in front of his eyes, familiar blue eyes. “Ignore what Yelena said, breathe.”

Greedily, John sucks in a lungful of air, and another, and another. His body wants to slump forward, but he becomes aware of strong hands holding him upright. The second time today. He better not get used to it.

“That’s it,” Bucky says. “You’re okay. Just keep breathing.”

John does, and finally, when Bucky deems him stable enough, he leans back from where he’s crouching next to the bed, and John sees that the entire team is in his room. Bob is pale, worrying at a loose thread on his shirt, Ava has her arms crossed, silently watching from where she’s leaning against the wall, Alexei’s face is openly curious, and Yelena looks guilty.

“I told you not to talk to him alone,” Bucky finally says, looking at her. “We don’t know what’s going on with him yet, and how dangerous it is.”

“How about you tell us what you know?” Ava pushes herself off the wall. “Because clearly you know something.”

Bucky turns to John. “Can I tell—”

“No,” the curse makes him say before Bucky even gets the question out. John stares intensely at the window. He’s not sure what time it is. Curtains, curtains, curtains. Windows. Could be evening. Bob is in pyjamas. Bob is usually in pyjamas all day long. Alexei is in pyjamas. Alexei is also often in pyjamas. “It’s been too warm for my favourite pyjamas the past month,” John manages, and the way this, to the others, nonsensical sentence makes Bucky light up, does something strange to John’s insides that he doesn’t have time to analyse right now.

“Walker has lost his mind,” Alexei says gravely, but Bucky shakes his head, standing up from his crouch.

“Let’s talk in the living room.”

“So Valentina has done something to him?” Bob asks slowly, looking at John from where he’s curled up in the armchair with Yelena. “And he can’t talk about it unless it’s with some obscure code?”

“And not indefinitely,” Bucky adds. “After one too many questions he passed out last time. So we need to be careful.”

“We need to go to Valentina and break bones!” Alexei flexes his arms. “Make her take back what she did.”

She didn’t do it. She wants to use it. 

John fidgets with the blanket he’s holding. In the crease of the sofa he’s on, he spots a half-eaten chocolate bar, probably left there by Alexei. Gross, but helpful. He grabs it and throws it to Bucky.

“No,” Bucky says as he catches it and studies it. “That isn’t right. We’re not understanding everything here.” His voice is off, but John is just relieved that Bucky is keeping the others from jumping to conclusions.

“What if this has to do with the mission for magical artifacts?” Ava suggests after a moment of collective silence. “He said mission when he tried to tell you, right?”

“But it could have been the last mission, too,” Bob throws in.

“The target with the baseball bat said John surrendered. Why would he surrender?” Yelena looks lost.

Bucky’s eyes study John even as the others are throwing theories around. Finally, he crosses his arms and turns to the others. “Nobody will abuse this knowledge, is that understood?”

The team nods, confused. Oh, so he really does know, John realises. Well, Valentina, you should have realised that your team of super-spies and ex-criminals would figure this out on their own.

“John,” Bucky returns his attention to him. “I’ll try something now.”

John nods in acknowledgement. Suck it, curse. Bucky is too observant for you.

“John, stand up.”

John’s legs react immediately, blanket falling to the floor.

“Stand on one leg.”

He obeys.

“Tell me your favourite colour.”

“Captain America blue.” Heat rushes into John’s cheeks.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Ava asks. “What’s this supposed to show?”

“Truth serum,” Alexei says gravely.

“He’s doing things, that’s not truth serum.” Bob shakes his head.

“Stop breathing,” Yelena says tonelessly, and John’s eyes widen as his lungs constrict.

“Keep breathing!” Bob yells and John takes a quick breath in. “What the hell, Lena?”

“Just reminded me of something,” she mumbles, looking miles away. Bob nervously pats her hair.

“So Walker has to follow orders?” Alexei asks, frowning. “Like good soldier?”

“More like a mindless circus monkey.” Ava’s voice is icy. “How did Valentina do this?”

“I doubt it was her,” Bucky has taken a seat on the couch John abandoned. “I started noticing it a while ago. Just wasn’t sure. John, sit back down.”

He does, realising he’d still been standing on one leg this entire time.

“If Valentina knows, she can try to find the origin, use it on Bob, get her Sentry back,” Bucky continues, and relief washes over John. He should have known he’d work it all out. Even Valentina’s evil plotting.

“And since she very likely is the one who has forbidden John from talking about it, she has a headstart and is already trying to figure out how to weaponise it for all of us.”

“We have to figure out way to reverse it.” Alexei stands up. “Cheer up, Walker!”

John’s mouth twists into a bright smile, and Ava and Bob stare, horrified.

“Stop that,” Ava says, “that looks so wrong on you.”

His face relaxes again.

“We all need to phrase things carefully while this is going on,” Bucky warns. “Requests and offers, no demands.” He gets up again. “Yelena, let’s talk in the kitchen.”

She still looks a little pale, and John watches as Bucky leads her out of the room.

“What’s that about?” he asks, and Bob shrugs.

“I’m not sure.”

“We have experience with mind control,” Alexei says gravely. “Red room used it on her. Touchy subject. She will be fine, she’s strong.” He walks towards the door as well. “I will make dinner now. Do not worry, Walker. The Thunderbolt Avengers will figure out solution.” He stops. “Worry if you want. This was not order. Just suggestion.”

With that, he leaves them, too, and John leans back into the couch, staring at the ceiling. The remaining two are silent for a long moment before John hears footsteps and the couch dips next to him. He looks over at Bob.

“This is wrong,” Bob says quietly. “Nobody should be controlled like this. Weather yes, food no, right?”

“Yes,” Ava says when John can’t get the word out.

“Bucky said this has been happening for a while. Is he right?” Bob asks.

John’s hands reach for the blanket again and he fiddles with it. The print is little suns, and he pats the blanket a few times. Bob smiles.

“Then I’m sorry if I accidentally gave you an order during that time. I remember you being quiet a lot. We told you to shut up a couple times, huh?”

“Oh,” Ava makes, and she sounds kind of devastated. John smiles lopsidedly. Not your fault.

“I talk a lot,” he settles on instead. He feels tired from being up, trying to navigate what he can say and do and what he can’t. His shoulders and back are still sore, and the headache is returning with persistence.

Bob shifts closer and leans into John’s side, a warm weight that is more than welcome. Not that John would admit to that out loud. He’s not usually part of the cuddle piles during movie nights, doubts he’d be welcome, so he cherishes this moment in silence.

“We’ll find a way to fix this,” Ava promises from the other sofa across from them, and John feels like an asshole again. For thinking they’d take advantage of his curse for petty reasons. They’re better than this. Better than him.

Yelena finds John the next night. He’s in his room, trying to get his mind to settle down enough to let him sleep, when there’s a knock on the door.

“Yes?” he calls, and she slips into the room, padding over to the bed in her bright pink pyjamas and fluffy socks that she wore even when they got a heatwave with 80 degrees at night last month.

John sits up and pulls the blanket up, aware that he’s only wearing pyjama pants.

“Relax,” Yelena says with an eyeroll. “And that is not an order.”

I know, it didn’t feel like one. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, you can stop freaking out. I’ve seen you shirtless. It does nothing for me. And then you can scoot over.” She elbows her way into his bed, and John feels his face burn.

“John, I’m gay.” She stares him down. “I’m not trying to,” she waves her hands, “whatever your man brain thinks I’m doing.”

“You are?” he asks, surprised. “But I thought you and Bob—”

She pulls a face. “He’s like my little brother. My best friend. My soul. I would not kiss him for money.”

That makes John laugh, and some of the tension bleeds from his shoulders. He relaxes and allows Yelena to get comfortable under the blanket next to him. They stare at the ceiling together, listening to the sound of the AC.

“In the red room, they did mind control. To keep us obedient.” Yelena’s voice is quiet and she doesn’t look at John as she speaks. “My mother,” his enhanced hearing picks up on her voice shaking the slightest bit at the word, “she designed it. Chemical subjugation. I was mostly myself, but I didn’t know which part was me and which wasn’t. I followed every order.”

John, unsure what else to do, offers his hand, palm up on top of the blanket. She scoffs but takes it with her own, smaller hand. Their fingers tangle together.

“They made me kill. And then once I got freed and we stopped the Red Room, well, I kept killing for Valentina. Some days I’m not sure if I ever fully got freed of it all.”

Not confident the curse would allow him words to speak on the situation, John simply holds  her hand tightly. Yelena sighs and rests her head against his shoulder. 

“So I understand it. Being forced to follow commands with no way of stopping yourself. And I know that it is hard, even when it’s over. Don’t hide from it after. Talk to me, okay?”

The order takes shape in his chest, but John doesn’t fret about it. After means when the curse is lifted, so it won’t ever take effect anyway.

“For the record,” John says finally, after some minutes of silence and trying to find words the curse will let him form, “I’m pretty sure you are free of it. You have argued with Bucky about mission plans too much.”

Yelena laughs. “Not quite what I meant, but I’ll take it.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Ava mumbles as John looks at the earplugs in his palm.

“He cannot surrender again because he’s told to,” Yelena shoots back. “He could get killed.”

“He also won’t hear any surrounding danger.” Ava’s face is extremely unhappy, and John appreciates her concern.

Over the past days, the team has experimented with the curse, which they still don’t know is a curse – they’re not sure if it was caused by the magical artifact mission or the alien tech mission, though Bucky seems quietly confident that it was magic – and they have come to the same conclusions as John: he has to hear and understand the orders to obey, and they have to be possible orders. So, Yelena and Bucky worked together to modify a pair of earplugs and combined them with their comm devices. If John wears them, he can only hear the comm channel of the team, and no outside noise. It means he doesn’t have to stay behind and make Valentina suspicious.

“Let’s get into position,” John hears Bucky’s voice through Ava’s comm, and he takes a deep breath, putting the earplugs into place. It’s odd to be cut off from all sound suddenly. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, the beat of his own heart, but nothing else. Then, there’s a crackle, and Bucky’s voice fills his head.

“Can you hear me, John?”

“Loud and clear,” John confirms, straightening his back. “I’m ready for this.”

“Okay. Ava and Yelena will keep an eye on your back, but be cautious anyway, please?”

John’s lips twitch into a smile on their own accord. Bucky’s solution to softening his orders is to turn every one into a question. It’s endearing, really. Not even on a mission Bucky seems too comfortable ordering him around.

Bucky continues the comm check, and when everyone has affirmed that they’re ready, the action starts. Today, they’re crushing a small anti-Avengers operative with access to government data. Another quick and easy mission. What could go wrong?

John has nobody to blame but himself. But when he saw someone shooting at Yelena from behind, he had to jump in between. And yes, maybe he’s not used to the taco shield just yet and he didn’t calculate that the bullets would be deflected by the curve towards his arm.

Which the nurse is currently digging them out of.

“Hold still,” she says when he twitches, and his whole body goes rigid. John wonders, nervously, if the medical staff knows. Technically he trusts them, they swore the Hippocratic Oath after all. But they’re also employed by Valentina, and who knows who she found for this job.

“Twist your arm.”

His arm moves on its own accord and pain shoots through it. It’s been a few days since he’s gotten actual orders, and it was always an accident by the team. So this is starting to make him feel uncomfortable, and in a way claustrophobic, like he’s wearing a straitjacket. He wants to fidget so badly.

“Stop straining,” the nurse says curtly, and his subconscious fighting against the curse stops. She must know. The anxiety is starting to overshadow the pain of having bullets dug out of his arm without pain medication.

The door is thrown open, startling the nurse, but John couldn’t flinch if he tried, body perfectly still. He expects a doctor, or maybe Valentina, but instead, Yelena waltzes into the room, looking freshly showered and wearing scrubs.

“You cannot be here for this,” the nurse tells her, and Yelena grins.

“I can and I will, so don’t try to fight me. I got clean for this.” She noisily drags a chair next to the bed and sits cross-legged on it, watching the nurse intensely. “Do not let me stop you. Go on. Relax, John. I owe you for this, so I want to be here.”

John’s shoulders slump, the order overriding the earlier one, and he tries not to show the relief on his face. They can’t have the nurse telling Valentina that the team knows.

Luckily, the nurse seems to give up and grabs his arm again, continuing the tedious task.

It takes decidedly too long until all nine bullets are removed from his arms and the nurse has bandaged him up. But as soon as she declares that he’s done, Yelena is there, offering John her hand.

“Let’s go, the team is waiting with takeout.” She grins. “Indian today. You like naan bread?”

“It’s just naan, actually.” John links their fingers together, and she wrinkles her nose.

“Do not lecture me on bread.”

Through the window in the operation room’s door, John sees a glimpse of Valentina, but when Yelena pushes the door open, she’s nowhere to be seen. Yelena’s presence must have scared her off. John has a feeling that this is the reason Yelena joined him in the first place.

“Thank you,” he forces out, and it isn’t difficult because of the curse this time.

She doesn’t acknowledge that he said anything at all, and he’s beyond grateful for it.

“You could have gotten yourself killed.” Bucky looks entirely too upset considering they’re eating the best butter chicken John has ever had. 

“I didn’t. And they were shooting at Yelena, what was I supposed to do?” John takes a sip of his water, arm burning when he lifts the glass. They should be healed by tomorrow, but for now, the wounds pull with every movement.

“You saved my Lena,” Alexei says with a wide smile. “I think you did great deed, Walker.”

“Don’t encourage him. He was being reckless.” Bucky’s tone is cutting, and John tries not to let it affect him. It’s hard. He thought Bucky finally likes him, or at least doesn’t hate him anymore, with how kind he’s been about the curse. This stings worse than his arms. 

“Don’t be so harsh.” Bob is looking back and forth between them. “You probably would’ve done the same.”

Bucky’s silence is enough of an answer, and John gives Bob a grateful grin. He smiles at him.

“Just don’t do it again,” Bucky grumbles into his takeout container, and John shakes his head.

“I can’t promise that, you know that.” If he sees one of the others in danger, he will act without thinking. 

“Then I forbid you from endangering yourself like that again!”

The order settles in John’s stomach, heavy and bitter, pushing bile up into his throat. “Understood,” he breathes out, and Bucky’s face shows immediate regret.

“Don’t do that!” Yelena snaps and gets up, pushing her chair back loudly. “You don’t get to use this! Take it back!” She adds a slew of Russian cursing right after.

The tense silence holds for a moment before Bucky exhales deeply. “Ignore that order,” he tells John. “I take it back.”

“You should probably apologise,” Ava throws in, clearly pissed. It’s kind of confusing, to have the team so firmly on his side. John fidgets with his fork.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky adds, and he sounds like he means it, at least.

John nods in acknowledgement and shovels some rice into his mouth to look busy. He doesn’t get apologies a lot, so he isn’t sure what to do with this one. 

“Don’t do it again,” Yelena says and sits back down.

“We should watch film after dinner!” Alexei claps his hands. “I have found film on the streaming site about obedience curse. It will be research! Tell us how to break it.”

Ava shrugs. “Worth a try,” she says around a mouthful of chicken, and the others around her agree, John unable to, but grateful for the suggestion in his heart.

“Kiss me. … That wasn’t an order, you know.”
“I know.”

Yelena and Bob giggle and kick their feet in sync on the armchair they’re sharing, and Ava snorts and throws a pillow at them. “This is so cheesy,” she complains.

“It is beautiful!” Alexei protests on the sofa next to her, big tears rolling down his face. “They are in love! He is letting her make choices! He does not want to tell her what to do! He is good man.”

John tugs the blanket closer around himself. Bucky next to him leans towards him, voice low. “Is it like this for you? That you feel when something is an order?”

Not looking at it, John taps the suns on the blanket.

“I see, okay.” Bucky turns back to face the TV, but he doesn’t move out of John’s personal space. John soaks up the warmth like a dying man.

“Please tell me— tell me you never wanna see me again.”
“I will if you tell me that you don’t love me.”

“No, Prince, tell her to leave!” Alexei loudly blows his nose. Even Ava’s eyes are glued to the TV by now, wondering how Ella will get out of this.

John smiles to himself. The movie will have a happy ending, of course. He doesn’t doubt it. If he will have one himself is less sure.

There’s movement next to him and then a metal hand grabs his own under the blanket. John’s heart skips a beat, but he forces himself not to analyse this right now. Not now. Bucky has been entirely too confusing the past weeks.

“What’s inside you, is stronger than any spell.”
“I will no longer be obedient! I will no longer be obedient!”

John holds his breath, watching the screen. He tried this before, it didn’t work for him. But maybe this will be the solution to the movie. And it turns out, it is. All six Thunderbolts exhale relieved in unison, but of course, the moment doesn’t last.

“I’m free.”
“You tried to kill me.”

“She loves you!” Alexei exclaims, further shredding the pillow he has grabbed between his hands.

“She needs to tell him about the spell right now,” Ava mumbles. “She needs to explain.”

“He won’t listen to her, he’s too much in shock.” Yelena throws another handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Bucky’s face returns to John’s ear. “Did you try this before? Telling yourself to stop?”

Again, John taps the blanket, though it’s harder this time, and he fears that the curse has caught on to the significance of it and will block it the next time he tries it.

“Do you think if one of us told you to stop—” Bucky shakes his head, cutting himself off. “I don’t want you to be in pain again when the different orders fight over which needs to be obeyed.”

John finds his body leaning slowly as the movie progresses. His arms hurt, and he feels exhausted from the fight earlier today and the entire situation he finds himself in recently. His head makes contact with Bucky’s shoulder, and he holds his breath. Maybe it’s silly to expect to be pushed away when Bucky is literally holding his hand right now, but John can’t help it.

Instead of pushing him away, however, Bucky pulls his hand out of John’s grip, and before he can panic, the metal arm is wrapped around him, holding him close.

John’s heart is pounding in his chest, cheek resting against the vibranium shoulder. It’s oddly comfortable, smooth and slightly warm from the body heat it has absorbed. But the most fascinating part is the quiet clicking and movement he can hear from inside it. Like clockwork.

Let me stay like this for the rest of my life and I can die happy. His face heats up at his traitorous thoughts, and he hopes Bucky can’t see it.

“I am sorry for what I did at dinner by the way,” Bucky mumbles as on screen the big fight breaks out. “I was worried. I know I’ve been harsh on you.”

“Well, we have our history,” John whispers back. “So I get it.”

“History that I’ve been overthinking in the past weeks.”

Surprised, John lifts his head to look at Bucky. “What?” he asks, voice still quiet to not disturb the others.

“I’ve been thinking that Sam and I were too harsh on you.”

Lost for words, John just looks at him until Bucky shifts under his gaze and shrugs. “You were put into an impossible situation, asked to fill shoes too big for anyone. And when—” Bucky shakes his head. “Things happened, and I think we should have sat you down and talked to you, really talked instead of, you know.”

They fall silent again, but Bucky’s hand rests on John’s waist, and something in his chest carefully pieces itself back together that he hasn’t realised was still broken.

“We should try mirror trick,” Alexei says decidedly when the credits of the movie roll. “I will go find mirror.”

“He tried it before,” Bucky stops him. “It clearly didn’t work. And he can’t try it in front of us anyway because of Valentina’s order.” His arm is still around John, and John can see the moment when the others notice.

Yelena elbows Bob a few times who can’t quite hide his grin, Ava’s eyebrows shoot up, and Alexei grins way too brightly.

Blood rushes to John’s face, but Bucky makes no move to pull away, so John tentatively stays put. What does it mean? He’s too tired to figure this out right now.

“Should one of us order you to kill Bucky?” Ava teases, and John glares at her, entirely unamused at the joke. He’s already worried enough that Valentina will demand something insane of him soon.

Bucky’s metallic fingers stroke John’s side under the blanket, and he breathes in and out deeply. “Good movie,” he finally says, diplomatic enough for the curse to allow it.

“It was!” Alexei agrees brightly. “Worry not, you will get happy ending, too!”

John smiles a little to himself. Maybe. He sure hopes so. But the team might just be insane enough to figure out a way to get him out of this mess.

He can’t sleep that night, thoughts running around his mind at top speed, about the movie, the curse, and, embarrassingly enough, mostly around Bucky and his arm around him. He can still feel the remnants of his touch when he focuses on it, and it has his skin buzzing with the need for it. He thinks of Bucky losing his cool and ordering John to stay safe, the regret and apologies. What is going on in Bucky’s mind? Why did me getting hurt mess with him so much?

With a groan, John sits up and rubs his face. His thoughts just won’t settle down. Maybe he should give up.

Checking the time, John sees that it is long past midnight, hours after he’s gone to bed. With a deep sigh, he pushes himself to his feet, pulls on the shirt that’s thrown over his chair, and pads into the hallway barefoot.

His goal is the kitchen, but his feet stop outside of Bucky’s door, and for a moment, he wonders. In the safety of the darkness, he lets himself imagine it. Knocking, going into the room, into Bucky’s bed, kissing him— John quickly keeps walking, shaking his head vigorously. Stop this. Just because Bucky is being friendly to you doesn’t mean he thinks of you in that way! You’d just creep him out.

No rash decisions past midnight. He should make himself some tea. Ava should have some expensive lavender one hidden in one of the cupboards. That might help him sleep.

A startled gasp greets him in the darkness of the kitchen, and it takes John’s eyes a moment to adjust to the low light of the city outside and spot Bob by the window. Reaching over, John turns on the light and stares at Bob. He’s wearing pyjamas and is curled up with a blanket.

“Can’t sleep?” John guesses, and Bob nods. Walking over to the kettle, John fills it with water. “Don’t tell Ava, we’re borrowing her tea.”

It takes three tries before John finally finds the right cabinet and the tea hidden behind stacked bags of oats. Alexei bought them when Yelena told him they were healthy. Now nobody wants to eat them.

“She’s going to kill us,” Bob says, but he doesn’t get up to stop John, so he takes out two teabags and plops them into the mugs (New Avengers merchandise) before pouring the boiling water over and joining Bob on the floor.

Taking the mug from him with a hum, Bob lifts the blanket at one side. John follows the invitation, scooching next to him and leaning against the cool glass. Bob leans into his side, and John realises that he’s shaking, so he puts an arm around his shoulders and holds him close, trying not to think of Bucky. He needs to be a good teammate right now and inspect his confusing feelings tomorrow.

They both sip their tea in silence for a bit before John speaks again. “Bad night?”

There hasn’t been another Void incident since that fateful day, but some days Bob is not doing well, and it takes one or more of them to pull him back out of it. One time his feet started to turn black, but Yelena smothered him in hugs until he was smiling again.

Because of John’s curse it seems they’ve neglected Bob a little. Feeling guilty, John holds him even tighter, putting his mug down next to them, taking Bob’s from him as well.. He knows he’s not Bob’s number one choice for dealing with this stuff, but they have become somewhat friends, so he hopes he’s not unwanted at least. And Bob has become a lot more touchy with John, so maybe he can fix this.

“Do you, um, want to talk about it? Or do you need me to wake Yelena or Bucky?”

Bob shakes his head and curls into John’s side. “Just nightmares,” he admits. “You should make sure not to touch any skin, just in case.”

Ah, yes. The shame rooms would be really interesting in this state. Would memories be able to order him around?

Pretty sure it doesn’t count as skin, John rests a hand in Bob’s hair, petting it carefully. “Sorry for stealing the attention recently,” he mumbles.

“Well, it’s not like you picked this voluntarily.” Bob relaxes against John, a warm weight at his side. “Thanks for the tea.”

John keeps playing with his hair, and his own thoughts slow down, either because of the tea or the company. Maybe both.

“You two will be good together,” Bob whispers after a little while when John already thought he fell asleep.

“What?”

“You and Bucky. Power couple. Oh no, now I’m thinking about supersoldier sex.”

Cheeks on fire, John’s hand stills. “We’re not—” he starts, shaking his head. “We don’t— He wouldn’t— Not me. He deserves better.” His voice gets quiet towards the end.

Bob presses his face to John’s chest, muffling his voice. “Firstly, you’ve gotten a lot better since all your stuff happened. Secondly, he looks like he knows exactly what he wants and deserves.”

Heart pounding, John stares into the dimly lit kitchen. If Ava or Alexei had said this to him, he would have easily brushed them off as being delusional. But Bob likes to be silent and just watch, figure people out. If anyone has noticed something about Bucky, it would be him.

“You think so?” He sounds pathetic, but Bob just nods against him.

“Yep. You should talk to him. Get coffee or ice cream.”

John snorts, ruffling Bob’s hair. “Aw, are those the kind of dates you’ve been on in the past?” he teases. “Very cute.”

“Shut up, I’m having a bad night, you need to be nice to me,” Bob grumbles, but John can hear the smile in his voice. He yawns loudly right after, and John leans his head back against the window.

“Sleep, Bobby.” He flinches. “Sorry. I know you don’t—”

“It’s okay,” Bob interrupts him, stretching out his legs and getting more comfortable in John’s hold. “You say it differently than him. I like it.”

They fall into silence again. John should probably move them to the sofa at least, but his legs feel too heavy in the cocoon of warmth they're in. His neck will complain tomorrow, but right now, he couldn’t care less.

“What if I dream again?” Bob whispers finally when sleep is tugging at John’s mind.

“‘s okay. I’ll fight your nightmares.”

“Like how you fought my father?” He’s smiling again, and John absently presses a kiss to Bob’s hair.

“Exactly. I’ll punch him in real life if you need me to.”

“No, just stay.”

“‘course, Bobby.”

John wakes up on the floor with Bob sleeping on his chest, the leftover tea cold and forgotten near them. He should get up and get rid of the evidence before Ava finds them, but the phone in his pyjama pocket buzzes, and frowning, John pulls it out.

Valentina, 5:58am : meet me in the downstairs lobby

A new question gets answered because John’s body starts moving before his tired brain has even fully processed the message, gently pushing Bob to the side and covering him with the blanket. He can’t even make his feet stop long enough to take him into his bedroom to change, they just carry him right into the elevator. So orders in text form work, too. Lovely.

The elevator dings and John steps out, a frown on his face. “What do you want?” he asks when he sees Valentina waiting for him. Her smile raises his hackles.

“I need some cleanup on a situation that the New Avengers are too good for.”

“I’m also an Avenger,” John reminds her, though in his head he prefers to still think of them as the Thunderbolts, and she tuts as if he’s a stupid child.

“Well, yes, but I can tell you to do it and you will. So let’s not even get up in arms about this. Execute this mission for me without complaints and without telling anyone about it.”

The order settles in John’s chest. Fuck.

John is crouching on the roof of the building where he is supposed to take out a former OXE employee who took notes on Project Sentry with him when he left. It is stupidly reminiscent of the movie they watched as his hands shake, wanting to reach for his gun.

When I’m home it’ll be lunch time, I should text them. About lunch. Just about lunch.

His hands obey and take out his phone. He opens the group chat and before his brain can properly catch up, he taps on every food emoji in the category and sends them to the chat. All separately, so their phones will get multiple messages, and maybe one of them will see.

It means I’m open for any food and will be hungry when I’m back. Definitely. Definitely that.

His phone starts ringing almost immediately, showing Bucky’s name. John’s hand moves fast, swiping to pick up before his muscles lock and force him to grab his gun instead, phone clattering to the floor.

“John? Where are you?” Bucky’s voice is quiet, but the worry is audible.

John’s teeth are clenched hard enough to hurt his jaw, but he manages a grunt, cocking his gun audibly.

“Okay, I’m going to track your phone. Try to fight it. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

There is no time to wait for them to track him. John breathes through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He takes one step towards the door leading off the roof to the apartments. No! His muscles strain harder, and his mouth works against the clamping.

“Bucky,” he finally manages, ashamed at how desperate he sounds, but the shuffling on the other side of the phone stops.

Please understand, please. Give me the order to stand down, I’m begging you.

“Stop what you’re doing, John,” Bucky says after a moment, voice firm, familiar. “Sit down and don’t move until we’re there.”

There’s voices on the other side.

“Or if there is danger,” Bucky adds.

His hands obey him when he puts the safety back on the gun, and it joins his phone on the floor as his legs give in and he slumps down on the concrete roof.

“Thank you,” he manages, closing his eyes. Thanking him for dinner plans, for sure.

“I didn’t want to risk it. It could have ended like when Yelena tried to make you tell her what’s wrong.”

This was the right decision.

“Got him!” Yelena’s voice sounds from the phone, and Bucky sighs into it.

“We’re coming. Don’t move. Unless there’s danger. Please.”

John smiles lopsidedly and hangs his head. He’s so tired of this. When will it finally be over?

This is how the rest of the team finds him. Sitting slumped in his uniform, gun and phone on the floor.

Yelena runs towards him and kneels down to hug him tightly. “We were so worried when you were gone this morning!”

“I couldn’t even yell at you about taking my tea,” Ava says with a small smile. Alexei is looking uncharacteristically stormy, and Bucky is very much reminding John of the Winter Soldier right now.

“What did she order you to do?” Alexei asks, probably forgetting that John can’t actually respond to questions about this.

“Ignore him,” Bucky snaps, quickly adding “If you want, this is not an order,” when John’s eyes jerk away from Alexei abruptly. Bucky walks closer and crouches in front of John.

“Are you hurt?” He’d be scary with how angry his face is, but his eyes are full of concern. And John knows the anger isn’t directed at him. Hasn’t been directed at him in a long time. He thinks back to his conversation with Bob the night before, and wants to reach out. He stops himself.

Realising Bucky asked a question, John shakes his head. There’s still the mission order in his chest, Bucky only said stop what you’re doing, which was holding the gun and getting ready to go in. 

In the background Ava is tapping on a tablet. “From what I can find, this is a residential building, no secret labs or villain hideouts.” Yelena gets back up to look over Ava’s shoulder.

Execute this mission for me without complaints and without telling anyone about it.

John starts fidgeting with his fingers, knocking them on his thighs, then on Bucky’s vibranium arm where it’s resting on his knees. Bucky’s eyes are trained on his hand. Forcing himself to breathe carefully and look out at the sky where the sun has risen by now – it’s almost noon – John taps three times long. Telling is very much verbal or text form, right? Telling is not tapping. I’m just fidgeting and tapping. I’m always fidgeting anyway.

Four more taps: long, short, short, long.

His eyes fix on a cloud that is shaped like a flower. Cute.

A short tap, and his hand is snatched away from Bucky by his body, before he’s reaching for the gun again. “I’m busy,” his mouth says. “You can go.”

But Bucky has that satisfied smile on his lips that he gets nowadays when John finds a way to trick the curse. It makes John’s chest and face heat up, heart stumbling in his ribcage.

“Ava, look at the residents of the building in relation to OXE.”

“He use morse code!” Alexei beams. “Walker, you’re smart man, incredibly smart man.”

The flush on his face increases even as his hands cock the gun again. Bucky’s right hand grabs John’s gun while the left pries his fingers open with ease— and not for lack of John holding on.

Bucky could probably manhandle me without breaking a sweat.

This makes a different kind of heat pool in his stomach, and for a moment, he forgets that he has a mission.

“Bingo,” Ava interrupts his thoughts. “Former OXE employee lives here. John’s here for clean-up.”

“How do we tell him to abandon the mission? What if she told him not to let anyone stop him?” Yelena sounds nervous. “He could get conflicting commands again.”

She was stupid and didn’t think I’d be able to contact you at all, just tell me to stop it, please.

John locks eyes with Bucky, who stares at him silently for a long minute.

“Walker, abandon mission,” Alexei interrupts the moment, and Yelena curses at him in Russian while Ava rushes closer, probably ready to tell him to forget Alexei said anything. John’s shoulders slump in relief and he picks up his phone.

He just wants to eat breakfast – or by now brunch – and then take a very long nap.

“Let’s head back.” I’d like to be fast asleep when Valentina finds out I didn’t complete the mission. It’ll mean she knows the team knows.

Bucky helps him up, handing him back his gun.

“Now Valentina will find out when the man continues to live,” Yelena voices John’s thoughts. “I could take care of it.”

“We don’t even know what he did,” Ava protests. “He could be an innocent man who just knows too much.”

“Do not go down this path again, little one,” Alexei agrees. “We go and we face Valentina.”

“And we plug John’s ears when we do so we don’t have another Sentry situation.” Ava holds the door to leave the roof open for them all.

Valentina waits for them in the lobby of the Watchtower.

Bucky, at the back with John, leans towards him. “I’m sorry for this. Cover your ears and don’t take your hands off for anything until I tap your arm.”

John’s hands fly up and he presses down on his ears as hard as he can in an attempt to block out his enhanced hearing. Bucky smiles at him a bit before stepping past him to approach Valentina with the others.

It’s uncomfortable, to be here, with all of them, with her, and to only hear the blood rushing in his head, and the faintest muffled voices. John can’t follow the conversation, but he knows tempers are running hot because Bucky keeps flexing and unflexing his arm, Alexei stands as stiff as a board, and Ava has a hand on Yelena’s arm, probably to keep her from jumping Valentina. Though Ava doesn’t look much calmer, she’s flickering a little occasionally.

He’s glad his team is so openly emotional. At least this way his brain can’t come up with self-deprecating lies, like them agreeing with Valentina and handing John over. Their dislike for the woman is plainly obvious.

Still, John wishes he knew what they’re saying. This is about him after all. Well, and the magical artifact and Bob, and the rest of them, but mainly about him. And it is uncomfortable to know someone is talking about you right in front of you when you can’t hear.

He watches as they very obviously argue, and finally, Valentina throws her hands up, as if in defeat, and takes out her phone. It’s John’s fault for looking. He should have known he’s too close, that his sight is too sharp, that the others don’t realise she can type something out for him to do.

Subdue them. Don’t allow any other commands to override this one.

Yelena hits the phone out of her hand a second too late. John is already moving.

“John, stop, don’t do this,” Ava begs, not an order. Her voice is muffled from John’s hands still covering his ears, but he’s close enough to hear them despite it now.

“Oh, take your hands away and do it properly,” Valentina snaps, walking backwards then, away from them as John convulses. 

Cover your ears and don’t take your hands off for anything until I tap your arm.

Take your hands away and do it properly.

Subdue them.

You are forbidden from telling anyone about this curse.

You will not let any command override this one.

John’s arms are shaking with effort. His muscles are trying to keep his hands pressed to his ears while also pulling at them to free them. The conflicting orders are making his still healing arms burn, his head pound. His legs give in, sending him to his knees. He hears a commotion in front of him, yelling, Valentina’s name, Bucky’s name. Dots dance in John’s view as his brain aches at the curse overloading.

A familiar metallic tap on his arm and his hands drop to his sides. Yelena and Alexei have cornered Valentina near the elevator. Bucky is kneeling in front of John, a pained look on his face.

Before his brain can catch up, John’s body moves, slamming his fist in Bucky’s face even as his thoughts scream at himself to stop. Oh isn’t this ironic? Now we do have the movie scene almost exactly, but there is no mirror that can make me stop myself.

Bucky skids backwards and John jumps to his feet, finding himself face to face with Ava.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, and John wants to tell her that they have to, because his body has clear instructions. His hands grab the taco shield from his back and swing it. Ava phases out of reach.

“John, please stop, this isn’t an order, but a request,” Yelena tries to sweep his legs out from under him while Alexei grabs John by the arms from behind, holding him against his broad chest.

I’m so tired. 

John twists in the grip, throwing Alexei over his shoulder into the wall, cratering it.

“Oh, this is just great,” Valentina complains. “Now we have more repairs to do.”

Not listening to her, John twists when Yelena jumps at him and swings his shield with full force, sending her flying after her father. This is bad. Yes, John is the strongest of them, by weight they can bench, but with technique and energy, they’re all evenly matched. But they’re trying not to hurt him and it’s holding them back.

And there’s nothing John can do.

His eyes unfocus and he just lets his body do its thing. Punch, kick, dodge, throw the shield. At least she said subdue instead of take down, so his hands stay away from his gun.

He passively registers Alexei going down in a pile of rubble when he hits another wall. Yelena is knocked out with the shield to the temple, Ava grabbed before she can phase and thrown after Alexei.

Bucky keeps coming at him despite the cuts and scrapes he has from John throwing him. It hurts to watch himself do this. But John can’t even wince when his shield repeatedly hits Bucky’s face. He knows he’s more durable than the others thanks to the serum, but Bucky isn’t invincible. Something will break eventually.

“It’s okay, John,” Bucky says when John kicks him backwards again. “This isn’t you.” He grins a bit. “Well, it is you, but it isn’t your fault.”

It makes John halt in his attacks for a moment as the familiarity of the words takes root in him.

“You’re quoting the goddamn movie,” he realises. I’m about to rip out your arm, and you’re quoting a goddamn fairy tale movie.

Bucky swings on him again, and John’s hands catch the vibranium arm, shoving Bucky back into the wall, and holding on even as his muscles constrict.

Don’t do this, come on, his arm gets sore and painful for days if the prosthetic is improperly removed.

He grits his teeth hard enough for one of them to chip as he mentally wrestles with his hands.

“I deserve it. An arm for an arm,” Bucky says, voice entirely too soft. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to stop this.”

Subdue them. Subdue them. Subdue them.

The vibranium groans under John’s hands. An arm for an arm. John remembers when Sam and Bucky broke his arm. The white hot pain.

Bucky has stopped fighting back, is just looking at him with those infuriatingly blue eyes of his. Like he really is okay with this, with John beating him up for Valentina, simply because John doesn’t have a choice.

“Oh, hurry up,” Valentina snaps from the side. “Before the others wake up again. He’s always been the most bothersome of the lot anyway, so just get rid of him entirely. Might speed things up.”

The order changes in his chest, and panic fills John as he fights harder against his own hands. One of them stays on the arm, the other takes out his gun.

No, no, no, no. Now I really am Anne Hathaway.

Bucky is watching him, not an ounce of fear in his eyes. As if he has full trust in John to stop himself. John looks at his distorted reflection in the vibranium arm, but he can’t even meet his own eyes with all the ridges. The gun in his hand cocks and he raises it to Bucky’s temple.

Don’t make me do this. Valentina, I swear I will kill you if you make me kill him. The second this order is over I’m shooting you next before you can even get a word out.

Bucky’s right hand comes up and cups John’s cheek. “This isn’t your fault,” he says firmly, and embarrassingly enough, John can feel tears well up in his eyes. Just when they were getting closer! When they were becoming something.

“I’m sorry,” John chokes out, and Bucky leans closer.

“Don’t be sorry. You know this isn’t an order?” His mouth twitches upwards. “Yes is kissing me.”

John bridges the last inches between them and presses their lips together desperately, finger trembling on the trigger of the gun. Bucky’s mouth is warm and soft against his own, a comforting pressure. His fingers run through John’s hair, and some hole in his chest that he hasn’t realised is still there, closes. John steps closer, their chests touching, and he can feel Bucky’s heartbeat.

You will not shoot him.

His finger starts pulling the trigger.

You will not shoot him. Fuck this curse. Fuck Valentina. I just want to sleep!

His hand jerks and the gun flies away, clattering to the ground, and John wraps both his arms as tightly around Bucky as he can, pressing his face into his vibranium shoulder.

No more obedience, this isn’t some movie, I will not be ordered around like this.

“Walker, step away from him,” Valentina calls. “Pick up your gun and finish the job, John!”

John waits for the order to solidify in his chest, but there is nothing but warmth from being this close to Bucky. Embarrassment curls around his insides.

“A fucking kiss to break the curse,” he whispers. “This is worse than how she broke it in the movie.”

Bucky snorts, resting his head on John’s for a moment before carefully pushing him back. “Let’s check on the others and then make sure we tell Mel to get rid of all the artifacts.”

“I’m in!” Yelena’s shout startles John where he was making himself some tea in the kitchen.

It’s been a long day. Despite Bucky’s protests, John went with him and Mel to the lab where they kept the magical artifacts and had them all sent to that wizard guy, Wong. Valentina had no choice but to let it happen since she doesn’t have a circus monkey anymore to protect her, and Bucky pulled the former congressman card, threatening to expose her lies concerning the New Avengers.

On the way back to the Watchtower, Bucky bought John a bagel, but they haven’t talked about the events yet. And John has been telling the others to fuck off when they tried to pry from him how exactly he beat the curse. It’s simply too humiliating. One good kiss and it was all dealt with. … But it wasn’t just one good kiss, was it? It was the prospect of shooting the man you—

“John, movie time!” Bob calls, and John rubs his face before grabbing his mug. Hopefully they picked something light and entertaining. He will probably fall asleep halfway through.

Everyone is sitting in their usual seats, Yelena and Bob in the armchair, Alexei and Ava on the couch near them, so John joins Bucky on the remaining couch. Unsure where they stand now, he keeps some space between them and sips his scalding hot tea. He stole another lavender tea bag from Ava, but she’s too fixated on the screen to notice.

“What are we watching?” John asks suspiciously because there’s a laptop connected to the TV and the paused screen doesn’t look like a normal movie start. More like security footage. Are they watching some found footage horror film?

Yelena’s bright grin on her bruised face is foreboding, and when she presses play, John realises what’s going on, why she yelled earlier. They hacked the tower’s security cameras. There, on screen, John is throwing Yelena across the room, a blank expression on his face.

John makes to stand up, not wanting to see this, but Bucky puts a hand on his thigh, patting it gently.

“We’ll watch something better after,” he promises.

“Nothing better than this!” Alexei exclaims as his version on the screen craters the first wall.

“It’s like a sequel to Ella Enchanted,” Ava says amused. “A more violent and less straight sequel.” John doesn’t ask what she knows.

Bucky puts the sun blanket around John’s shoulders and scoots closer to him so their sides are pressed together. His hand returns to John’s thigh, and it helps ground him, keeps the crushing guilt at bay as he watches how he beats up his friends on TV.

They wince occasionally as they remember a particular blow, but they’re all enraptured with the screen. They want to know how I broke free. John fidgets with the tea cup nervously. This will give them teasing material for forever. He doesn’t want to be here. But he also doesn’t want to leave. Not when Bucky is warm and solid against him.

He keeps mechanically sipping his tea, putting it on the coffee table when it’s empty. He didn’t realise how long this took. Even though all of them were holding back, they still put up a good fight.

John swallows past the lump in his throat as he watches them go down one after the other. Only Bucky is left standing, and John flinches with every time the shield hits his face. Yelena pauses the footage when they move towards the opposite wall, and switches to a closer camera angle. Oh, great, they planned for everything.

“It’s okay, John,” the Bucky on screen says, breathing heavily. “This isn’t you.” He grins through the exhaustion. “Well, it is you, but it isn’t your fault.”

Alexei laughs loudly and says at the same time as past-John calls Bucky out on it “You remember movie! You quote it!”

Past-Bucky hits the wall and John wants to avert his eyes but finds them glued to the expression on Bucky’s face. Full of acceptance and trust.

“I deserve it. An arm for an arm. Don’t hurt yourself trying to stop this.”

The mirth fades from the room, and the others are on the edge of their seats, staring at the security footage.

John’s own face on screen is strained, his whole body trembling with the effort of trying to stop this. Present-John curls his fingers tightly around the blanket. He knows what’s about to happen. Something the others weren’t conscious for.

“Oh, hurry up,” Valentina’s angry voice sounds. “Before the others wake up again. He’s always been the most bothersome of the lot anyway, so just get rid of him entirely. Might speed things up.”

“Oh no,” Bob mumbles.

“It was just a joke that we should copy the movie.” Yelena sounds like she also doesn’t find it funny anymore as John on the TV takes out his gun, face panicked.

Present-John on the sofa feels like he’s going to throw up and barely registers Bucky putting an arm around him to pull him closer.

“This isn’t your fault,” past-Bucky says, and past-John visibly tears up.

“I have feeling we should not have watched this,” Alexei says, but nobody makes a move to turn it off.

“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You know this isn’t an order? Yes is kissing me.”

John can feel multiple pairs of eyes on him as he and Bucky kiss on the large TV screen. Even as his face heats up, he ignores them. When do you ever get to see yourself kiss someone from an outside perspective? Past-John is crying, his hand with the gun pressed to past-Bucky’s head shaking. Past-Bucky just looks like he’s savouring every touch. Was he ready to die kissing me? And happy to go that way?

Finally, the gun is thrown aside, and past-John clings to past-Bucky, both of them ignoring Valentina’s shouting, and whispering with each other— too quiet for the security camera to pick up on it.

Ava phases over to the laptop and turns the footage off. For a moment, nobody says anything. Then, Alexei lets out a wail.

“This was beautiful! Even more beautiful than movie! True love kiss broke curse!” He is sobbing openly, and John wants to run. Bucky’s arm around him keeps him on the sofa.

“I get why you didn’t want to talk about it,” Ava says carefully. “I’m sorry we didn’t respect your privacy.”

“That must’ve been such a scary moment.” Bob’s eyes are bright, mouth slightly downturned.

“But you did it. Of course you did it.” Yelena is smiling at John. “You’re the strongest of us after all, as you love to remind us.” She adds a wink to her teasing, and John rolls his eyes a bit.

“Bucky didn’t even look afraid,” Bob adds. “So cool.”

Bucky shrugs next to John and looks at him. “I knew he’d fight it. I had no reason to be scared.”

It pulls another emotional wail from Alexei, and Yelena throws him a box of tissues while Ava disconnects the laptop and navigates the TV to their usual streaming site.

“I think we need something fun and easy.” She presses play on a movie called Blades of Glory, and John leans into Bucky’s side, eyelids heavy.

“I didn’t just kiss you because of the curse,” Bucky whispers into John’s ear when the movie starts playing and everyone is engrossed in it.

John turns his head slightly. “So it wasn’t a one-time thing?” He’s trying to sound like he’s joking, easy-going, but it comes out entirely too pathetic and hopeful.

Instead of answering, Bucky leans even closer and connects their lips briefly. “Definitely not a one-time thing,” he whispers into John’s mouth. He kisses his cheek, moving his lips back to John’s ear. “Now sleep, you look dead on your feet. I got you.”

John wants to protest, but Bucky is so warm and inviting, he allows him to envelop John with his arms, and his eyes slide shut. He doesn’t stand a chance against sleep.

“You broke the curse with a kiss?” Sam’s eyebrows are near his hairline.

“It’s romantic,” Bucky insists, but there’s a grin on his face. John glares at both of them.

“It wasn’t just a kiss! It was all my mental energy, and me fighting myself to not kill you, asshole.” He shoves Bucky lightly. “The kiss just gave me even more incentive to keep you alive.”

Sam snorts. “You got the fairytale ending, I can’t believe this. What’s next, poison apples and talking animals?”

“Alright, let’s leave my boyfriend alone before he has an aneurysm,” Bucky says amused and grabs John’s hand.

All the indignation and fight leave him at the word boyfriend because he’s a sappy idiot who had to fall in love with Bucky Barnes of all people. Luckily, Joaquin calls for Sam from the other side of the garden at that moment, where he’s manning the grill.

“I gotta make sure he doesn’t set himself on fire.” Sam studies John before nodding at him. “Good job on not killing Bucky.” He smirks. “Princess.”

Bucky has to spin John around and drag him in the other direction to where Yelena is playing with Sam’s nephews so he doesn’t yell profanities after Sam. But secretly, John doesn’t mind the friendly banter. It’s miles from their previous encounters. And if it gets Bucky to call him his boyfriend, well, he’ll take the teasing.