The Boy is Mine

by Purple_Grogu

Summary:

So I heard Brandy and Monica are launching The Boy is Mine Tour. And it reminded me of how iconic that song was back in the day! (Although I don't condone women fighting over ANY man...except maybe Chris Evans or Morris Chestnut). And THEN I thought to myself, what if Bucky and Sam didn't know they were both hooking up with the same guy (read: John). So here we are...

Chapter 1

John closed the door behind him as he entered the training facility. He was nervous. Captain America had offered to train with him. Let’s bury the hatchet, he had said at the time. And now John was here. Wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and a forced smile.

In the middle of the room, Sam was sparring with a large punching bag. His loose black tank top perfectly framed his muscular biceps that flexed with each throw. He had on a loose pair of basketball shorts, but John could still see the sexy outline of his firm ass. Shit. Was he staring? No. No, definitely not. He was just making observations in the unfamiliar space. That’s all.

“You’re late,” Sam called out playfully.

“Sorry. I got a little lost,” John explained, dropping his gym bag against the wall. Sam nodded. He had been living in DC long enough to know how easily you could get turned around. The narrow, winding streets and large roundabouts were better suited for horses and carriages, not cars and buses.

“We’re working on one-to-one combat today,” Sam announced. “I’m gonna try to put you in a headlock, and you work on evasive moves. Got it?”

John nodded. It sounded easy enough. Sam walked over and opened his arms slightly.

“Ready?” There was a teasing twinkle in his eyes. Then he lunged at John who managed to duck in the opposite direction to end up on the other side of the mat.

“Nice one!” Sam cheered. He returned to his open-armed stance again, eyes watching John closely for any sign of movement. This time he faked like he was attacking John from his left but dove to his right at the last minute when John tried to dodge the movement again. Their large bodies gawkily crashed into each other, causing them both to fall to the mat.

Sam landed on top of John with a weak oomph. John had fallen on his back but pushed himself up on his elbows. He looked up at Sam who was staring down at him with an amused grin. Then his eyes slowly traveled down John’s face to his lips. Sam licked his lips and returned his eyes to meet John’s. Something stirred in John’s stomach, spreading to his crotch.

Sam’s face moved closer and closer to his. He moved at an unnaturally slow pace. Giving John time to move or turn away. But he didn’t. A shiver coursed through his spine when their lips finally met. Arousal throbbed in his pelvis. He pulled away abruptly. He had never kissed another man. Sam stared at him patiently, his eyes softened as they studied his face. This wasn’t right. But he couldn’t deny it made him feel good. Excited. And it had been so long since he had been touched. Maybe he could muster just one more kiss, he thought. Just to make sure he didn’t like it.

John leaned in again until their lips met. Fuck. A jolt of electricity ran down his body. Kissing Sam was even better the second time. It was like something unleashed inside him. And all he wanted was more. Sam’s lips pushed back firmly, but he didn’t deepen the kiss. John had a feeling Sam was waiting for him to take the lead. So he did.

John used a hand to hold Sam’s head steady while he tilted his head from side to side, wanting to explore every angle of Sam’s lips. Sam’s tongue pried open his mouth. Their tongues wrestled insistently for control. Fuck. John was so turned on. He felt his cock hardening in his shorts. He couldn’t help himself. He let out a long moan.

“Mmmm, I like that sound,” Sam mumbled against his lips. He pulled away and rubbed his soft lips along both sides of John’s neck, earning more loud moans from John. Then he went back over every inch of John’s neck with his tongue. John grabbed Sam’s back to steady himself. His body was almost convulsing with desire. More, more, more, was all his brain could think.

Sam’s face was in front of his again. Memorizing John’s features. Trying to read how the other man was feeling.

“Can I touch you John?” he asked softly. So softly it was almost a whisper.

“Y-yeah. P-please,” John whimpered.

Sam kept eye contact as he reached into John’s shorts. His hand wrapped around John’s hard cock. He gave it a few strokes then moved his hand to explore the wet tip.

John moaned. He grabbed Sam’s neck and crashed their lips together again. Sam’s hand moved to John’s balls: cupping, massaging, squeezing. John’s head fell back against the mat with a loud moan. He was laying flat now, completely at the mercy of the sexy man straddling him.

Sam’s hand returned to stroking his cock. Slowly at first. Then picking up the pace as John’s breaths intensified. John felt himself getting wetter and wetter. More pre-cum leaked with his growing orgasm. His hips started to arch up in pleasure.

“Oh my god…Sam…Oh Saaam…Sam, I’m gonna—!”

 

*****

 

John jerked awake. Shit. His chest rose rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. This was the third wet dream this week. And all of them had been about Sam. What did it mean? He wasn’t gay. And had never been with a man. Or even thought about one like that. But even he could admit Sam was beautiful to look at.

Since his fight with the Red Hulk, Sam was appearing more and more on TV. Interviews, magazines, photo shoots. The Thunderbolts had defeated a darkness threatening to take over the entire East Coast. But that only lasted in the news cycle for a day or two. Sam taking up the mantle of Captain America with his hot, young friend Joaquin Torres as the Falcon supplied journalists with far more content: TV biopics, gossip blogs speculating their celebrity friendships, and of course so much merchandise. Even his own son had asked for Captain America and Falcon action figures this coming Christmas.

He sighed as he pulled back his sheets. He was soaking wet. Sweat dripped down his neck and his shorts were damp from the wet dream. He would have to do laundry again. He just hoped his roommates didn’t notice how often he was using the washing machine lately. Especially, Yelena who was obnoxiously observant. And sometimes just plain nosy.

John managed to take a cold shower and slip into a T-shirt and shorts. He wandered out to the kitchen where he could already hear cheerful voices and the clatter of silverware.

“You look like shit John Walker,” Yelena greeted him through a mouthful of eggs.

“Gee, thanks. Nice to see you too.”

“She’s right though. Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?” Concern lined Ava’s face.

“Yeah actually. Something like that,” he mumbled, reaching for the coffee pot. His hand stopped mid-air when he saw a magazine on the counter with Sam Wilson on the cover.

People Magazine’s Most Eligible Bachelor: Sam Wilson aka Captain America is single! Read more inside on what he’s looking for in a partner, his ideal first date, and his biggest pet peeves.

He wasn’t wearing his usual superhero suit. Instead, he was wearing on off-white blazer with a light-blue tie and matching pocket scarf. The photographer had pretended the camera was capturing him in the middle of adjusting his tie. The reader took on the role of a mirror that Sam looked into with his beautiful dark brown eyes. His eyes seemed to stare directly into John’s soul. Sam’s face smirked back at him like he knew about John’s sex dreams. John noticed the lighting in the photo enhanced every angle of his smooth brown skin. He couldn’t help thinking about what Sam’s skin would feel like against his hands…or taste like on his lips. Fuck.

“Who keeps getting these trashy magazines?” he groaned.

“Sorry! That’s mine,” Bob appeared behind him and grabbed the magazine. “They included an article about us in this one. Almost a page long!”

“Oh! Much longer than the last one. Bring it here, Bob. Read it aloud!” Alexei was happy with any type of publicity.

John rolled his eyes. He was sure they reserved at least ten pages for perfect Mr. America. Valentina kept pushing them to do press tours, but they weren’t gaining much popularity. Inevitably, people found Sam far more interesting and likeable. He was a real Avenger who had worked with other real Avengers and fought real galactic threats. Like aliens, wizards, and androids.

John lost his appetite.

“I’m going for a run,” he mumbled to no one. He returned to his room to grab his headphones and change into his running shorts. His watch had a GPS to lead him straight to Central Park—his favorite route to run. The Tower was smack in the middle of the loudest part of Park Avenue. They were near Grand Central Terminal, Times Square, and plenty of other tourist attractions. Not ideal for running. Sure, the park had lots of people too. But the sprawling area made it the perfect place to run without having to dodge selfie sticks and outstretched fingers pointing up at skyscrapers.

He plugged in the coordinates for Bethesda Fountain where he liked to start and end his route. A cool breeze hit his face when he opened the lobby doors. The temperature was just right. Slightly too chilly at the start of his run, but a welcome coolness after he got worked up.

He pushed a button on his watch and started running. The stretching of his muscles and impact of his shoes against the ground were grounding. He faintly heard his breaths under the pump-up music playing in his ears. If he had to stop at a light, he jogged in place to keep his muscles warm and his heart rate up. But for the most part, he was able to jog the 20-minute stretch to the park without stopping.

He ran and ran. Focusing on the feeling of his muscles opening up and his lungs constricting with each movement. He definitely wasn’t thinking about Sam’s magazine cover. Or wondering what the article revealed about what Sam’s looking for in a partner. Nope. Not at all. He was just a man jogging in Central Park.

“Shit!” John was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t see the man who had just stepped in front of him. They bumped into each other clumsily but thankfully neither of them fell. John took in a sharp breath when he realized who it was.

“Aww man!” Joaquin leaned down to pick up his hot dog. It was mostly wrapped in foil. A baseball cap shielded his eyes which were examining the fallen hot dog for debris. Deciding it was still edible, he shrugged and brought it to his mouth.

“That’s nasty, man!” A familiar voice said next to John. He turned to face the man that had been invading his dreams. Sam was walking over from a food truck holding a milkshake and carton of fries.

“Oh hey! Sorry about that Torres.” John offered. Joaquin’s cheerful smile turned into disgust when his eyes landed on John. Truth be told, the three of them had never really gotten along. They fought the Flag Smashers. Then Joaquin and Sam headed off to DC to be the national symbols of hope. He stayed in New York with his now ex-wife and son. Word had it the two of them had been spending time in New York lately to recruit some highly confidential enhanced individuals…Or because they were filming Space Jam 3…Depending on which news source you trusted.

Under the heat of their stares, John felt aware of the sweat cascading down his face. He probably looked like a sweaty mess. He lifted his shirt to wipe his face and neck. Sam’s eyes, slightly hidden under a cap, flicked down to John’s bare chest, then back up to his eyes.

John stared awkwardly at Sam and Joaquin, very aware of how out of place he felt. None of them spoke, letting the crowded noise of Central Park filled the air around them. Sam just sipped his milkshake and gave John a nod, the kind you give a person you’ve shared battles with but never considered a friend. Joaquin took another questionable bite of his hot dog, apparently bored with the awkwardness and unfazed by the germs.

“Funny running into you guys here. Well, see you around.” He took off before anyone could prolong the uncomfortable encounter. He couldn’t help but feel their eyes on his back. You’re imagining things. Just turn around and look. So he did. Joaquin was still fully engrossed in his hot dog. The smile had returned to his soft brown eyes. And Sam was sipping his milkshake. But his eyes were watching John disappear into the distance. An unreadable expression on his face.

The awkward encounter lingered in his mind as he picked up his pace again, sprinting down the winding paths until the park faded and the city’s concrete pounded against his shoes again. His muscles burned, his lungs begged for relief, but he pushed himself harder. He dodged cyclists and dog walkers, breaking into a final run that carried him all the way back to the Tower.

“Jesus Christ this city is too fucking small,” he groaned, slamming his headphones on the kitchen counter when he walked in from the elevator. Bucky had files and papers spread out across the surface. He looked up in annoyance at the disturbance.

“What happened?” he asked in a bored tone.

“I ran into Torres and Wilson.”

Bucky clenched his jaw at the sound of their names. “Oh? What did they say?”

John shook his head. “Not a thing. Absolutely nothing. Just pretended I was a complete stranger.”

Bucky sighed. “I’m sorry that happened, Walker. You know this isn’t about you, right? None of this. They hate me for all this New Avengers bullshit. Sam had told me months ago when President Ross asked him to restart the Avengers. I guess he feels like I betrayed him. But they shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” Bucky looked genuinely sorry, and kind of sad. Two emotions John had never seen on his face before.

“Don’t worry about it, Barnes. I was never friends with them anyway, so I’m not losing sleep over it.”

Bucky grimaced. Oops. Probably the wrong thing to say. Bucky had been friends with them. He rarely mentioned Sam’s name, so John wasn’t sure if he didn't miss his partner or was just actively avoiding the feelings of the loss he felt. John rubbed his face in exasperation. This was their problem to figure out. The Sam-Bucky Civil War was exhausting for everyone to navigate. Hushed whispers about lawsuits and copyrights filled the halls of the Tower at least once a week. But those two were both too damn stubborn to ever just sit down and talk things out. He had enough drama in his own personal life. He didn’t need to be a part of whatever shit they did or didn’t have going on.

He grabbed his headphones, a cup of yogurt, and a bottle of water before returning to his room for another shower. A tiny vibration on his watch let him know he had an incoming message. Probably Olivia confirming he was seeing JJ this weekend.

Hey John. Its Sam. Dinner tonight? We should talk

 

John stared, open mouthed at the message on his watch. He fumbled around in his pocket until he found his phone. The unread message on the screen read the same thing from a number he didn’t recognize. What the fuck? Was this some kind of joke? He threw the phone on his bed, deciding to ignore it. Sam had some fucking nerve.

Instead he opted for a shower and a nap. A few hours later he was in the kitchen cooking himself some fish tacos. He wasn’t still stewing about the unanswered text from Sam. Nope. He had long forgotten about it.

“John!” Alexei’s booming voice pierced through his thoughts. “We’re all going out to this fancy sushi place tonight. Are you coming?!”

John looked at the clock. 16:42. He wasn’t feeling in the mood for a big hangout with the whole team. They were great. But loud. And all very extroverted. Unfortunately, it was too early in the day to make the excuse that he needed to go to bed.

“Oh not tonight guys. I have plans. Have fun though,” John answered automatically.

“Next time then!” Alexei left him with his thoughts. Technically, he could have plans. He just didn’t have any yet. So it wasn’t really a lie. He sighed and whipped out his phone. Before he could talk himself out of it, he typed a quick response to Sam.

 

Fine. When and where?

 

He didn’t expect an answer after leaving Sam on “read” for so long. But at least a reply showed he was trying to be cordial—. His watch vibrated a few seconds later.

 

350 5th Avenue at 18:00

 

John looked at the clock on his phone. 16:55. Damn. That didn’t give him much time to get ready and walk over. The address looked close enough to them. He swallowed the last of his tacos and rushed back to his room. Did he dare take a third shower today? He shook his head. This was just Sam. He finally settled on maroon dress pants and a white button-down shirt. He freshened up a little bit and trimmed some stray hairs. But he would do that for dinner with anyone. 

John walked out to the living room, fumbling with a maps app on his phone. Bucky was reading a book in one of the oversized armchairs. He looked up when John entered the room.

“Wow. You look…nice.” He sniffed the air exaggeratedly. “And smell nice. And wait did you trim your beard? Who are you all dressed up for Walker?”

John laughed. “Thanks, man. I, uh, I’m having dinner. With Olivia and JJ. I can’t have her thinking I fell apart after she left me.” He was surprised how easily the lie flowed out. And he sounded convincing. He almost believed what he was saying himself.

Bucky nodded. “That’s great, John. I’m really glad you’re spending time with them. Enjoy yourself.”

John said goodnight then headed for the elevator. As the doors closed he noticed Bucky’s eyes were still watching him. And something else was tugging at the back of his mind. John. Bucky had called him John. Had he ever done that before? Maybe his brick walls were coming down and they could be something like friends one day?

He shrugged it off. He needed focus the next 15 minutes of the walk on his breathing. And at no point would he let himself think about the dreams he had been having.

A ping from the app on his phone told him when he had arrived at the location. Large gold doors gleamed brightly at the entrance, reflecting the glow of the setting sun.

“Good evening, Mr. Walker. Mr. Wilson is expecting you,” a person in a black suit greeted him. They opened one of the doors for John with a subtle bow. John frowned.

“Umm…Thank you.” He was taken aback at the formality. His mouth went dry when he walked into the lobby. Empire State Building was etched into the wall behind the large security desk. Shit. How did he not notice where he was? The flocks of tourists outside should have been a red flag. And maybe if had just looked up to the sky on his walk over here. Another person in a suit greeted him.

“You are a guest of Mr. Wilson, yes? Follow me, sir.” John followed them to the elevator bank. What the fuck? His mind was short circuiting. When Sam suggested dinner, he thought they would grab a slice of pizza and maybe some cheesecake. This was…a lot. The number 89 glowed brightly on the side as the elevator barreled up the elevator shaft. This had to be some cruel joke. Sam was definitely gonna stand him up.

John was thankful for the soft jazz music playing. It was marginally calming his nerves. Then a loud ring announced they had reached their destination: the 89th floor.

He inhaled realizing he was wrong about the other man standing him up. Sam was already there. Wearing light gray dress pants and a black shirt tucked into his shirt with a belt. He turned around when he heard the elevator doors open, still holding a phone to his ear.

“Okay well I have to go. I’m heading into an important meeting. Tell your momma I say goodnight…I love you too Cass. Give AJ a big hug.” He pocketed his phone and waved John over to a circular table in the middle of the room.

“This place is…wow Sam. I don’t even know what to say.” The restaurant had a 360-degree view of the city. To the east, he could see a dazzling sunset falling behind the Hudson River. Dimly lit chandeliers lined the ceilings. Dozens of cream-colored tables and chairs were spread throughout the room—none of them were occupied.

Sam smiled. “I get 50% off all my meals and complete privacy when I dine here. It brings the restaurant publicity when the public speculates about the dates I bring here. Win-win for all I guess.”

John took a deep breath as he fell into a chair. There was a familiar twitch in his pants. “And is that what this is? A date?” He asked softly. He couldn’t deny a part of him hoped the answer was “yes.”

Sam chuckled. “No, man. This is just me extending an olive branch. I’ve kind of been an asshole to you. I just...I want to repair things?”

John nodded, plastering on a relieved smile to hide his disappointment that it was just a business meeting. They chatted like old friends for the next hour. Eating delicious food their Southern roots couldn’t help them pronounce and drinking “whatever beer is on tap.” The waiter had given them a mildly annoyed look at such a basic drink request.

Eventually the conversation transitioned from professional updates to something more personal. Sam talked about his nephews and the havoc they were getting into in school. John proudly bragged about his son’s milestones including his upcoming first day of preschool. He might have even let it slip that his son wanted a Captain America doll for Christmas. Sam had smiled sweetly and offered to meet him in person instead.

It had been two and a half hours when the waiter finally came by with their desserts and the check. John and Sam reached for the check at the same time. Their hands touched. Shit. John yanked his hand back when he felt the electric shocks travel up his arm from the contact. He looked at Sam with a questioning look.

“I…um…I need the bathroom,” he excused himself. He raced back towards the elevators. For a moment, he thought about faking a stomach bug and just leaving. This was ridiculous. He had managed to go the whole evening without thinking of his teenage fantasies, and it only took one touch to send him back to throws of arousal.

“The restroom is this way, sir,” a voice told him. John nodded gratefully. He took one last look at the elevator doors. Seriously considering his rushed escape plan. But decided against it. This was such a kind gesture from Sam. He couldn't run out on him.

John pushed into an extravagant bathroom. The dim lighting accentuated the view of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Taxis and cars twinkled on the streets below. The polished marble floor reflected modern light fixtures above.

He rushed into a stall. It felt silly to lock himself in one given there was no one else here. He just needed to catch his breath. Sam was making him feel…something. He wasn’t sure what. It felt like an internal battle of intrigue and fear.

John took another deep breath. After a while, he realized he couldn’t stay in here much longer without drawing suspicion.

A long row of sinks with chrome faucets met him when he finally emerged from the stall. He splashed water on his face repeatedly, vaguely aware of the man who had just entered the bathroom.

“You good? You got up so quickly. I was worried the food wasn’t sitting right?” Sam leaned casually against the bathroom door watching John dry off his face. His crossed arms highlighted his bulging muscles in the silky sleeves of his shirt.

“Yeah, no. All good here.” John was very aware how weak his voice sounded right now. He needed to get home and sit with his thoughts. Just figure out what the hell was happening with him. When had Sam become so sexy?  If he stayed here any longer, Sam would definitely notice he was acting strange.

He avoided Sam’s eyes and walked over to the door. His hand gripped the handle, but Sam didn’t move from his spot in front of the door. John held his breath and looked at Sam’s face. They were nearly the same height, Sam a few inches taller. He had never been so close to him before. Up close, he noticed the sweet fragrance of Sam’s cedarwood body wash, his full lips and rounded nose, those gorgeous cheekbones that made his face so expressive. John swallowed. Did he dare?  He hazarded a glance up into Sam’s eyes which were still watching him with intrigue. His pants were feeling uncomfortably tight.

“So, umm. Thank you again. I guess we should go,” John mumbled uncertainly.

“Thank you for coming John. This was...the best dinner I’ve had in a while.” He smiled shyly.

John’s hand was still on the door handle. And Sam was pinned against the door in front of him. Visions from his dreams flooded back to him. But none were as arousing as the real deal. Slowly, John lowered his hand from the doorknob to the lock. He twisted it. The satisfying click was the only sound in the large bathroom. Now what?

Sam made the first move. He tentatively raised one of his hands to cup the side of John’s face. John shivered. He definitely hadn’t imagined it earlier. It felt like a shock of static electricity every time Sam touched him. His eyes closed, drowning in Sam’s touch. Sam brought another hand to the other side of John’s face. His thumbs drew small circles on John’s cheeks.

John opened his eyes. He wanted to watch everything, root himself in the present to know he wasn’t dreaming. He reached his hands up to grip Sam’s elbows—urging him not to break their contact. Sam’s lips parted. John watched the movement hungrily. His eyes met Sam’s again. A renewed surge of desire wracked through his body. And their faces were close. So close. With just one tiny movement, John could close the distance between them.

He let his face move closer to Sam’s until their noses rubbed together. Fuck. He couldn’t deny himself any longer. He wanted this. He wanted Sam.

John moved his hands to Sam’s waist and pushed him flush against the door to close the distance between their bodies. Then his mouth covered Sam’s. They moved their lips slowly against each other, finding a rhythm. Until lust took over. The kiss turned messy. Their teeth clicked together, tongues entangled, and fingers tugged on hair.

Sam untucked John’s shirt to run his warm hands over his chest. John gripped his waist harder, struggling to stay steady on his feet. Without their faces breaking apart, he loosened Sam’s belt. In a few quick movements he unbuttoned Sam’s shirt. He broke away from the kiss to stare at Sam’s bare chest. His shiny brown skin was molded into two chiseled pecs and six perfectly symmetrical abs. John palmed his skin from his neck to the top of his pants over and over. So fucking sexy, he mused.

Sam laughed and removed his shirt completely. “Thanks. I work out.”

John blushed realizing what he had said out loud. But Sam wasn’t phased. Their lips met again. He pulled John closer to his waist. They rubbed their crotches together realizing how hard both of them were. Sam flipped them around so John’s back was now against the door. He dropped to his knees and unbuttoned John’s pants. John’s breath hitched. His cock throbbed with anticipation.

Sam pulled his pants down. Then freed his leaking cock. He looked up at John under long lashes before slowly taking John’s length in his mouth. Inch by inch. Until John had bottomed out in the wet warmth of his mouth.

Sam took him slowly at first. Adjusting to John’s thick cock. He used one hand to hold John’s waist back against the door and the other to move in sync with his mouth. He started to pick up speed. Waves of pleasure cascaded down John’s body.

“Fuck! Sam. Oh my god.” John struggled to stifle his moans. In his dreams he never came. But right now, he was so close. Grabbing Sam’s head he thrusted his hips, wanting so bad to prove to himself this was real.

“OHHHHHHH,” he screamed out as his orgasm swallowed him up. He came. Hard. The stars clouding his vision sparkled like the ones in the dark sky outside the window. He felt like he was flying. No falling. John let his head fall with a thump against the bathroom door. His legs continued shaking with the aftershocks of the best orgasm he had ever had.

Sam stood up, licking his lips hungrily. John pulled him in for a kiss by his neck. His cock was twitching, already getting hard again. His tongue swept inside Sam’s mouth, tasting a mix of his salty release and beer. John moved his hand into Sam’s pants, grunting when he realized how wet Sam already was. For him. His hands were sweaty. Allowing his hand to slide up and down Sam’s cock.

“Sam…” John whined. He looked down at his now-erect penis. Oh, Sam mouthed with realization. He took John’s hard cock in his hand, following the rhythm John was moving with his.

Their lips never left each other as they both chased an orgasm for each other. John dug his fingers into Sam’s shoulder, when he felt another orgasm building.

Sam’s head collapsed against his shoulder as he came undone over John’s bare abs. “Fuck, John. Goddamn.” That was enough to send John over the edge again. He painted Sam’s stomach and pants with the white stripes of his release.

Their chests rose and fell. The sounds of their heavy breathing were the only sound in the room. John leaned against the door for support. Eyes watching Sam head to the sink to wet a few paper towels. Wordlessly, he returned and cleaned them both up. His eyes watched John cautiously while he buttoned his shirt up for him. Their lips were only inches apart again. But something about kissing outside the heat of passion felt more intimate.

John sighed. Fuck it. He closed the distance between them to give Sam a long kiss. When he pulled away Sam was smiling broadly. He nodded in understanding.

They both washed their hands and cleaned themselves up the best they could. John was grateful the elevators were right next to the bathroom when they finally walked out. They shuffled to the doors, avoiding eye contact with any and all building staff.

“They’re never gonna let you back, man,” John laughed when the elevator doors closed them in alone.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck with a satisfied grin. “Yeah, probably not.” He turned to look at John who was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the elevator. “But I don’t regret a thing.”

John inhaled. “Me either,” he agreed with a smile.

Notes:

This is the magazine cover I was thinking of by the way: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/523121312974801901/. Also I don't know if the Empire State Building has a restaurant at the top. It really should if it doesn't. Because that view?? Hello??

Comments and kudos really appreciated <3

Chapter 2

Summary:

It's John/Bucky time!

John scrolled through his messages again with a smile. He and Sam had texted late into the night and all morning. They made tentative plans to see each other again later today. But first Sam had to fly down to Baltimore for a meeting. A chill ran down John’s spine wondering whether this evening would be anything like last night.

Sam’s lips on his mouth, his neck, and his cock. John’s shorts tented at the memory. He slid a hand slowly down his chest and below his waistband. Grabbing his growing erection, he pumped himself a few times using his own slick for lubrication. He moaned remembering the feeling of Sam’s firm hand stroking him yesterday. He kept his movements slow and deliberate like Sam had. Fuck it felt good. But he wanted the real thing. He started to stroke himself harder and harder at the thought of Sam in his bed. He wanted Sam again. His body arched up as pleasure overtook him.

“Saaaam,” he cried out to the empty room, feeling the hot liquid filling his shorts. His breath came out in short bursts. Jesus. One hook up and he was already sprung. He waited for his breathing to calm down before heading to the bathroom to clean himself up. After throwing on some clean clothes, he made his way to the kitchen where Bucky was pouring over papers with a highlighter. He put them away hurriedly when he noticed John walking in the room. 

“It’s quiet out here,” John observed. He grabbed a mug to pour himself some coffee.

“Alexei and Yelena went to visit a friend in Jersey. But Ava and I are about to take Bob to get some pastries from Carlo’s.” Bucky grimaced slightly, probably thinking about the large crowds they would run into at the tourist hot spot.

“Did you want to come?” Bucky looked at him expectantly.

“Oh. Actually. I would but I—”

“—can’t. I know. I told them we should wait until after your morning run. But the line gets too long with once tourists start flooding it around 10:00.” He shrugged. “We’ll bring you back one of those double chocolate cannoli things you like so much.”

John hummed appreciatively. He realized, one—Bucky was very observant about his morning habits, and two—Bucky also knew his favorite treats. Interesting.

Bucky grabbed a dishrag and absently wiped the already-spotless countertops. When he was facing away from John he broke the silence: “So…uh, how did your date go last night?” he asked in a casual tone. John choked on the large gulp of coffee he had just taken.

“What?! What are you talking about?” Despite the hot coffee, a cold chill was spreading over his body.

Bucky laughed and turned to face him. “You expected me to believe you were all dressed up for your three-year-old? Be honest. You were trying to impress Olivia. How did it go?”

John breathed inwardly with relief, remembering his lie about getting dinner with Olivia and JJ. He put on his best smile. “Good. Great actually.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Bucky smiled. He stared at John a moment longer. There was something else in his eyes, John couldn’t name. An admiration, like he was proud of the man John was trying to be. John was starting to feel something growing in his stomach under the weight of Bucky’s stare. He chopped it up to a feeling of guilt for keeping the lie going or having sex with Bucky's frenemy.

“Well…see you later,” he muttered. He grabbed his headphones and left without turning back. He took a deep breath when he made it outside, letting his mind wander and trying to shake off the strange effect Bucky's gaze had on him.

The city that never sleeps was already lively. Yellow taxis lined the street and morning commuters filed out of subway stairs in droves. He took in the smells of pretzels and hot dogs from the vendors he passed along the sidewalk. Then his breath fell into time with the steady rhythm of his shoes against the pavement until he made it to the park.

John had never been much of a runner. But the daily routine amidst the chaos of his new life kept him sane. And more importantly, the energy release both calmed his anxiety and curbed his outbursts of anger. It was Olivia’s main reason for leaving him: his temper was “out of control” and “scared John, Jr.,” she had told the couples therapist so many times. Unfortunately, anxiety medication was practically useless due to the serum. But running his body to near overexertion every day was working. So every morning, rain or shine, he took a long run through Central Park.

He made his way around the fountain, weaving past a few other joggers. A gentle breeze cooled the sweat forming on his forehead. Then he pushed himself harder, legs pumping as if he could outrun questions he wasn’t ready to answer—about Sam, about Bucky, about his sexuality.

By the time he looped back toward the Tower, his blood was pumping and his body ached. He walked past the security in the lobby, then entered the elevator that led directly to their main floor. The kitchen and living area were empty. John smiled seeing the box of chocolate cannolis Bucky had left for him on the counter. He ate a few and chugged some water.

He was about to head to his room to freshen up when he heard the low murmur of voices coming from Bucky’s suite at the end of the long hallway. He paused wondering whether he should get closer to investigate. Bucky was such a mystery. John realized he had no idea what Bucky did when he wasn’t with them at the Tower. Or who else Bucky talked to outside of their team. Did he have family or friends he kept in touch with? Or even some hobbies? He found himself even wondering what type of music or TV he liked.

The door was ajar, and he could see through the gap without being detected. Bucky was sitting at a large table facing the floating holograms of four figures. The faint blue glow from the holograms reflected off his pale features.

John’s heart was beating loudly in his chest, feeling like he was witnessing something top secret. He edged his ear closer to the door. Just enough to catch the ongoing conversation without being seen.

“This is serious, James. Even our news has been reporting on the growing chances of a war.” John recognized the beautiful woman speaking as Shuri, the Queen of Wakanda. Her long braids wrapped around the top of her head like a crown and a flowy white dress hugged her small frame. Her eyebrows were creased with worry.

“Sounds like this Sam guy is going on a power trip. I say we come over there and take that damn shield away from him for good,” added a… raccoon?  The raccoon tapped a large gun into his paw impatiently as he talked. John blinked his eyes a few times and squinted. He must have pushed himself too hard with his run. He was definitely hallucinating a raccoon talking to Bucky.

“The shield, the suit and its technology. All made with our resources,” insisted a woman John recognized from his fight with the Dora Milaje—Ayo. She wore fitted maroon armor from neck to toe, gold neck rings, and shiny gold bracelets. Her amber eyes were narrowed with anger. “It would be wise if we took our weapons back before he uses them against you, White Wolf.”

Bucky rubbed his temples. The holograms flickered slightly, waiting for his response. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained. “I appreciate you guys. But everything is under control. He’s my…was my best friend. We’re gonna work this out. I got this.”

“Doesn’t look like you got this,” mumbled the raccoon irritably under his breath, now hoisting the gun against his shoulder. The length of the gun appeared to surpass the raccoon's height.

“Bucky,” this time a woman with radiant blue skin was speaking in a low voice. “I know you don’t want to fight him. He’s been like a brother to you. Trust me, I know what that’s like. But this is getting out of hand. We heard reports he’s gathering followers to go against you. Please. Let us help.”

“Nebula is right,” Shuri stated firmly. “Put him in his place, James. Or we will have no choice but to intervene. We will check on your progress in a week’s time.”

With a flash of light, all four holograms disappeared. John didn’t move from the doorway. His mind was racing, trying to piece it all together. What the hell was going on? And who were the other two?  From the bits and pieces he heard, it sounded like they were meeting about the growing Avengers conflict. And Bucky’s friends were offering to come fight Sam? Including the Queen of Wakanda and the leader of the Dora Milaje. This was getting serious. The scope of it overwhelmed him; this wasn’t just an argument between two old friends over naming rights, it was ballooning into something bigger. What if things escalated like the Sokovia Accords conflict? Would John have to fight Sam? He shuddered at the thought.

Bucky slumped in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. His thick, dark hair fell loosely around his face. After a few moments, he looked up and faced the door where John was still hovering uncertainly.

“How much of that did you hear?”

John hesitated, wondering if he should pretend he hadn’t heard anything.

“Enough,” he finally answered, pushing the door open. “Why were…who were…Did I see a talking raccoon?”

Bucky gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “He doesn’t like to be called that.”

John watched him for a moment, debating whether to ask any more of the twenty questions floating in his brain about what he saw. Instead, he walked over to kneel next to Bucky’s chair. Up close, he could see the dark circles forming under Bucky’s eyes and the thick hairs of a beard growing in. His eyelids looked heavy from lack of sleep. Despite the bright lighting in the room from the computer monitors lining the walls, Bucky’s eyes didn’t catch the light. There was a deep sadness behind them.

“You okay Bucky? What’s going on?”

“Just a lot on my mind. But I’m fine.”

“Wow, so you’re really not going to talk to me? You’re hunched over paperwork all day, you just had a meeting with the leaders of Wakanda and—”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Bucky cut him off sternly. “I’m handling it.” He sighed, then added in a softer tone, “I don’t want you to get involved. Any of you. Everything is gonna be fine.”

John stared at him sadly. Wishing the other man would just talk to him. He wanted to say something reassuring, but words felt inadequate compared to the gravity of the dangerous conflict.

Instead, he put a hand on Bucky’s right arm, feeling the muscles tense beneath his palm. Bucky’s lips twitched almost into a smile, and he reached over to brush his metal fingers against John’s. The air changed. John could no longer hear the distant hum of the computer monitors over his own rapid heartbeat. Their eyes met. The feeling in John’s stomach grew. He could recognize it for what it was now: arousal.

John held his breath as the silence stretched. Bucky’s hand lingered on John’s, cool metal and warm skin probing each other’s fingers tentatively.

Without thinking, John inched forward, searching Bucky’s face for uneasiness. But instead, he saw only the same arousal reflected in his own eyes. Bucky’s pupils were wide, the blue irises almost completely black. Something gentle passed across Bucky’s expression, and John found himself drawn closer. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure the other man could hear it. Bucky leaned in to kiss him. Their lips met briefly before John pulled away suddenly.

Bucky: “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

John: “I wasn’t expecting—”

Bucky: “No you go—”

John raised his eyes to meet Bucky’s. “I didn’t hate it,” he joked. Bucky nodded and kissed him again. This time he grabbed John’s face roughly, pulling their bodies even closer together. His kisses were intense, like everything he does. John stood up realizing kneeling wasn’t the most comfortable. Bucky followed him to his feet, again capturing his lips. His hands grabbed John’s neck, pulling John’s body towards him as he led him through the door that connected his bedroom. Their mouths continued searching each other as clothes fell to the floor. Bucky was rough—kissing, biting, sucking all over his neck and shoulders. It wasn’t what he was used to, but he had to admit, it was hot being handled this way.

The kiss deepened as they collapsed onto the bed. John held on to Bucky’s hips, steadying him and pulling him closer until there was nothing between them but their hard cocks rubbing together. Bucky’s hands—one cool, one warm—gripped John’s face, holding their foreheads together even when they broke apart for air.

Bucky straddled John, then took both of their hard cocks in the cool metal of his hand. John shivered at the sudden temperature change on his hot length but relaxed into it. The cool sensation was a unique but welcome stimulation. It made John wonder how Bucky’s hands would feel all over his body and in his mouth.

“Shit,” he groaned when Bucky started to stroke them both. It was awkward and uncomfortable at first, until Bucky found a rhythm. Their cocks dripped with precum, adding slickness to the friction of his hand and cock against John’s own throbbing erection. Bucky continued biting and kissing his lips hungrily as he started to stroke them both faster. His scratchy beard was a sharp contrast with the texture of his soft lips. 

Bucky was a silent lover. Only his heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat gave any indication that he was even enjoying this. He didn’t moan, or talk, or even look John in the eyes. Not like Sam. Shit. Don’t think about Sam right now.

John traced Bucky’s sharp jawline with his mouth, eventually finding Bucky’s neck and his frenzied heartbeat. He nibbled the skin there tentatively. Bucky inhaled sharply and froze completely, even his hand stopped moving. John pulled away and looked into his eyes. Wondering if he had crossed a line?

“I wasn’t…I’m not used to…” Bucky’s words trailed off. He exhaled then looked at John with a playful twinkle in his eyes, “I didn’t hate it.”

John chuckled softly. He waited until Bucky lowered his head so his neck was at John’s lips again. He took it slower this time. Softly rubbing his lips against the skin there, then kissing it until he felt Bucky’s shoulders relax. Bucky’s flesh hand gripped John’s stomach, anchoring himself in the feeling of John’s touch. John nibbled at Bucky’s soft skin again then licked wet lines across Bucky’s neck and shoulders.

Bucky let out the breath he was holding with a soft moan that sent a pulse of arousal through John’s body. He wanted to be the reason Bucky made that sweet sound again. Bucky started pumping their cocks again. The mounting pleasure was turning John needy. His nibbles turned into biting, his kisses turned into sucking. Bucky’s hand gripped his waist harder.

He continued pumping them with urgency until they both came—Bucky with a muffled grunt and John with a loud groan. Bucky rolled over and stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He silently passed John a tissue from his nightstand to clean himself up. John sighed. Feeling the post-hook up awkwardness start to set in. You should leave, he told himself. But the physical exhaustion of the morning was finally catching up to him. Against his will, his eyelids kept closing. Reluctantly, he gave in, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

He slept soundly for about an hour until he woke up to movement next to him. Bucky was twitching and mumbling in his sleep. His face was twisted in pain. “No, no, no,” Bucky murmured.

“Bucky?” John said in a low voice, not wanting to startle him from his sleep. Bucky continued murmuring, “No, please. I don’t want to hurt anyone…” His pained voice almost sounded like a whine for help. When his head started to thrash violently from side to side, John knew he had no choice but to wake him up.

He placed his hand on Bucky’s bare chest. Bucky snapped awake at the contact. He sat up and took in his surroundings, a confused look on his face.

“Hey,” John whispered. “It’s John. You had a bad dream. You’re here in New York. We live in the Watch Tower with Alexei, Ava, Bob, and Yelena.” Bucky turned to John, recognition filling his face. He nodded in understanding. His chest heaved up and down.

“Where…where did you go?” John asked curiously. Bucky fell back on the bed.

“I was the Winter Soldier again…” His hands rested palms up on his forehead and he stared at the ceiling with watery blue eyes. “Sometimes I relive old memories in these dreams…At least I think they’re memories. I don’t know what’s real or fake. But it’s always me…Always hurting people,” Bucky explained sadly. John felt a pang in his stomach. The raw pain in Bucky’s voice made John’s eyes water. The man had been through decades of trauma that still haunted him when he was simply trying to rest. John reached out and gently placed a hand over Bucky’s, feeling the slight tremor beneath his palm.

“That’s not who you are anymore, Bucky. This version of you is in control. And this version of you goes to nail appointments with Ava because you know she gets anxious around people, and listens to Alexei’s endless Red Guardian stories even though you know he’s making most of that shit up, and takes Bob to see movies you know you’ll hate just to make sure he gets out every now then, and lets Yelena think she can beat us at Poker, and thinks to bring me my favorite pastries…” John let his voice trail off. He felt like he was talking too much.

Bucky turned to look at him with a smile. A genuine smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes.

“Thanks, John.” They sat in silence for a few more moments, Bucky still staring at him with gratitude. John knew Bucky rarely opened up to anyone. And he was a man of few words. This conversation felt strangely intimate. In a way that he wasn’t ready for.

“I should…uh…I need a shower,” John said suddenly. He hopped out of bed and snuck out of Bucky’s room without looking back. He was thankful not to run into anyone else on the journey back to his room. Especially not Yelena. He didn’t know how to explain what had just happened to himself, let alone a former spy. His spent the rest of the afternoon in his room reading, and definitely not thinking about Bucky.

Hours later, the Tower was once again filled with arguing voices and laughter. Ava and Bob cooked a black bean lasagna, packing the kitchen with the comforting aroma of garlic and Italian spices. Then they all gathered round for an impromptu “Family Game Night,” as Alexei had once named it. John noticed Bucky staring at him every now and then. His eyes, usually an icy blue, seemed much brighter, almost sparkling under the soft glow of the living room lamps. His warm smile brightened the room, making John’s own chest feel strangely light as he wondered if he had anything to do with putting that gorgeous smile on Bucky’s face.

John found himself, more often than not, meeting Bucky’s gaze across the room. Each time their eyes locked, a jolt, like a tiny electric current shot through his stomach and a blush colored his cheeks. He would quickly look the other way or focus on the huge pile of snacks on the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he would catch Bucky doing the same – a quick glance in the other direction and a blush that was only slightly hidden by the dim living room lighting. At around 7:00, Alexei and Bob reminded Bucky they had tickets to go see Rogers: The Musical that evening and they all needed to start getting ready.

“We don’t want to miss the previews!” Alexei called out as he cleaned up the last of the snack bowls. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“There are no previews. This is a play,” he said with exasperation. John laughed and headed to his room, leaving the sound of their voices behind. He closed his bedroom door behind him, leaning for a moment against the cool metal, letting the hum of laughter and music fade into the distance.

He paced his room, restless energy unwilling to let him settle. There were too many thoughts racing in his mind. For a while, he scrolled through his phone reading news articles about the Avengers Cold War. “Insiders” and “anonymous sources” were predicting a deadly fight would break out any day. He threw his phone and turned to stare out at the city lights beyond his glass doors.

But his thoughts kept turning back to Bucky—flinching then easing into his touch, the look of despair when he talked about his recurring bad dreams, and then his relaxed smile that evening at game night. It was strange—the two men who once hated each other and now Bucky had shown him a vulnerable part of himself that he usually kept hidden behind scowls and silence. Eventually, he wandered over to the double doors leading to his balcony, opening them just enough to let the cool evening air in. Sounds of distant honks from traffic below and helicopters in the distance flooded his room.

He frowned when he noticed a red drone approaching him from above. He leaned over the balcony to peer closer, recognizing the object as Red Wing. What was it doing here? The object beeped as it got closer. Then a gust of wind blew through his hair as a man with wings flew above him, before landing gently next to him on the balcony.

John’s mouth fell open.

“Sam?”

Chapter 3

“Hey!” Sam greeted John like this was a normal place for them to meet. Then he walked through the open doors and took off his wings, setting them down with his shield.

“Wha—what are you doing here?” John followed him inside, dumbfounded.

“I wanted to see you,” Sam replied with a wink. John felt a warmth spreading in his chest.

“You flew all the way to Baltimore and back? That’s like…five hours of flying today?”

Sam shrugged and fell to the floor to take off his boots. He seemed to be settling comfortably into the space as though he had done so a hundred times before. John hovered awkwardly, searching Sam’s face for signs of exhaustion, but found only an easy confidence and an air of excitement.

“Let me get you something to eat. You look like you could use it.” He blushed with embarrassment feeling himself going into caregiver mode. But Sam gave him an appreciative smile as he unfastened the last pieces of his gear.

“Cool if I use your shower?”

John nodded quickly, trying not to think of Sam naked in his bathroom. He inhaled to calm his nerves as he headed for the kitchen, glancing back at Sam who was now removing his suit. He let the door swing closed behind him. Of all the nights for a surprise visit...Thankfully three of the roommates would be leaving soon. And Ava’s introversion would keep her in her room recharging from game night until at least tomorrow morning. It was only Yelena he had to worry about.

The kitchen felt oddly empty without the usual chaos of the rest of the team. John opened the fridge, scanning for something decent to put together for Sam. He shot paranoid glances over his shoulder, half expecting someone else to burst through the door and make a joke about his limitless appetite. But the hum of the refrigerator and the clatter of dishes he put on the counter were the only sounds he heard.

Just as John was forking pasta onto a plate, he heard soft footsteps in the hallway. He tensed, listening to see if he could distinguish whose steps they were. Then the floorboard near the kitchen creaked—a sure sign that he wasn’t alone. Yelena. She peered into the kitchen and smiled when she saw him.

“I’m just grabbing my charger back from you!” She called out as she walked towards his closed door. John felt his stomach knot with nerves.

“NO!”

Yelena froze in place with her hand on the door handle. She looked at the approaching super soldier with a confused face.

“Umm…my room is messy,” John explained in a calmer tone. Yelena raised her eyebrows.

“Messy?” She angled her head behind him at the plate of food and two large bottles of water. “What are you hiding John Walker?”

John sighed. “Fine, I have a guest okay. I’m grabbing them some food and water.” He walked back toward the kitchen to finish warming the leftovers.

“Oh fun! Do they have a name?” Yelena followed him to the kitchen. A huge smile on her face.

John knew the more he tried to hide, the more persistent she would get. He looked around the empty room before answering in a hushed whisper, “Sam.”

Yelena furrowed her brow. “Sam? I don’t know any Sam. Except…” Her mouth dropped open. What? she mouthed.

“I know, I know. It’s complicated. And a long story.” He rummaged through the drawers for their nice silverware. Yelena narrowed her eyes at the meal he was prepping then rolled her eyes.

“Captain America is in your room and you’re giving him bottles of still water? You’re so lucky I’m here to help.” She grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge, tucked a bottle of red wine under her arm, and held two wine glasses in her other hand. John stared at her with slight annoyance. He decided it was better to just let her come to his room rather than argue and risk another roommate walking in the kitchen.

He walked back toward his room with the plate of food and bottles of water in his hand. He sucked in a deep breath at his door before pushing it open.

The bathroom door was closed. John could hear the sound of the shower running and Sam humming “I Heard it Through the Grapevine.” His suit, shield, and wings were on the floor near the glass doors. Red Wing whirred on the floor but didn’t move. Yelena quickly got to work organizing the glasses and bottles like a restaurant-style place setting on the table near the couch.

“Okay, give me the corkscrew,” she said holding out her hand when she was done arranging the food and drinks.

“What? You were the one who grabbed wine! Why didn’t you get a corkscrew?” John hissed. Yelena rolled her eyes.

“I can’t think of everything John Walker! This is your date night.”

“Fine!” John huffed. He left to go find a bottle opener. He had finally found it in the sixth drawer he opened when Bucky appeared next to him. John nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Bucky smiled. “I just wanted…to thank you for earlier.”

John nodded, trying to remember earlier. They had hooked up. Shit. And then Bucky had a bad dream. That's right.

“Do you…um, get nightmares often?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “More often since the Void.”

John frowned. Realizing just how much Bucky was dealing with: recurring nightmares, public backlash after resigning from Congress, and the fight over the Avengers name. It was a lot. They stared at each other for a few moments while John tried to think of something to say. He was grateful Bucky was sharing at least some of what he was going through with him. But his heart broke thinking about Bucky enduring all his struggles alone.

“Bucky! Time to go!” Bob and Alexei appeared. They grabbed Bucky by either arm and ushered him to the elevator doors, loudly singing the words to “Save the City.”  Bucky feigned annoyance but his amused smile said otherwise.

“Have fun!” John called after them. He rushed back to his room realizing he had left Yelena alone for way too long. When he walked in, he saw her kneeling down in front of the shield, touching it cautiously.

“What took you so long?” she asked without looking away from the circle of metal.

“I ran into Bucky.”

Yelena turned to tease him but saw his eyes focused on the shield. Sometimes when he looked at it he could still hear Nico begging for mercy with his hands up…and the sound of the shield cracking Nico’s ribs…and see the shield covered in blood, so much blood. He closed his eyes, trying to ground himself. You’re in your room, you’re safe, Yelena is here, you’re okay.

“Hey…Don’t forget,” Yelena’s soft voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. “The Avengers got praised for doing what you did. Steve killed hundreds of people with that shield.”

John nodded, watery eyes still focused on the shield. Yelena walked over to him and wrapped him in a warm hug. He let Yelena’s words settle in his mind. She had given him this reassurance so many times before, but he still couldn’t forgive himself. He had grown up idolizing Captain America. Wanting to be just like him. And when he got that chance, it all fell apart so fast, eventually tumbling into his personal life which also crumbled so quickly. He took a deep breath, the ghost of guilt lingering but edged out in this moment by the physical feeling of Yelena’s support. Just then they heard the bathroom door creak open. John’s heart pounded with anticipation and nerves.

“Oh hiiiiii,” Yelena said in a sing-song voice.

“Hey, I thought I heard voices.” Sam stood in the doorway with no shirt and John’s sweatpants hanging loosely off his waist. Yelena looked him up and down, humming with approval.

“Oh damn. Your boyfriend is HOT, John Walker. I get why you’re risking it all for him. I’d turn straight for a man like that.” She winked at them both and headed for the door. “Have a good evening boys,” she teased.

Sam laughed, then took in the food and wine on the table.

“Wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special,” he mused. John chuckled and joined him on the couch. He was happy to find that their conversation was easy again. It felt like catching up with an old friend. They talked for what felt like hours—about growing up in the South, about their families, and when the conversation strayed to any of the recent drama, then back to lighter topics like football. The space between them was shrinking the longer they talked. Knees brushing, hands finding each other, and fingers interlaced.

When there was a lull in the conversation, John stared into the other man’s eyes. Feeling that electric shock pulse through his system again. He grinned at Sam, pulling him up from his seat and towards his bed. Sam’s hands found his waist as their lips finally met.

They tumbled toward the bed in a tangle of limbs. John kissed Sam, guiding him to lay flat on his back. When John was finally straddling him, he leaned back to admire his beauty. He couldn’t believe Sam was in his bed. All he wanted was to taste him, everywhere. Desperately needing this to feel real. He kissed Sam's lips, then tugged on both of his earlobes with this teeth, relishing in the sharp intakes of breath he heard. Then moved down to his neck, tongue and teeth massaging the skin. Then down to his chest, rubbing a nipple with one hand while his tongue circled the other. 

John alternated tongue and fingers until Sam's nipples were pointy, blowing them softly to watch Sam’s shivered response. His mouth moved lower, pausing at the space where pelvis meets waist line.

“You don’t have to…” Sam breathed.

“I want to,” John said simply. He pulled Sam’s pants off him completely. There was something sexy about knowing Sam had been wearing his pants.

Sam’s thick cock freed itself in front of his face. John took it in hungrily. Licking the base, licking the tip, then taking it in his mouth completely. He sucked it slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm and avoid teeth. He sucked in his cheeks in tune with the pace his head was moving, encouraged by Sam’s increasing breaths.

“Fuck John. This is…god its so good, baby”. Sam’s hips tried to twist up. But John held his waist down with one hand, using his other to stroke the base of Sam’s length.

Sam’s hands were in his hair, tugging and rubbing. He felt his cheek muscles aching, but knew he wouldn’t stop no matter how long it took. His hand moved from Sam's cock to his own. He was already so close. Every quiver in Sam's legs or soft moan pushed him closer to the edge.

“Baby…I’m gonna…come…you should…move.” Sam panted. But John didn’t. He wanted to know what Sam tasted like. He kept up his pace until he felt Sam’s cock twitch in his mouth. Warm, salty liquid filled his mouth. John’s eyes met Sam’s as he swallowed. His release followed shortly after, his eyes rolling back in his head with pleasure.

“Damn. That was so sexy, baby.”

They laid together after. Both trying to catch their breaths, and Sam running his fingers through John’s head on his chest.

“How was Baltimore? Did you go see Isaiah?”

Sam paused, deciding how much to share. “Not exactly. I went to talk to his grandson, Eli. He’s a special kid. Kind of reminds me of a young Colonel Rhodes actually.”

“Did Joaquin go with you?”

“No…He…had to talk to someone in Queens... Enough about me. How do you like living here?” The long pauses suggested he was keeping the crucial details to himself. But John didn’t pry. After all he had his own secrets.

Instead, he entertained Sam with stories about his roommates…The ones not named Bucky anyway. Sam chuckled hearing about Alexei's karaoke obsession and smiled at the image of Ava vacuuming while invisible.

“You would like them,” John said finally. When he didn’t get a response he looked up. Sam was fast asleep. He smiled.

“Good night, Sam.” He kissed Sam’s forehead, before relaxing into the pillow next to him. He dreamt of murderous raccoons and holographic corkscrews. He wasn’t sure how long they had been sleeping but woke up to the sound of an insistent vibration. The sky was now pitch black. The lights in many of the buildings he could see from the window had darkened.

“Sam…Sam? I think it’s your phone.”

“Ughh who is it?”

John grabbed the phone from the nightstand next to his side of the bed. The screen brightened with several missed texts and calls.

“Oh shit. Joaquin says there’s an apartment fire in Brooklyn. They need you to do search and rescue on the top floors…Um he said someone named Peter is already there?”

Sam sat up wide awake. He took the phone from John’s outstretched hand and recorded a voice message: “I’m on my way, Red Wing will be there before me. He can do a scan of the building to see how many people are inside.”

John watched him hurriedly pull on the suit and attach his wings. His face wore a serious expression.

“I’m glad you came by,” John said.

“Me too.” Sam gave him a quick kiss goodbye, then he was gone.

 

*****

 

John awoke to sunlight streaming in his face. The dishes on the table were the only reminder of the night. Heading out to the kitchen, he saw Bucky sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. Valentina’s voice echoed in the large space from Bucky’s phone.

“What the hell are you guys doing?! Don’t you care about your image? Sam Wilson and his friends saved babies and puppies from a fire this morning. And their team is getting bigger! There’s a spider guy now!”

“Yeah I read about that,” Bucky said in a bored tone. He sounded and looked exhausted.

“Well, where were you? Don’t you have a police scanner? You need to be out there acting like heroes too. I swear to God if I have to start a fire myself to get the New Avengers some good publicity…”

“Alright. Well thanks for checking in. I have to go now.” Bucky hung up abruptly and laid his head on the table. Behind him on the TV, a news station was showing grainy cell phone footage of a guy in a spider suit handing Falcon and Captain America pets and people from the smoky upper floors of an apartment building. Valentina’s tirade still echoed in the back of his mind, the reminder of everything they weren’t doing, at least not in the right way. Bucky didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared at his phone as if Valentina might spring out from the screen.

John grabbed a mug of coffee and fired off a text to Sam:

I saw you on TV. Your ass looks incredible in that suit

 

Sam replied almost immediately:

I almost spit my drink out in this meeting! What the hell man

 

John laughed to himself and tapped another message:

Are you good though? You didn't inhale too much smoke?

 

Sam:

I' m not sure. I might need some mouth to mouth later 😜

 

John could feel the goofy smile on his face. When he looked up, he saw Bucky was watching him curiously. Slowly, he straightened his face and hid behind his mug. His grip tightened on the handle, feeling a cold chill flow through him under Bucky's puzzled gaze. He felt an immediate need to fill the silence.

"You're welcome to join me on my run. I'm not sure if you can keep up though." He tried to inject a casual, challenging tone to his voice.

Bucky seemed to be mulling over the offer. His raised eyebrows relaxed into an amused expression. "Alright, you're on," he answered finally. 

They laced up their shoes and made their way outside. Asphalt turned to gravel, then eventually to grass as they made their way to Central Park. Valentina’s words fell further behind them with every step. John could almost believe they were just two guys running in the park, and not superheroes destined to live under the shadows of Sam and his friends.

Bucky set a brisk pace, but John matched him, determined not to let himself get outrun by a 108-year-old man. When he darted ahead, John followed, motivated by the challenge. Bucky ran backwards ahead of him with a toothy grin. “Keep up!” His voice was light, almost teasing, and John found himself falling into a lighter mood. Was Bucky actually flirting?

The flat path turned hilly, and Bucky disappeared in the distance. Eventually he found Bucky leaning up against a wall under a pedestrian bridge. His hat was low on his head but still showed his sparkling blue eyes.

“You’re pretty fast for an old man,” John panted when he finally caught up to him. Bucky laughed. A hearty laugh that made his shoulders rise and fall. In a quick movement, he pulled John towards him by the waist, kissing with intensity and desperation. John grabbed his hips, not wanting to lose the connection either. He imagined Bucky coming apart completely under his touch. John’s cock sprung awake thinking about Bucky calling out his name.

A bike’s bell ringing in the distance reminded them they were in public. They broke away from each other quickly. Lips reddened and cheeks flushed.

“What do you say we stop by that bakery for cannolis?” Bucky suggested. Acting as if he hadn't just kissed John into oblivion. John nodded, adjusting his uncomfortably tight shorts. The other man looked down and smiled realizing his dilemma. John’s thoughts raced. The feeling of Bucky’s lips like hot fire against his own muddled with the guilt about his feelings for Sam.

When they finally returned home, they had bags of pastries and a few cups of hot drinks for the others which they left in the kitchen. John started toward his room, focused on a shower to scrub away the sweat and guilt. He was still sorting out his thoughts about Sam and Bucky. But the universe—or rather his nosy roommate had other plans.

“Oh hey John Walker,” Yelena greeted him with a fake cheery voice. John frowned at the tiny blonde who was stretched out on his couch. He was too exhausted to deal with her games today.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Yes actually,” she said as she closed her book and turned to face him with a glare. “You can explain what the hell is going on with you and Bucky? I saw the looks you were giving each other at game night. And now all of a sudden you have running dates?”

John opened his mouth to answer, but couldn’t think of a good explanation. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.

“We sort of…hooked up,” he admitted finally.

“And you have your nerve to bring Sam here? End it with him! You can’t do this to Bucky. He’s in a fragile enough state as it is without your bullshit.”

“I know—”

“And what about STIs? Aren’t you concerned?!”

“Well, actually with the serum—”

“END IT WITH HIM!”

“Okay, okay,” John answered in a hushed voice. He hoped it would get Yelena to match his tone and quiet down. “I’ll end things with Sam.”

“When?” she insisted.

“Tonight. I’ll do it tonight.”

Yelena paused. Taking in his words. She shook her head. “If you hurt Bucky, I will hurt you.”

“I understand that Lena. I’m going to make it right.”

He pulled out his phone and quickly typed a message to Sam. His thumb hovered over the screen for a second before he pressed send:

We need to talk. Can you meet tonight?

“There I did it. Can I have my room back now?” John turned to the bathroom without seeing if she had left. The message was sent, and with it, a knot of regret twisted in his stomach. He was really starting to like Sam. If this were another time and under different circumstances, he wondered if they could make a relationship work. Conversation with Sam was so easy. And they had so much in common with their upbringing and military service. Both of them had even lost their partners in battle. And he couldn’t deny their sexual chemistry was more intense than anything he had ever experienced. He showered, letting the hot water blur his thoughts, rehearsing what he would say. By the time he stepped out, Sam's response was waiting.

Yeah. Come to my hotel.

Sam followed up with an address to place on East 42nd Street and instructions to enter through the back exit to avoid paparazzi. So John put on the least impressive T-shirt and shorts he could find. This time he wasn't trying to impress Sam. Just break things off with him and come home. Luckily, he was able to escape the Tower without running into anyone. He stepped out into the cool air. The tall buildings reflected a serene image of the setting sun.

John’s watch buzzed with a vibration. He looked to see a message from Yelena:

If he opens the door without a shirt, close your eyes and run outta there as fast as you can

John laughed. He weaved through streets until he found the back exit Sam mentioned. It was through a poorly lit alley. A guard nodded at him and opened the door. He took the freight elevator to Sam’s floor and made his way to a suite at the end of the hall. He had barely started knocking when Sam opened the door. Thankfully with a shirt. A purple LSU sweatshirt and matching purple shorts hugging his muscular figure in all the right places.

“Hey,” his eyes lit up when he saw John. “Good to see you again. Come in.”

Sam stepped aside, letting John in. He looked around the large suite. There were a few open suitcases on the floor and clothes and papers thrown around haphazardly. But the table near the window was beautifully decorated with candles, several plates of food, and a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice.

“I wanted to repay the favor,” Sam said shyly.

John realized he hadn’t eaten much today. He was suddenly starving.

“Thanks. This is…nice.” John tried not to let his nerves show as he busied himself with removing lids from platters of food.

“So,” Sam said, voice deliberate but gentle. “What’s up? You said we need to talk?”

John let out a breath. “Yeah...How long are you in town for?”

Sam shrugged. “I’m not really sure. It depends on how things go I guess.”

John looked at him pointedly. “You’re recruiting team members aren’t you?”

Sam sighed. “It’s not that simple. But yes. We’re making connections with people. Just making sure we’re all in the know about each other…in case we need to work together.”

“Hmmmm,” John was partially satisfied with that answer. But that wasn’t what he came here to talk about.

“Listen, we need to talk. It’s…it’s about Bucky…He’s…I…We kind of—" John’s voice trailed off under the stare of Sam’s soft brown eyes. “It’s just… I care about Bucky. And this… this feels like I’m betraying him.”

Sam nodded. “I get it. He’s your friend. And he’s mine too. We just aren’t seeing eye to eye right now. It doesn’t mean you and I have to be enemies.”

“No, I know. I just…I don’t want to hurt Bucky…everything is so complicated.”

“It is. And we can figure it out together. And we can tell people when we’re ready. But...I really like you John. You mean so much more than all the bullshit surrounding us. I really want to see where this goes.”

John’s heart fluttered. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt the same way. He knew he was falling for Sam. Hard. He couldn’t imagine letting him go. Unfortunately, that meant he would need to set boundaries with Bucky and eventually let him know he was seeing Sam.

“Hey baby,” Sam suddenly appeared in front of his face. “What are you thinking about?”

John jumped, startled, a flush creeping up his neck. He’d been so lost in the spirals of his own thoughts that he hadn’t notice Sam moving closer. He blinked, refocusing on the man in front of him.

“Just… everything,” John managed, trying to sound nonchalant, but his voice was a little rougher than he intended. He gestured vaguely around the room. "This whole… situation. Us. Bucky." He bit his lip, immediately regretting bringing Bucky up again.

Sam’s smile softened further, a knowing glint in his eyes. He reached out, his fingers brushing against John’s arm, a quick, comforting caress that sent shivers down John’s spine. “It’s a lot, I know,” he said, his voice a low, soothing murmur. “But like I said, we’ll figure it out. Together.” He leaned in, his breath warm against John’s cheek.

John felt a renewed wave of heat spread through him, his own hand reaching out to intertwine with Sam’s. Sam squeezed his hand allowing his thumb to gently stroke the back of John’s hand.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, grateful kiss to Sam’s lips. Sam returned the kiss with urgency. He moved to sit in John’s lap, steadying himself by holding the back of the chair. They broke apart only to remove their shirts. John’s hands held Sam steady by his back...but found his hands slowly moving lower until he was gripping Sam’s taut ass.

Sam lifted his thighs to give John space to remove his shorts. He rubbed their cocks together, then got on his knees and looked up at John hungrily. John’s breath hitched. Sam swallowed his leaking cock whole in one movement eliciting a loud moan from John. He sucked him until he was spilling all over Sam’s tongue. Then moved back in John's lap to kiss him until he was hard again. John lifted him by his thighs and dropped him on the bed. 

Sam reached for lube in the nightstand by the bed. He lathered it over his pulsing cock then lined himself up in front of John. He threaded his length in the space between John's thighs, the wet tip of his cock rubbing against John's balls. 

John moaned loudly. He took himself in his hand and stroked along with the movement. Soon they were both coming undone. Collapsing together in a wet mess of limbs and sheets. By the time his breathing returned to normal, John felt at peace. He had made his decision. He wanted Sam.

Chapter 4

Notes:

Poor Murdock has no idea what he was getting into!

Sam looked so at peace in his sleep. John admired the soft morning light shining through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow on Sam’s face. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on Sam’s lips, as if he dreamed of something pleasant. His eyes suddenly opened.

“I swear staring is a side effect of the serum,” he mumbled. John chuckled and rubbed his smooth skin. Sam took John’s hand and gave it a kiss.

“You sleep okay?”

John nodded, still watching Sam curiously.

“What’s on your mind?”

John swallowed. He had been thinking about it since last night when Sam told him how he felt. Sex with him was incredible, but he wanted more.

“I want to try…I want to feel you inside me, Sam.”

Sam shuffled until he was resting on his elbow, his head leaning on one hand and the other stroking John’s face.

“You’re sure?”

“100% certain,” John responded without hesitation. Sam nodded.

“Okay…okay…Then we’ll do it—” John felt arousal building, his cock twitched excitedly—“But I have a busy morning. And I don’t want to rush our first time. We need to go slow…do it right…”

John felt disappointment spread on his face.

Sam laughed. “I can give you a preview now if you want.” His eyes were dark with arousal. John licked his lips, nodding hungrily.

Sam reached over to the nightstand for the lube. Coating his middle finger in the clear liquid, he watched John curiously as he straddled him.

“I can stop whenever you want, baby,” he promised. His voice still hoarse from sleep. John raised his hips up in anticipation.

John felt the cold, wet finger rubbing circles at his entrance. He let out a deep breath, willing himself to unclench his muscles. He was ready for Sam to open him up. But Sam just kept teasing his hole. John’s eyes flashed open. Sam was staring at him intently, watching his every expression.

“I need your eyes open, baby. I want to know if you’re okay.”

John hummed at the sweet nickname. He felt Sam’s finger slowly entering his tight heat. It felt like a slightly uncomfortable pressure slowly filling him up. Sam moved in deeper and deeper until…Fuck. John’s legs shook with pleasure. Sam’s finger had reached the sensitive nerve endings on his prostate.

“Oh babe,” John moaned. He wiggled his hips, wanting to feel the touch against the sensitive area again. Sam smiled. He started to move his finger in and out, then circular motions against the sweet spot. It wasn’t enough. John needed more.

“Mmmmm. Sam…I’m ready for another.”

Sam added another finger, still watching John for any discomfort. Then added one more. John felt Sam’s fingers going in and out, in and out. He rocked his hips with the rhythm, keeping his eyes on Sam the whole time.

“So fucking good Sam,” he breathed. Sam increased the speed of his finger thrusts. John shivered imagining Sam’s cock instead. Fuck. He wanted him so bad. He was so gone over this man.

Sam moved to lay on top of him, kissing his neck, sucking his lips, and biting his ear lobe. Still keeping the rhythm of his fingers. He brought his other hand to John’s throbbing cock and began to stroke in time with the movements of his fingers. His tongue simultaneously explored inside John’s ear. John felt his body shaking as his orgasm grew. Sam was pleasing him on so many levels and he couldn’t hold back anymore. With a jolt and loud moan he came, white hot release erupting on Sam’s hand.

John struggled to catch his breath. His chest was heaving and for some reason, he felt emotional. Tears fell from his eyes. He tried to wipe them away before Sam could see, but they kept coming.

“Oh shit,” the smile fell from Sam’s face. “I need to wash my hands, but I’m coming right back.” He raced to the bathroom, returning a minute later with a wet cloth to wipe John’s stomach. Then used his hands to softly wipe away the tears still flowing from John’s eyes. But he didn’t speak. He waited until John was ready to talk.

“It’s just…I was raised as a southern Christian boy…and I’ve never…Um…this is just new to me.”

“Yeah, Black gay man from the Deep South. I hear you, baby.” Sam held him tightly, running fingers through his hair.

“Is it your voice in your head telling you this is wrong? Or someone else’s?” He asked.

“My father’s voice probably. I’m a preacher’s kid,” John recounted grimly.

“Hmmm. Well, you get to decide who you want to be, baby. And you don’t have to have it figured out right now. Or label yourself as anything. Just follow what makes you happy.”

John nodded, pushing his father’s voice to the back of his mind. They kissed, long and soft. John pulled back slightly to look into Sam’s eyes.

“It’s been a lot of firsts for me. I’m really glad it’s been with you, babe,” John admitted softly. Sam held John in his arms for a few more minutes. Then looked at his watch again.

“I have to head out soon. But I’m not kicking you out, you can stay as long as you want. We can get some food when I’m done. Shouldn’t be more than a few hours,” Sam insisted hopping out of bed. He paused and looked at John. “But if you want me to stay, I will. I don’t mind cancelling everything.”

John smiled appreciatively. “Thank you. But I should head back. And I can see you when you’re done.”

“Are you sure? Do you need anything?”

“A shower.”

Sam laughed, taking his hand in his. “That I can help with.”

They lathered and cleaned each other up. Taking turns kissing or jerking each other off under the hot stream of water.

Twenty minutes later, John was dressed. He looked up from tying his shoes to see Sam walking out of the bathroom in his suit with the shield hanging loosely from his hips. He tilted his head in confusion.

“We have to be in Hell’s Kitchen in 45 minutes,” Sam explained. “A car wouldn’t get us there on time in traffic. So Joaquin and I are flying.” He walked over and gave John another kiss. “See you later though?”

“Definitely,” John promised. He stood mesmerized for a moment watching Sam open the doors to the balcony and spread his wings, taking off. His blue and white wings a sharp contrast to the gray skyscrapers.

John jogged back to the Tower. His casual outfit and wet hair made it look like he had just been on his morning jog if anyone asked. Technically he had just jogged here so not exactly a lie. When the elevators opened he was met with the sound of angry voices, talking over each other.

Alexei, Bob, and Ava were sitting on the couch in the living room. Bucky was standing in front of them holding a piece of paper.

“What’s going on?” John asked.

Bucky passed him the piece of paper:

You are hereby ordered to appear at Nelson and Murdock Attorneys at Law, 797 9th Avenue New York, NY 10019 for the matter of Samuel T. Wilson v. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine & James B. Barnes at 10:00

John frowned. “What the hell is this? When did you get this?”

“It came a couple months ago. Things with Sam’s lawsuit haven’t been going well,” Bucky sighed. “I didn’t want to worry you guys. I’ve been trying to manage it, but they aren’t backing down. I thought we would have things figured out before this bullshit.”

John’s jaw dropped. This was the meeting Sam was heading to?

“I know it’s not ideal,” Bucky was saying. “But the more of us who attend, the more we can show we have support for our position. Sam can’t just walk all over us. This isn’t his decision to make. Valentina understands she’s a sore spot for all of us, so she’s agreed not to come.”

“What a stupid, stupid litigious man,” Alexei mumbled. This got everyone going again—hurling around insults about Sam or criticizing Bucky for hiding the truth from them for so long.

Shit. John backed slowly out of the room, hoping not to be noticed. He reached behind him for the door knob, pushing open the door of his room. Once he was safely inside he leaned against the closed door, taking deep soothing breaths. His heart was pumping out of his chest.

“Uhhhh what the hell are you doing?” a voice asked. John’s eyes shot open. His eyes took in the room. The bed was on the right side of the room instead of the left, the curtains were a flowy white instead of a midnight blue, and Yelena was sitting on the couch in front of the window. Her pencil hovered above her sketch book.

“This isn’t my room.”

“No shit.” She looked at him with amusement and curiosity. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

"What the hell is happening?" He thought out loud.

"I could ask you the same question. You didn't end it with Sam did you?"

John opened his mouth to respond but Bucky's voice called through the door: "The driver is almost here. We're heading out in five."

Yelena gave him a look that promised they would continue this conversation later. He went to his actual room this time to pull on some khakis and a nice button-up shirt.

They all piled into a black SUV: Bucky in the front next to a cranky driver, John and Yelena in the middle row, and the others in the back seat.

“Why didn’t we just take the train?” Ava asked after they had been stuck in an intersection for five minutes.

“New Yorkers tend to throw tomatoes at me, so I figured this was better,” Bucky grumbled.

“Oh. Good call,” Bob agreed. “I’m allergic to tomatoes. That wouldn’t have been fun.”

“Allergies are nonsense!” Alexei exclaimed. “My parents taught me if you eat enough of the thing, your body learns to love it!”

“Then explain why you broke out in hives at the sushi place the other night?” Ava countered with an eyeroll.

“Yes, but did I die?” Alexei raised his finger like he had made a good point. They continued arguing back and forth. John drowned out the voices in the back seat, turning his attention to the man in the front. He felt so much empathy for Bucky. He was like a man lost in time. He was living in a time period that wasn’t his, didn’t have family, and recently lost so many of his friends. Resigning from Congress was the icing on his black cake of despair.

Ouch. A sharp elbow poked his side. You’re staring, Yelena mouthed. He rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his phone. He was still holding out hope Sam would send him a message to explain what was going on.

The others were arguing about traffic again. Like he did every time they talked about transportation, Alexei suggested they needed a powerful Sentry to fly them to their destination.

“Sentry or not, it’s still faster if we walk,” Alexei added. The car hadn’t moved more than an inch in over five minutes.

“Fine. We’ll walk the rest of the way,” Bucky spat. John noticed he was particularly surly this morning. All of them piled out of car and walked the remaining few blocks in silence. There were dozens of people with cameras outside taking pictures as they approached the building. A couple reporters called out questions to Bucky about the lawsuit. He gritted his teeth but made no other acknowledgement of their presence. Bucky held the door open, making sure they all got inside before he did.

“Second floor, conference room B,” he read from the paper in his hand.

When they reached the second floor, they were greeted by loud voices coming from a room down the hall:

“New York traffic is insane. I decided to just fly,” a voice John didn’t recognize was saying.

“Same. I webbed over from Queens. Much faster than the train!”

The first thing John noticed when they entered the room was that Joaquin, Sam, and two younger men were wearing their superhero suits. Joaquin’s Falcon suit was an army green with metallic, silver accents. A matching helmet rested in the corner of the room next to Sam’s glorious shield. John had never seen the other two but assumed they had enhanced abilities too. One of them was standing in the corner wearing a red bodysuit with blue accents on his arms and legs. It covered everything but his face and neck. An image of a black spider was sewn onto the chest area. The other guy was wearing a red, white, and blue armored suit. It made him look disproportionately bulky compared to his small, freckled face.

John clenched his jaw and looked at Bucky with annoyance. Bucky had insisted the team come in casual clothes to show their peaceful intentions. Bullshit.

None of the men looked up at the new arrivals or made any indication that they noticed their presence. Instead, they continued talking amongst each other. The guy in the patriot suit was showing Joaquin something on his phone.

“That article is outdated, Eli. Sam might be off the market,” Joaquin teased. “He’s been seeing someone and keeping it a secret. But he smiles like a schoolboy every time his phone buzzes—”

“Shut up, Joaquin,” Sam growled.

Yelena’s eyes met John’s briefly, but she kept her expression stoic and sucked in her cheeks to hide a smile. He was sure he would hear an earful from her later. They took their seats at the far end of the table away from the other four. Bucky at the head of the rounded table, directly across the long table from Sam. He turned to see the new arrivals and froze when his eyes met John’s. John glared back, feeling the warmth of anger bubbling in his stomach.

“Peter!” Joaquin said to the one in the spider suit, still pressing the issue. “Your first mission is to figure out who Captain America is dati—” He was cut off by a sudden commotion. When no was looking, John had pushed a notepad into Bob’s Styrofoam cup of tea, spilling rose-colored liquid all over the table.

“Oh no! I’m—I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I knocked it over.” Bob stood up with a horrified look, grabbing tissues from the box in the middle of the table. John looked at the other end of the table. Sam gave him a subtle nod of gratitude. Peter and Eli were now flipping idly through their phones. Joaquin was leaning backwards in his chair staring at the ceiling, popping his chewing gum, like he would rather be anywhere but in this room.

“So…where’s Valentina?” Sam filled the silence, looking directly at Bucky with a knowing expression.

“Why? Were you worried she would come? Judging by your team, you seem to have an aversion to women?” Yelena snorted loudly at Ava’s feisty words. Sam’s eyes narrowed. The door opened before he could respond.

A tall man in a black suit with red-lensed glasses walked in the room. He held a long, white stick in front of him, guiding his movements. His dark hair was cropped short to his head and he had the shadows of a once-full beard. He moved confidently to the chair in the middle of the long table—equidistant from Sam and Bucky on either side. Then he gave the room a cordial smile.

“I’m Matthew Murdock. I’m an attorney. I don’t represent either party in this case. But I’ve been asked to serve as the mediator. I understand we’re discussing ownership rights of the Avengers trademark which includes, but isn’t limited to, the name, logo, marketing and promotional materials, Avengers Tower, Stark technology, pending patents—”

“What did you just say?”

Murdock paused. He seemed caught off guard at the sound of Bucky’s gruff voice.

“Ummm. I’m not sure. Which part Mr. Barnes?” He gave a pleasant smile in Bucky’s direction.

“What did you say about the Tower?” Bucky asked again through gritted teeth.

“Ah, yes. Let me go back. Okay right here. Ownership rights of the Avengers trademark would include the real estate property located at 200 Park Avenue, also known as Avengers Tower—” His fingers traced the words in braille on the paper in front of him. John’s stomach dropped. They were going to be kicked out?

“BULLSHIT! What the fuck? You want the Tower?” Bucky glared across the table at Sam, his eyes flashed with overflowing rage. John swallowed, his gaze flicking between the two men.

Sam gave a long sigh like an exasperated parent explaining something simple to a child. “I don’t want the Tower. It just comes with the trademark. All I want is the name, man. It doesn’t…it can’t…be used by any of…them…” He waved his hand at the other side of the table.

“And by them you mean…?”

Murdock’s brow furrowed, sensing the shift in the room—a storm brewing. His enhanced senses could hear elevated heartbeats and increased breathing patterns. He raised a hand to intervene. But the heaviness in the room had reached its maximum minutes ago. In fact, the pressure that had been building since Valentina’s New Avengers announcement three months ago was bubbling over, filling the room in a suffocating tension.

“Please," Murdock's low voice sliced through the tension. "I ask that you don’t speak directly with each other. If it’s better to be in separate rooms, we can arrange—”  

“Do you really want me to say it?” Sam interrupted. “Ava is wanted in 36 countries for espionage, Yelena is an assassin who’s committed numerous crimes on Valentina’s payroll, Alexei sold his own daughters to the Red Room program, no idea who the hell Bob is but if his record is anything like the rest of your team…” Sam let his voice trail off. He had made his point.

“Oh fuck off! You know I was working for S.H.I.E.L.D. How many innocent lives did your Avengers take?” Ava shot back the same time Yelena yelled out a string of curses and Alexei yelled: “You know nothing of what you speak of!” The room erupted into shouts and chaos.

“ENOUGH!” Murdock shouted and pounded on the table. His voice, careful and deliberate, tried to get the mediation back on track: “Let’s keep this civil. We’re here for resolution, not insults.” His face looked strained and his knuckles were whitening where he gripped the table.

A hushed silence fell over the room. John inhaled. He looked around the table at the angry and hurt faces of his team members. Bucky’s hand trembled on the table as he struggled to contain his anger. The quiet pressed in, thick and suffocating, until Joaquin finally broke it with a loud, exaggerated yawn that seemed to echo throughout the room.

“This is such a waste of time, Sam. Just show them the letter and we can go.”

The air stilled. Even the hum of the air conditioning seemed to stop. Letter?  John looked around the table to see a set of similarly-confused faces. Sam was frozen. He looked like he was going to be sick.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea at this stage, Mr. Torres,” Murdock countered through clenched teeth. “How about we return to the agenda I sent yesterday? Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson can each provide their wish list, and we go from there to decide which items are negotiable. Again, I’d like to remind you to speak directly to me, not each other.”

Bucky shook his head. “No, no. They brought up a letter. Sounds like you know about it too Murdock. So share. What letter?”

Sam looked like he was choking on a sour lemon. His face was twisted in pain as he stared at a spot on the table in front of him. He pretended not to feel Joaquin’s eyes watching him expectantly. They sat in silence for what felt like hours. An unspoken stalemate: Sam silently refusing to explain the surprise letter and Joaquin bursting impatiently to share its juicy contents.

“Nick Fury provided a letter of support,” Joaquin finally explained. “And as the original owner of the Avengers Initiative, he’s made it clear that he supports us 100% and wants Valentina nowhere near the legacy he created.” He slapped a file on the table, sliding it in Bucky’s direction down the length of the table. “It’s co-signed by nearly a dozen others…Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, Carol Danvers, Scott Lang, Clint Barton…the list goes on and on.”

Bucky opened the file. The piece of paper shook in his hand as his eyes darted back and forth over the words in front of him. “Nick Fury is off world,” he muttered in disbelief.

Joaquin shrugged. “He thought this was important enough to weigh in on. He’s even offered to come settle this in person if needed.” The younger man gave Bucky a toothy grin. Checkmate, his arrogant smile said.

Bucky fumed in silence. Weighing his options. He tapped his finger irritably, shaking his head slowly. Eventually he seemed to concede defeat. He started gathering his files together to make a quick exit. John’s heart ached seeing him look so utterly defeated. He had been so hopeful for peace, and Sam had basically steamrolled him.

“Bullshit,” John muttered.

Sam’s head jerked sharply in his direction, a questioning look on his face. Joaquin raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. Eli and Peter gave each other tense looks.

“This is fucking bullshit.” John was shaking with anger now. This felt like an ambush, not a mediation. Bucky had been outmatched. It was like they came to play a game of chess, but Bucky hadn’t been given any of the game pieces. And John was pissed. He looked directly at the person who deserved all the blame: Sam.

“You talk like you don’t need us. But the reality is you should be begging us to join you. I don’t even know who these assholes are with you, but they barely look old enough to handle this kind of responsibility. What happens when the world faces a threat after their bedtimes?” Eli and Peter looked away under the weight of his glare.

“Where the hell were any of those people in that letter when the Flag Smashers blew up the UN? What about when the Void took over New York? In fact, I don’t remember seeing any of you there, including you Captain. We handled that on our own. So no. We are not gonna kiss your ass! In fact, ya’ll can kiss our asses as we walk out the door!”

“How about we take this outside then, Walker?” Joaquin threatened.

“Fine with me. Just make sure you keep the suit on, Torres. Don’t want you to say it wasn’t a fair fight when I beat the shit out of you.”

In a quick movement, Joaquin jumped out of his chair and started lunging towards John. But Murdock’s reflexes were surprisingly quick. Without turning away from the table, he hopped out of his seat, grabbed the lunging Falcon and threw him against the wall with one arm. His face was red with anger.

“I want you all OUT! Get out of my office! This mediation is over!”

Bucky was already at the door, leaving the file from Joaquin on the table. Ava, Alexei, and Bob quickly shuffled out after him. Murdock gathered the rest of his papers and left without a word.

John took a deep breath to calm himself then stood up. His temper was bubbling at the surface and he was ready to explode. Yelena came over to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. It was grounding. He focused on her hand and his breathing as they walked to the door their team had just escaped from.

“John! Can I have a word?” Sam’s voice punched through the air, stopping them both in their tracks. They turned to look at him.

“I’ll meet you back at the office,” he told his team sternly. Joaquin gave John one last threatening look but left with the other two. John nodded quickly at Yelena, giving her permission to leave. When Sam was content that they were alone with the doors closed, he walked over to John.

“I’m so sorry. This is exactly what I didn’t want—you in the middle of all this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this was where you were going this morning? This wasn’t just some meeting. It felt like a trap! You had that letter this whole time? And you’re gonna put us out of the Tower?” John’s words were tumbling out so quickly.

“I should have said where I was going today. I’m sorry. And no. We just got the letter. I asked Fury for a letter of support months ago. Honestly, I forgot about it until it arrived last week. I guess he was collecting signatures…”

“And the Tower?”

“I—I don’t want it. But it comes with owning the name. We could work something out…”

“And what about that shit you said about our team? That we’re all just a bunch of fuck ups?”

Sam was quiet for a few moments. Silently refusing to answer the question.

“Look, that wasn’t how I wanted this to go at all. I’m really sorry John. Can we talk about this? Not here though. Maybe somewhere more private?”

“No,” John backed away from him. “No there’s nothing to talk about. Whatever this is, it’s done. I’m done.”

John walked out the door, ignoring Sam’s pleas for him to stay. He felt so betrayed. He had trusted Sam. Hot tears were welling in his eyes. He stopped in his tracks seeing Yelena standing in the hallway waiting for him. She opened her arms. A simple gesture, but enough to release the tears he had been holding back. Without looking back, they headed for the exit, arm in arm.

Chapter 5

The sound of a pencil scratching paper woke John up from a restless sleep. He looked toward the sound and squinted, realizing someone had opened his curtains. Blinding sunlight was streaming through the glass patio doors, far too bright to be the morning sun.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Yelena’s voice said from his couch, looking up from her sketchbook. She had made herself comfortable stretched all the way out with her bare feet up on the armrest. He frowned wondering how long she had been sitting there.

“What are you doing in here?” his voice was raspy and dry from not being used in a while.

She sighed and set down her pencil. Her green eyes looked over at him with pity. “You haven’t left your bed in two days. I told everyone you have a stomach bug but…they’re threatening to take you to the hospital if you don’t come out soon. And honestly, I’m worried about you, John Walker. You need to eat something.”

John let out a groan. Two days had passed since that disaster of a mediation. After everyone trudged back to the Tower in silence, he’d retreated to his room and never left. In fact, he hadn’t left this exact spot. In his bed. Buried under the covers with the curtains closed. And wishing the world—and specifically Yelena—would just leave him alone.

He reached for his phone from the nightstand. The time showed 15:43 next to a low battery alert. There were several unread texts and missed calls from various people. And that voicemail. From Sam. The one he had been listening to for the past couple days whenever he wanted to hear Sam’s voice again. As if on autopilot, he pushed play:

“Hey John. I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am. I hope you listen to this. There’s so much I want to say to you. But mostly I owe you an apology for hiding what was going on. Please don’t take it to mean I wasn’t truthful about everything else. You mean a lot to me…I miss you John. Whenever you’re ready, please call me. Or text. Or stop by. Whatever you want. I just hope I hear from you soon. I’m so sorry, baby.”

The voicemail reignited a sharp pain in his chest. A fresh wave of hot tears flooded his vision. He shoved his head in his pillow and let the tears escape. Immediately he felt a dip in the bed followed by Yelena’s hands rubbing his hair.

“Bucky and Sam both hid a lot from us. I guess they thought they were protecting us in their own way.”

John wiped away tears and looked at her.

“I trusted him with…me. With everything. And…I think…I think I was really falling for him.”

Yelena nodded and ran her hand through his hair.

“I think you guys need to talk. Hear him out. But first, let’s take care of you, okay? Just take it one step at a time. Come eat.”

John closed his eyes. Reveling in the feeling of her fingers on his scalp. It was comforting. They stayed like that for a while until she abruptly stood up and grabbed her sketchbook. He felt cold from the loss of contact.

“I’ll see you out there.” She stopped with her hand on the door handle and turned to face him. “By the way, a lot has changed in these past two days. We adopted two strays.”

“We have pets now?” John frowned in disbelief moving to sit up.

“I did not say animals.” And with that cryptic non-answer, she was gone.

John sighed loudly. He preferred to stay here, but he dreaded the idea of his roommates barging in and dragging him to get medical attention for a broken heart. When he stood, the room swayed back and forth; he was dizzy with dehydration. He took a deep breath, then walked to the bathroom to freshen up.

After a shower he looked in the mirror—his eyes were red around the lids and his hair was growing into his eyes. He trimmed his beard and hastily put on his black Atlanta Falcons hat to hide that he desperately needed a haircut. A smile spread across his face when he remembered how Sam teased him about liking the rival team of his New Orleans Saints.

Sam. Damn. He missed him. But he felt so betrayed about the lawsuit, the letter, and his harsh words about his team—no, his friends. John looked at the voicemail notification again on his phone. His finger hovered over the play button, but then he hit delete instead. Time to move on.

He tiptoed out to the kitchen, hoping no one would notice his quiet entrance. His mouth watered at the box of pastries Bucky had no doubt left for him on the counter.

Yelena was busying herself preparing him food. Bob and Ava were curled under a blanket, watching a movie on the couch. Alexei and Bucky were sitting at the large island trying to figure something out on the computer. Bucky glanced over when he walked in the room, his brow furrowed in that familiar way, but said nothing.

And then John noticed two other people—he did a double take realizing who they were. He stared at the two strangers in confusion, unsure if his over-rested mind was playing tricks on him.

Peter was sprawled across the armchair, one leg flung over the side as he scrolled through his phone. And Eli stood beside the kitchen counter, untwisting the tangled cord of a phone charger.

“Ummm…hi?”

Peter straightened into a formal sit, his expression sheepish as if he’d been caught somewhere he didn’t belong. Eli cleared his throat, looking everywhere but at John. Silence and tension filled the air. Yelena cut through the heavy silence in a bored tone. “Just tell him what you told us.”

Eli took a small step forward, rubbing his hands together. “Uh Sergeant Walker… We—uh, we owe you an explanation. Or at least an apology.”

Peter nodded, eyes darting from John to the others. “Yeah. We didn’t realize what we were signing up for. Sergeant Torres told us we were signing our Avengers contracts and then taking pictures. We thought Mr. Murdock was just going to go over the contracts with us until you guys showed up... And then everything went sideways, and…” He trailed off, swallowing hard.

Eli picked up the thread, voice sounding more confident now. “We went back to the office with them and resigned on the spot. I don't want any part of going toe to toe with the Winter Soldier.” Bucky smiled and winked at him. “Then we came straight here to make things right with you guys. We’ve sorta been hanging around since.”

“Yeah, you guys are lot more fun to be around,” Peter added.

John felt something inside him loosen. He had been holding his breath, bracing for a confrontation while his temper bubbled below the surface. He looked at them, at the earnestness on their young faces, and nodded.

“Umm. Just ‘John’ is fine,” he mumbled.

Peter flashed a nervous grin and Eli continued fidgeting with his charger, knocking it against the countertop a few times before finally putting it in his pocket. John took a deep breath, feeling the heaviness of the past few days begin to lighten. No matter what was going on, it felt great to go through it as a team. In one way or another, they had all been lied to that day. So in some fateful way, it made sense that they were all in this together now.

Yelena handed him a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup and murmured, “Eat.”

He thanked her and took a seat at the island, the steam from Yelena’s soup curling up into his face. He stirred his soup absentmindedly then hastily took a few sips when he noticed Yelena was watching him closely. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Bucky kept glancing his way with a concerned look. It was starting to irk his nerves. He looked at Bucky pointedly, daring him to say whatever was on his mind.

“You’re feeling better?” Bucky finally asked him with a raised brow. John shrugged, swirling his spoon in the thick fruit smoothie Yelena had just handed to him.

“I didn’t know you could get so sick with the serum?” Bucky pressed.

“Yeah. Me either,” John grumbled. He wasn’t in a talkative mood. Thankfully, Alexei’s booming voice halted Bucky’s inquisition.

“Pass me the salt Peter!”

“Dad! You’re not even eating anything. You don’t need the salt!”

“Oh, but it’s fun! Peter?”

Peter smiled and shot a web across the room, hitting the saltshaker which he pitched into Alexei’s open hand. Bucky and Yelena exchanged annoyed eyerolls, like they had seen this trick several times already. Yelena let out a string of curses and started arguing with Alexei, causing Bucky and Eli to burst into fits of laughter. Ava and Bob started yelling at them to “keep it down” and “stop interrupting” the movie. Peter looked guilty at the argument he caused.

John smiled and let the familiar banter flow around him. The room was alive with the small chaos of their strange family, and for a few minutes, he let himself get lost in it. He could almost forget the heartbreak that had enveloped him for days—here, with the warmth of soup and laughter, the fog of sadness in his mind began to lift.

He finished his food quietly, allowing the people around him to drown out his presence. Then he made his way toward the hallway and down two flights of stairs to the pool in hopes that a swim could release some of his pent-up anxiety. The water in the large pool shimmered warmly. Slowly, he peeled off his shirt, feeling the stiffness in his muscles from lying in bed for two days straight.

The cool air touched his skin, leaving goosebumps. He stripped down to his briefs, then sat on the edge, dipping his feet into the water. It was surprisingly cool, but not unpleasant. He pushed off, letting himself slide into the inviting water.

After he pushed through the initial shock of the cold temperature, be started to tread water. Eventually, transitioning into long, deliberate strokes through the water with a determined rhythm. Each stretch and kick reawakened the muscles he hadn’t used in days.

He swam lap after lap until the anxiety that had weighed on his chest slowly loosened its grip. He focused on the sensation of the water against his skin, the stretch of his muscles, the steady flow of his breath. When he finally pushed off the wall and floated on his back, a sense of calm settled over him. For the first time in days, he felt at peace. The brightening lights on the buildings outside the large windows told him nighttime was coming soon. And he was relieved knowing he could return to his bed soon, away from the watchful eyes of his roommates.

When he returned to their floor, he heard muffled voices and laughter in the hallway. He let the sounds fade, and stepped into his room, ready to let a shower wash away the chlorine smell on his skin. After stripping down, he turned on the faucet.

But just as he was about to hop under the warm stream of water, he heard a soft knock at his door. It can’t be Yelena. She’s clearly comfortable enough picking the lock and sitting on my couch whenever she wants, he thought with annoyance. He made sure his towel was tight around his waist before he answered the door.

“Hey,” Bucky said when John opened the door. His eyes traveled briefly down John’s bare chest, then back up to his eyes.

“Oh. Hey.” John stepped aside to let him enter before letting the heavy door shut. He scratched the back of his head nervously, realizing Bucky had never been in his room before. Bucky looked around the room with interest for a moment before he spoke.

“I had a chance to talk to the others, not you,” Bucky explained, turning to face him. “But I’m really sorry for hiding what was going on from you guys. That mediation was a shit show. I shouldn’t have brought any of you into that drama…Ummm…and I wanted to thank you for sticking up for everyone.”

John nodded. They stood in silence. It felt like Bucky had something else he wanted to say. His eyes kept shifting nervously to his feet.

“I was kind of worried you weren’t leaving your room to avoid seeing me…” Bucky finally admitted quietly. Oh.

“No! No. Of course not. It had nothing to do with you. I just…wasn’t feeling well.”

“Really?”

“Really. I just needed some rest.”

A relieved smile spread across Bucky’s face, easing some of the stress lines that had been etched there. “Good. That’s… really good to hear.” His eyes flickered down again, just for a second, to John’s chest, before meeting his eyes once more. A faint flush rose on John’s cheeks, suddenly very aware that he was wearing nothing but a towel.

“Are you okay Bucky? You’ve been dealing with a lot these past couple months.”

Bucky hesitated. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted after a moment. “Some days I feel like I’m just trying to stay above water. But… it helps, having you guys around. It keeps me from isolating, like I usually do.” He ran a hand through his long hair.

John felt his heart thud in his chest. He cleared his throat, his nerves battling the warmth rising through him. “I’m always here if you need to talk. About anything. I care about you.”

Bucky nodded, searching John’s eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know that now. And it means…a lot to me.”

John reached for Bucky’s hand, and their fingers intertwined naturally. For a while, they just stood there, quiet, letting the closeness speak for them.

Finally, Bucky squeezed John’s hand and grinned. “You should probably put some clothes on before someone barges in and gets the wrong idea.”

John laughed. “Not until I wash off this chlorine.” He started walking towards his bathroom, then stopped. He turned to look where Bucky was hungrily watching him walk away, slowly licking his lips and staring John up and down. “You know…you could join me if you want.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened with arousal and lust. “Okay. Yeah. I’d like that.” He followed John to the bathroom, already stripping away layers of clothes as he walked. John dropped his towel and moved under the hot stream of water. His eyes closed, focusing on the water droplets massaging his skin. A pair of gentle hands looping around his waist reminded him he wasn’t alone.

Bucky closed the glass door behind him as his lips pressed against John. Electricity and desire shot through John’s body. Despite the warm water dripping down their bodies, he shivered, feeling his back pushed against the cold tile. Bucky’s hands moved to the back of his head, tugging at the hair there. He moaned at the feeling of Bucky’s hands slowly traveling down his body until they rested on either side of his waist. Their lips searched each other's for what felt like hours. 

It was Bucky who broke the kiss to search John’s eyes with an unspoken question. He seemed to get his answer though because he dropped to his knees. His dark hair clung to his wet face, framing his blue eyes as he looked up at John. His mouth was inches away from John’s throbbing cock.

“Please,” John managed to say.

His loud moan echoed against the walls when Bucky took him in his mouth. He grabbed Bucky’s head, jerking his hips and thrusting into his mouth. Bucky’s tongue slid around the underside of John’s cock. The warm water falling around them amplified the wet sounds of Bucky’s lips, pushing John to the edge faster. His mouth let go with a wet pop just before John came, letting his white release flow down the drain. When he stood up again, he pulled John close to him again in a kiss. His hard cock bumped needily against John’s thighs.

John wasn’t sure how much touching Bucky was comfortable with, so he took it slow. Gliding his palms against Bucky’s neck, then down his chest, up and down his arms before moving down his back. Never breaking apart from their messy, wet kiss. He palmed Bucky’s cock, pausing to see if Bucky tensed up at all.

Shower beads massaged his back as he stroked Bucky’s cock, eliciting a loud groan. As he moved his hand faster, Bucky’s moans got louder. Such a sexy sound he didn't think he could elicit from the super soldier. It wasn’t long before Bucky was spilling his cum all over the shower floor.

Bucky flipped them around so his back was now against the wall, pulling John flush against his body. John pulled away from their kiss when he felt Bucky’s hands disappear from his shoulders. His breath caught in his chest. Bucky was stretching himself open with one hand, and thrusting fingers from the other hand inside.

“Need you, doll,” he pleaded softly.

John stroked his wet cock until he was fully hard again then lined himself up at Bucky’s hole.

“You sure?” he asked. Bucky nodded desperately, then he reached over and turned off the shower. The water was making the floor a little too slippery. In the newfound quiet, John could hear both of their heavy breaths. He lifted one of Bucky’s thighs to his waist for a better angle as he pushed inside. Bucky was so tight. Pleasure cascaded down his body causing his head to fall into the crook of Bucky’s neck at first.

He looked up at Bucky whose head was arched into the wall, the shadows of his beard surrounding his red lips which were parted open in pleasure. His blue eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“You’re so sexy, Buck,” John murmured as he started to thrust. He raised Bucky’s leg higher with one hand and used the other to hold Bucky’s neck still while he sucked the delicate skin into dark hickeys. Bucky’s loud moans harmonized with the sound of their wet flesh slapping against each other, echoing loudly against the walls.

“I’m so close, doll,” Bucky whined. John increased his pace. Pounding into Bucky’s warmth as his own orgasm bloomed.

“Jesus, Bucky. You feel so fucking good.” The closer he got to the edge, the more chaotic his rhythm became. He pumped his hips a few more times until they were both calling out each other’s names.

John’s brain was fuzzy with pleasure. He barely registered Bucky turning the shower back on to help him wash up with soap or drying off when they got out. The last thing he remembered before falling into a deep sleep was the feeling of Bucky’s scruffy beard against his forehead and gentle hands against his face.

 

*****

 

John woke up the next morning to see Bucky next to him typing away on his phone. He put the phone on the nightstand when he noticed John stirring awake.

“How did you sleep?” John asked, hiding his surprise that Bucky had stayed the night.

“Great actually. No nightmares.” Bucky smiled, a wide toothy grin. He leaned down to give John a long kiss. “Do you want me to try to sneak out of here?” He whispered.

John smiled back and shook his head.

“You’re fine, Buck. I don’t care if they know.”

“Me either. But it might a little awkward now that people know you’re my favorite member of the team.”

John laughed and threw back the covers. “I’m going to get some coffee.”

“I have to make a quick call, but I’ll join you out there soon.”

John went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get dressed. He slid on his favorite hat and opened the door to see Bucky was still on the phone. He gave John a friendly wave, but his face was carved into a frown.

Shuri’s voice echoed in the large room: “I have spoken to half of the people who allegedly signed that letter, James, and they had no idea what they were signing on to! Scott Lang thought he was giving permission for his signature to be included in Nick Fury’s retirement card! I’m starting to think we should go with Rocket’s plan...” John closed the door behind him as Bucky was letting out a loud string of angry curses. He sighed. He had no interest in hearing anything about Sam, or letters, or “Avengers" anytime soon.

When he walked into the kitchen, he noticed the vibes were slightly off. First of all, it was far too quiet for such a packed room. Bob and Eli were playing a card game at the coffee table—Bob sitting crisscross on the floor and Eli on the couch. Yelena, Alexei, Peter, and Ava were sitting around the island eating breakfast.

The second thing he noticed was that everyone was averting their eyes away from him when their eyes met his. Something was going on. But he was too exhausted to try to solve it now. Instead, he grabbed a cup of coffee and mumbled a “good morning” before sitting down next to Yelena. For a few minutes no one said anything. Every now and then, Alexei would loudly clear his throat then bump Ava’s shoulder with his. But other than that, an awkward silence settled over the room.

The sound of his bedroom door opening behind him meant Bucky was joining them, and their secret hookup was not so secret anymore.

“Look, I’m just gonna say it,” Ava broke the silence when Bucky sat down with a large mug of coffee. “Please turn loud music on or something next time.” She glared back in forth between John and Bucky. Bucky’s mug stopped just before touching his lips.

“Wha—what?!” John choked on his coffee, falling into a fit of coughs.

“I think…um… it’s not really your fault,” Peter offered. “Like your bathroom has good acoustics maybe?”

“It could be a great location for karaoke,” Alexei thought out loud. “We put the speakers in John’s bathroom but do our song and dance out here.”

Eli and Bob were giggling uncontrollably at the conversation, raising their hands full of cards to hide their faces. John turned to Yelena with a look of horror. She smiled.

“Don’t get us wrong. We’re happy for you both. The sexual tension between you two has been going on for months!” There was a symphony of nods.

“What sexual tension? There’s no sexual tension!” John protested.

“Yeah, well not anymore obviously,” Yelena winked. John felt his body temperature rising. He knew his face was probably the color of Alexei’s Red Guardian suit. He hazarded a glance at Bucky.

Bucky was laughing quietly, tears shining in the corners of his eyes.

“Ugh. I hate you all. I’m going for a run.”

He made a quick retreat to the elevator, shoes pounding against the floor as laughter echoed behind him. John took a deep breath of fresh air. He hadn’t been outside in days. He jogged hard, pushing himself. The ache of his muscles was a welcome feeling over the knot of embarrassment in his stomach. By the time he had finished his usual route, he was feeling like himself again.

He paused for a moment to lean against a tree, staring up at the pale blue sky. The Tower was just visible in the distance, and John felt the tug of home. He jogged the rest of the way back with a slight smile on his face.

But as he approached the Tower, he noticed a handsome man in a black Saints hat leaning against the locked front doors. His leather jacket and tight jeans perfectly framed his muscular build. Shit.

“Sam?”

Chapter 6

Sam looked up from his phone. The sun hit his eyes, casting an amber glow over them. John’s heart skipped a beat. “Hey, sorry to show up like this…I was hoping to run into you,” Sam explained with a soft expression.

His smile was hesitant, and his eyes looked back in forth between John’s. His thumbs were now hooked nervously in his jacket pockets.

John’s heart was racing. From the run, he told himself. Not from seeing Sam where he least expected.

“What are you doing here?” he managed to ask, the question coming out icier than he had intended.

Sam’s mouth twitched. He didn't answer for a few moments. Then finally, he cleared his throat. “I know I messed up. And I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I had to try one last time.”

One last time. The three words hit him like a punch to his gut. John’s anger melted away, revealing the sadness that had been gripping him for days. The idea of losing Sam for good crushed him.

“Is there anything I can do to make it right?” Sam asked hopefully.

John thought about it. He knew he would regret not hearing him out. And deep down, a part of him wanted to hear what Sam had to say more than anything. He glanced around and could see people were starting to recognize Sam. Voices whispered, fingers pointed, and phone cameras started to aim in their direction. They needed to finish this conversation away from prying ears and eyes.

“Fine. Come on.”

He pulled his hat lower on his head and opened the door for Sam. The guard at the front desk looked at Sam with surprise but waved them through. John’s heart was beating rapidly as the elevator doors opened. What would the others say? It was too late to warn them.

“Your hat sucks,” Sam mumbled in the silence of the elevator ride. In spite of himself John found himself grinning widely.

“You’re an ass,” he teased back.

Sam smiled sadly. “I know.”

The elevator chime signaled their arrival to the main floor. The doors opened, revealing everyone gathered in the living room. Eli and Bob were now playing a board game, Peter was reading a book in the armchair, and the others were spread out on the couches and the floor in a hushed conversation. He smiled seeing the fresh box of pastries Bucky had once again left for him on the counter.

No one looked at John when he entered. He looked behind him to check that Sam was still following him. The other man was looking around the Tower with interest: eyes moving over the high ceilings and endless windows. John took a deep breath and looked back where the team was assembled. His eyes met Yelena’s shocked expression. Help, he mouthed.

The atmosphere shifted the moment everyone noticed them; the low hum of conversation disappeared, replaced by the thick quiet that always seems to fill the air before a storm. John saw everyone’s eyes land on Sam, reading the anger in each face. For a split second, John thought about pulling Sam back into the elevator, whisking them both away from the brewing confrontation. But he held steady, shoulders squared. And Sam didn’t flinch from the scrutiny. He noticed all eyes were on him but still took a few more steps into the large room.

“What the hell is he doing here?!” Alexei jumped up, marching towards them.

“Wait!” John put his hands on Alexei’s chest, halting him in place. “He just wants to talk to us.” Alexei’s eyes flared with anger. Ava and Yelena moved to stand on other side of Alexei, but didn’t look like they would be too sorry if he lunged at Sam again. Peter, Eli, and Bob looked up to watch the scene unfold but didn’t move any closer.

“What the hell do you want, Wilson?” Bucky asked angrily as he walked over. “Come to take the Tower from us? Or maybe show us more bullshit letters?” The icy tone in his voice sent a chill down John’s spine. It was hard to believe these two were once best friends just a few months ago.

Sam held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not here for any of that." He stepped forward again, face solemn and voice firm despite the suffocating tension. “I came to apologize,” he explained, searching each face for any sign of understanding. “I came because I know things have gotten… messy. And I don’t want to fight with you. Not anymore.”

Alexei tsked in disbelief, arms crossed over his chest but didn’t interrupt.

Sam continued, “I’m tired of all the bullshit. Tired of my friends turning into enemies.” He glanced at Bucky, then John. “I want to move past it.”

It was silent again. John’s heart hammered in his chest. Yelena looked nervously between the group and Sam. Ava, hands tucked into her armpits, studied Sam with guarded curiosity. Bob nervously fidgeted with his long sleeves.

“Words are cheap. This isn’t something you just erase with one of your speeches,” Bucky hissed.

Sam nodded, swallowing. “I know. I don’t expect you to forgive me or trust me yet. But I’m here. I’m trying to make things right.” He hesitated, then softened his voice, “I know I can’t undo what’s happened. Or take back the fucked up shit I said and did. All I’m asking for is a chance, Buck.”

His eyes turned to Peter and Eli. “The way you were introduced to this superhero life was unacceptable. You never should have been in that room in the middle of all of this bullshit. But the way you reacted and stood up for what you believed in, shows it was the right decision recruiting you both.”

Eli and Peter exchanged glances—skeptical, but not dismissive. John inhaled as Sam looked at him, searching for support to continue. Caught between loyalties, he found himself nodding ever so slightly, hoping no one but Sam would notice.

Finally, Sam cleared his throat, voice trembling with sincerity and emotion. He looked around at the others in the room, but his watery eyes kept traveling back to John. “I think this could be something really special. And we can make some really great memories together. I hope I didn’t fuck this up for us. I’m asking for a fresh start. And I’m willing to put in the work. However, long it takes until you trust me again. I’m so sorry for all the pain I caused.”

John felt a tightness grip his chest. He had a feeling Sam was talking to him. In his peripheral he saw Yelena smirk and raise an eyebrow. Sam’s eyes lingered on John before he continued scanning the room.

“This…it means so much to me. And I want to make it work. Just give me a chance to prove it.” John swallowed hard, hoping no else was reading into Sam’s words. But Bucky’s eyes were now glancing back and forth between Sam and John with an unreadable expression.

Just then Sam reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a stack of papers.

“I withdrew the lawsuit and trademark claim. It doesn’t matter anymore. We all just need to work together when the next threat comes.” He held the papers out to Bucky who glared but snatched them from Sam’s hand. His eyes slid back and forth over the writing, knuckles white where he gripped the papers. “I need to make some calls,” he said abruptly. Then turned to leave the room. The others took that as their sign to leave too. They turned their backs to Sam and went back to the living room, talking together in hushed whispers.

“I was lost with some of what he was saying. He needs a new speech writer,” he heard Alexei mutter to the others.

John bit back a smile and walked Sam to the elevator.

“Thanks for letting me in,” Sam muttered. He got in the elevator and turned to face John. A look of defeat clouded his face.

“Bye, John.”

John’s heart sank. He took a step forward, wondering whether he should stop the elevator, or hop in with Sam. But it was too late. Before he could act, the doors closed in front of him with a loud bang.

“Bye Sam,” he whispered to himself. He lingered by the elevator doors long after Sam had gone, listening to the contrast of the faint hum of the elevator taking away the man he was falling for and the muted laughter in the distance of the people who hated him.

Eventually, John drifted back to the others, but little conversation reached him; every voice blended into a dull murmur in the background of his racing thoughts. The rest of the day seemed to go by so slowly. He was antsy. And anxious. Hours passed. John sat by the window, watching the city lights blink to life. He replayed the past week in his mind—the dinner date, the awful mediation, the elevator doors closing on a chapter he wasn’t ready to let go of—and wondered if anything would ever be like it was again.

His heart was torn in two. He had growing feelings for Bucky, but seeing Sam today only reignited his strong feelings for him too. His thoughts drifted back to Sam's raw vulnerability in front of the team—the defeat in his eyes, the stinging pain of his final goodbye. He wanted to believe being apart was for the best, but he missed him.

On the other hand, there was something both mysterious and safe about Bucky that made him yearn to spend more time with him. Bucky would probably never admit how much he cared about all of them. But John saw it in the subtle ways he had positioned himself as their protector and leader. Just being in his presence gave John the stability and security he didn’t realize he had been craving in the whirlwind of chaos since the Void. But still, it wasn’t enough to fill the Sam-filled hole in his heart.

He was still sitting by the window when the door to Bucky’s suite opened and heavy footsteps padded into the main room. Bucky had been in his suite making calls for the past couple hours. Now that he finally emerged, he had a huge smile on his face.

“Great! You’re all still here. Tomorrow we’ll be attending a joint press conference at the Garden to announce the reunification of the Avengers! Nick Fury will be there to make the official announcement, and any other Avengers who are available to come on such short notice.”

That caused a chorus of shouts and questions. Everyone was talking at once—speculating, arguing about logistics and what it all meant. Bucky glanced John's way, searching his eyes for a spark of excitement. But John gave only a distracted smile. He listened quietly for a while, but decided to leave when he felt anxiety weighing on his chest. His breaths were coming in and out in short bursts.

He excused himself before anyone could ask if he was okay, mumbling something about needing fresh air. Nobody tried to stop him; their minds were already racing ahead to tomorrow.

Outside, the night was alive with people and light. John moved through the crowds, irritably. He walked and walked, with no destination in mind. He realized where he was only as he rounded a corner and saw the glow of Sam’s hotel—a place he had promised himself he would never go again. But the tug was too strong. Before he knew it, he was at the back entrance of Sam’s hotel.

A guard, recognizing him, ushered him through to the freight elevator. He made it to Sam’s floor and knocked hesitantly at his door.

Sam opened the door with a phone to his ear. A shocked look spread across his face. He motioned John to come in and closed the door behind him.

Sit anywhere, he mouthed at John. A woman’s voice was sounding out of the phone. With his enhanced hearing, John could make out exactly what she was saying.

“Then you need to tell AJ why his uncle Bucky isn’t coming to his birthday party! This has gone on long enough. I can’t believe you would ever sue your best friend!”

“I know. Look, I’m going to see him tomorrow at the conference. I’ll talk to him about the party.”

John sat at the small table near the window. He looked around the room, noticing Sam’s suitcases were packed and lined up near the wall. It looked like he was planning to leave soon.

“It’s not about the party!” Sarah’s voice was rising now. “You guys were like brothers. What happened? This doesn’t make any sense.”

“I—it’s hard to explain.”

A large, red gift bag visible through the crack in the closet door caught John’s eye. A small card on the top of white tissue paper read To: JJ From: Captain America. What the—?  John’s heart was beating loudly in his ears. He looked to see that Sam still had his back towards him.

“Then explain it to me like I’m five, Sam! I can’t understand how it got this bad.”

Sam was sighing loudly. “It felt like I was on a speeding train, and I couldn’t jump off. Things kept happening, rumors kept spreading, and he wouldn’t take my calls but kept doing interviews and photo shoots with his Avengers team. All while working with Cruella de Ville. I’m not saying I handled this right, but I didn’t know what else to do…”

John kneeled down and read the sweet message in the card. Tears welled in his eyes when he lifted the tissue paper to look at the gifts: Captain America and Falcon action figures, a Lego set of the Watch Tower, coloring books of the original and New Avengers, and a tiny replica of John’s taco-shaped shield.

“Just take care of yourself, Sam. You sound sad. Come home soon. With Bucky.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Bye, Sarah. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

John ran his fingers over the gifts delicately. He looked at the approaching man with watery-eyed confusion. Sam paused realizing what John had found.

“I…uh…just got him something in case I ever got the honor to meet him. It was, um, before…you know…everything went to shit—” But Sam didn’t get to finish explaining. John’s lips crashed into his, holding him by his face to keep their mouths pressed together.

Sam returned the kiss with the same urgency. He pushed him against the window, thrusting his tongue into John’s mouth and holding their bodies together at the waist. It had been too long. John’s skin felt like fire everywhere Sam touched. He pulled away from the kiss to pull off his shirt. Sam’s lips found his again. His fingers began fumbling with the strings on John’s shorts until the fabric fell to the floor. He wasted no time rubbing his hands across John’s bare chest, arms, and then cupping his ass.

John’s heart was beating rapidly. His fingers shook with desire as he struggled to unbutton Sam’s shirt. Finally, the shirt fluttered to the floor. Sam dropped his pants and sandwiched John against the window again. The cool on his back was a sharp contrast to the hot skin to skin friction on the front of his body. A soft moan rolled out of John’s mouth as their hips and hard cocks pressed together.

Days of pent-up longing was making them both needy. John broke the kiss to trail a line of kisses down Sam’s jaw, then his throat, before sucking at the spot where neck meets shoulder.

“God I missed you baby,” Sam moaned. John hummed then pushed Sam towards the bed. Sam sat when he felt the bed against the back of his knees. John followed him to his lap, moving his lips to Sam’s ears. Sam moaned again. He flipped them so John was laying on his back with Sam straddling him. He reached into his drawer for the lube, wasting no time to start circling John’s hole.

John gasped when Sam's fingers pushed inside him, but wiggled his hips with arousal and anticipation. Sam continued stretching him open while he used his other hand to spread lube on his cock.

Sam put a pillow under John’s hips for a better angle. Then slowly thrust inside John, one inch at a time. John felt his body stretching around Sam. Sam’s thrusts, long and slow at first turned into short bursts. He held onto the back of Sam's thighs on either side of his body. It felt so good. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Sammy...” he tried to tell him. His fingers clawed at Sam's skin as pleasure took over and he came untouched. Sam kissed him through it: his lips capturing John's mouth, cheeks, and tears while murmuring words of comfort. John felt slightly embarrassed realizing he had finished so quickly. Sam tried to pull his hard cock out, but John held him in place by his firm ass.

“Just give me a second,” John breathed. He could go again with the serum he knew. He just needed to catch his breath. Sam kissed him again. Soft and sweet. John rolled them over so he was on top. The new angle hit his pleasure spot immediately.

“I missed you so much, babe.”

Sam smiled at the confession. “Baby, I missed you like crazy. It was so hard to give you space. But I didn’t want to push you away.” John gently rubbed Sam’s face with his hands, before he started moving. He bounced up and down on his knees, riding Sam’s hard cock and stroking himself. Sam's moans were music to his ears, growing louder and louder until he felt warm liquid filling him up. He followed soon after with his own wet release. Then they collapsed together in a sticky mess of limbs and sheets. 

 

*****

 

They were woken up the following morning by loud knocking at the door. Sam groaned. It wasn’t until the third round of knocks that he got up to answer the door, throwing on pants and a t-shirt on his way over.

“Look at this news article!” Joaquin’s voice floated in the room. “New superheroes—one in a spider suit and the other in a patriotic suit—were seen leaving the Watch Tower. Rumors are swirling that former Congressman Barnes recruited the duo—"

“Yeah I heard about that. But we’re all on the same team as of tonight right? And this is on you for lying to them.” Sam’s voice was cold.

“Don’t you care that they’re hanging out with—"

“Let’s talk later. I’m in the middle of something okay?” Sam closed the door. He walked back in the room where John was getting dressed.

“I should let you get ready,” John mumbled. Sam nodded but kept watching him.

“Umm…don’t be a stranger,” Sam said. “You can say hi to me today if you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

John nodded as he grabbed his phone. He pulled Sam close for a long kiss before finally making his way to the door. At the door, he stopped to admire the view again. Sam winked at him. He turned to leave before he could convince himself to stay. The door closed behind him with a click as he walked towards the elevators.

John was about to push the elevator call button but a movement to his right captured his attention. Torres. He was leaning against the wall blowing smoke from his vape pen, his eyes watching John with a small smile. Their eyes met.

“You um, don’t seem surprised to see me…”

Joaquin huffed and shook his head. “It all makes sense now. Sam’s never said anything bad about you. Even when he would rant about Bucky’s new team. Never one bad thing to say about John Walker. I always thought it was odd…” Joaquin studied him curiously, exhaling a thick plume of vapor.

“And then I really put it together after the mediation,” he continued. “Sam was so pissed at me. Honestly, I think he’s still mad at me. But not because I shared that stupid letter before we checked the signatures were legit. Or that I tricked Peter and Eli into coming. No. It was me threatening you that sent him over the edge.” Joaquin shook his head in shame at the memory.

John opened his mouth, then closed it. “Really?”

Joaquin nodded. “He went off about how I didn’t understand what you’d been through. He even said… he said I was being unfair to you. That I needed to give you a chance.” He paused, exhaling slowly, the vapor dissolving into the stale air of the hallway. “I’ve never seen him like that. Not for anyone else.”

John shook his head, processing what he just heard. “But why did you trick Peter and Eli? They have nothing to do with any of this.”

Joaquin looked down at his shoes. “I knew you guys would all show up together. You’re like…a real team. I just thought…well its always just me and Sam…it didn’t seem fair.” He shrugged, a slight flush rising on his cheeks. “Stupid, I know. But that’s how it felt.”

Suddenly, he reached out his hand. “Just take care of him. He has the biggest heart.”

John nodded and took his outreached hand. He knew it was time to come clean.

When he got back to the Tower he could sense the anxiety and excitement in the air. Items of clothing and papers were strewn everywhere. John quickly put on his suit and the navy beret Yelena got him. He grabbed his shield and sat in the kitchen eating cannolis, waiting for Bucky to appear.

Bucky was the first one to emerge from his room. He had on his typical black shirt and dark jeans. A utility belt with weapons was wrapped around his waist. But something was different this time. There was a red and silver "A" stuck to the left side of his chest.

"Mel sent over these cheesy patches. You can add it to your suit if you want." Bucky started fumbling through a small box on the counter, pulling out more patches.

John hummed dismissively. He didn't care about a silly "A" on his chest. 

“Umm...Bucky, can we talk?”

Bucky turned towards him again.

“I want to…I have to tell you...I’m—” But he never got to finish his sentence as the Tower dissolved into chaotic preparations for the conference.

“Mr. Barnes!” Peter was walking urgently towards them. “I don’t think I’m ready for the world to know who I am. You said this is on TV? I don’t know if I’m up for showing my face to anyone. Maybe your friend Shuri. But the others... I’m really sorry. I just—.”

“Hey, listen kid,” Bucky interrupted in a soft voice. “Do what makes you comfortable. We’re still a team no matter what any of us is wearing. Just keep your mask on the whole time. And no need to even talk if you don’t want to. It will be fine.”

Peter smiled gratefully and turned to walk out of the room, making his way past Bob who was now entering the room in a black bodysuit that was a few sizes too small. His arms were sticking out from his sides in unnatural positions.

“I’m stuck. Can you help me get out of this?”

“Jesus, Bob,” John laughed. “Why did you keep putting it on when you knew it wasn’t fitting?” He grabbed one sleeve while Bucky tried to maneuver his arm out of it.

“I just wanted to wear a hero suit like you guys,” Bob answered innocently. Eventually, after much struggling, he was able to get it off. Bucky told him to check his closet and take whatever he found that actually fit. Bob hummed happily and headed down the hall to Bucky’s suite.

Bucky looked over to the corner of the room where Eli was now staring at himself in the reflection of the window.

“What’s up, kid?” Bucky asked.

“I want to make my granddad proud. I’m a Black kid from Baltimore wearing the Stars and Stripes…But I’m not sure I’m ready for all the hate and opinions my family will get when people see me.”

“You want my advice? Keep your anonymity as long as you can. Don’t take off your helmet unless you’re a thousand percent sure its what you want.”

Eli smiled with watery eyes. “Okay. Thanks.”

Bucky pulled out his phone to record an audio message: “We need to keep Peter and Eli’s identities confidential. Please send over the updated flyer. Thanks, Mel.” John watched him continue typing urgently on his phone, wondering if he should ask him again to chat.

Just then Yelena entered the room with Ava and Alexei. They all had the "A" patches attached to their chests. “The driver said he doesn’t care if we’re Avengers. He’s leaving in five minutes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. He looked around the room to see Peter and Bob had now joined them. Bob was wearing a long-sleeve black shirt and black pants from Bucky’s closet—slightly too big but the confident smile on his face made it work. He fumbled with this shirt as he added one of the patches to his chest. Peter was holding his mask in his hand, looking less stressed and more excited.

“Okay here’s the plan,” Bucky started. “Valentina has been organizing a lot of this behind the scenes, but she won’t be there. Nick Fury will start the event off with a speech—” that evoked a chorus of gasps and noises of awe “—then he will introduce me and Sam. We’ll talk you guys up then call you to the stage one by one. There may be time for questions from the press that Sam and I can answer, but mainly we just smile and look pretty.”

He texted them all an updated flyer of today’s event. There were several graphics and pictures, but it was the words that made John gasp:

Nicholas J. Fury presents The Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes led by Captain Sam Wilson and Sergeant James Barnes. Featuring appearances by:

• Alexei Shostakov (“Red Guardian”)
• Ava Starr (“Ghost”)
• Bruce Banner (“Hulk”)
• Dr. Stephen Strange
• James Rhodes (“War Machine”)
• Joaquin Torres (“Falcon”)
• John Walker (“US Agent”)
• Kamala Khan (“Ms. Marvel”)
• Kate Bishop (“Hawkeye”)
• Robert “Bob” Reynolds
• Scott Lang (“Ant-Man”)
• Shuri Aja-Adanna (“Black Panther”)
• Sorcerer Supreme Wong
• Thor Odinson (“Thor”)
• Yelena Belova (“White Widow”)

And introducing Spiderman and Patriot!

“Peter and Eli want to maintain their anonymity for now,” Bucky explained. “So the second we walk out the lobby doors, only refer to them by their aliases. Understood?” His eyes moved around to each person in the room, lingering slightly longer on Alexei.  

“Hmmm. Very mysterious. I like it,” Alexei responded.

Outside, they split up into the two waiting SUVs—John, Alexei, Eli, and Bob in one car and Ava, Yelena, Peter, and Bucky in the other car. The car ride went pretty quickly. John stayed quiet while the other three chatted excitedly about which Avengers they couldn’t wait to meet.

When they arrived at Madison Square Garden, fans and press were lining the streets. A security team with heavy weapons ushered the group down a red carpet filled with flashing cameras and eager fans pressed up against velvet ropes. Bucky led his team through bright hallways until they found the waiting area.

The eyes on Peter’s mask widened at the faces in the room. Inside, the heroes mingled: Scott Lang rehearsing lines in the mirror, Kamala and Kate chatting and adjusting their outfits in the mirror. Dr. Hulk was easy to spot. He looked about 8 or 9 feet tall compared to man he was talking to: James Rhodes. Strange and Wong were loading their plates at the table of sandwiches. Bucky walked over to give Shuri a hug. He whispered something urgently in her ear before he disappeared from the room. John looked around but didn’t see Sam or Joaquin.

Just then Mel walked into the room and scanned the faces. “Where is Bucky?” she frowned. She looked at John who was standing closest to her: “Find him! I need to go get Fury.”

John took off, happy to leave the room of heroes he wasn’t quite sure he belonged in. He was twisting down a maze of hallways when he bumped into Joaquin. Joaquin was wearing his green and silver Falcon suit with an "A" patch on his chest, identical to the ones his teammates were wearing. His face looked panicked.

“Thor just landed but I can’t find Sam. I don't know what to do!”

John laughed. “Go greet him. Just say hi and thank him for coming. I’ll go find Sam, okay?”

Joaquin smiled uncertainly and took off towards the entrance. John navigated the maze of hallways until he found a dressing room with a sign that said “James Barnes” hanging from the door. He knocked a few times. There was no response. He opened the door and peered into an empty room. Weird.

Further down the hall he saw the dressing room labeled “Captain America.” He knocked insistently until Sam opened the door a crack. John felt the familiar flutter of butterflies in his stomach seeing his face.

“Hey, babe,” John murmured in the sexiest voice he could muster. “Everyone’s looking for you. You’re not getting camera shy are you?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted. He examined John for a few moments. When he finally spoke his voice was low, not full of its usual warmth.

“I’ve actually just been catching up with an old friend…He’s been sharing some very interesting stories about you.”

Sam pushed the door open the rest of the way revealing a scowling Bucky standing next to him. His arms were folded across his chest and his eyes were dark with anger, they looked almost murderous.

The smile dropped from John’s face. His eyes moved between the two men in realization. Shit. He felt the blood draining from his face as Bucky’s glare pinned him in place.

“You didn’t think we would find out you’re playing us both?” Bucky spat.

The air in the hallway grew tense and charged. John opened his mouth, searching for something to say—maybe something clever to defuse the tension, or better yet, a heartfelt apology. But nothing came.

He couldn’t even swallow. His throat had gone dry. There was no escape. No more sneaking around. He had finally been caught in a tangled web of his own careless design. His mind raced through a thousand explanations, but none were good enough.

“You were lying to us,” Bucky continued in a venomous tone. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides. “Every time you looked one of us in the eye after being with the other. Didn’t you ever think about how we would feel when we found out? Were we just options for you to get your dick wet? Who else were you fuc—”

“Bucky…” Sam warned. His face was full of disappointment rather than fury. Somehow that hurt even more than Bucky’s icy glare.

John looked between the two men and realized how foolishly tangled things had become. “I…” He swallowed, trying to steady his voice. “You both deserve better than excuses.”

Sam’s posture softened slightly, but he didn’t move from the doorway. “We’re listening,” he said, quiet but firm.

A thousand emotions bubbled in John’s stomach—regret, fear, longing for forgiveness. “I screwed up. I got caught up in my feelings for both of you, and I didn’t know how to stop before it was too late. It was selfish. And I never meant to hurt either of you.”

Neither of them spoke. Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes. Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

“Honesty is a start,” Sam said. “But you’ve got a lot more explaining to do.”

John’s heart was pounding with anxiety and deep regret. But despite being exposed, he felt a sense of relief from the guilt that was eating him. It was all over now. He didn’t have to hide anymore.

Notes:

It was so hard to end this because I didn't want anyone to get hurt. But I hope it was clear that everyone in this love triangle is flawed and there's always room for forgiveness.

Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos appreciated!