Chapter Text
Walker’s not exactly sure how they all ended up at the pool. Well... he is, technically, but that doesn’t mean it makes any damn sense how he, specifically, got roped into this.
It started with Alexei rambling about how his Soviet knockoff super soldier serum gave him the power to “swim forever.” Naturally, everyone called bullshit. Especially Bucky, who claimed he could easily outlast Alexei in the water. One thing led to another, a bet was made, and somehow, without his explicit consent, Walker got drafted into their testosterone Olympics. Apparently, being a fellow serum-guy made him “a natural third contender.”
He would’ve declined, too. He tried to, but then Ava and Yelena convinced Bob, and had him physically pull Walker poolside. And the moment Bob's hands were on him, Walker found it suddenly, inconveniently difficult to resist.
Now, to his left, Bucky’s already stretching like he’s about to compete in the Olympics. To his right, Alexei is thumping his chest like a gorilla and muttering about “Soviet hydrodynamics.” Neither of them looks particularly sane. Then, again, he’s not really one to talk.
“Place your bets!” Ava announces from a lounge chair, with a devilish grin. “I’ve got twenty bucks on Bucky. Look at him, he’s built like a torpedo.”
Yelena scoffs loudly. “Alexei is built like a nuclear submarine. He will outlast them both. You’ll see.”
Bob, seated a little further back, shrugs when they look to him. “I guess… I’m with Walker?” His voice lilts up at the end like it’s a question, but the look he gives Walker is warm. Solidarity through obligation, maybe, but Walker will take it. He’d take anything from Bob, if he offered. Walker blushes at his own thought. God, this is getting bad, isn’t it?
“Ready!” Yelena shouts, holding up a pool noddle as a makeshift starting gun, startling Walker out of his thoughts.
“Go!” she screams, bonking it against Ava’s head with a funny sound.
The three of them dive. The splash is violent. Alexei surfaces with the grace of a collapsing bookshelf, flailing with such intensity it’s hard to tell if he’s swimming or drowning aggressively. Bucky’s streamlined, barely making a ripple. Walker, surprisingly, holds his own. Years of military training and a lifetime of trying to prove himself pay off in neat, powerful strokes.
The race is tighter than anyone expected. By the third lap, Alexei has dropped behind, now floating lazily on his back and claiming the water is “too Stark for his liking.”
“Drink chlorine, old man!” Ava shouts over her shoulder, giving Bucky a thumbs up as he swims away. She calls out to Yelena next: “Don’t forget! You owe me and Bob twenty bucks!”
Yelena scoffs. “Correction: I owe the two of you twenty bucks. Which means I can give Bob nineteen and you one. Fair division.”
“Fair my ass!” Ava snaps like she’s ready to throw hands. “You’re just mad I bet against your giant Soviet musclehead!”
But it’s the final stretch where things get real. Walker and Bucky break the surface at the same time, water trailing behind them like comets. It’s neck and neck. Bucky snarls. Walker grits his teeth. For once, he’s not thinking about legacy or redemption or living up to anything. He’s just moving, fast, focused, fun.
He touches the wall first. By almost nothing.
Yelena lets out a banshee scream of disappointment. “NO! That is NOT POSSIBLE!”
Ava throws her hands up. “WHAT?!”
Walker comes up for air, blinking through the chlorinated sting. “Did I…?”
“You won!” Bob shouts, clearly shocked but beaming, arms raised like he’s watching fireworks. “Holy shit, you actually won!”
Walker laughs, breathless, pushing his wet hair back. He glances over at Bob, still grinning. And for a second, the victory feels a little less like dumb pool antics, and a little more like something that counts.
Alexei groans from the shallow end. “It is rigged. This pool is too capitalist!” Suddenly, however, he lunges toward Bucky and Walker, sending a tidal wave of water in their direction.
Bucky snaps, “Okay, buddy,” and splashes back at Alexei, muscles glinting in the pool’s afternoon light. Walker joins in with that rare, relaxed grin. He’s actually enjoying himself. Soon, they’re locked in a gleeful assault, churning water while Alexei desperately tries to dodge, barking out threats in Russian that turn to laughter when he’s no longer splash-proof.
“Tag team!” Walker shouts, and Bucky responds with a genuine smile as Walker scoops a handful of pool water and hurls it at Alexei’s face. Alexei flails as Walker ducks to avoid the cloud of splashes he’s created, then swings around and splashes Bucky just for balance.
All three of them are laughing. Then Bucky gestures at the edge of the pool, where Yelena, Ava, and Bob are standing with towels and dry clothes. “Oh, they trying to stay dry? That’ll be fun.” Bucky grins at Walker and Alexei. “You in?”
They wink back. “You bet.”
They charge. Splashing erupts around the pool’s edge. Water jets toward Yelena, giggling like a mischievous sprite. Ava squeals in mock outrage. Bob jumps back and laughs, trying his best to keep dry, and failing completely.
The chaos reaches its peak as Yelena gives in with a battle cry, Ava cannonballs in with zero grace, and Bob, hesitant no more, jumps in feet first, sending a satisfying splash over everyone, which Walker avoids by diving.
Walker surfaces, slicking his hair back, laughing as Alexei yells about “unnecessary sneak attacks.” There’s a moment of calm, just a second, suspended in the echoing splash-and-laugh haze, and then Walker glances toward the pool steps.
Bob’s dragging himself out. Then, without fanfare, he peels it off and drops it on the tile.
And it’s like time just stops.
Walker freezes. His brain blanks. He has seen Bob shirtless before, maybe once or twice, in passing, but this hits different. Bob, standing there in the soft light, water tracing the lines of surprisingly lean muscle and solid arms, looks carved out of… bronze, maybe? Can you even carve bronze? Walker doesn’t know, but he doesn’t really care, because he can practically feel the pool water boiling around him. He sinks in until only his eyes are above water, heart thudding.
Alexei launches another splash attack and Walker uses it as cover, pretending to cough on water while actively trying to reset his entire autonomic nervous system.
He does not succeed.
Bob glances over, clueless, grinning like a golden retriever freshly soaked. “You good?”
“Yup. Fine,” Walker manages, voice cracking slightly as he stays very, very submerged.
He is not fine. Not entirely. Ava sidles up beside him with that damn grin she wears like a challenge.
“So, Walker,” she says, voice all singsong, “who knew you’d be this flustered by Bob?”
Walker shoots her a look that’s equal parts “shut up” and “please stop,” but Ava’s got zero intention of shutting up. She leans closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Come on, man, you’re practically blushing. It’s like Bob’s muscles turned your brain to mush.”
Walker clenches his jaw, suddenly very aware of the way Bob’s damp hair curls against his neck as he treads water nearby, completely unfazed by Ava’s commentary. Bob only catches the tail end and laughs, shaking his head. “You’re exaggerating. I’m not that impressive. It’s all serum, zero hard work, like you guys.”
Ava scoffs dramatically, flicking water at Bob with the back of her hand. “Excuse me, but that’s the most humblebraggy thing I’ve ever heard.”
Bob chuckles, running a hand through his soaked hair. “I’m serious. I didn’t ask to get juiced like an orange. I just… woke up one day like this.”
“That’s tragic,” Ava deadpans. “Truly heartbreaking.”
Walker cuts in, unable to stop himself. “Yeah, must be rough. You’re really suffering, huh?” His voice is dry, teasing, until the words slip out: “All those muscles and nothing to do with ‘em.”
The moment the sentence leaves his mouth, Walker wants to crawl into the chlorine-filtered depths and never return. He sinks lower into the water, praying the pool will swallow both him and his very normal comment whole.
To his left, Bob lets out a laugh, just shy of smug. He turns his head toward Walker, eyes catching the light. “Didn’t say I minded,” he says, all easy charm. But the look he gives is anything but casual. It lingers. Walker’s brain does a hard reboot.
Thankfully (miraculously) Ava doesn’t notice any of it, or if she does, she’s far too distracted to comment. Instead, she launches into a full-volume cheer for Yelena, who’s currently scrambling onto Alexei’s massive shoulders like she’s scaling a mountain. Without missing a beat, Ava swims over to Bucky and climbs up in one fluid motion, declaring war.
Walker and Bob observe the chaos together. It’s all laughter and shouting as the two duos battle it out in an overly dramatic shoulder war. Yelena windmilling with abandon while Ava cackles and clings to Bucky’s long hair to stop from falling off. She can’t, and the two of them topple into the water like dominoes.
“Should we…?” Walker nods toward the action.
Bob hums. “Wouldn’t be fair to let them have all the fun.”
Before Walker can even move to let Bob onto his shoulders, Bob makes the decision for him. With a quick breath and zero hesitation, he ducks underwater. Walker barely has time to blink before Bob resurfaces with Walker balanced on his shoulders like it’s nothing.
“Whoa!” Walker flails for a second, arms windmilling. “What the f…???”
Bob laughs, steadying Walker with strong hands at his calves. “You looked like you needed a lift!”
Walker instinctively grabs at Bob’s head and face to balance himself, fingers pressing into damp hair and flushed skin before he realizes what he’s doing. He yanks his hands back like he’s touched something scalding only to immediately wobble, arms flailing.
“Shit! Okay, nope! I… Crap!” He plants his hands right back on Bob’s shoulders, gripping tight.
Bob just chuckles, perfectly unfazed. “You good up there?”
“No,” Walker mutters, heart racing for all kinds of reasons. “Absolutely not.”
Bob starts moving them toward the rest of the group, his stride smooth and confident in the water. Walker, meanwhile, is a barely-contained disaster. Every muscle in his body is clenched in a panicked attempt to stay still, stay upright, stay normal, which feels impossible, because, well…
Because his junk is very close to Bob’s head.
Dangerously close.
Uncomfortably close.
Existential-crisis-inducing levels of close.
Walker stares resolutely ahead, jaw tight, hands gripping Bob’s shoulders like he's holding on for dear life. Do not think about it. Don’t. Think. About. It. His inner monologue is screaming.
But every slight movement jostles him, every shift of Bob’s muscles beneath his palms reminds him that he is, in fact, sitting on a person. A warm, built, ridiculously kind person with very nice shoulders and…
“Walker,” Bob says, tilting his head just slightly.
“Huh?” Walker’s voice comes out about half an octave too high.
“You’re digging your feet into my ribs.”
Walker clears his throat and adjusts. “Sorry. Sorry. Just... trying not to fall off!”
The water churns with chaotic energy as the shoulder war begins in earnest. Yelena sits confidently atop Alexei’s towering frame, already swiping at Ava, who’s perched on Bucky’s shoulders. The two of them are arguing non-stop, but somehow, they’re moving with incredible coordination. And then there’s Walker, sitting precariously on Bob’s shoulders like he’s one wrong thought away from self-combusting.
Bob’s hands grip his calves with, firm and steady as he carries him forward through the water. Every flex of Bob’s muscles under Walker’s thighs is a sharp, visceral reminder that this man is strong. And not just “can carry his own groceries” strong. No. More like a “could launch a grown man into orbit” strong, or maybe a “could bend your solid metal shield into a taco” strong. The kind of strong that’s deeply unfair when combined with the way Bob is laughing, like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.
Which is nonsense, Walker thinks. Bob has to know. He must’ve planned this. It’s psychological warfare. That’s the only explanation for how Walker feels.
Walker tries to refocus on the game, but his grip keeps tightening on Bob’s shoulders. Too much, not enough. Especially when Bob shifts beneath him, readjusting to dodge a particularly aggressive swing from Yelena. The movement knocks Walker forward slightly. His thighs squeeze reflexively, and Bob exhales sharply, maybe laughing, maybe not.
“You good up there?” Bob calls out, half-laughing, voice pitched to carry over the splashing and shouting.
“Just peachy,” Walker croaks, cheeks burning. He can feel his heartbeat in places he really shouldn’t.
“Hang on, incoming!” Bob shifts again, surging forward with a speed that knocks Ava slightly off balance on Bucky’s shoulders. Walker grabs hold of Bob’s damp hair for leverage and immediately regrets every decision in his life when Bob yelps, probably more out of surprise than pain.
“You’re trying to kill me,” Bob mutters under his breath.
Walker just chuckles. “Nah. You’re doing great.”
Yelena and Alexei, as usual, dominate the first few rounds, with Alexei barely flinching under her wild thrashing. Bob holds his own, and Walker does too, even if he’s a flustered mess the whole time. And in the middle of it, with laughter echoing off the walls and water splashing like rain, there’s a second where Walker forgets to overthink. He’s just there, high above the water, braced on the shoulders of someone who makes him feel a little less alone in the world.
…Then Ava grabs his arm and yanks the both of them into the water with her as she falls off Bucky’s shoulders.
Water roars in Walker’s ears as the world goes upside-down. He instinctively reaches out underwater. When he can’t grab ahold of anything, he tries to open his eyes. The first thing he sees (apart from Ava’s hair all over the place) is Bob’s face.
Bob’s eyes are huge, shut in wonder or surprise. It’s hard to tell underwater. His lips part like he might speak, but only bubbles tumble out. Walker can’t breathe, and not just because he’s submerged. He just stares. Sees something in Bob’s eyes there that isn’t just mischief or teasing: it’s something else. Maybe it’s trust. Maybe gratitude.
The world crashes back as they shoot to the surface, water streaming off them as they gasp. Walker’s heart pounds loud enough he’s surprised anyone else in the pool didn’t hear it.
He brushes wet hair from his face and sees Bob doing the same, eyes still locked on him. No words. No breaths. He gives Walker a smile. Teasing, almost. Yelena’s voice comes from a distance: “Hey! You two okay?” Alexei’s laugh echoes. The shoulder war has resumed.
Bob dips under the water again with practiced ease, letting Walker clamber awkwardly back into position on his shoulders. Walker’s hands find purchase on Bob’s head, shoulders, something, as he tries to steady himself. His thighs tighten around Bob’s neck for balance, and for one wild second, he swears Bob stumbles, not from the movement, but from the contact.
Walker leans down slightly, eyes flicking to make sure no one’s paying attention. The others are too busy arguing over whose turn it is to referee. It’s just them, momentarily suspended in their own current.
"Are you trying to get me flustered?" Walker mutters, low and sharp, like he’s been sitting on the question all day and it just slipped out.
Bob doesn't answer. Not at first. He just tilts his head enough so that Walker can see the glint in his eye. Mischievous, knowing, dangerous. And then, with a quiet little grin, he adjusts his grip on Walker’s calves and squeezes. Just slightly. Just enough.
Maybe.
The word isn't said, but it's heard all the same. Loud and clear.
Just as Ava and Yelena begin climbing onto their human stilts for the next chaotic round, the heavy doors to the pool area screech open with ominous finality.
“Unbelievable,” Valentina says, arms crossed, eyes hidden behind sunglasses that she does not remove, despite being very much indoors.
Mel, right behind her, stifles a chuckle. Valentina is only disappointed. “You had one thing to remember,” she says, voice sharp and dry. “One briefing. One rooftop. One afternoon. And yet here we are,” She doesn’t wait for a response. “Ten minutes. Rooftop. Clothes on. Dignity semi-restored. Move. And if anyone one of you smells like rancid pool water…”
Valentina doesn’t finish the threat before walking off. Mel sighs and walks further in, tone gentler. “I left towels and your clothes in the dressing rooms. You’ve got just enough time to rinse off and pretend you weren’t cannonballing instead of mission prepping.”
Yelena mutters, “I was winning,” under her breath. Bucky and Ava don’t even pretend to be sorry. Alexei tilts his head. “Guess recess is over.” Walker exhales through his nose. “It was recess?”
The group drags themselves out of the pool with all the enthusiasm of wet cats. Yelena and Ava peel off toward the women’s dressing room, still bickering about who won the shoulder wars. Their laughter echoes down the hallway.
Alexei, Bucky, Bob, and Walker head into the men’s side. The locker room’s empty, cool tile underfoot, fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, sterile, but oddly familiar. Within seconds, they’ve filled the space with the low hum of banter. Alexei’s still grumbling that he was “clearly robbed” in the swim-off, while Bucky insists Bob should’ve participated as well because he also got a serum, even if not a super-soldier one. Bob shrugs like it’s a compliment and gets a high-five from Walker anyway.
They swap stories, locker rooms in schools, barracks, makeshift showers in war zones. The nostalgia is weirdly comforting. Walker laughs too easily at Bob’s dry one-liners, but not enough for anyone to call him out. For a moment, everything feels normal. Easy.
Then someone glances at the time, and the spell breaks. The guys start splitting off into individual stalls, the conversation tapering into half-finished sentences and quiet chuckles. The sound of running water fills the air, followed by the low hiss of steam curling upward. Alexei hums an old Russian tune under his breath, just audible over the shower hiss. Walker stands under the spray a beat longer than he needs to, just letting it all settle.
Walker peels off his trunks, tosses them over the divider, and steps under the spray. The water is scalding at first, but he lets it hit his shoulders, run down his back, hoping it’ll quiet the hum just behind his eyes. But it doesn’t.
Just one stall over, the soft splash of water tells him Bob’s there too. Showering. Normal. Innocent.
And Walker… well, Walker is not thinking innocent thoughts.
He doesn’t mean to. It just happens. The idea creeps in, quiet and stupid. What if I just looked? Just a glance? What if I stepped in, made it a joke? What if…?
He shuts his eyes, leans forward against the tile. The wall’s cool, and he exhales against it like it’ll somehow put out the slow burn under his skin.
God, get a grip.
He’s not that guy. And yet.
From the other side, Bob hums something familiar. He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he doesn’t want to stop, either. He bangs his head softly against the tile once. Twice. Three times. “Pull it together,” he whispers under his breath. But the thoughts don’t leave. Not really.
Walker’s the last one out of the stalls. He takes his time toweling off, willing the redness in his face to pass for steam and not something far more humiliating. By the time he’s dressed, the others are already gone.
He steps into the hallway expecting to be alone.
He’s not.
Bob and Yelena are there, leaning against the wall like they’d never left. Their clothes are simple, black tactical slacks, dark T-shirts, the kind of "casual uniform" Valentina insists on when she’s pretending this team is normal, but their hair is still damp, curling slightly at the ends, and both of their faces are flushed from the heat and leftover laughter.
Yelena spots him first. “Finally,” she says, nudging Bob lightly with her elbow. “We were starting to think you drowned.”
Bob smiles at him, eyes soft. “Hey,” he says, and it’s so simple, so normal, that it hits Walker in the chest.
Walker exhales and smiles back, hesitant at first, then easier. Genuine.
“Thanks for waiting,” he says, voice a bit rough. “You didn’t have to.”
Bob shrugs. “Didn’t want you walking up to the rooftop looking like a drowned rat alone.”
Yelena grins. “Besides, we need someone to blame if we’re late.”
They fall into step together, the quiet click of their boots on tile the only sound for a moment. Walker doesn’t say anything, but his chest feels a little lighter.