Chapter Text
You began to shift slowly out of bed, careful not to stir Bob beside you. There was a sweet soreness to every movement; it echoed in every place he’d touched, kissed, claimed. You let your legs hang off the side of the bed for a moment, body laid bare underneath the beams of light. The air was warm on your sun kissed skin, and that warm fuzzy feeling furrowed inside you too.
You stood up and padded along the cold wood floor towards the bathroom. Your thighs brushed together with each step — still unclean from last night. The memory made your breath stutter, feeling every phantom feeling of him.
You clicked the door behind you and reached beside you to click on the lights. The morning seeped through the frosted window and mingled with the faint pale lights above.
You leaned against the sink and stared at the wrecked reflection before you. Your hair was a complete mess, tousled each and every way. You titled your head, revealing the splotches dotted in light red down the curve of your throat. You could still feel the faint heat of his tongue down your throat, the way it travelled down from your collarbone to the cusp of your breast. You raised a soft finger to the mark; it felt no different, but the heat that curled in the depths of your stomach told you all you needed to know.
You reached for the shower knob and twisted it. The pipes groaned before warm water began to stream down, steam already starting to fog the mirror.
The water hit your sore muscles like a salve; it travelled down the most bruised parts of you and coated you in warm showers of relief. You rolled your aching shoulders under its touch and began to rub yesterday's grime off. You leaned forward and let your head fall under its heavy downpour.
For a few quiet seconds, you just stood there, letting it all rush over you, before grabbing a few pumps of soap and lathering your fatigued body. You watched the water pool at your feet before swirling down the drain with a gurgle. You ran your soapy hands over your arms, your legs, across your stomach; feeling each ripple of scars and each new memory etched into your skin. The scent of him hadn’t washed away, not that you wanted it to.
You titled your face up to the stream, feeling the sharp spray slap across your face, but even the water couldn’t wash away the lingering feelings of yesterday. You heard the bathroom door creak open slightly and angled your head to the door.
“Hey,” Bob’s voice came gently from the other side of the glass. “Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
“I’m okay, just needed a rinse,” you called back, letting your fingers trail down your body. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t,” he said, “I couldn’t stay in bed without you.”
You reached for the glass door, sliding it open just a few inches, and watched the steam rush out in a swirl. “Did you want to join me?” You peeked around the edge and met his eyes. “I’m sure you’re just as dirty as me.”
His brows lifted in response, his gaze raking across your body. “Oh, uh—yes. Yes I would.”
You stepped aside and turned around to continue washing your body. For a moment, he didn’t touch you; he simply stood behind you. You could feel the heat of him, the way the rhythm of your own breathing changed. His hand came to rest gently on your hip. You let yourself lean back against him, your wet skin sliding against his as his arms came around you. He was so warm, his chin brushing the top of your shoulder as he exhaled against your neck.
“If you’re feeling better today, I was thinking we could start on the garden.”
You turned in his arms, watching the water catch on his lashes as he looked at you. His hair was darkened with water, straightening across his face at the ends.
You reached up and ran your thumb across his cheekbone. “That sounds great.”
Bobs eyes softened as you spoke, a smile peeking at the corners of his mouth. He leaned down, the only sound between you was the soft rhythm of water falling. He gave a soft kiss to your head before reaching for the soap beside you. He squeezed a dot on his hands before lathering it on his hands.
“Turn around.”
You did, slowly, and let your eyes fall shut as his hands touched your back. His fingers moved with gentle pressure, the pads of them tracing suds along the curve of your spine. “You always take care of everyone else,” he said quietly. “I wanted to take care of you.” He moved lower, kneeling slightly to run his hands down your calves. When he rose, he pressed a soft kiss between your shoulder blades.
You turned again to face him, lifting your hand to his chest. “Let me?”
He nodded. You took the soap and began to work it into his skin, your touch as slow as his had been. As you rinsed him off, he caught your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your fingers.
Bob reached past you and turned the knob off. He grabbed two towels from the hook and handed you one. You wrapped it around your body, and watched as he draped his own towel around his hips.
You followed him out the bathroom, and walked to your wardrobe as he reached in his bag to grab his own clothes. You tugged on a pair of soft cotton underwear along with a comfortable bra before rummaging around for more clothes. Eventually, you landed on a simple black tank top, along with a well-worn pair of denim jeans.
Bob passed behind you, brushing a hand against your lower back as he moved toward the desk. You glanced at him in the mirror as you buttoned the soft flannel shirt halfway up. You tugged a pair of socks on before slipping on your boots.
When you looked up, Bob was watching you. His jeans were only half-buttoned, his shirt still clutched in one hand.
“What?” you asked, unable to suppress the smile growing on your face.
He blinked like he’d been caught.
“Nothing,” he said. “You just look good.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’d be happier with some food in me.” He quickly pulled his shirt over his head before walking over to you and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
He finished up remarkably fast, and before you knew it, you were sat on the kitchen stool again. By the time you got into the kitchen, however, it was already bustling.
“You’re doing it wrong,” Yelena muttered, gesturing to the eggs sizzling in the pan as Walker added protein powder. You winced at the sight before feeling that familiar hungry growl in your stomach.
“I have a physique to maintain.” He shot back, adding another large scoop of white dust to his pot. Yelena rolled her eyes and grimaced at him before turning back to her tablet.
“Why not just eat powder by itself?” Alexei asked through a mouthful of cereal, the brand with all of your faces on, of course. Milk caught in his moustache before dribbling down his chin. Walker snapped his head behind him in shock, unsure how to respond to such an absurd question.
“Wait, are you just eating the powder?” Ava looked up from the cupboards below the counters with a pot in her hand.
“Yes?” Alexei responded, shrugging. Ava shook her head in disgust before turning around to shimmy herself between Bob and Walker for her own spot at the stove.
“Do you not choke?” You asked, rubbing your temple slightly as he spoke. “You’re just eating dust.”
“My throat is incredibly moist,” Alexei added, earning a unanimous groan from the rest of the team. Bucky, especially, who sat on the stool beside you as Alexei continued to try to explain himself.
“That’s disgusting,” Bucky said. “I’m talking to you as well, Walker.”
Walker put his hands up in disbelief, the spatula in his hand flinging small bits of egg. “It’s called being healthy.”
You locked eyes with Bob across the kitchen; he’d just finished setting up the coffee machine — meaning you’d have to spend another ten minutes coffee-less with the constant bickering.
Bob moved across the kitchen and opened a cupboard above Ava’s head. He rummaged around before his shoulders deflated. “Where’s the bread?”
“I finished it off this morning.” Yelena said, not tearing her eyes up from her tablet. Bob groaned before making his way over to the freezer.
“Yelena, you need to write it down on the board after you finish something,” Walker said, further scrambling his protein-eggs.
“That system is stupid,” She responded, finally tearing her gaze from the screen and taking a sip from her mug. “Why don’t we get someone to program an automatic checker-thing?” She wildly gestured with her hand as she spoke.
“Because it takes two seconds to write down.” Walker bit back, scooping his food onto a plate.
Bob handed you your mug at last, steam curling into your face as you wrapped your hands around it. You took a long sip and sighed. “Mood improved?” Bob asked, pouring himself a mug of coffee before being flagged down by Ava and Alexei for a mug.
You nodded. “Still hungry.”
“Waffles are in the toaster,” Bob responded, taking a gulp from his own mug.
You turned to look around the table and saw Bucky staring right at you, almost through you. Something churned, as if he could see everything that went down last night.
“Me and Bob are going up to the garden after breakfast, if anyone would like to help us.”
“I forgot you guys were still doing that” Ava commented, raising an eyebrow.
“It’ll be fun” You said.
“Fun is a strong word for having to carry around heavy shit all day,” Yelena muttered, but she didn’t say no.
“I’ll help,” Bucky offered with a shrug, finishing the last bite of his own breakfast. “Might as well help with what you guys spent all our money on.”
After a few more minutes of back-and-forth, everyone had agreed to help with the heavy lifting you knew you couldn’t do, especially not in the state you were in. You finished up your waffles and chugged down the remainder of your coffee before moving to the roof.
As you stepped out the elevator door and onto the rooftop, the warmth hit you like a wave. There was still a slight breeze to the air and grey clouds in the sky; you could feel the way spring was slowly turning into summer. You knew the others would be at least another fifteen minutes of eating their own breakfasts and talking between themselves.
The rooftop was still bare, albeit with the porcelain floor tiling put down. Only the mountain of boxes beside you broke the emptiness, a sight that sent a familiar knot of dread tightening in your chest – so much still to do.
You began to rummage through the boxes. With a grunt of effort, you hauled one away from the pile, dragging it towards the centre. It landed with a soft thud, and you sank down beside it, winded.
You grabbed the nearest sharp object you could and cut through the tape before tearing open the cardboard box. You couldn’t start planting without the plant beds being done. Piece by piece, you unloaded the raw wooden components onto the cool tiles, spreading them out with the instruction sheet.
Bob joined you a moment later, quietly handing over the toolbox. The two of you worked in peaceful silence for a while. The clouds shifted above you, casting soft shadows across the rooftop.
“I hope it was okay I asked the others to join us?” You said, hammering in a nail to the wood beneath it.
“No, I was going to ask myself. Between just us two?” He looked around, wincing slightly at the large pile of things still needed to be done. “This would’ve taken until next spring.”
You let yourself laugh at his words, settling your head down on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have minded if it took that long.”
“Me neither,” Bob replied, settling another piece of wood down. “But I’ll be happier knowing our little safe space is done quicker.”
You nodded, brushing sawdust from the instruction sheet to double-check your work. Perfect. Then came the familiar sound of the elevator opening behind you.
You stood and dusted your hands off. “Took you guys long enough,” you crossed your arms across your chest and smiled.
“Yeah, yeah, I still think this is a terrible idea.” Walker said, picking up another cardboard box and putting it down beside Bob with ease.
The others followed suit; grabbing a box, setting it down, tearing it open and then spending the next half hour trying to figure out the instructions and eventually putting it together.
Bob stayed close by, occasionally glancing your way to check you hadn’t overexerted yourself. When he offered water, you took it. When he brushed your back gently after you stood too fast, you didn’t pull away.
Soon enough, you had thirty raised plant beds of different sizes and shapes, just less than half of what you needed. You helped bring a few over to the placement spots that the worker had allocated for you but most of the heavy lifting was taken over by Bucky and Walker.
You stepped back to admire the rows of wood; it had created a maze of sorts, a beautiful pathway to what would eventually be a lounging space covered by green. But the work was hardly close to being finished.
With a grunt, you bent and hefted the nearest heavy bag of soil into your arms. Before you could get far, a pair of arms reached around you from behind, bracketing yours and lifting the weight out of your hands.
“You promised you’d take it easy,” Bob murmured. You hadn’t even heard him step up behind you. “Let me.”
Reluctantly, you let go and watched him walk over to the wooden plant beds. His shirt clung to his back, and you stared at the sharp definition of his back muscles. You caught Bucky’s eye as you turned, and he just raised his eyebrows knowingly.
“Alright,” Ava called. “Where do we dump this stuff?”
“Start filling from the back,” you said, pointing toward the row of larger beds near the edge. “Then work forward. The planters need to be about two-thirds full before we start mixing in compost.”
“Alright,” Yelena grabbed one of the smaller bags with a grunt. “You better feed us for this.”
“I promise that I’ll make dinner tonight,” you replied. “Nothing with protein powder.”
“Rude,” Walker grumbled, emptying his own bag into a raised bed beside Bucky. “You’ll be begging for my protein pasta by next week.”
“I’d rather starve,” Ava replied.
Soon, that became the routine. Ava and Yelena would hand over another bag of soil to Bucky, Walker, and Alexei, who would pour it into the plant bed. Every hand over was filled with bickering.
You and Bob stayed off to the side, preparing the manure along with readying the already grown plants to be planted into new soil. Sweat clung to your forehead, and dampened your shirt in patches.
“You okay?” Bob asked, lifting his head up from detaching the chunks of soil from the roots of a plant.
“Yeah, thanks,” you tugged your flannel off, the muggy air having got to you. You’d never wished more to be a super soldier than now.
“Thanks for what?”
“For keeping an eye on me,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Even when I pretend I don’t need it.”
His expression softened. “I don’t mind looking after the person I care about.”
You shot him a smile before returning to the manure in your hands, breaking the big clumps down as much as you could before carrying the first tub over beside Bucky’s legs.
By the time the last bed had been filled with soil, manure and a large chunk of plants, the rooftop smelled like earth. You stood at the edge, your boots caked with dirt, hands resting on your hips, your chest rising and falling with fatigue.
Behind you, the others sprawled across the rooftop in various states of exhaustion. Yelena sat cross-legged on an empty soil bag, glaring at her filthy nails. While Ava had collapsed onto the patch of fake turf you’d yet to lay out.
You could hear their voices talking behind you, but they’d become a pleasant sort of background noise. The kind you didn’t mind listening to forever.
“Still think it’s a terrible idea, Walker?” you called over your shoulder.
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “Doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying it while it lasts.”
You smirked and shook your head. Bob bumped his shoulder gently into yours and then you felt it, a single drop of water hit your bare arm. You looked up. The sky had thickened since you’d first come up; the sky no longer teased the threat of rain but promised it. Another drop hit your nose.
“Fuck off,” Ava groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Rain’s gonna come down hard,” Bucky said, pushing off the wall and grabbing a nearby tarp.
“We should cover what we can,” Bob said quickly. “The new soil and the compost shouldn’t get soaked.”
You helped toss tarps over the piles of compost and seed boxes, while Bob secured the edges with bricks. The first spatter of rain turned to a steady drizzle, soaking through your shirt in seconds.
Ava wiped her face, groaning loudly. “Nope. I’m out. This garden is your problem now.” Slowly, the rest trickled into the elevator as well, most of them thoroughly soaked.
Bucky gave a short nod toward you and Bob, brushing his damp hair from his eyes. “You two good?”
“Yeah,” Bob answered for you. “We’ll finish up here.”
“Alright.” Bucky turned, grabbed his jacket, and was the last to disappear behind the elevator doors.
You could see the garden start to take shape now, even through the blur of falling rain; the rows of wooden beds, the baby plants tucked safely in their new soil. You turned to face Bob, a smile plastered on both of your faces as rain kept drenching you further. Even as the rain continued heavy, and dragged down on your eyelashes, you couldn’t stop staring at him.
You laughed quietly, taking in the sight of him standing in the rain with that same wide-eyed look he always had when he looked at you, like he couldn’t believe you were real, that what was between you was real.
“You know,” you said, voice soft but steady, “I used to think this place would never feel like home again.”
Bob tilted his head. “Because of Tony?”
You nodded. “All he ever wanted was for me to be happy, he wanted Avengers tower to be mine after he died.” Bob reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. “When I left after the Sokovia accords, I thought I was leaving this all behind.”
Your throat tightened the more you let spill out. “I think he would be proud of me. Of who I’ve become.”
“He would be, and now we can grow something new, together.”
You tried to speak, but instead you laughed through the lump in your throat. “I feel like I’m in a rom-com.”
You stepped in closer, your hands sliding up his soaked chest to rest just below his collarbones. His arms circled your waist, pulling you in until there was no space between you. “I think I could spend the rest of my life, with you, like this.”
“Me too,” he responded, holding you in tight. “You don’t have to say anything back, but… I think I’ve known for a while, but it really hit me—in the shower, looking at you, at how beautiful you are. I realized I love you.”
You blinked. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the rain slipping down your cheeks. It wasn’t a word you’d allowed yourself to touch in a long time; you’d buried it beneath years of pretending you didn’t want it.
“I don’t-” you shook your head, trying to find the words. “I haven’t let myself love in a long time.” You took a breath to steady yourself. “But with you?” You met his eyes. “I love you too.”
The rain poured down harder now, flattening your hair to your cheeks, but neither of you moved. Bob reached up slowly, his fingers brushing a strand of wet hair from your face. His hand cradled your jaw as you lifted your chin to meet him. You relished in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the rain falling around you and when you finally pulled away, breathless, you rested your forehead against his. “I really love you.”