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It's a quiet, cool night in the tower, the lights dim and the TV playing some quiet show, just loud enough to be heard. Your head is relaxed against the back of the couch, eyes somewhere between said TV and the wall behind it, lost somewhere in your thoughts, thinking about nothing and everything all at once. You're not sure where every one else had gotten off to, the sun beginning to set, you assume anyways, it was a rather cloudy day, but beside you, two cushions away, sat Bob, eyes fixated on the TV. It's comfortable, easy, just the two of you and a calm night. Something you both desperately needed, that everyone in the tower needed, really.
“Aren't you cold?” His voice brings you out of your musings, bouncing around in your head as you glance around the room, processing the words spoken to you before you turn your head to look at him, scrunching your nose up in question.
“Huh?” You'd heard him, you think, but you were a bit thrown off by the sudden question.
“Aren't you… cold..?” He repeats again, looking you over, at your tank top with torn off sleeves, thread bear jacket hanging off your shoulders, zipper broken and completely missing at this point. “I mean-” He began, looking away, around the room, at the bare walls of the tower. “It looks cold in here, it doesn't really affect me anymore, y’know the whole… serum… thing…” He clears his throat as you nod, indeed knowing about the whole ‘serum thing’.
“I guess it does get pretty cold in here. I'd rather be cold than hot though.” You're not looking at him now as you speak, giving your shoulders a quick shrug as your eyes shifted around the room again, anywhere but him. You're not even sure why he's brought it up so suddenly. The both of you were sitting on the long, curved couch for nearly an hour by this point and you didn't really talk much either, with the both of you tending to be painfully awkward, usually just enjoying the quiet of another body in the room. Now that he'd said it though, you were starting to feel a chill creep along your skin, how long had you been cold for? Had Bob genuinely noticed before you did or was this an attempt at idle chatter, was he watching you?
You tug your jacket to more fully cover your shoulders and cross your arms over your chest as you sit up straighter, running your thumb nail along your bottom lip as your eyes settle back on the TV. It'd been a few seconds since Bob had said anything, his own eyes on the TV as well. “What makes you ask?” You find yourself pushing, wanting to get a peek into his mind.
He shrugs in the corner of your vision, eyes darting to look down as he begins to fuss with his hands, glancing over at you and back down again. He seemed almost bashful. “You looked cold.”
You let the subject drop, not really sure how to continue without it leading to some sob story about how this was, really, your only jacket you had. You'd been living on the streets for so long before coming to the tower that you didn't keep much clothes on you. Yelena had picked up on this and said that the next day you were both free she'd take you shopping. You were putting it off though, clothes shopping was draining, and you wouldn't know what to buy, stuck most definitely with decision paralysis. You suppose you could just get more plain black clothing. That would be simple and easy.
When the commercial break came on Bob stood and wandered off, your eyes pulling away from the TV to watch him. “Oh- okay, bye?” You muttered, mostly to yourself, not wanting to call attention to the fact you were saddened by the sudden departure. But he did that sometimes, flitting in and out of rooms, sometimes talkative and needing to be near others, sometimes quiet and distant. You frowned softly, figuring his social battery had just run its course and he needed some alone time again.
You let out a huff and tugged your knees to your chest, wishing for a throw blanket now that he was gone, taking what little warmth had seemed to be in the room with him. You were half considering getting up to grab a blanket from your room when you heard the soft pad of his feet making their way back into the room. You didn't look at him this time, in case he was just passing through. You didn't want to seem like you were watching for him, waiting for him to make his way back into your bubble.
The show was returning from its endless commercial break when you saw him approaching from the corner of your vision and then a dip in the couch, finally pulling your full gaze back to him now.
“Welcome…back?” You started, slowing the words down as you watched him stare at a lump of fabric in his hands, one of his sweaters you guessed, based on the faded design. He seemed to fidget, lips twitching as he bit the inside of his cheek before turning to face you, holding the sweater out like someone trying to pass off a baby they really didn't want to be holding.
“Here- I mean, this is for you. If you want it. I don't know if you have any heavier clothes or not but I don't really wear this one, don't really need it. I know it's not really your style but…” He trailed off, his gaze shifting around nervously from the sweater to your face, to above your head and back again. He offered one of his awkward smiles and how could you possibly say no to that. It was such a sweet gesture and you didn't really know what to make of it, what to make of the way your chest swelled and your stomach swooped.
You took it from his hands, holding it up for a minute to really look it over. “Oh- well shit, how can I say no to free clothes?” You try to say as nonchalantly as feasible. Eyes trace over the fabric. It seemed old, worn, loved, sturdier than your own falling apart jacket. It really wasn't your style, more reminiscent of something a Midwest-Emo guy might wear, but the promise of warmth, not just physical, had you tugging your jacket off and pulling the sweater over your head in its place. You smoothed your hands down the front of the new addition, pressing out any wrinkles as you looked down at it on your body. It would've been uncomfortable to wear the crew neck over top of something with a hood, none of it would've sat right against your skin, otherwise you would've just pulled it over the jacket for extra layers.
You turned to offer Bob a small smile and a quiet ‘thanks’ before your eyes moved down to watch as your hands smoothed over the fabric. Bob wore clothes that hung loose against his frame, hiding whatever figure hid beneath so the sweater nearly swallowed you whole. Maybe a slight over-dramatization, but you felt swallowed by it, worn soft by time and warm against your skin, enveloped in a scent that must've been purely Bob. Your face was growing hot, the heat seeping down your neck and as you glanced up at Bob, his own eyes darted away from you, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.
“Don't mention it.” He said softly with a quick nod and a small smile, his eyes only briefly meeting yours before darting back to the TV. You followed his gaze as you settled back into the couch, wishing more for a blanket now purely so you could hide from whatever feeling was creeping over you in the safety of even more fabric.
You hadn't noticed that Bob had sat closer to you than the first time until you readjusted your position again, always fidgeting and moving, and your knee bumped against his. You both jumped a little and looked over at each other, spooked, as you spoke at the same time. “Oh oops sorry-”
“Shit sorry I didn't uh-”
“Bob, I'm the one who bumped into you, what are you sorry about?” You cut him off before he could spiral internally about whatever it was this time. Not fully convinced he wasn't going to anyways.
“I was sitting too close, I didn't mean to get in your space.” He tried to reason, but even saying it aloud you both knew that was just silly. Apologizing was just a reflex, for both of you, and even as he said it your could tell he was embarrassed by it, looking away as he began to shift away.
“I don't mind you being in my space, I'm the one who can't sit still.” You emphasize with an intentional nudge of your knee to his, creeping your body closer to his to make up for him moving away. He gave you a small, bashful smile and you returned it, unable to look at him for too long before having to turn your attention back to the TV, once again tugging your knees to your chest.
“Feeling warmer?” He asked softly, not looking at you, his own eyes glued to whatever was happening on the show.
“Yeah, I am…” You replied just as softly.
You spent the rest of the night quietly sitting together, the sun fully setting in that time. Once it was late enough and your eyes felt heavy you stood from the couch and stretched, bones and joints making all sorts of creaking and cracking noises.
“I'm going to go uh lay down… Good night Bob.” You give him a little nod, grabbing your jacket from where it'd fallen on the couch and making your way slowly from the room.
“Night…” He replied softly, and you're sure you felt his eyes on you all the way into the darkness of the hall.
** ** ** **
In the days that followed that quiet night, the two of you seemed to simultaneously gravitate towards each other and avoid each other at all costs. Near but not near enough to talk, just near enough to exchange quick glances and nervous smiles. You were nearly always wearing his sweater unless you had to go on a mission. Even when Yelena had finally dragged you out to go shopping, making a whole thing out of it and trying to get everyone to come with, you still wore it at night in the tower.
You were glad to finally get some new clothes though, and the day out had been fun. Ava agreed to come with, John refused, Bucky was too busy, and of course Alexei was coming, he was the only one with a car. Car may have been too simple and too nice of a word for what it was. It was a new limbo, replacing the one he'd lost during the first night you'd all met. Yelena had practically dragged Bob with, saying he needed time out of the tower with his friends. He always had trouble saying no to her, you did too. Something about her big, wet, pleading eyes.
You’d returned sufficiently exhausted, close to having a meltdown, but excited about your new clothes. You'd mostly picked out mostly plain black clothes, a couple pair of joggers with the nice big cargo pockets and tie strings so you wouldn't have to deal with a belt, an oversized thick hoodie, good for harsher weather, some long sleeves, and a few fun graphic t-shirts. As well as the necessities like more socks and more boxers, those you let be fun and colorful, with prints of dinosaur bones and vintage tech. You had everything splayed out on your bed while you tore packaging and tags off of everything, your little treat for making it through the day.
There was a soft knock at you door, quiet and unsure as you threw some packaging on the floor, telling yourself you'd pick it up later. You hesitated and gave a soft sigh, you were feeling pretty tuckered out but the softness of the knock had your heart hammering, urging you to answer. And so you did, slowly and quietly making your way to the door, opening it up fully and coming face to chest with Bob. Not that you ran into him, just that the first thing you saw was his chest, your eyes needing to tilt up to meet his face. He looked concerned, like he didn't know if he should be here, or like maybe he'd knocked on the wrong door.
“Are you alright?” He asks, brows furrowing together, showing he was definitely over thinking whatever was going on inside his head right now. You tilted your own head in question, not really sure what he was alluding to.
“Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?” Your eyes searched his face, only holding eye contact for so long before you had to look away like it was physically paining you to keep it, settling your gaze on his chin instead, then his chest, his hair, trying to look like you were paying attention, which you were, you were just tired.
He shifts his weight on his feet, studying your face for a few moments before continuing. “You got really… quiet. On the ride back. I wanted to make sure…” He trailed off like he didn't know how to continue, like there were too many things he could be making sure of right now. “Make sure something didn't happen.” He seemed worried, maybe worried he did something, maybe just worried about you. As if something about the way you had acted toward the end of hanging out was so painfully familiar to him he just needed to reach out. The two of you still weren't very close, didn't know much about each other, other than what you'd gotten glimpses of inside each others darkest moments the day you'd met. His memories of that day still a little foggy.
“Oh.” You said softly, a whisper, as your body deflated. It was noticeable. They way you had started to shut down. Overstimulated and Overwhelmed, tired of being out in public, of being in normal clothing, tired of how your binder felt against your skin and the way your shoulder were starting to ache. “I'm just… tired.” You say, strained, as if there's more lurking under the surface, clawing to get out. Something about having been seen making your throat burn and your eyes water. Shit.
Bob must notice because he's crowding in closer, hand on your door frame as you take a tiny step back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You shake your head no, then nod, then shake it again, your eyes squeezing shut and your hands coming up to your face to press into your eyes. It's like a switch has flipped and your crumbling so quickly. “I don't know-” Your voice cracks and breaks, your breath hitching as you try to breathe back in slowly.
“Woah, woah, hey, uh, shit.” Bob's coming into your room now and you can feel him close, hands hovering over you like he wants to touch you, to sooth out the worried of the day, take some of that pain and exhaustion from you and set it somewhere else. “Can I touch you?” He asks, soft, quiet, unsure. His face hot at how it sounded but still an important question to ask.
You just give a little nod, not able to find your voice, but it's enough that there's a hand on your back now, rubbing softly, carefully, but it feels wrong on your skin and you wince, so does Bob, frown deepening before he leaves his hand still and steady.
It's the first time he's been in your room, he realizes, and even though it doesn't feel like the time to be snooping, he can't help the way his eyes trail around, it's messy and disorganized like his own room, but so much more bare in contents. Nothing on the walls, a desk of miscellaneous things he can't make out, shelves yet to be filled with anything, your bed big but looking so empty with your black sheets, two blankets and two, small pillows, only looking messy from the freshly strewn clothes.
“Do you want to sit?” His voice breaks through your spiraling thoughts of shame and embarrassment of having been seen like this and you nod again, pulling away from him to go and sit on the edge of your bed, tears streaking u comfortably down your face. You scrub at them with the sleeve of your worn jacket, unable to look at Bob as you tuck into yourself, making yourself as small as possible.
He sits on the floor beside you, not looking up at you per say, but close enough that he could if he wanted to. It makes you nervous, makes you want to hide more. “You can sit on the bed, I don't mind.” You say quietly, eyes focused on the floor, peeking from behind the hands that cover your face, curled into fists against your cheeks. You hated breaking down in front of people. It made you hot with shame and cold with anxiety, your body starting to tremble which only made the shame worse.
“Would that help?” He asks, voice sounding so unsure, so concerned. “Would you rather I go get Yelena? I think she's better at this kind of stuff…”
You just shake your head, not sure how to answer either question. “I don't know.” You just say, even quieter.
There's a moment of silence and then Bob is standing, he sits on the bed instead and places a hand on your back, just rests it there. “Do you know what would help?” You shake your head at his question. “What's bothering you the most right now?”
The question causes you to stall in your spiraling, makes you take a deep shaky breath in, smoother on the way out. Your ribs rattling as you force a slow inhale, and relax as you let it put slower. His hand gives a firm, rub, back and forth twice before just settling still again, warm and solid, something to focus on. It still feels uncomfortable, your skin too tight- ah. “I want to change… my clothes are too tight.” You finally speak up after a few moments, not sure really how much time has passed. Bob's hand leaves your back but he doesn't yet stand.
“Do you need me to leave?” He asks, in a way asking if what you need is to change right this very second, and if so, would you need him afterwards or should he just give you space.
You stew on it for a few minutes, hesitating as you stare at your lap. “I-” You need to change now yes, you don't really want to change in front of Bob, the thought making your stomach swoop in all sorts of funny ways you can't deal with right now, but you don't want him to leave either. “I don't know.” You say yet again. Unable to make any fucking decisions for yourself which makes you start to freak out a little again, breathing getting tight, and stilted.
“I can wait outside.” He assures, looking you over with such concern it almost hurts.
“Okay.” Is all you can muster, giving a small nod.
** ** ** **
Sure enough, when you're finally dressed in comfortable clothing and step outside your room, Bob is waiting, back pressed against the wall beside your door, pushing away as you open the door up to greet him once again. His eyes take you in, still unsure of yourself, unable to lift your eyes up further than even his shoulders, not wanting to look into his face, not wanting him to look into yours. You're wearing your usual lounge pants, soft plaid pajama pants and your newest staple, the sweater he'd given you. It only faintly still smelled like him now, a fact you didn't really want to admit made you rather sad.
You'd thought briefly about trying to sneak it back into his clothes, maybe he wouldn't notice for awhile and when he finally did, he'd assume laundry had just gotten mixed up, Alexei sometimes doing it for everyone l as one of his “dad” chores. Then he'd give it back to you and it would smell like him again. Or you'd never see it again. Which would be even worse.
“Do you still want to talk about it?” Bob asks, voice careful in that way Yelena would use when asking him the same thing. You give him a nod but pull the door to your room shut, glancing down the hall before finally back up at him.
“Can we sit on the couch? It's got a better view.” You finally ask, taking a few steps toward the living room before Bob nods and lets you lead the way. You can feel his eyes on you as you do, or maybe you're just imagining them their, either way it makes you rub the back of your neck as you walk, trying to diffuse the tension you're sure only you feel.
He sit on the couch in the corner and immediately pull your knees to your chest, hugging them tight and close as you press your back into the arm rest, tucked safely into the corner with a good view of the city skyline once again. Bob sits close enough to touch, watching you carefully as you keep your eyes past him, out into the city. He's waiting for you to start, to take the lead on whatever it is you need. When you don't, and instead start to fidget, eyes dropping down to look at him, watching his hands rest in his lap, he reaches one carefully out to you and places his finger tenderly on your arm. “What's going on?” He asks softly with your name, and it hits you you're not sure you've ever heard him call you by your name before, usually defaulting to your hero nickname, the way you'd first introduced yourself to him.
You sigh, and it all feels so silly now, so far away. “I just. Got overwhelmed…” You glance up at him, and he's watching you, watching your face, studying your expression, and it makes you nervous, makes you feel seen and raw. “It feels silly now-” You start and she just shakes his head before you continue. “Today was just. Alot. I had fun, I did. But shopping is exhausting, especially clothes shopping, and, don't get me wrong, I love Alexei, but he's so loud.” It's all spilling out of you now, your voice between a whine and a laugh at how pathetic you sound, but Bob's nodding and he has this expression that just says. ‘ Yeah, I know, I get it.’ It makes the tears come back, streaming uncomfortably down your face as you continue to go through every little thing that added up, that pushed at you, prodded at boundaries, wore you out to your bones. The way people in public looked at you, the way the cashiers voice sounded, you didn't like his tone. They made your order wrong at the place you'd gone to eat and the waitress was way too busy for you to even try to be brave about getting it fixed and you didn't say anything because you knew Yelena would and she would not be nice about it.
You're not crying anymore once you've gotten it all out, you even feel lighter now, Bob had scooted even closer, his arm had found it's way carefully over your shoulder, and the both of you were staring out at the city as he just listened.
You both sat in silence once you were done, not for terribly long, but long enough that you felt thoroughly exhausted, your head leaning onto Bob, so carefully, so tenderly, afraid if you moved too much, relaxed too much, the moment would break and he'd pull away, or you'd get caught. Not that what either of you was doing was wrong, the whole team had their tender moments. Yelena usually the instigator, cuddling with you or Bob, or sometimes on Movie nights she'd be sprawled out across three of you at once. It was comforting, loving, something you all desperately needed. But this? This was something new. Something tender.
“Feel better?” Bob finally asks, voice just above a whisper, not wanting to disrupt the quiet moment. You sigh softly and close your eyes, giving a small nod, which given where your head is, is dangerously close to nuzzling him.
“Yeah, thank you and I'm sorry-” You start, but that has Bob pulling away and you close your eyes tight, frustrated you must've ruined the moment. He doesn't go far, just places his hand firmly on your shoulder.
“Hey, no, If I'm not allowed to apologize when I get all-” His hand leaves your shoulder and you open your eyes to see him vaguely gesturing around himself. “You know. That. Then you shouldn't be sorry for being upset, or tired, or overwhelmed. I think Yelena would kick both our asses if I let that happen.” He has a small, crooked smile and you can’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head a little.
“You're right, you're right I'm-” You cut yourself off this time, piercing your lips together with a small nod before releasing them with a small pucker before speaking again. “She totally would.”
You don't hear anyone enter the room but suddenly, “What are you two doing out here all cozy?” Ava speaks up, scaring the shit out of both you and poor Bob, both of you jolting and bumping into each other while also trying to scramble away, only Bob successfully managing to stand up, you ending up on the floor as Ava laughs loudly, Yelena entering quickly to see what all the commotion is about.
“What, what did I miss?” She asks, eyes wide and darting between the three of you with a mixture of excitement and confusion.
“I think I interrupted a team bonding moment.” Ava says, shoulder still shaking in a laugh as she looks at how pathetic the both of you must've looked.
“No! No-” Bob started, eyes darting between the two of them, cheeks turning a wonderful shade of red as he seemed desperate to explain away any misunderstandings. “You didn't interrupt anything, we we're just… uh-” He looked to you, pushing yourself up off the floor and standing to your feet beside him. It wasn't like you knew what to tell them either.
“Juuust..?” Yelena tried to prompt, eyebrows raising and grin growing.
“I was having a bit of a rough night, Bob was being my free therapist for a change.” You finally interjected, a small sigh escaping through your nose as you gave an awkward smile. Heart aching slightly as Yelena and Ava's faces fell.
“Oh no, what is going on.” Yelena was quick to ask, quick to your side as well, hand on your shoulder.
“The usual.” You say with a shrug and another sigh. She gets it, gets you, and pull you into one of her crushing hugs that squeeze the air out if you. It's always comforting and grounding, the way she hugs, the way she smells. So safe and familiar. Ava is there too, hugging onto you as well, it'd be suffocating if you hadn't just released everything that'd been drowning you with Bob, Bob who was now being ushered and pulled into the forming group hug by Yelena and Ava, his smell washing over you as he did, you felt so safe and surrounded by them, it reminded you of saving Bob, of pulling him off himself and holding so tightly onto him as you all cried. But gentler, quieter, not as urgent.
The loud thudding of feet are approaching the living area and you all scramble apart, trying not to look extremely guilty as Alexei came booming in. “Oh! What is going on? What have I missed! Secret meeting?”
“No- no no no no, dad, no, we are just saying good night. It is time for bed, remember your bed time voice? Let's use that yes?” Yelena is quickly making her way over to him, hushing him as she does so.
“Well goodnight my little Thunderbolts!” He calls, too loudly still, causing you and Bob to flinch before glancing at each other with pained looks of understand and awkward laughs.
“Right. Goodnight.” You speak next, deciding to take this moment to slink back off to your room before anything else can happen.
“Night-” Bob and Ava call after you, Yelena to preoccupied lecturing Alexei about late night voice volumes.