Chapter Text
Robert Reynolds was not the jealous type.
Not that he didn’t want things - he did - it’s just that, well, for a long time he had nothing. And though Bob grew up envious as any child that watched others with loving parents and thoughtful birthday parties, the feeling became easier to ignore as he grew older. Those wants were replaced with his need for a fix. When you’re operating at your lowest possible level, that need quickly spirals into an all-encompassing black hole that takes all those extra emotions - the useless ones, the ones that don’t help you get your fix - and churns it into this singular, insatiable beast. Bob didn’t recognize himself for a long time. But he did recognize that beast, hollow eyes staring back at him in the mirror with those blown, black hole pupils and that bead of sweat on his forehead that came with every high.
With that high, suddenly, wants seemed so stupid. Why had Bob ever wanted a good job, or a loving father, or that sick acoustic electric Martin guitar, when the high cured everything? It nuzzled into his brain like a warm blanket and kissed his conscience and told him that he’d never want for anything again. It seemed so silly how furious Bob had been when his high school best friend asked Lindy out to senior prom before Bob could. It ended their friendship, but the high whispered that it didn’t matter at all. The memory of Lindy and Marcus slow dancing just faded away, along with all of his other memories, washing to a place deep down where they couldn’t hurt him.
So after stuffing down those emotions for so long, it was a real shock to his brain when Bob physically couldn’t get high anymore. The first few months living with the New Avengers was like trying to learn how to be human again. His superpowers had “cured” him of his addictions, so very suddenly, his coping mechanisms were effectively flushed down the toilet - but permanently this time, unlike all the other times he’d flushed and swore off drugs.
His comfort, from then on, was the teeniest New Avenger, Yelena. It started subtle, with new inside jokes becoming a good starting point for him to talk to her. Bob didn’t know why he was so nervous around Yelena - she saved his life after all - but still, it took him all his courage one night to ask her to the movies.
Yelena lit up like a Christmas tree and pronounced yes, of course, they should all go! Bob didn’t know why, but he had intended only to go with Yelena; maybe he was tired of having to share her attention with Walker, who was always trying to impress everyone with dumb tricks like downing an entire water bottle in one go by spinning it into a vortex, or Alexei, whose booming voice quickly became Yelena’s problem when she tried to shush him during the movie for laughing too loud. And it irked him further that Ava sat on one side of Yelena, and Alexei sat on the other, so he had to sit next to a quiet Bucky, who was really no fun during movies and sat politely with his arms crossed. To make matters worse, on his other side was Walker, who talked too much during movies, and tried very hard to be funny, which effectively made him not funny at all.
Bob kept trying to listen to Ava and Yelena, who whispered and giggled sometimes, and he wondered, for some stupid reason, if they were talking about him. Or maybe, and even worse, they were talking about someone else. Bob didn’t know Yelena that well. Maybe she had a boyfriend here in New York City before she and Bob even met, and wouldn’t that be a surprise, and maybe that was why Yelena invited everyone to the movies, so it wouldn’t look like a date. He cursed himself for not having control over his powers, but then a flush of red hot embarrassment shut that line of thinking down. How invasive would that be, Bob stewed at himself, to use your powers to listen to private conversations? They’d think you’re a real creep for that, and they’d be right, that is creepy. But even still, Bob chewed on his lip, trying to catch a few words between Yelena and Ava.
This carried on for some time, until halfway through the movie, Bob realized he didn’t understand a thing that was happening. He’d not been paying attention to it in the slightest.
“You okay?” Bucky leaned over, whispering into Bob’s ear, “you’re breathing hard, do you need to get out of here?”
And for some unexplained reason, that was enough to make his nerves shoot to a whole new level. “I just need some air,” Bob breathed, standing up abruptly and sliding past his teammates with an uttered apology as Yelena and Ava pulled their legs in to let him pass.
He hurried down the dark hall and pushed the door open to the dimly lit movie theater. It still smelled like buttery warm popcorn and sanitized carpet, but no workers sat at the counter now, and it was dark enough outside that Bob could see the moon through a window as it began its climb into the sky.
Breathing hard, he pushed through the exit, knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to get back in, and fumbled in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.
It was a very stupid habit on its own - smoking made your breath and clothes smell awful, but on top of that, Bob couldn’t feel the affects of the nicotine anyway. Still, with trembling fingers, he lit a cigarette and sucked on it deeply, and the ritual of it seemed to calm his nerves almost immediately as he exhaled.
The phantom buzz of the nicotine made his skin crawl. How fascinating the human brain was, to be completely unaffected by the drug, but still have a physiological reaction to it because it knew how it was supposed to feel.
Great, now he was going to smell like smoke.
Why the hell was he so wound up? This whole night was a stupid decision. He should have never invited Yelena to the movies, and he should have never expected her to like him back. Like him back. The admittance made his heart squeeze briefly. It seemed childish to say he had a crush on her - who uses that word? But he was at a loss on how else to describe it. It couldn’t be love, they didn’t know each other that well, right? And it wasn’t lust - sure, he found Yelena very attractive, and he was as sexual as any person, but that wasn’t his goal in asking Yelena to the movies, and besides, they were sort-of coworkers and sort-of roommates, so it’s not like anything could happen anyway.
The door squeaked open behind him, and Bob whipped around to see Yelena shrugging on her hooded jacket and flashing him a hesitant smile. “Alexei was getting on my last nerve,” she said, her Russian accent thick, “do you mind if I hang out here with you?”
Bob was equal parts pleased that she was here, and embarrassed that she saw him like this. He willed his fingers to stop trembling as they held his cigarette. “Not at all,” he breathed his smoke out to the side, trying to hide his habit, but she blinked up at him expectantly with those big doe eyes.
“May I?”
Bob nodded his head, fumbling for his pack, but she instead plucked his cigarette out of his hand and brought it to her mouth. Stunned, Bob watched as her lips pursed around the cigarette. Full lips, pink and pretty and deliberate, she inhaled for a moment, her lips on the cigarette Bob’s mouth was just on.
He found himself needing to swallow.
“Do you like the movie so far?” Bob forced his eyes to look away, and instead focused on the rising moon. His voice was a lot rougher than he expected.
Yelena shrugged as she exhaled. “Eh, it’s fine, but I should’ve made Alexei sit by Walker. Then again, I think he was so thrilled about going to the movies with everyone, it’s hard to say no to his excitement, you know?”
Bob wanted to stare at her to see if she was messing with him, but he didn’t move his head. “Yeah.”
He felt her eyes on his face, but he didn’t look away from the moon. “You okay?” Yelena’s voice was a lot gentler this time, low and concerned.
Bob cringed inwardly, he’d been expecting the question. “Yeah, I’m good.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he should continue, but the faux buzz from the nicotine made him feel good, and Yelena’s small, warm presence next to him made him feel even better, and so he felt very open, in a way that he hadn’t in a long time. “Just got, uh.. Really overwhelmed in there, for some reason. Still getting used to everything, I guess.”
He was surprised at how easy it was to admit it, and she offered him his cigarette back. Bob blinked and took it between his fingers, his eyes locked with hers as he drew it to his mouth. It tasted like Yelena’s lemon flavored lip balm, and his lips probably lingered on the cigarette for longer than it needed to, and the eye contact made his neck and cheeks heat up with a warm blush. Her eyes darted to the cigarette briefly before she looked away, busying herself with the zipper of her jacket. “Yeah, it’s quite the change. But you know, you can always talk to me.”
It seemed a funny thing to say, considering Yelena saved his life by wrapping her arms around him and murmuring that he wasn’t alone. Of course he could talk to her, she cared about him, she cared about everyone on the team, but at the same time, there was this fuzzy distance between them at Bob didn’t know how to breach and he didn’t want to ruin it and become that clingy, needy person.
“Thanks,” he said quietly, offering her the cigarette again, but she shook her head.
“I shouldn’t. Haven’t smoked in awhile, I don’t want to try and be cool and then throw up.” Then she blushed, as if admitting something.
“Has that happened to you before?”
Yelena huffed, crossing her arms and looking pointedly away from Bob. “Alright, so after I.. Got my autonomy back, after awhile, I went on my first date, and he offered me a cigarette, and I’d never had one before, so I took this huge inhale, and then I threw up on his shoes.” As Yelena spoke, her cheeks blushed a bright red and she groaned at the memory. “I was trying so hard to be cool.”
For some reason, this was endearing to Bob. To him, Yelena was so cool and always knew what to do, so to imagine her so humanly anxious made his heart squeeze. With a reassuring smile, Bob asked, “what did he do?”
Yelena glanced up at Bob, flushed. “He said he had a spare pair of shoes in his car, but I waited for fifteen minutes, and he never came back.”
Bob’s smile dropped quickly, but he knew Yelena wasn’t meaning for it to be a heavy story - it was supposed to be funny, lighthearted. But all he could imagine was a nervous Yelena, unsure about her place in the world, waiting in the night for her date to return, only to be left alone, confused and a little sick.
“What an asshole.” Bob said, dropping the cigarette to crush with his shoes, a well of jealousy springing up. This guy had a chance with Yelena, who was so funny and kind and warm, and he left her without a ride home all because of one little accident. Bob would never leave her out in the dark. He imagined the situation, as silly as it was. I don’t need shoes anyway, Bob would say with a grin, toeing them off, I’ll get you some water, and don’t worry about finishing that cigarette, do you still feel sick? I can take you home.
There were earnest things Bob wanted to say to follow up. He’s a jerk, Yelena, you deserve the world. I bet he wasn’t good-looking, either. He didn’t deserve you.
“Yeah,” Yelena shrugged, “looking back on it, though, it was a real lesson for me. Why did I try so hard not to be me? If he started to like me, he’d be liking the facade anyway. How stupid, right?”
Bob shook his head fervently. “Not stupid at all, Yelena. It’s just nerves, you know? I did the same thing with Lindy. Um, high school crush.”
It was Yelena’s turn to watch his face curiously. “What happened?”
Bob considered pulling out another cigarette, but he didn’t want to turn Yelena away, and he especially didn’t want to give her the idea that he might be a chainsmoker. “She said she was in band, so I pretended like I knew guitar. So that caught up with me pretty quick.”
Yelena’s face broke into a smile, and then she laughed, a deep laugh that was funny and cute, and Bob couldn’t help but smile, too, and he wondered if he could make her laugh again. Then he realized, Yelena was totally right. Up until this point, he cringed at the past version of himself that was too cowardly to think anyone would like him if he was just himself. So he tried to be something he wasn’t, and that ultimately was what drove Lindy away.
Bob laughed now, too, and said, “you’re right, it is stupid. But want to know the funniest part about that? I was so pissed off that she started dating my high school best friend, that I taught myself guitar. I can actually play now. Not, like, a master or anything, but well enough.”
He expected her to laugh - he was hoping to hear it again - but she sobered, brows furrowing. “Your best friend did that to you?”
Then, all over again, Bob felt like a high school kid whose friends were comforting him after a betrayal, and his cheeks reddened a bit. “Ah, yeah. We didn’t speak after that.”
Yelena reached out and grasped his hand with her own. The touch was so surprising and warm, and it sent little jolts of electricity up his arms and neck. Her hand was small and soft, and she squeezed his reassuringly. His brain buzzed pleasantly at the touch. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I’m sure he looks back on it now and regrets it.”
Bob wasn’t sure, but last he knew, Lindy was living in another state and Marcus had a wife and kids. Still, the thought was a little comforting, to know that someone who had betrayed him might feel guilt over it - which was silly, because it was high school. But because his brain was shorting at her touch, all he could say was, “that’s a nice thought.”
***
Yelena Belova was a jealous person. She envied those who never went through widow training, who grew up with loving parents and friends, and never experienced what it was like to take a life before you were fifteen, or knew what it was like to hold a gun in your tiny hands and squeeze the trigger. Yelena was jealous of a great many things, actually. She was jealous of girls who went through high school and experienced their first kiss with a boy or girl they liked, who slammed lockers and ate bad cafeteria lunch and cheated on their tests. She was jealous of all the things she missed out in her childhood, like homecoming and prom and volleyball or basketball or band or debate club - when she thought about how her childhood would have been different, she imagined doing all of it. Yelena wanted to do all of it. She wanted to take the SAT and feel the nervousness of opening her scores, she wanted to know what it was like to have a tight knit friend group that you talk to even after graduating. She was jealous of people who could still talk to their siblings and call their parents. She wanted that normal life.
These were things Yelena sometimes thought about as she laid in bed, just to help her fall asleep. It was a very silly line of thinking, because even Yelena knew how romanticized it was. Still, sometimes, when she saw normal people living their normal lives, that envious bug ate at her once more, just wondering what her life might have been like.
And yet…
Yelena had to admit, after a few months with the Thunderbolts, she wouldn’t change it for the world. How funny life could be like that. You go through years of hell and torture, just to endure more years of hell and torture, oh, and by the way, your sister’s dead and your “dad” and “mom” are MIA, so have fun with that, oh, and you have no real friends and guess what, you still haven’t experienced your first love.
And then, things get better.
Even as an adult, though, Yelena felt behind in life. Which was funny, because she was an Avenger now, technically speaking. And of course she had sex before, but she’d never felt that spark that everyone talked about. She’d never experienced that in love feeling that she saw in movies, but she always wondered about it. She wondered if Natasha had a hard time understanding it, too. She wondered if it was a biproduct of the Red Room.
As she watched Bob cook, though, it gave her a funny feeling in the very pit of her stomach. It was so strange and fluttery and made her arms tingle. It made her act funny too. She’d come home after a long mission to find that Bob had made her bed for her and cooked her favorite food, and it would make her feel so peculiar that she’d find herself blushing all evening, stuttering when she’d never stuttered before, and even stumbling when she felt his eyes on her. She’d find herself unable to look into his eyes for long, but then stare at him when he wasn’t looking.
I must be going insane, she thought one evening as the team sat in the briefing room. Bucky droned on about something, but Yelena was watching the back of Bob’s neck. His hair curled a little bit at the nape, and she could smell his shampoo. It was Old Spice, she determined, but not his usual kind. He must be changing it up. She imagined running her fingers through his hair. It looked so soft and wavy, she wanted to reach out-
“Got that, Yelena?” Bucky said, and Yelena blinked, sliding her eyes to Bucky.
Everyone turned to look at her, and she flushed. “I’m sorry - I didn’t get enough sleep last night. Can you repeat?” That wasn’t untrue. She tossed and turned lately, but she couldn’t explain why.
Bucky sighed. “You and Bob will be covert for this mission. Well, mostly Bob. I need you to get information out of this man. Bob will be your backup, he’s not to engage unless you’re being threatened.”
Yelena looked at the picture of the man displayed on the wall from the projector. Handsome enough guy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, white teeth - he was a little too perfect. Yelena squinted. “Right, yes.”
They’d been discussing this mission over the week, but they couldn’t be sure who the right man was that had the information they needed. Supposedly, a Russian group trying to recreate O.X.E’s serum and were smuggling tech out of the country soon. Bucky must have finally narrowed down their target.
“Sorry,” Walker said, not sorry at all, “but why Bob? He’s not exactly stealth material. You should send Ava, or me. We both have experience there.”
Bucky shook his head. “For one thing, everyone here but Bob has been plastered on televisions. We can use makeup for Yelena, but we might be risking too much by having tow prominent members there. Secondly, Bob’s job is to stay out of the way. It’s a casual bar these guys hang out at, so it’s not a high pressure environment anyway. He’s been working with me on his powers, and I think he can handle it.”
Walker folded his arms, and Yelena saw Bob’s ears turn pink. “You think it’s less risky to send Bob than us?”
Yelena wanted to say something now, and her eyes narrowed to slits, but Bucky replied first. “If this group is close to recreating the serum - and we’re not sure if they are or aren’t - then we need someone strong enough to deal with another Sentry. Nobody else here can. Are you satisfied now, Walker?”
Walker just huffed, but Ava nodded. “I can be on standby. Upstairs, or in the next building.”
Bucky shook his head. “Sorry, Ava. The whole block is crawling with people involved in this group. We can’t risk it. It’s going to be just Bob and Yelena. Keep your comms on, though, we’ll be as close by as we can be.”
Yelena’s eyes flicked over to Bob, who was looking pointedly away from her, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. She wanted to ask how long he knew he’d be intimately involved in this plan. It was a huge step up. The whole idea of Bob being covert with her made her anxious, and her leg bounced.
The next hour was spent breaking down the plan. Yelena tried not to look at Bob. She had to focus. This plan was reliant on her, and if she fucked it up, she could get Bob in trouble, too. Possibly. It was still unclear just how invincible he was, but Yelena didn’t want to take any risks, and there was always the possibility that something might trigger the void, which was probably more important than any super soldier that might try to fight Sentry.
Bucky, however, seemed confident. The past months, Bob and Bucky trained his Sentry powers, but Yelena was never present for it. Once, when she tried to observe, Bucky stopped her at the door.
“You’d be a distraction,” Bucky said, but his voice was soft, and a little sympathetic. “Sorry, Yelena, he’s not ready for that.”
“But Walker watched yesterday,” Yelena protested, and Bucky’s expression was strange.
“Er, yes,” Bucky replied, “he was helping us with training, that’s different.”
“I can help.”
“Yelena, no. I’m sorry, but he’s not ready yet.”
It was because I don’t have superpowers. Bucky thought Bob would accidentally hurt me, Yelena lamented, and that’s why I need Bob as backup now.
By the time the plan was thoroughly broken down, it was just Bucky, Yelena, and Bob. Nobody else really needed to be privy to all the details - just where to be and when. The three filed out, yawning, but Yelena caught Bucky’s arm and held him back.
Bucky shot a glance over to Bob, who was stretching as he walked out of the conference room. “What’s wrong?”
“I can do this mission by myself,” Yelena said in a low voice, glancing over Bucky’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t put Bob at risk.”
Bucky’s face dropped into a small frown. “Is this really about Bob’s protection, or about you proving yourself?”
Yelena’s face lit up red like a tomato. “I don’t-“
“Yelena.” Bucky put a hand on her shoulder. “We all know you’re tough as nails, okay? But if something happens to you, that’s on me. I’m not saying you can’t handle it. But I want to be realistic about all possibilities.”
Yelena’s gaze dropped to the floor. Yes, it partially was about Bob. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her shoot someone in the head point blank, if it came down to that, because Yelena remembered that sight when she was a child, and she had nightmares about it for three years after.
But yeah, okay, maybe part of it was that Yelena wanted to prove herself. She was the only person on the team without super powers, and yeah, her team respected her, but it would be nice to prove she can do some things even better than they can - no superpowers needed.
However, from the way Bucky’s jaw set, she knew this wasn’t a matter to argue over. She’d just have to be perfect during the mission to prove herself, and fine. An Ex-Widow could do that.
Bucky slipped into the elevator to go upstairs, leaving Yelena to chew on her cheek, and she caught Bob’s eyes and flushed a little. Maybe she couldn’t pull off something flawlessly with Bob there.
***
Robert Reynolds dressed as a regular person attending a regular bar. Just regular guy activities. He wore jeans and dark gray hoodie, an old one that had mysterious stains on it from his time in Asia. It frayed at the cuffs and had a tear in the pocket. He blended into the bar the way rot blended into old wood.
Pool tables sat in the back, a low lit area where people smoked even though they weren’t supposed to, and the bar itself was sticky and barely lit, too.
He sat a little ways from the bar at one of the high tables, eyes trained on one of the old plasma screen televisions. It was playing baseball, but Bob wasn’t paying attention to that at all.
Yelena.
Electricity buzzed under his skin as he listened to Yelena. He listened to her heart, to her breathing. It was surprisingly calm. She sat up at the bar, wearing a long aburn wig, a high-neck white shirt and a black flannel. Thump, thump, thump, her heart beat steady and slow. It would be comforting, if it wasn’t so strange. Everyone else in the bar had hearts reacting to every little interaction, but Yelena’s never changed.
Bob didn’t know all the details about becoming a Widow, but to have such physiological control should be impossible for a human.
This was the lethal Widow that Bob heard so much about. He’d briefly seen her in action a few times, but those were chaotic and kind of blurry when he thought about it. But now, he could observe inconspicuously, and he understood the reputation behind being one. He always knew Yelena was incredible, but even Bob felt a little afraid of her, listening to her in her element.
Yelena was already talking to the target, but she did not start the conversation. He came up to her, like a fly falling into the widow’s web. When she talked, she said just enough to make him curious, but not so much that he found her dull. Her heart remained steady and sure, even as she faked a perfect American accent.
The target, a perfect 6’3 blonde guy with blue eyes and white teeth, smiled at her like a shark. Bob knew what he was thinking, even if he wasn’t telepathic. Hell, the guy said it aloud.
“You from Staten Island, sweetheart?” And Bob was sure, in his head, he was thinking, what sort of money does daddy give you?
Yelena laughed, easy and light. “Figured me out that quick, huh?”
“Yeah.” The target grinned broadly. “I can tell when you Islanders slum it here. You chose the right dump.” Bob’s jaw tightened. Even though he watched the television, he knew the guy was dragging his eyes over her clothes, lingering like Yelena belonged to him or something, like she was a piece of meat. “Justin.”
“Kayla.” Yelena introduced easily, and with the lie, her heart didn’t jump even a little.
The target beckoned over the bartender and bought Yelena a drink.
This mission was supposed to test Bob’s resolve, but as the night went on, he wondered how much resolve he was burning through. Yelena blinked her eyelashes at the target and hung on to his every word. She reached out and touched his hand, purred at his definitely-super-smart anecdotes, and laughed at his disgusting, crude jokes.
Actually, Bob wanted to punch the fuck out of this guy’s veneers. Justin kept snapping at Yelena’s fingers when she’d bring an olive to her mouth, as if to jokingly take a bite out of it. Yelena would laugh and twirl her hair, and flick condensation from her glass playfully at him. All the while, Yelena’s heart beat steady, no wobbles, no skips.
Bob’s throat felt like it was clogged up with dirt. He’d gotten a few drinks, which had no effect on him, went to the restroom a few times, and kept his eyes trained on the television. All the while, just a few feet from him, Justin kept looking at Yelena like she was already his. In fact, the way he moved, and how steady his heart was, Bob knew he was confident Yelena would go home with him.
“Don’t move, sweetheart,” Justin was saying to Yelena, leaning back and making no effort to hide the way his eyes lingered on her breasts and waist. “I’m just appreciating the view.”
Yelena took a sip of her drink. “Does that normally work for you?” The way she said it was low and inviting, like a warm purr.
Justin chuckled a fake low chuckle. “I’d like to find out with you.”
Bob was seeing red. His hand twitched on the table, and he heard Yelena’s heart jump a little.
Was she watching him as closely as he was watching her?
He relaxed his posture, but realized his frown was deeply set into his face and forced his face to relax, too. This Justin guy probably forgot the fake name Yelena gave him already.
Yelena’s heart steadied again, but then Justin spoke.
“You know,” he said casually, “you don’t sound like you’re from Staten Island.”
Yelena smiled without missing a beat. “Is that so?”
“Yeah,” Justin shrugged, that stupid smug grin always plastered on his face, “accent’s good, but I dunno, it’s not exactly Staten to me.”
The air in the bar suddenly felt thicker, tighter, and Bob couldn’t tell if it was the jealousy coiled in his stomach like an angry snake or if Justin knew who Yelena was.
“You’re on to me,” Yelena laughed, swirling her drink with her straw, “didn’t spend too many years here growing up. Went to live with an aunt in Boston in grade school. I moved back for college and have been here since.”
Justin’s piercing blue eyes did not leave her face. “Boston. That explains it. What did you major in?”
“Originally, I wanted to do criminal justice,” Yelena propped her head up with her hand as she leaned her elbow on the counter. “But then I heard we’d be doing blood spattering tests, so, that didn’t end up happening. So, yeah, I don’t have a degree either, I’m just working now.”
Yelena was good, Bob would admit. She lied so smoothly, even her heart didn’t react.
Bucky’s comm buzzed in Bob’s ear, his voice coming through urgently. “Bob, we need backup. Somethings - bzzzt in the lower west side, Alexei’s down, bzzzt right away, if you stay, you might blow her cover.”
Shit.
The thought of leaving Yelena made his stomach fall out of place, like it was made of lead. Every person playing pool, every person enjoying a drink, even the bartender - they were all in on whatever this group was doing, and he’d be leaving her alone to fend for herself.
But he imagined what Yelena would say if he didn’t go, and someone got hurt because of it. I can handle myself, she’d snap, are you insane? You could have saved Alexei!
Bob didn’t answer, but he watched Yelena out of the corner of his eye as she took a sip of her drink. Her fingers were steady and true around the glass. He pushed back from the table, his jaw clenched tightly, and stood at the end of the bar, fishing his wallet out to pay his tab.
He heard Yelena’s heart stutter as he stood up. Was she so worried about him, the way he was worried about her? Maybe she was more worried he’d blow the whole thing. Maybe she was worried he wouldn’t be there as her backup.
***
Yelena couldn’t watch Bob as he left. The door swung shut behind him, closing with a clunk. She felt the absence almost immediately - it was like a switch flipped and the bar was suddenly colder, dimmer, grimier than before. And she was more exposed than before.
But that wasn’t technically true. She was still the most dangerous thing in this bar, and that would remain true no matter who showed up.
Still, she had a mission to do. Whatever called Bob away was clearly important, so she played the part and ordered another drink to stall for time, which suddenly felt precious and fleeting. Justin’s eyes didn’t leave her face though, like he was waiting to see what she’d do.
The danger alarms were going off, but Yelena couldn’t assume he knew her identity; she bristled easily around creepy men, and she still didn’t have the information she came for.
“So, what do you do for work?” He asked, and Yelena could practically cry with relief that he brought the subject up.
She sighed, rolling her eyes as if the question bored her. “I bounce around. Nothing exciting.”
“Like what?”
“Administration stuff. Lots of phone calls.” She shrugged. “I’m bad at anything physical.”
If Yelena was right - and she always was - ditzy was the way to go. And if she could make him feel like a big strong man, well, that was a bonus. Justin’s head was too big for his shoulders, and Yelena figured just a stroke of his ego might be enough to get the information she needed.
Justin smiled. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.” After a moment, he said, “what sorta things you selling?”
She shrugged. “A lot of the equipment is medical, or so my boss says. He makes me handle inventory spreadsheets, it’s hell.”
That got Justin’s attention. “Inventory,” he echoed.
“Mm-hm.” She leaned her cheek into her palm. “I don’t even understand half of it. Tracking, storage, transfer logs. Should just buy a bunch and park it somewhere. That way we don’t have to haul shit all the time and I don’t have to update logs constantly.” She pouted like an idiot, like it was an unfair thing that products moved around.
Justin laughed. “Because then people wouldn’t make money.” He spoke like she were a child, and judging by how his eyes sparkled, he was enjoying this, being the man who knew better.
“Sure,” she said, tilting her head. “But why move stuff so much all the time? It’s just equipment. Buy more now, worry about it later. Isn’t it safer to keep a bunch of it locked up somewhere and forget about it, anyway? At least until it comes time to sell it?”
“Depends on what it is.” Justin leaned back, throwing his arms behind his head. “Some things can’t just sit, babe, some things are too valuable, or risky.”
Yelena furrowed her brow, like the concept was foreign. “Risky how?”
“Ah, ya know,” he shrugged, “temperature, security. Attention, sometimes. Like if you’re moving somethin’ you don’t want to draw too many eyes to.” Quickly, he leaned forward and added, “like banks, ya know? They move cash, buy cash, whatever. It’s not like they want to have a giant sign saying they’re moving it from one place to the next.”
“Attention’s the worst,” she agreed readily. “My company lost a whole shipment once because someone stored it too close to the city. Some assholes broke in to the warehouse overnight cause they got wind it was expensive equipment. Stole nearly thirty grand worth.”
Justin snorted. “Amateurs.”
She laughed. “Right? If it were me, I’d put it somewhere no one looks twice at. Somewhere ugly.”
“Ugly’s good,” he said without thinking.
She brightened. “See, you get it.”
Justin gloated under her gaze. “Ugly, loud, already dirty. No one questions trucks coming and going.”
“Like construction sites,” she offered.
“Or decommissioned ones,” he corrected.
She hummed thoughtfully. “Still sounds annoying to get to.”
“Not if you plan it right,” he said. “Close enough to transport routes. Far enough that the cops don’t bother patrolling there.”
She shook her head, impressed. “You talk like you’ve done this before.”
Justin smiled, pleased. “Let’s just say I’ve learned where not to keep things. There’s this spot, old substation on the edge of the city. It’s been offline since the nineties, I found it myself.” He said this with great pride, reaching out and touching her hand, as though she’d be so impressed she’d go home with him.
This was the info she needed. Yelena mapped out the city in her head. There were only a few places he could be speaking of.
“Those still exist?” Yelena wondered aloud.
“Most people forget about ‘em,” Justin said, “which is the point, yeah? Thick concrete, underground access, easy to reroute trucks without drawin’ any attention.”
The bartender made a motion, but Justin didn’t see it.
“And no one hears anything at all?” Yelena pretended to be amazed, but her time was running out. She had to steer this subject to safer matters, but he already gave away so much, Yelena was sure this situation was no longer safe.
Deftly, she clicked a button on the watch on her wrist under the bar - a signal to Bucky on a recorded line. She was certain he’d catch everything from this and already be heading over with Bob to scope out the potential sites, if whatever took Bob from the bar was finished business.
The bartender made another small motion at Justin, just small enough that Yelena barely caught it, and suddenly, Justin’s expression turned strange.
The alarm bells were on full blast. She could narrow down where the stolen O.X.E equipment was from the info he’d given her, but it was time to leave, now.
Yelena took a slow sip of her drink counting how many people were in the bar, which seemed to quiet down. The bartender was watching them now. Two men at the pool table glanced their way. The bartender sat down a drink on the bar, a little too hard, but Justin didn’t reach for it or even look for it. Yelena imagined the bartender had a gun concealed beneath the bar on his side. The two men at the pool tables probably had guns, too. Justin - well, she couldn’t see one on him, but he could still have a small pistol concealed somewhere in his baggy jacket.
Of course, Yelena knew there was a chance that she was spotted as an agent immediately. But having her cover blown didn’t mean she had to give up on gathering information. Based on the wolfish look on Justin’s face, though, she suspected they always knew. They must’ve had a shipment prepared to go out soon, if they were so jumpy they expected undercover agents to swarm the place.
The knife concealed in her jacket felt warm pressed against her side.
Justin straightened, scanning the room casually. “You know,” he said, “my friends might want to meet you.”
Fuck. She really didn’t want to kill everyone in this bar tonight.
Yelena smiled, sweet and apologetic. “I’m not great with groups.” What she really wanted to say was, unless you all want to die tonight, I’d think twice.
Justin’s hand closed around her wrist tightly, his accent now Russian. “That’s okay. They’re very understanding. Especially when it comes to sharing a pretty girl.” Yelena staggered as he yanked her forward. “Thought there was a chance you weren’t a fed, but had to see if it was true. Your lips are too pretty to pass up on a hunch. Though, if you sent any fed friends to check out those substations, you should know, they’re filled to the teeth with bombs. They’ll be tripped and dead in seconds. And we’ll be long gone by the time they come to investigate.”
Yelena gritted her teeth. “You underestimate my friends.”
Three things happened in sequence: Yelena drew her knife with her left hand, the bartender flashed a gun from underneath the bar, and Justin’s own knife glinted in his hand near her stomach.
Widow instincts lit up in her like flipping a switch, her muscles tensing, knowing what to do before even Yelena knew. She sliced upward with her knife, earning a yelp from Justin as it slashed his forearm open.
A click from the bartender, and Yelena knew a full shootout was moments away. She drove into Justin’s chest, earning an oof of surprise as she shielded herself with his bulk from the two other gunmen near the pool table. The bartender fired, the first shot shattering a glass poster frame on the wall, and the second shot close enough that Yelena felt the heat from the bullet whiz over her.
Ducking, Yelena hooked Justin’s arm, muscles bunched and ready to flip him, but she felt a sudden burning feeling in her thigh. It was familiar in an awful sort of way. Adrenline ran high, but when she looked down, she saw his knife embedded there, buried to the hilt. She was too high on adrenaline to feel the sting quite yet, just a burning sensation, so she had to act fast before the pain caught up.
I must be rusty.
Kicking his knee sideways, she wrenched free, blood slicking her leg as she dropped low and rolled behind a table. Wood splintered above her as another gun fired, and Yelena clutched her knife tightly, the gunfire ringing in her ears as she pulled the other knife out of her thigh with a pained grunt. Blood streamed freely from the wound, but it wasn’t an artery wound. It began to sting like hell, though, and her breaths came a little more quickly.
Twisting on to one knee, she peeked out of cover for a split second to hurl the bloodied knife. It struck the bartender’s shoulder, just above his collar bone, earning a scream. Justin staggered to his feet, and Yelena took the moment to feign another knife throw, to which both of the gunmen near the pool tables ducked at.
She vaulted over the table, the pain in her thigh searing through to her bone, and with a twist, pulled both men to the ground.
Then, she heard a gun click from the bar. Justin stood with the bartender’s gun, forearm spurting blood, a frenzied rage in his eyes. “Who do you work for,” he snarled, taking three large strides and yanking Yelena by the hair. Her auburn wig tore free, so he ripped away at the hair net next, fingers tangling in her real hair and hauling her up to her feet. Her leg gave out though, blood seeping through, and she stumbled back to the floor.
Yelena exhaled slowly through her nose. She hoped Bob wouldn’t be here to see the remains of the men in this bar.
The lights flickered strangely, once, then twice. That’s odd, Yelena thought, and a tingling sensation raised the hair on her arms.
A sudden gust of wind shattered the widows. Yelena ducked from the blast, covering her eyes, but a navy cape snapping before her shielded the glass. Sentry stood above her, his hand gripped tightly around Justin’s throat, lifting him off of the ground.
Without looking, Sentry flung his other hand outward. The remaining men rose too, dragged off their feet by nothing visible, hands clawing uselessly at their own necks as telepathic pressure crushed their windpipes. Guns clattered uselessly to the floor.
Yelena pushed herself upright, dazed, and grabbed Sentry’s arm, but he didn’t seem to notice. His face was contorted into an infuriated scowl as he held Justin up high, whose face was turning red.
“I had to watch you all night,” Sentry snarled, the color in his eyes fading to black, and where his pupils were, white pinpricks shone, “putting your hands on her, demeaning her. Now you hurt her.” His voice was dual-toned, like the Void scratched just underneath the surface, eager to come out.
Justin’s face went from red to purple.
“I will do the same to you.”
“Sentry,” Yelena said, pulling on his arm harder, but he did not respond. Justin convulsed in the air, his eyes bulging, and Yelena pulled harder, but Sentry didn’t move, his pinprick eyes watching the color change in his target’s face. “Bob, hey. Look at me.”
If she was honest, regarding Justin and his friends, well… she’d killed far better people for far less. But she didn’t want Bob to return to himself later and think about the corpses piled up from Sentry’s hands. It was hard when she had to do it in the Red Room. Sparing him from that, at least a little while longer, would be worth it.
She stepped into Sentry’s field of vision, wincing as her leg buckled. Pain flared hot and deep, and she hissed despite herself.
Sentry’s head snapped toward her. In the same instant, he dropped everyone, whose bodies slumped to the floor, unconscious - or possibly already dead. “Yelena,” his eyes flared gold once more, the blackness vanishing, and he braced her waist with a large, steady hand. “You’re bleeding - are you okay?”
Yelena nodded, sighing in relief at his warm eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’ve had worse,” she said, wincing, and Sentry’s eyes dropped to her thigh, to the blood soaking through her jeans, and he inhaled sharply. Maybe she was a little lightheaded, but she couldn’t tell if that was blood loss or proximity. They were close, and his large hand was warm on her side, and for some reason, it made the hair on her neck prickle pleasantly, despite the stab wound in her thigh.
“That’s a lot of blood.”
“No need to panic, I came prepared,” Yelena nodded to where her purse hung off the bar chair, and Sentry followed her eyes and nodded.
“I’m going to move you.” Before she could protest, one of his hands slid around the back of her thigh and the other hand cupped her hip, and he lifted her very carefully, carrying her to a booth table. Yelena blushed furiously, because he was slotted between her legs as he set her down, his hand close to her ass and his chest pressed to hers.
She should be more concerned about the stab wound, but she’s had worse, and frankly, the distance between them was much more interesting.
It only lasted a second, though, as he moved to grab her purse and rifle through it, pulling out a mini med pack and tossing aside what he didn’t need. She put her hands behind her, leaning on them and watching his fingers move.
Bob liked to stitch Yelena up in the tower after missions. He said it made him feel useful, and he was getting quite good at it. Now, though, towering over her as Sentry, all she could do was blush and watch as his hands moved to her jeans. “I’ve gotta tear this, but your pants are already ruined, so I hope that’s okay,” he said apologetically, and with careful fingers, he pried the seams apart like they were nothing.
“It’s fine. Ripped jeans are making a comeback. Not now, but maybe in a few years.” He smiled, but didn’t look up at her as he focused, the jean fabric parting under his fingers as easily as paper.
Carefully, he pried the pant leg open around her wound, and she sucked in a sharp breath at the movement. He looked up immediately.
“Tell me if you need a break.”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “Widows train for a lot worse.”
The wound weeped blood freely, and it all but soaked her thigh, but it didn’t seem to phase Sentry. He cleaned the wound off first with an antiseptic with careful hands. Yelena did have a high pain tolerance, because in the Red Room, you were expected to be able to withstand most methods of torture. Girls who caved to their trauma were killed. But to mentally get to a state like that, she had to really focus, and it was hard to focus with Sentry touching her skin.
When he began stitching, she shuddered.
He froze instantly. “Yelena?”
Yelena didn’t know how to say, It’s not cause it feels bad, it’s because you’re touching my skin, so all she said was, “I’m okay. The cops will be here soon, so we need to be gone before that.”
So Sentry worked, his hands steady and careful, and finally when he tied off the thread and wrapped her thigh securely, she sighed in relief.
He stood back, and the distance between them felt cold.
“You’re getting really good at that,” Yelena said quietly, studying her leg, “you would’ve been an amazing EMT.”
Sentry flashed her a smile, and shrugged. “Eh, I learned from a good teacher.”
Yelena peeked behind him, and noticed Justin was shifting. Sentry followed her eyes, and then tensed up. For a moment, Sentry’s face contorted into something so angry that Yelena thought he might actually snap his neck and kill him, but instead, he vanished and reappered and when he came back, all men were cuffed to a small railing on the bar.
“There.” His eyes were narrowed slits, and his fingers were trembling a little, so Yelena reached out and threaded her fingers in his.
He jolted a little, looking down at their hands, and then at her. “Trust me,” she said, “it’s better to leave a mess like this to cops, since we do their entire job, anyway.”
He chuckled at that, squeezing her hand. “Ready to go?”
Yelena hesitated, not exactly sure what he meant, but she nodded. He slid his arms under her legs and behind her back, lifting her gently, and out the broken windows he stepped. They rose into the open air, the city dropping away beneath them, and Yelena forgot how to breathe as she watched it. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his suit instinctively.
His cape billowed behind them as he flew to the tower, but slow enough that the wind didn’t rush so loudly against her ears, and Yelena reached up and brushed her fingers through a cloud hanging overhead, the icy droplets slicking her skin.
“This is incredible,” she breathed, eyes round with wonder as she gazed out to the city below, and rested her head back against his shoulder.
“Yeah?” He said quietly, his eyes on her face. She kept her eyes on the view, the grid streets of New York, the neon lights dancing from downtown billboards and the hum of traffic, but while she watched the city, he watched her. Yelena wondered if he could see how fiercely she blushed, or how her skin raised as the warm breath from his nose brushed her neck. She shifted carefully, adjusting her injured leg, and Bob responded instantly, repositioning his hold without being asked.
After a few quiet moments, she said, “you came back for me. Back there.”
There was a pause. “I was already on my way.” Then, there was another pause, and Yelena knew he was lying as she looked out at central park below them. She felt braver when she wasn’t looking into his eyes.
“That’s not true,” she said softly.
He exhaled, his breath ghosting warm against her hair. “Bucky called me away, that group set off some sort of explosive trap. That’s why I left. But I made sure to listen to your heartbeat the whole time, so when you got hurt, I knew something was wrong.”
“You know I can handle myself,” she looked at his face now, her words coming out a little more defensively than she hoped they would. “I could have been stabbed all over my body and still killed them all and walked back to the tower.”
She saw the gold flicker in his eyes, and he looked away from her face to the horizon. “I know.”
“Do you?” she pressed, “just because I’m - I’m not like the rest of you guys, with powers and all that, doesn’t mean I can’t handle my own.”
Sentry didn’t answer right away, but when he did speak, his voice was low and sincere. “Of course I know you’re capable, Yelena. But that’s not what scares me.”
“Then what does?”
“That you’ll get hurt and tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you don’t matter. And you’ll tell yourself enough times that you really believe it. And maybe this wound today won’t kill you, but the one you take for someone else will, because you’ve told yourself so many times that you’re only worth a sacrifice.” His words spilled out quickly. “If you keep telling yourself that all you’re ever good for is a sacrifice, Yelena, then you’ll start to look for reasons to sacrifice yourself. That’s what I’m scared of.”
Yelena looked away, feeling something tight in her chest. He was so earnest and raw that it touched the strings of Yelena’s heart, and she didn’t know what to say, but she was choked up enough that she didn’t trust herself to speak, anyway.
They descended as the tower drew closer, and Yelena actually felt a sad pang that the flight was coming to an end as they touched down gently on the landing platform. He didn’t set her down right away, though. He waited until she shifted, clearly ready, before easing her back on to her feet, hands lingering to ensure she was steady. Yelena wasn’t sure what to call this feeling of his hand on her lower back, but it was such a protective gesture that her legs felt weaker than when she was bleeding out.
“That, and,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, “I do hate seeing you hurt.”
Impulsively, Yelena leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I hate seeing you hurt, too.”
***
Sentry’s cheek tingled pleasantly from where Yelena kissed him. He held a steady arm out for her as she limped unsteadily to her room, matching her pace and careful not to rush her. He wanted to insist on carrying her, but she sounded so hurt by the idea that he and the others thought she couldn’t handle herself, so he didn’t push it and risk seeming overbearing.
At this hour, the tower was hushed and dark. He was sure Ava and Alexei were back, but Walker and Bucky were probably still out on cleanup duty. Their footsteps echoed softly against the floor, Sentry’s much louder than Yelena’s.
When they reached her door, Yelena slowed and let go of his arm. The loss of her warmth was immediate. It felt oddly sharp. She steadied herself, fingers brushing the wall, then turned to face him.
“Thanks,” she said, “for everything, tonight.”
Sentry knew that was hard for her to say because Yelena was stubborn enough to insist she didn’t need to be saved. And she didn’t need to be saved. But maybe he liked doing it anyway.
“I should be thanking you. After Bucky got your signal, we found the cache pretty quick. No more O.X.E shit floating out there. They’re working on destroying it now.”
Yelena flashed a smile at him, crossing her arms. “See? We make a pretty great team.”
He smiled, too. “Yeah, we do.”
For a moment neither of them moved. The space between them felt charged, like the both of them wanted to say something more. Sentry shifted his weight, hands curling and uncurling at his sides. He racked his brain for an excuse to keep talking to her longer. Maybe he could tell her he wants her to stay with him tonight so he can keep an eye on her leg. That was plausible, right?
“Goodnight, Yelena,” he said finally.
“Goodnight, Bob.”
She slipped inside her room and the door slid shut with a soft hiss, leaving him alone in the corridor. Bob stood there a second longer than necessary, staring at the seam where the door met the wall, listening out of habit to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beyond it. Only when it remained calm did he turn away.
His own room welcomed him with quiet peace. Mel liked to hire a cleaning service to stop by every now and then, and his room smelled of fresh sheets and clean carpet. So, to avoid dirtying the carpet, he floated over to his bathroom to strip down, starting with the boots and peeling the gold off.
For some reason, he felt profoundly disappointed at the night, but he also felt that tingle of exhilaration. On one hand, it felt such a shame to leave Yelena at her door. On the other hand, she kissed his cheek. He got to carry her to the Watchtower. He -
Thump, thump, thump-thump.
Like a zap of lightning shot through him, he straightened, listening closely and honing in on everyone in the tower. Ava slept, always fitfully, but her heart beat steady. Alexei snored so loudly that Bob couldn’t hear his heart. Yelena -
Yelena’s heart was beating faster, and Bob, fully naked, stood frozen in his bathroom. She could be in trouble, her leg could be hurting her, he thought with panic, squinting as he focused on the sound, and then he heard a low buzz accompany it.
For a few moments, Bob struggled to parse what this meant, but then he heard a small moan after a few moments, and his entire body seemed to turn pink with a blush.
His dick jumped, and he immediately unfocused his hearing, glancing at himself in the mirror. His hair was brown again, but his gold-ringed pupils were blown black and his chest was heaving.
Wow, he was breathing hard.
The physiological response that Bob had to that was stronger than he had when shielding Alexei from a dynamite blast today.
Squeezing his eyes shut in shame, he focused on her again, but this time, he focused hard enough to map out a mental image. The sheets rustled around her legs, and the buzz was pressed just a bit higher than her thigh.
This was wrong. It was private, and what would Yelena say if she ever found out about it?
His dick was so hard it hurt. Grasping it, he tugged on it experimentally as he listened. Maybe she was just shaving, that could happen. But another little moan escaped from her room, and he knew she was pleasuring herself, and the ripple of pleasure that he felt spread from his head to his toes.
What did her vibrator look like? What did she look like? He was gasping now, so flustered that his body was practically shaking. Stroking faster, Bob imagined the sheets tangled around her legs, her injured leg propped up with a pillow and the other laid gently to the side for better access. He imagined her spare hand running up and down her thigh as her other hand held the vibrator to her clit, finding that right spot that felt so good and keeping it there.
He wondered when she bought the vibrator, and what made her use it right after the mission, and that made him blush all the way from his face to his neck. Bob’s hearing was so zeroed in on Yelena that he could hear her little puffs of breath, her heart, the rustle of her sheets, and the way her free hand slid on her thigh. That hand slid further down, and the accompanying sound was wet as her fingers pushed between her legs, curling inside of herself. The sound that she made was a sort of muffled gasp. Every inch of Bob’s skin was on fire.
He had to turn his hearing off. He had to. It was a betrayal of her trust to listen to her like this, but Bob’s body was reacting in such a way that made it difficult to focus on anything but Yelena. As she fingered herself, Bob quickened his pace to follow hers, and he hated himself for what he was doing, for how desperately his body wanted her, and the wet sound of her fingers sliding in and out made him drop to his knees, his dick so hard it strained against his hand, and pretty soon, his hips were moving, too.
And when Yelena’s hands seemed to seize up, Bob was so close he was seeing stars, and then she whimpered.
Oh my god.
Bob came so hard that he doubled over, his hips jerking into his hand and his forehead on the tile of the bathroom floor as Yelena curled her fingers, her hips tensing enough that he heard the sheets move around her. The image of her hips rolling made Bob let out a long, low groan as his dick spurted white lines onto the black tile.
His high lasted a blissful few seconds, and he stroked himself through it, toes curling and skin prickled with goosebumps. His mouth watered when he thought about Yelena like this. What he would do to taste her, to smell her, to kiss her - Bob had never felt like this before in his life. He felt feral as he came to his senses, his chest heaving as the pleasure from the orgasm ebbed.
And when he leaned back on his knees, his body was trembling from the orgasm.
The shame that accompanied his post-orgasm clarity hit him like a truck, and with his dick still in one hand, he smoothed his face over with his other hand.
Fuck.
Yelena’s heart was slowing now, the vibrator turned off, and her breathing coming in satisfied pants.
The preening part of his mind said, did that feel good, Yelena? You deserve to feel good. I’d love to make you feel good, to worship you, I’d gladly eat you out with no strings attached, I just want a taste. I don’t care if I don’t cum, I just want to see you cum.
He shushed it immediately, his skin on fire as he staggered to his feet, his mess on the floor shameful evidence that he’d betrayed her trust. And there was a lot of evidence. He cringed and, with his superspeed, cleaned the floor thoroughly, scrubbing every grout line until the bathroom smelled like lemon-scented cleaner.
I am a horrible person, Bob thought, his throat closing up, I’m so-
Yelena’s heartbeat picked back up as she shifted, swinging her legs to the side of the bed, and Bob heard a hiss of pain. His thoughts derailed as he listened carefully. Yelena cursed something in Russian, her hands sliding on the gauze before she staggered to her feet. Her heart was pounding, it must’ve been from the pain.
Bob’s face fell into a concerned scowl as he hovered in his bathroom. She limped heavily to her own bathroom, and with a squeak, her shower turned on.
Shower, yeah. That’s a good idea.
Bob copied her, turning on his own shower to the hottest it could go and sliding in. His bulletproof skin meant that heat didn’t bother him so much, and right now, he wanted to burn off all of his sins.
As he scrubbed, he listened to Yelena, waiting for her to shower, but she was padding around in the bathroom. He shampooed his hair and waited. She still didn’t get in, but the walking stopped. He scrubbed his whole body with an exfoliator rag, and still, she didn’t get in. He scrubbed his toes, his pits, all his crevices, and still, nothing.
Then, he heard yelp.
”Fuck!”
Bob was out of the shower in an instant, drying himself off with a supersonic shake, throwing on whatever clothes he could first find, and materializing outside of Yelena’s private bathroom door. His heart was pounding in his chest, and for an insane second, he thought someone might have broken in to her bathroom.
He knocked urgently. “Yelena? Is everything okay?”
There was a moment of tense silence, but then her strangled voice came above the sound of the shower. “Bob? Yeah I’m - my stitches popped and I’m trying to take the gauze off without pulling anything else out.”
Bob let out a shaky breath of relief, resting his forehead against the door. “…Do you need help?”
There was another moment of silence, then a rustling. “Um… yeah, I do. I’m mostly dressed.”
“Okay, I’m coming in.”
“It’s unlocked.”
Bob opened the door, pushing it open carefully. Yelena sat on the counter, only in a white t-shirt and black underwear, and Bob’s eyes betrayed his wishes as he took in the sight. Yelena’s cheeks were already red, too. “Sorry, my pants are in my bedroom.”
Her underwear was simple and black and very attractive. It hugged low on her hips and Bob wanted to push up her shirt to see her hip bones. Quickly, he turned around to shut the shower off, willing the thoughts to disperse. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m the one intruding here. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
That made Yelena laugh this time, her loud, funny laugh. “Bob, you could never, ever make me uncomfortable. I think it would be impossible.”
I doubt that, he thought miserably, thinking back to how he’d listened to her touch herself.
His eyes darted to her thigh. The wound was half-unwrapped, but like Yelena said, the gauze had glued itself to her stitches with blood and tugged a few out.
He sucked in a breath and crouched where she sat at the counter, his hand sliding up her calf. It was an unnecessary touch, but he wanted to touch her legs so badly. “Yelena, I’m so sorry,” he said wretchedly, “if I had my normal kit, I would’ve put a waterproof bandage over your stitches so this couldn’t happen. I’m so-”
“Hey, hey,” Yelena’s hand slid off the counter to his hair, running her fingers through it. The touch made his brain seize up. “I don’t blame you at all. It was this or bleed out, right?”
“I never want to hurt you,” he blurted, looking into her eyes, “I won’t make this mistake again.”
The way Yelena was looking at him was strange. It was warm, but something about her eyes flickered, and then she just smiled, her cheeks still red. “You won’t hurt me, you’re my Sentry, remember?
Bob swallowed hard, nodding eagerly. “Of course, Yelena. I’ll always protect you.”
Yelena’s breaths were coming a little quicker, and Bob didn’t want to scare her away, so he set to work, pulling the med kit from underneath the sink - this was familiar, he’d done it many times before. He felt her eyes on him as he shifted to one knee, hands coming up to her thighs. “I’m going to need to spray this to loosen it, and I’m gonna use water, but after that, I have to clean it with antiseptic again, so it’s going to sting, okay?”
He said this but of course, Bob knew that Yelena was fully aware of what he had to do. She knew how to stop an artery from bleeding, this wasn’t exactly her first rodeo. Still, it felt better than working silently, and Yelena nodded quickly. “Yeah, okay. Just let me know if you need me to do anything.”
Bob slid his hand up her inner thigh, where the wound was, and braced it there as he got to work. He heard her breath hitch, and he was sure Yelena could see how pink his ears were, but he focused on the task at hand, pulling the gauze off carefully. Every time she winced or sucked in a breath, he halted and slowed down. He realized as he worked why she needed help. Yelena would’ve probably just impatiently ripped this off and redid the stitching herself. He wondered if that’s what she was preparing to do when he knocked on her door.
“There,” he said once the wound was bandaged up with a waterproof bandage, leaning back. He’d touched her inner thigh for so long that the buzz of it made his head feel light. “Feel okay?”
Yelena nodded mutely.
“Good.” But Bob didn’t stand up. Instead, his eyes flicked to hers.
“It’s very-“ Yelena broke off, chewing on her cheek. “It’s very kind of you to do this for me, patching me up, you know. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Yelena,” he said, “I’m your Sentry. I’ll always be there to fix you up.” He felt the need to say this. Like a reaffirmation, to show how much it meant to him when she said it.
Her leg dangled off of the sink countertop and he wanted desperately to kiss it. He didn’t care if she smelled like blood and gun powder and sweat from the night’s events. “You’re so good, Bob,” she whispered, “I don’t know how you can’t see it.”
His throat closed up at her words, his chest heaving. “Good?” He choked out, “me?”
“Yeah,” her voice was low and quiet. “You’re so good for me.”
Everything in Bob lit up like a Christmas Tree, and suddenly, it was hard to breathe again. “I’m - I want to be good for you, Yelena. I’ll be good for you.” Almost subconsciously, his hands found her calves again, and he slid them down to her feet to rub them, massaging in circles.
She hummed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
Immediately, his gaze devoured her body eagerly. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and where her breasts pressed against her white t-shirt, he could see her nipples, which were hard - but that wasn’t a surprise, because the skin on her arms and legs were lifted with goosebumps, too. His eyes then slid down to her navel, where the small round curve of her stomach sat, and her sharp hip bones, which he could see through the t-shirt, too. Her black underwear slid up her thighs far enough that he could see a divot where her crotch was, and that little mound that pressed against the fabric right between her thighs. Bob licked his lips.
His hands were gentle on her feet, but the feeling that burned in his stomach was anything but. He wanted to devour her. He wanted to pin her down, lift her hips up, and lick her up until she was squirming. He wanted to hear her moan and whimper his name, because he made her feel that good. He wanted -
Bob’s eyes darted up, and Yelena’s eyes were watching him.
He froze, eyes widening. “I’m - I’m -“ he stuttered, squeezing her feet as if that would make her forgive him, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been looking at you like that.”
“I want you to look,” she said, her voice very quiet. When Yelena was overwhelmed, her Russian accent was thick, Bob knew that. Right now, her accent was really thick. Bob swallowed hard again, and her hand traveled to her black panties, pressing on the fabric between her legs. “Look right here.”
Bob’s jaw clenched as he obeyed, his hands moving to her other foot and massaging circles. Then, Yelena’s hand slid into her panties, rubbing circles, and Bob’s hands stopped. His heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest. “Bob?” She said to get his attention.
“Hmm?” his eyes darted up to her face, then her breasts briefly, and back to her face. “Yes, Yelena?”
“If I asked you to be good for me, you would, wouldn’t you?” She was still rubbing circles, her cheeks red with a shy blush, but she did not act shy in the slightest. Bob suspected that she knew very well what she wanted and was tired of waiting for him to make the first move.
The words that came out of his mouth were very strangled. “Anything to be good for you.”
“So you’ll answer my next question honestly.”
“Always.”
“Do you like watching this?”
”Yes,” Bob said, and Yelena hummed happily at his answer.
“Do you want to fuck me?”
Bob felt so choked up he couldn’t speak, so instead, he nodded frantically, his hands sliding up to her calf. Yelena’s pupils were huge, and if removing her gauze hadn’t hurt her so much, he’d probably question if she took any painkillers. “Yelena, I - I have to tell you something.”
Yelena’s hand stopped, and her brow furrowed at the serious tone of his voice. “What’s wrong? You don’t - you don’t want me to -“
“No, no, it’s not that,” He said quickly, “I just need to - to tell you that..”
Bob squeezed his eyes shut, shame flooding over him. He didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to ruin his chances here, of course, but he didn’t want to lie to Yelena, and that was more important than anything. “I heard you touching yourself earlier, and I - I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t - didn’t - stop myself.”
Yelena inhaled deeply, blinking. “Earlier - today? Like, fifteen minutes ago?”
Bob dropped his eyes to the floor and nodded miserably. He didn’t want to say any more. His shame burned in his throat like hot coals.
“That’s all you did, listen?”
Bob shook his head and stayed silent for a few moments to work up the courage. “I touched myself, too.” He could hear Yelena’s heart stuttering now, beating much harder than when she was touching herself or fighting for her life. “I’m… I’m a horrible person for it. All I can do is ask you to forgive me-“
“Bob,” she rasped, “I need - I need you to help me into the shower, because I’m filthy, and I want - I want you so badly, but I’d really like to clean the blood off of myself first.”
Bob’s eyes flew open, his brow furrowing in confusion as he met her eyes, but she was being serious. “You don’t hate me?”
She shyly looked away, kicking her feet a little. “When you told me that you could hear my heart, even when helping Bucky, I kinda suspected you might hear something. If you could hear my heart through explosions, then…”
Bob’s jaw fell open, and he stumbled to his feet now, putting his hands on either side of Yelena and leaning over her. “You - you’re evil,” he huffed, a smile breaking over his face, “you love to torture me, don’t you?”
Yelena beamed beneath him, shining like the sun. “I didn’t want to make the first move, I was nervous.”
“You flirted with that Justin guy all evening, do you know how jealous I was? I almost ripped his head off.”
Yelena’s smile widened even further, and they were so close that Bob smelled the gunpowder in her hair. “I had an idea that you might be,” she stuck her tongue out playfully, “you were breathing heavily every time I touched his hand.”
Bob leaned in and kissed her hard, his arm coming around her waist and she let out an excited hum, her arms sliding over his shoulders. Every touch was pure electricity. Her mouth was soft and tasted like lip balm and faintly of alcohol from the bar. He chased that taste, his chest pressing against hers, and he could feel her arch up against him, wiggling her hips eagerly for contact, and he was certain she could feel his hardness through his sweatpants pressed against her thigh.
She nipped at his bottom lip, and he didn’t mean to moan, but it slipped out. He felt her smile against his lips, and he chased her for another kiss, and then another. He couldn’t gt enough, he’d imagined kissing her so many times before, but all those daydreams didn’t hold a candle to the real thing.
When they broke apart, Yelena’s lips were a little red and her eyes were dazzling bright, like she’d seen a firework show. “Robert Reynolds, you’re an amazing kisser.” Then, she blushed, like she said something stupid, but Bob just grinned like an idiot.
“Really? I guess I’d better give you another one, then.” He leaned in, and she tilted her head back eagerly, and the kiss was much softer this time, but he could feel how impatient she was as her hips rolled against his leg. Leaning back, Bob took in the sight of her. He’d been ogling all night, but now he could look at her without shame, eyes tracing every curve of her body.
Yelena watched his eyes, like she was curious what he saw. “What is it?”
Bob’s eyes flicked to hers again. “Yelena, you’re so beautiful. I want to tell you that all the time.”
Yelena looked away shyly, like she wasn’t sure what to say, and Bob understood, because he was bad with compliments too, so all he did was kiss her on the cheek, then the ear, and then right below her ear, and then her neck.
Suddenly, Yelena pushed on his chest, very flushed. “We - I should -“
“Oh, yeah,” Bob blinked, pulling back. “Shower. But honestly, Yelena, I - um - don’t care that you’re filthy at all.”
“I do,” she huffed, but a smile played at her lips, “god, Reynolds, you animal,” and she brushed her foot against where his sweatpants tented. There was a little wet spot where his dick leaked impatiently.
It was his turn to blush now, and he smiled bashfully. “Fine, fine. Let me help you to the shower.”
This time, Yelena wrapped her legs around him when he lifted her, and the feeling that burned deep in his abdomen was so feral that he wanted to just carry her to the bed and eat her out anyway.
Once her feet touched the ground, she peeled off her shirt, tossing it aside. Bob watched with barely concealed interest, his gaze roaming her body, and then she dropped her underwear next, reaching over and turning the shower on, and shot him a heated look. “Did you plan on watching me shower?”
“Yes.” He paused. “Unless you didn’t want me to.”
“I’m not ashamed of my body,” she said, a little forcefully, as if it wasn’t entirely true. Bob’s eyes landed on the bullet hole scars and the long, jagged scars that looked like they came from daggers. He could see why any person would be self conscious - but he didn’t find them ugly at all. Instead, he found his mood sour. How had Yelena been patched up after each of these injuries without him around? He imagined her lying in some abandoned warehouse, gasping as she fished a bullet hole out of her side, and sewing herself up through pained grunts.
“Yelena, you’re gorgeous,” he said vehemently, “but I would like to find out who put so many bullet holes in you so I can kill them myself.”
Yelena laughed, ducking her head under the water and scrubbing her hair. “Don’t worry, I took care of that.”
Bob watched for a few moments, eyes roaming her chest and hips, then figured he should stop being so forward. “I’ll leave you to shower,” he said, “but call me if you need any help.”
Yelena’s eyes were closed as shampoo rinsed from her hair. “Okay. I’ll be fine.” But Bob saw how she favored her uninjured leg heavily. Her other foot barely grazed the floor.
Don’t be overbearing, he thought to himself as he slipped out, closing the bathroom door behind him. For a moment, he stood cluelessly in her quiet bedroom. Her bed was king sized, low to the ground, with a heavy beige comforter laid messily on top and too many pillows for one person. There were little pictures on her desk, and Bob padded over to it, picking one up. It was a picture of Yelena, Natasha, and Alexei. Yelena wore a white suit and black vest, and he wondered when it was taken.
Replacing the picture, Bob suddenly felt stupid. He should be making himself useful - so he got to work, making her bed and fluffing her pillows, and then his eyes landed on her night stand. Save for a lamp, there was nothing on it, but he wondered if her vibrator was in there.
He averted his eyes quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed to wait. Bob had used up all of his luck for being creepy today, he wouldn’t dare look.
His eyes darted to the side table anyway. A moment of insanity came over him, and he imagined briefly pulling her vibrator out, leaning back on the bed and palming himself through his pants while he huffed it.
The image was so crass that he shot to his feet, pacing back and forth. I’ve truly lost my mind, he thought, eyes fixed on the ceiling so he wouldn’t dare be tempted by her bedside table, Never in my whole life have I ever acted so crazy about someone.
So he did everything he could to keep himself busy. He kept his ears focused on Yelena as he vacuumed her room, then decided to do the hallway. Then he decided to replace a burnt out lightbulb that was in the stairwell, since that had been needing replaced.
Yelena began to hum as she showered, and, floating in the air to replace a lightbulb on one of the impossibly tall ceilings of the tower, Bob listened intently. He couldn’t tell if it was a song he heard before, but the melody was pleasant, and pretty soon Bob was taking out the trash and humming along.
When he floated back to her room, sitting on the edge of her bed, his eyes landed on her bedside table, and he cursed himself. He was useless. Trying to distract himself just made him more aware of it. His mind kept wandering to what would happen when Yelena was out of the shower. Perhaps, Bob thought, he should insist that they didn’t have to do anything - he didn’t want Yelena to think that was all he cared about -
Then, with a jolt, the alarm of the Watchtower went off. Code Red, Code Red. It droned, loud enough to overpower a fire alarm. Bob shot to his feet, his anticipation replaced with an anxious dread.
“Bob?” Yelena shouted from the shower, and he heard it turn off.
“Yelena, I’m going to check out what’s happening,” he called through the door, “you should stay here and recover, I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t wait for a reply, because knowing Yelena, she would probably stubbornly insist she be included.