Adhara21

It was supposed to be a fairly uneventful mission and ,for once, it had lived up to their expectations.

It had been a long, boring, one but they had made it home alive and the bad guys had been defeated.

"Well done," Val said on the phone with Lena. "Now you can get your asses home."

John sat down on the jet's seats with a sigh. He let Bucky fly, for once, with Yelena co-piloting, and sat in the back with the rest of the group.

He clenched and unclenched his left hand a couple of times, removing his leather glove with a groan.

Bob's eyes, sitting across from him, hadn't left him for a second.

He still looked so beautiful in his golden suit, after all these years. The days of Void terrorizing New York were long gone and, not without a lot of practice and therapy, he had finally been able to come on missions with them for some time now.

A part of him wanted to brag unabashedly that the wonderful being who hovered above them in his golden suit had been so magnanimous as to choose him as his companion, every day for the past five years.

That wonderful being whom everyone knew as the Sentry, the golden guardian of good, was simply Bob to him, and he had been his husband for a couple of months now.

This was the first mission they had been on since returning from their honeymoon.

Three weeks on a hot Pacific island where their only concern was avoiding sunburn (at least for John).

But now they were back to reality, to the monsters and evil men who threatened humanity, and to minor inconveniences.

John liked his suit.

It was tight enough to be like a second skin, it followed him in every move, and it was made of the thickest, finest leather he had ever felt.

He had a helmet for missions and a Beret that he wore mostly for the publicity bullshit Val made him do.

It was a small compromise in exchange for completely new equipment. Val had spared no expense and had put the best scientists at OXE at their service.

His old shield, for example, was made of the same metal as tanks. John had built it himself and it was a solid, durable material that had served him well in all those years of honorable service, at least until his adorable husband had reduced him to a damned Taco.

Now his shield was made of Vibranium, as were Bucky's arm, Alexei's shield, and Sam's, thirty times lighter and at least as durable as his old friend.

The armory in their tower was mind-blowing. Six walls filled with everything he'd ever needed.

His own suit had been remade, still following the original design so that it was similar but not entirely to his old Captain America costume.

His teammates' suits had also undergone the same redesign. Val's scientists had worked with Ava, and she now had a much thinner suit she could wear under her clothes, leaving her old, bulky suit for combat only.

Bob's new golden suit had been designed to follow him in every transformation and adapt to the breadth of his powers.

The same fate had befallen Alexei's suit, with the man protesting that "Red Guardian didn't need it, he was already perfect as It was."

An "A" had appeared on everyone's suit, perhaps the one small detail that truly made them a team.

John had never had any problems with his suit, not even with the old one the government had given him when he became Cap.

The leather gloves were a real nightmare, especially after everything that had happened.

Bucky had managed to break his left arm after their fight after the "accident" that had made him public enemy number one.

Despite the serum, it had never healed properly.

His shoulder ached from time to time, and leather gloves became a nightmare when his left hand swelled.

Removing the glove, he smiled slightly when he saw that golden band on his middle finger again.

He wasn't used to having even that little bit of bulk under those tight leather gloves anymore.

When he thought about how long it had taken him to abandon his old wedding ring that tied him to Olivia, he had to laugh.

He still remembered the incredible fight he'd had with Bob when they were still just dating .

He'd finally abandoned it months into their relationship.

And now, here he was again. And this time, it was tying him to the man of his life.

"Does your arm hurt?" Bob asked softly.

He hadn't even noticed when Bob sat down next to him.

"Same old thing," John said, then raised his voice to be heard from the cockpit. "If only someone hadn't broken my arm."

"For the umpteenth time," Bucky said, sighing. "I'm sorry, Walker. Have you tried what I said?"

To be fair, his relationship with Bucky had improved a lot. But he still believed he had at least a small pass to tease Bucky until the end of their supersoldier days.

He'd even taught him a taping technique that had helped him greatly ease the pain. Bob had learned it alongside him and was usually his go-to nurse.

"Yeah, but we left so fast I didn't have time to put it on," John said. "But it's okay, I just need to get home and take a shower."

In response, he received a small orange tube in his lap.

Facing them, Alexei smiled at them with a thumbs up.

“Lena always keeps tube of super soldier painkillers in first aid kit,” he said. “Just don’t take it with vodka, just a friendly tip.”

“No need,” Bob said, smiling.

He placed a hand on his wrist and closed his eyes, the familiar warmth of Bob’s powers radiating up his shoulder, giving him instant relief.

The fact that his husband had the ability to heal wounds was very useful in these cases.

He crossed his legs over his with a satisfied smile, smiling at how John’s face had finally relaxed.

“Thank you, Mr. Walker,” John said, kissing him.

“My pleasure, Mr. Walker,” Bob said, kissing him back.

The kiss was abruptly interrupted by a towel thrown at his face by someone to their right.

“You've been unbearable ever since you got back,” Ava said. “Tell me you won't always be like this now that you're married.”

“We can't promise that,” Bob said, laughing. “And besides, I did it so you have no excuse to take off your ring.”

“It only happened once,” John said.

“Please,” Lena said from the cabin, “you didn't even tell me about this.”

“His arm hurt while we were away, too, and instead of asking me for help, since he has a husband who can literally heal anything, he thought it best to put some stupid arnica on it and take off the ring, leaving it on the nightstand. Result? A waiter hit on him, not seeing the ring. I can't even go to the bathroom without worrying.”

“He was just being very kind,” John said, shrugging.

“Yeah, so nice he kept staring at your ass as we left.”

“Well, that’s his problem,” said John. “I have an owner now.”

He raised his left hand and pointed to his wedding ring, just for emphasis.

“That’s right, I don’t like people trying to steal my stuff,” said Bob.

“You’re impossible,” said John, laughing.

“Welcome to your next life,” said Bob. “You’re the one who wanted to marry me.”

“Best thing I’ve ever done in my life,” said John, kissing his nose. “This and my son, of course.”

Bob smiled slightly.

The two kissed again, receiving yet another towel in return.

Notes:

A short fic born from a close-up of John's hand (or perhaps Wyatt's in this case) with his glove and wedding ring, mixed with the headcanon that the arm Bucky broke in TFATWS hasn't healed properly and is giving him some trouble every now and then.

See you next time

It was supposed to be a fairly uneventful mission and ,for once, it had lived up to their expectations.

It had been a long, boring, one but they had made it home alive and the bad guys had been defeated.

"Well done," Val said on the phone with Lena. "Now you can get your asses home."

John sat down on the jet's seats with a sigh. He let Bucky fly, for once, with Yelena co-piloting, and sat in the back with the rest of the group.

He clenched and unclenched his left hand a couple of times, removing his leather glove with a groan.

Bob's eyes, sitting across from him, hadn't left him for a second.

He still looked so beautiful in his golden suit, after all these years. The days of Void terrorizing New York were long gone and, not without a lot of practice and therapy, he had finally been able to come on missions with them for some time now.

A part of him wanted to brag unabashedly that the wonderful being who hovered above them in his golden suit had been so magnanimous as to choose him as his companion, every day for the past five years.

That wonderful being whom everyone knew as the Sentry, the golden guardian of good, was simply Bob to him, and he had been his husband for a couple of months now.

This was the first mission they had been on since returning from their honeymoon.

Three weeks on a hot Pacific island where their only concern was avoiding sunburn (at least for John).

But now they were back to reality, to the monsters and evil men who threatened humanity, and to minor inconveniences.

John liked his suit.

It was tight enough to be like a second skin, it followed him in every move, and it was made of the thickest, finest leather he had ever felt.

He had a helmet for missions and a Beret that he wore mostly for the publicity bullshit Val made him do.

It was a small compromise in exchange for completely new equipment. Val had spared no expense and had put the best scientists at OXE at their service.

His old shield, for example, was made of the same metal as tanks. John had built it himself and it was a solid, durable material that had served him well in all those years of honorable service, at least until his adorable husband had reduced him to a damned Taco.

Now his shield was made of Vibranium, as were Bucky's arm, Alexei's shield, and Sam's, thirty times lighter and at least as durable as his old friend.

The armory in their tower was mind-blowing. Six walls filled with everything he'd ever needed.

His own suit had been remade, still following the original design so that it was similar but not entirely to his old Captain America costume.

His teammates' suits had also undergone the same redesign. Val's scientists had worked with Ava, and she now had a much thinner suit she could wear under her clothes, leaving her old, bulky suit for combat only.

Bob's new golden suit had been designed to follow him in every transformation and adapt to the breadth of his powers.

The same fate had befallen Alexei's suit, with the man protesting that "Red Guardian didn't need it, he was already perfect as It was."

An "A" had appeared on everyone's suit, perhaps the one small detail that truly made them a team.

John had never had any problems with his suit, not even with the old one the government had given him when he became Cap.

The leather gloves were a real nightmare, especially after everything that had happened.

Bucky had managed to break his left arm after their fight after the "accident" that had made him public enemy number one.

Despite the serum, it had never healed properly.

His shoulder ached from time to time, and leather gloves became a nightmare when his left hand swelled.

Removing the glove, he smiled slightly when he saw that golden band on his middle finger again.

He wasn't used to having even that little bit of bulk under those tight leather gloves anymore.

When he thought about how long it had taken him to abandon his old wedding ring that tied him to Olivia, he had to laugh.

He still remembered the incredible fight he'd had with Bob when they were still just dating .

He'd finally abandoned it months into their relationship.

And now, here he was again. And this time, it was tying him to the man of his life.

"Does your arm hurt?" Bob asked softly.

He hadn't even noticed when Bob sat down next to him.

"Same old thing," John said, then raised his voice to be heard from the cockpit. "If only someone hadn't broken my arm."

"For the umpteenth time," Bucky said, sighing. "I'm sorry, Walker. Have you tried what I said?"

To be fair, his relationship with Bucky had improved a lot. But he still believed he had at least a small pass to tease Bucky until the end of their supersoldier days.

He'd even taught him a taping technique that had helped him greatly ease the pain. Bob had learned it alongside him and was usually his go-to nurse.

"Yeah, but we left so fast I didn't have time to put it on," John said. "But it's okay, I just need to get home and take a shower."

In response, he received a small orange tube in his lap.

Facing them, Alexei smiled at them with a thumbs up.

“Lena always keeps tube of super soldier painkillers in first aid kit,” he said. “Just don’t take it with vodka, just a friendly tip.”

“No need,” Bob said, smiling.

He placed a hand on his wrist and closed his eyes, the familiar warmth of Bob’s powers radiating up his shoulder, giving him instant relief.

The fact that his husband had the ability to heal wounds was very useful in these cases.

He crossed his legs over his with a satisfied smile, smiling at how John’s face had finally relaxed.

“Thank you, Mr. Walker,” John said, kissing him.

“My pleasure, Mr. Walker,” Bob said, kissing him back.

The kiss was abruptly interrupted by a towel thrown at his face by someone to their right.

“You've been unbearable ever since you got back,” Ava said. “Tell me you won't always be like this now that you're married.”

“We can't promise that,” Bob said, laughing. “And besides, I did it so you have no excuse to take off your ring.”

“It only happened once,” John said.

“Please,” Lena said from the cabin, “you didn't even tell me about this.”

“His arm hurt while we were away, too, and instead of asking me for help, since he has a husband who can literally heal anything, he thought it best to put some stupid arnica on it and take off the ring, leaving it on the nightstand. Result? A waiter hit on him, not seeing the ring. I can't even go to the bathroom without worrying.”

“He was just being very kind,” John said, shrugging.

“Yeah, so nice he kept staring at your ass as we left.”

“Well, that’s his problem,” said John. “I have an owner now.”

He raised his left hand and pointed to his wedding ring, just for emphasis.

“That’s right, I don’t like people trying to steal my stuff,” said Bob.

“You’re impossible,” said John, laughing.

“Welcome to your next life,” said Bob. “You’re the one who wanted to marry me.”

“Best thing I’ve ever done in my life,” said John, kissing his nose. “This and my son, of course.”

Bob smiled slightly.

The two kissed again, receiving yet another towel in return.

Notes:

A short fic born from a close-up of John's hand (or perhaps Wyatt's in this case) with his glove and wedding ring, mixed with the headcanon that the arm Bucky broke in TFATWS hasn't healed properly and is giving him some trouble every now and then.

See you next time

Given the way their “arrangement” started, it’s no surprise that John’s mind keeps going back to one place. Every time Bob’s tongue glides up the side of the orange popsicle, John imagines that it’s his dick. That Bob is on his knees in front of John, hand around his base, tongue trailing the lines of every vein on his cock.

(And there is a part of John that hates himself for thinking about it. There’s a part of John that hates himself for wanting it in the first place; that judges himself for being so fucking attracted to a man. That part of him has never judged Bob for the same.)

John tries to make himself walk away but he can’t. His cock starts to feel tight beneath his sweats as he stares at Bob, reminding himself he’s fucking disgusting at every thought. But can he blame himself? Is it his fault that Bob is so effortlessly fucking gorgeous?

He’s shirtless, beads of sweat glistening on his perfectly tanned skin. His shorts are just a little too small, blue fabric straining against the muscles of his thighs. He sucks the whole tip of the popsicle between his lips and the sugar drips down his chin and John can feel his cock twitch.

It reminds him of the way saliva shines on Bob’s face when he blows John; of how he lets his spit and John’s precum dribble down his chin and drip on his chest. He looks goddamn beautiful every time, like he was made to be covered in John, to be claimed by John.

Except he isn’t. He isn’t John’s and he’ll never be John’s. They’re just “friends with benefits,” whatever that meant anymore, and Bob would probably break off even that if he knew that John was staring at him like a fucking pervert.

(He’d definitely break it off if he knew about the fantasy that appeared in John’s head. The one where John walked on the balcony and dropped his pants to his ankles and defiled Bob’s pretty chest with his release.)

The thought does nothing to make John move. He’s still stuck against the glass, watching as Bob’s tongue glides up and down the popsicle, seemingly oblivious to the way the treat drips across his collarbone. He taps his e-reader to flip the page, too engrossed in his book to care.

John wants to feel Bob’s tongue all over him. He wants Bob to lick him like that popsicle. He wants to tuck Bob’s sweaty hair behind his ears and hold him against his bush until he—

“Hey.” He jumps when Ava speaks, the look on her face hard to read. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” says John quickly. What is he supposed to tell her? He’s fantasizing about coming down the back of Bob’s throat? “Just— I— It’s hot. Outside, I mean. It’s— It’s hot today.”

“Mmhm.” Ava raises a brow. “He’s the Sentry. I think he’ll survive a bit of sun.”

“Right.”

Before he could even process what he’d said, Bob was hit by a rush of warmth inside of him. John groaned as he came, mumbling something Bob couldn’t hear. Maybe because he didn’t want to. Maybe because he was shaking too much from his orgasm and John’s orgasm and the fact that he’d fucking called John “Daddy.”

Normally, Bob liked to stay on top of John for a little bit. That day, he scrambled off as soon as John’s cum started to spill back out of him. He sniffed and wiped under his eyes as he sat on the floor in front of the couch.

All he really wanted to do was run away but he couldn’t because he was quite literally dripping cum. He needed at least a couple minutes to sit on the towel before he could stand up without making a worse mess.

How fucking embarrassing was that? If the fact that Bob had called John “Daddy” hadn’t turned him off already, the sight of Bob crying and leaking cum would definitely solidify the end of their friends with benefits thing.

“Hey.” Bob flinched when John’s hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing him just a little too tight. John was going to hurt him for crossing a line or at the very least, call him a fucking freak. “You all right?”

“I’m sorry,” said Bob. He didn’t even really process what John said. Instinct told him to apologize so he did. Instinct also told him to run but the last thing he needed was to get caught leaving John’s bedroom half naked and covered in cum. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— I’m sorry.”

John lifted his hand off Bob’s shoulder, then rolled over the edge of the bed and sat beside him. He looked Bob up and down—probably evaluating the exact level of disgust Bob had predicted—and took a deep breath as he dragged his hand down his beard.

“You don’t have to apologize,” John told him. He wet his lips uncomfortably, hands fidgeting atop his bare knees. “That was hot.”

Okay, so John was on that end of the spectrum. He wasn’t going to hurt Bob, he was just going to lie to him and then ghost him because he was so fucking weirded out. Bob wasn’t in the mood for it. “No, it wasn’t. It was the second most embarrassing orgasm of my life.”

Bob brushed a tear off his cheek, frustrated by the amount of emotion he felt. He acknowledged that part of it probably had to do with the endorphin release and the fact that he’d cut off any aftercare, but he mostly just felt stupid.

“Just go take a shower,” Bob told John when he didn’t speak. “I’ll be gone when you come back.”

“I don’t want you to be gone when I come back.” That was unexpected. Yeah, at some point Bob stopped leaving right after sex and started staying the night, but he didn’t think John would want that after what he’d said. He froze when John set a hand on his knee, leaned in, and muttered, “Daddy can’t sleep without his baby.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.” John kissed Bob’s temple, his cheek, his neck; tongue barely poking out to graze Bob’s skin with each kiss. “Never thought about it before but I think I’m pretty into it.”

“You’re into me calling you ‘Daddy?’” If John laughed, Bob would know it was a lie.

John did not laugh. He moved his face in front of Bob’s, their mouths close enough that Bob could feel John’s breath. “Call me Daddy again and let’s see.”

“Daddy.”

“Mmhm?” John’s lips met Bob’s, soft and tender but filled with need. Bob tried not to think about it too hard as he kissed John back. “What do you need Daddy to do for you?”

He didn’t realize he was getting hard again until John’s hand landed on his shaft, thumb circling his tip. Bob shivered when John leaned in for another kiss, rolling his tongue inside Bob’s mouth as he started to pull up and down on Bob’s thick cock.

Bob really didn’t let him play with it enough. He was always too focused on John’s cock to pay attention to his own. The rush he got from coming from John’s cock alone left his dick feeling like an afterthought more often than it should have.

“Daddy,” Bob mumbled against John’s lips, hips bucking upward as John intensified the movements at the top of his cock. A small spurt of precum spilled over John’s hand and Bob whimpered beneath his breath. “Your hand feels so good, Daddy.”

“You feel good for Daddy too, baby.”

Given how sensitive he already was after their session, it didn’t take long for Bob to finish. He moaned against John’s lips as he came into his hand, less than he’d released the first time but still just as warm.

John kept his hand where it was, working Bob through his orgasm. He didn’t move until Bob whined softly and winced, the contact on the tip of his dick suddenly overstimulating. Even when John moved his hand, he kept his lips near Bob’s, close enough to kiss him again before he finally pulled back.

“Good job, Bobby,” John whispered beside Bob’s ear. “You did so good for Daddy.”

Bob pushed him away playfully, unable to release the fucked-out smile from his lips. “How are you so good at everything?”

“I’m bad at a lot of things.”

“Not with sex. Fuck.” Bob leaned back against the bed, chest rising and falling with fervor. He glanced between his legs for just a second before he closed his eyes, a pang of shame hitting him at the cum sliding down his shaft. “Does that mean we can keep fucking? I mean, not now, but like…”

John made a face. “Why would we stop?”

“Other men usually think it’s weird. Or take advantage of it. Or they know enough about my dad to point out that this is a really fucked-up kink for me to have.”

“If it makes you feel good, I don’t care why you have it.” That was good. That wasn’t a topic Bob wanted to get into. Not yet. “I don’t think it’s weird. It’s kind of a normal kink, honestly. And I would never take advantage of you. All right?”

“Okay.”

“I do have one question though.”

Great. One last opportunity for Bob to drive him away. “Yeah?”

“You said this was the second most embarrassing orgasm of your life,” John pointed out. Shit. He had said that. Why did he have to be honest? “What was the first?”

“Fuck, John.” John mouthed ‘Daddy’ as a correction and Bob had to take a deep breath to stop his body from turning on again at the sight. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t ever tell anyone else, okay?”

John held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“Okay. So, you know how the prostate and the—” Bob must have been more comfortable around John than he thought because he actually chuckled. In the past, he’d barely been able to think about it without all the embarrassment rushing back. “You know how the prostate and the bladder are kind of stacked?”

“Shit.” John snorted and for once, it felt like a guy was really laughing with Bob and not at him. “I think I see where this is going.”

“Yeah, it turns out if you drink a lot of margaritas and then you bottom for a guy with a big dick at the wrong angle…”

And then he was laughing. Actually laughing. Maybe because John was laughing too, because he felt safe, because he knew for the first time in his life he wasn’t being judged. Still, when John inhaled, Bob anticipated a joke at his expense.

Instead, John asked, “Was he bigger than me?”

“No,” said Bob quickly, grinning as he shook his head. He bit down on his lip, taking a moment to stare into John’s eyes before he spoke again. “You have to tell me yours now.”

“My most embarrassing orgasm?” Bob nodded and John chuckled again. He nodded toward the bed and said, “Probably when I came the second you said, ‘Daddy.’”