#agtwalker

AMPLECOIN.

THE PREMIUM CURRENCY FOR THE PREMIUM MAN.

BUY NOW BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!!

( x ) based on a conversation w/ @agtwalker.  Yelena goes to have coffee with Olivia.

"You never said anything about John..." Olivia states firm and curious.

Yelena's heart lurches. Her eyes are probably widened.

Not because she doesn’t know, but because saying it feels like breaking the skin. Like the feeling you get when you pull out a splinter and bleed a little, just before the healing starts.

Olivia’s question lingers like smoke, only to make her consider: Are you sure you love him? Or is Robby the one holding you here?

Yelena looks down at her hands.

One of her nails is chipped from picking at the label on Robby’s juice box earlier. That stupid cardboard triangle that never peels right. She remembers laughing when she couldn’t get it open and John took it from her, muttering, "God, how are you trained to kill people but can't take out a juice carton?"

@agtwalker : 🎲🎲 kiss roulette meme

39. A tentative kiss.

So, he's blond. That's not why Scott's staring at his lips. His lips aren't blond. ( That makes no biological sense! ) They're simply his. And they're moving ever-so-tactically as he speaks, like they want to make themselves known. Like they're begging Scott to give up trying to maintain any semblance of eye contact and indulge himself in something quite contrary - a whole other realm of contact.

But it's John Walker. How does one kiss John Walker? ( Well, on the lips, of course, but it's more of a spiritual how. A how that thunders and forces hesitation down your chest. ) Scott's never been good at holding back. It doesn't work for him - never did. But all that really does is return him to the how. What does one say? Doing-wise, he's not being so subtle. His eyes are darting up and down like he's about to have a seizure, and the admiration sparkling within them could not have made things any more blatant.

"I, uh." You, uh, what? He finds his feet dragging him a step ahead, and that dreaded thumb with a mind of its own finding the tip of John's jawline, brushing back against it with a firm yet ... hesitant caress. "I usually listen to you. I like to. But, man, I ... can't seem to focus this time around. I heard absolutely nothing you said." The admission is said with a lilt of apology in that voice of his, coy little smile on his face that soon fades as he further zones out of the room and well into the other man's eyes.

"Because I just keep thinking ... what if I ..." With a drag back, first, and a twitch of that thumb, he closes the distance in a gradual lean - something to offer John a chance to slap him across the face, there, if he's not so inclined to go along. If it doesn't happen, lips meet. He presses them into John's and can't seem to find a balance between the tentativeness at the start and his desire to roughen it up. It's something more emotional than it is firm, the contact, a sincere kiss blurring the line between the time spent on it and all that came before. He's holding onto the side of his face, now, rest of the palm against his head as though holding onto him for dear life. The other hand finds his waist. Then they part - Scott breaks contact, and it immediately sets in what he'd done. For once, he doesn't know what to say.

« @agtwalker  :   it  all  just  seems  so  much  easier  for  everybody  else.  am  i  wrong? »

The  question  stalls  him  for  a  moment.   Because  he  wasn't  sure  he  had  as  simple  of  an  answer  as  he  was  sure  Walker  was  hoping  it  to  be.   Walker  had  never  asked  for  anything  that  happened  to  him  ,  ┈┈  and  Bucky  had  never  asked  for  what  had  happened  to  him.   Both  of  them  ,  blamed  for  the  things  they  did.   Sure  there  were  differences  ,         (  but  if  you  thought  about  it  the  right  way  they  had  more  in  common  than  Bucky  wanted  to  admit.  )   Because  it  called  out  the  things  in  himself  that  he  needed  to  work  on  ,  ┈┈  as  well  as  the  insecurities  Bucky  felt  as  well.   Only  he  had  given  up  on  trying  to  find  the  answer  to  that  question.

Because  it  wasn't  that  simple.   It  wasn't  a  matter  of  who  had  it  easier  ,  ┈┈  what  mattered  was  being  there  when  someone  found  their  hard  times.   It  had  taken  Bucky  some  time  to  realize  that  part.

“  It's  not  that  simple  I  don't  think.  ”   His  voice  came  out  quiet  ,  but  honest.   A  raw  side  of  him  ,  ┈┈  that  he  made  a  habit  of  hiding  away  from  most  of  the  world.   He  certainly  hadn't  really  ever  shown  that  side  to  Walker.         (  much  to  his  shame  he  only  really  ever  judged  the  guy  until  recently.  )   Pot  calling  the  kettle  black  in  some  ways.   Judging  a  man  for  being  someone  that  nobody  could  ever  be.   He'd  been  waiting  for  John  to  prove  he  could  be  Steve  Rogers  ,  ┈┈  that  he  failed  to  see  what  John  Walker  brought  to  the  table.

j.  walker: please,  i  dare  you  to  try  and  stop  me.   ,   @agtwalker.

THERE'S  AN  INCREDULOUS  LOOK  IN  THOSE  ICY  BLUE  EYES.   Looking  back  at  Walker  as  if  he  had  just  said  the  dumbest  thing  he  could  think  of.         (  not  to  dare  to  stop  him  like  he  was  going  to  entertain  that.  )   Head  tilted  to  the  side.   If  Walker  thought  he  was  just  gonna  sit  there  and  do  nothing  ,  ┈┈  he  was  about  to  be  sorely  mistaken.   That  wasn't  how  Bucky  did  things  ,  not  anymore.   The  day  they  all  decided  to  stick  together  on  this  was  the  day  they  became  a  team.   And  like  Walker  Bucky  held  that  with  more  meaning  than  most.

“  Wow.   You're  even  dumber  than  I  thought  if  you  think  I'm  just  gonna  let  ya  walk  int'that  alone.  ”   He  could  see  it  ,  ┈┈  the  determination  and  sheer  drive  that  Walker  got  when  he  set  his  mind  to  something.   He  pushed  off  the  cargo  box  he  was  leaning  against  ,         (  moving  to  match  pace  with  the  blonde  as  he  continued  on  his  course.  )   “  You  know  this  isn't  a  good  idea.   Not  without  backup.   So  why  don't  we  just  hold  up  a  sec  ,  and  think  this  one  through.  ”

j.  walker: buildings  aren't  haunted.  people  are.   ,   @agtwlker

He  doesn't  like  admitting  how  often  Walker's  words  stop  him  in  his  tracks  ,  ┈┈  how  much  he  reminds  him  of  himself  in  certain  moments.   At  one  point  ,  it  drove  him  nuts.         (  made  it  easier  to  want  to  hate  the  guy  really.  )   But  this  whole  ,  New  Avengers  ,  or  whatever  the  hell  bullshit  Val  was  pulling  ,  it  forced  Bucky  to  stop  seeing  this  fight  as  something  he  was  doing  on  his  own.

None  of  them  were.

Bucky  could  at  least  admit  he  was  wrong  about  him  ,  ┈┈  and  more  and  more  each  day  he  was  proving  his  initial  opinion  wrong  about  the  guy.   Maybe  he  hadn't  been  a  natural  Captain  America  ,  but  he  didn't  really  need  to  be.

The Tower is quiet when John steps off the elevator, the halls are dim, the kind of hush that only comes at nightfall in a place full of people trained to stay alert even in sleep.

Yelena isn’t in the common area. Not in the gym. He finds her in the guest quarters she never really made hers, curled up on top of the covers, one of his sweatshirts swallowed around her like armor, the sleeves cover her petite hands.

She hadn’t answered his texts. Not after the appointment. The appointment he had no idea about... There's a slightly crumpled up piece of paper on the nightstand, beside where her head rests, bold lettering that peeks: NEGATIVE.

Yelena can smell his familiar cologne, and she stirs. "Hey..." her voice cracks, eyes a little tender. Red-rimmed, but dry now. Braver, even in heartbreak. She sniffs and adjusts, a soft smile presenting, she's happy he's home. Happy to see him, even if there's a war happening behind her eyes--grief and pride and something else she’s never let herself say.

The early morning light filters through the curtains, soft and golden, casting a warm glow across the small bedroom. Yelena stirs first--years of habit, of vigilance that never quite left her. But today, it isn't danger that greets her... it's him.

She blinks slowly, taking in the sight beside her: John Walker, peaceful for once, the faint rise and fall of his chest steady, untroubled. He looks younger in his sleep. Softer. The lines of war and weight and expectation eases from his face, just for a little while.

Yelena doesn't move at first. She just watches him.

"glupyy mal'chik," she whispers with the smallest smile, her voice is fond and quiet enough to avoid waking him. Carefully, she reaches over and brushes a stray lock of blonde hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering just a little too long.

Her heart aches in the way it does when things feel too good. She’d seen too much to believe peace like this lasted—but it was here now, and she wasn’t about to waste it.

“You’re lucky I like you,” she murmurs again, then settles back into the sheets beside him, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw like she needs to memorize it.