Chapter Text
“Are you sure you were aware of this?” Yelena had, without any ceremony, walked into the kitchen and tossed the tablet onto the island counter, her eyes on John’s back as he busied himself making breakfast, a fresh batch of bacon sizzling in the pan from the intense heat.
“Hm?” He glanced over his shoulder. The months had passed—gradual and calm despite everything—and over the days, living with Yelena had become more than just tolerable; it was solid and reliable. Walker knew that behind their backs, others called them twins. It didn’t bother him, nor did it bother Yelena, even though she pretended to find it irritating. “You’ll need to be more specific. If it’s about the maple syrup on the bacon—then yes. I’m aware, and I want to continue.”
She slapped her hand to her forehead, pushing her hair back before stepping up to him and giving his arm a sharp smack. His grimace made the bold move worth it—he really hadn’t expected that—his perplexed face as Yelena paced back and forth in less than three steps, just enough to annoy him and make him lean against the island, arms crossed over his chest, without taking his eyes off the bacon still crackling in the nonstick pan.
“Care to explain the slap, or should I try reading your diabolical mind at this hour?”
“Val mentioned there would be something to improve the image, right? And that you’d be primarily involved in all of it…”
“Yes, that we already know. Mel even stopped by yesterday to say that everything was going according to plan.”
“Yes, but did she explain what the plan actually was, Walker? And who else would be involved?” Yelena stopped in front of the stove, avoiding his gaze, taking the damn tongs from his hand—the ones he used to flip each slice of bacon like a psychopath, of course. She needed to occupy her mind, so she flipped each slice one by one as Walker remained unusually quiet.
She looked over and he was picking up the tablet she had thrown on the counter. His thumb tapped the unlock button, activating the screen and revealing the details of what seemed to be Valentina and Mel’s action plan. It wasn’t hard to tell that’s exactly what it was—not when the top of the screen read: Mission—Appearance Overhaul.
Walker thought the name was ridiculous, but he wouldn’t argue. That couldn’t have been what made Yelena furious at this hour. He scrolled through, his eyes trained to seek crucial points of information, standard things picked up over time, even the basic formatting they used for better viewing of mission schedules and everything else…
“What?” His face reflected on the tablet screen as he watched his own profile plummet at an alarming and astonishing speed. “What the hell?” It slipped out of his hands before he even realized, his grip closing hard on the poor tablet—which Yelena hadn’t broken when she tossed it onto the counter—Walker destroyed it by squeezing too hard, shorting the device so it powered off in his hand.
Luckily, Yelena was now removing the bacon from the pan, her expression stern, lips pouting and a crease between her brows. Walker was stunned, to say the least. Mouth agape, hands hanging at his sides, the destroyed tablet in one of them until he set it down on the island, hands pressed firmly on the polished stone, leaning forward to stretch and hide his head between his arms.
“Well, looks like you weren’t quite as aware as you thought…” Yelena rested her hand between John’s shoulder blades, almost comforting, almost cozy, as if to empathize with what he was about to face. “Shit… if you didn’t know…”
They looked at each other, John straightening up the moment he realized what Yelena was talking about, who she meant.
“Fuck!” they swore in unison, so in sync that it was no wonder they were called twins.
“Why are the twins this worked up so early?” Bucky muttered more to himself than to Ava, who arrived almost at the same time as him in the kitchen.
They sat down, a movement that seemed almost choreographed: Ava at one end of the table, Bucky at the other, as if they needed distance from each other but still wanted to be aware of each other’s position. Alexei usually sat between Ava and John, Walker usually beside Bucky. Yelena faced John, next to Bucky, and Bob beside her, close to Ava. It was a family setup, if one analyzed it—except Bucky wasn’t anyone’s father, and Ava had no desire to be a mother.
“Valentina really messed up again,” Yelena commented as she helped John set the breakfast table. The thud of Bucky’s mug against the tabletop was proof that she was far from pleased with whatever Valentina had done.
“When isn’t she?” Ava said, talkative in the morning, letting her tea bag steep in the hot water Yelena always set on the table for her. “The penultimate stunt of hers was sending us off so each of us would try to kill the other, and then she presented us as the New Avengers right after we escaped Bob’s wormhole. What’s the trick this time, the thing with Walker’s image and how that could benefit us? I doubt anything that has both ‘image’ and ‘Walker’ in the same sentence could ever work in our favor, but fine.”
Bucky chuckled nasally, leaning back in his chair to figure out what Yelena was talking about and why she seemed so tense, glancing toward the hallway as if at any moment some armed enemy—or worse—could emerge.
“I’d show you, but this idiot broke the tablet after reading the mission outline,” she said, gesturing with her thumb toward Walker, still dazed, standing behind her with a coffee pot and a plate of more bacon than a battalion could eat—but hey, there were three super soldiers among them… that was more than a battalion’s appetite, especially for bacon.
When Walker sat next to Bucky, he looked genuinely shaken, and that shit made Bucky look at him, almost concerned—who was he kidding, yes, concerned; they were a team now, and Bucky cared about his own.
“Walker?”
“Alexei said he’s not having breakfast, he left fully dressed, in a bright red outfit at this hour,” Bob said, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand—whether to wake up or to block out the sight of a Russian dressed like Santa Claus, no one could tell. “And Mel is right behind me.” He gestured behind him and glanced back; she was supposed to be there, wasn’t she? Then she appeared in the hallway, talking on the phone, probably with Valentina.
“Why do you all have that face?” He looked down so fast it was almost like reliving every teenager’s nightmare in high school. “Did I forget my pants?” He was fully dressed, though wearing one sock of each color, but he hoped no one would notice that—not when the pants were so long they almost dragged on the floor. “Guys, you’re starting to scare me—did something happen?”
“Ah, great, everyone’s gathered here for breakfast.” Mel wasn’t speaking to them, but rather about them to Valentina on the phone. It was noticeable in the way she nodded in agreement with something, sitting in Bob’s spot, between Yelena and Ava, leaving Bob in the seat that would normally belong to Alexei.
She settled there and it felt as if someone had teleported him onto a glacier. Yelena’s eyes were on Walker and him, making Ava and Bucky do the same, though with very different intensities. Yelena stared as if the world was about to collapse; Ava and Bucky looked just as confused as he did, thankfully. John… well, Bob couldn’t see John’s face without turning, and he wouldn’t do that; they hadn’t reached that point in their familiarity yet. That’s why he liked sitting on the other side of the table, between Ava and Yelena, from where he could just look at John without it being awkward or uncomfortable in any way. Next to him, Walker was frozen, standing still, afraid to make a wrong move, cautious about stepping into what Bob had noticed was a very restricted personal space.
“Good morning!” Mel set her phone down on the table, the call ended, a cordial smile on her face that quickly gave way to a look of astonishment when Walker basically barked at her from across the table.
“You’re going to explain what the hell I just saw.” The flat slap of his palm against the table made Bob flinch beside him. It would have startled the others if they hadn’t already been familiar with Walker’s signs of untamed fury—the way he pressed his lips tightly together, the brief, almost imperceptible tic of jerking his head as if it could regulate him, or clear his mind for what was coming next.
“Well, I noticed my systems were breached, but I doubt it was you; the signature left behind is much more consistent with someone far more experienced in this type of information theft.” She spoke calmly, the smile never reaching her eyes, but the way she looked at Yelena made it perfectly clear that she knew who had stolen the information and leaked it to Walker. “We were going to get to that today, at breakfast, to discuss the details.” She unfolded the cloth napkin and placed it on her lap with a dexterity that showed she was no defenseless fish in this sea of sharks—even at a table full of assassins, super soldiers, people whose list of known names would be longer if you counted everyone they’d killed, and, well, of course; Bob.
Bucky and Ava were still out of the loop, but they knew that whatever Valentina had done had struck at Walker’s ego.
“You are the image of America, Walker. You were the official Captain America—”
“Yeah, for two minutes,” Bucky murmured, more to himself than to add to the conversation.
“Yes, I told him that,” Mel said.
“Yeah, she did,” Ava agreed with Yelena, while Bob silently nodded along.
“And,” Mel continued gracefully, as if she hadn’t been interrupted at all, “the image of someone like that is associated with a person distant from everything. You know you messed up; no one here is judging you.” She addressed the elephant in the room, her gaze almost comforting as she tried to reach an angry John Walker across the table. She could swear Bucky’s hand on the back of Walker’s chair was there to hold him back in case he lunged at her like a rabid pit bull.
“You had a Hallmark-family image, something every American desires… But you opened a window for something else that many Americans want.”
“A twink?”
That really piqued Bob’s curiosity. Walker wanted a twink? What the hell!
“A stable relationship, a second chance at love.”
Bucky laughed, and so did Ava. It seemed like everyone there understood where that runaway train was headed—everyone except Bob, which was irritating. Walker looked like a very angry miniature pinscher beside him, literally and figuratively seething. Bob could feel the heat radiating off him in waves.
“And when during the pre-meeting with Valentina was this ever mentioned to me? Because honestly, I don’t remember.”
Mel was the only one plating food, and perhaps out of courtesy, Bob followed suit. Bacon, eggs, pancakes—oh! Walker had heated the maple syrup; he really was amazing in the kitchen.
“Well, we said you’d have a new image, something that would make you less hated by a good portion of the New Avengers’ haters. Ex-military, ex-ranger, father, divorced… you’re ready for a new chapter in life. Valentina said it would be a twist, something unexpected.” She took a bite of bacon; the syrup on it gave an excellent touch, and she seemed pleased with the food.
Ava now had a stack of pancakes on her plate, and the bite she took into her mouth stopped her from laughing out loud. Yelena still looked at Bob as if he were missing something crucial in all this, and he felt the same way.
“Not to mention, according to the forums,” she opened the tablet in her bag, so subtly that Bob thought that besides working as Val’s secretary, she might do well as a spy—maybe with some lessons from Ava and Yelena, she’d be quite sneaky. “Your image is associated with a DILF with potential.”
Were they supposed to be talking about that at breakfast? Bob glanced at John and noticed that John was staring at him. That alone made him flush like an overripe tomato; if John kept staring, he’d probably rot and fall to the floor. He grabbed a piece of bacon and shoved it into his mouth, avoiding eye contact, resisting the temptation to look at Walker.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” John said, hand over his face, elbow resting on the table, with no appetite, and apparently very angry.
Unfortunately—or fortunately—Mel was not joking, and the screen of her tablet reinforced the information she had dropped like a bomb on the breakfast table.
“Okay… but when exactly were you planning to tell him that?”
Yelena played devil’s advocate — though, depending on Mel’s answer, she could easily become the devil herself.
“Well, we did say he’d have the direct assistance of another team member. And that, for this to work, Bob would be by his side.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me it would be to pretend I’m dating Bob!”
The bacon.
It was the bacon’s fault — the reason Bob choked, coughed, slapped his chest, and fanned his face while jumping to his feet, sending his chair crashing noisily to the floor. The bacon was why his eyes filled with tears, why he stumbled to the sink for a glass of water, gulping it down in one go, while Yelena stood beside him, patting his back.
“Why not Bucky?”
Ava blurted out like it was the simplest, most obvious solution in the world.
“Because Congressman Barnes is currently adjusting to his role in the Senate. This would only make things harder for him. Besides, given their rocky history, pairing the two would be almost impossible. It would raise questions that could bring the entire act down.”
Bucky didn’t look angry, but he gave Ava a what the hell? kind of stare. She just shrugged.
“You,” Mel pointed at Ava, “look way too much like Walker’s ex-wife. And no one would ever buy that these two”—she gestured at Yelena and John—“are dating, considering they act like siblings half the time.”
“So… I’m in this?”
Bob had finally caught his breath — almost. His eyes were still watery from the choking fit, his face and neck flushed red, and his hands nervously scratched at his collarbone like he was breaking out in hives.
“There is no ‘this,’” Walker said, making air quotes, clearly refusing to take part in whatever “this” was.
“Well,” Mel started, glancing at Yelena, “I guess you didn’t make it to the end of the file.”
Yelena shook her head — she knew what was in it. John didn’t.
“The information was leaked earlier this morning. Nothing too explicit, but enough to imply it’s you.”
Mel still had the tablet in hand; a few quick taps later, the news page lit up with a large photo of Walker in full combat gear — helmet off, face visible — probably taken during the New Avengers’ public reveal. Bob was beside him, looking a little out of place among people dressed to kill or survive, wearing his cozy, warm jacket.
“Imply? There’s a giant picture of my face right there!”
He looked furious. Bob was still trying to process everything — trying to understand. John was ex-military; some things were likely ingrained so deeply they’d become part of his wiring — maybe even a touch of that built-in, factory-default homophobia. Who knew.
John kept glaring at the screen, huffing like it might somehow change the situation. He tossed the tablet to Yelena, who caught it easily and handed it over to Bob. She already knew what was on it — he didn’t.
He looked down. The photo was excellent — the photographer had caught the exact moment another flash reflected in Walker’s eyes, that striking cerulean blue that made Bob want to drown in it. Next to it was another image — slightly blurred, but unmistakably him. Bob.
The headline, of course, was sensationalist:
Possible affair: U.S. Agent, member of the New Avengers, seen holding hands with the cute guy in the Blue Sweater. A second chance at love — even for someone who had lost everything: family, military career, and reputation. Maybe Christmas came early for the LGBTQIAPN+ community, gifting them a famous face for a cause that’s always fighting to be seen.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Shit! Olivia!” John slammed his forehead against the table, frustrated, exhausted. He wanted to call Valentina and yell at her for hours, but really — what good would that do now?
“Damn, this is even better than movie night — we just need popcorn.”
“And whiskey,” Bucky added, already anticipating the migraine this would bring. “Can someone explain to me how exactly this helps the team’s image?”
“Well… one small cause at a time.”
“Oh, sure. What’s next? The Firefighters Calendar shoot next year?” Yelena shot back as she followed Bob into the hallway. She would’ve gone further with him, but he signaled that he needed some time alone.
He definitely had a lot to process — and not just the bacon that had gone down the wrong way earlier.
He hadn’t even made it halfway down the hallway when the phones around the table started buzzing and ringing. Even the Tower’s monitoring system, which flagged any mention of the New Avengers, went off.
By the time Bob reached the command room, the large screen was already lit up, showing a flood of new headlines — all with photos of someone who looked a lot like Walker, at least from behind, and another figure who looked a lot like him. Enough to make Bob wonder if the blurry, shaky photo really was them.
They were holding hands. “Walker,” or his doppelgänger, wore a baseball cap — something Bob had never seen him in. Christmas decorations filled the background of the store windows. Out of context, they looked like any couple doing their holiday shopping.
They were screwed.
Astronomically screwed.
And even more so Bob — who barely had the courage to be alone in a room with Walker before… and now, apparently, was dating him.
Hashtags flooded the screen:
#MysteriousTwink
#IsUSAgentGay
#TheBiFlagLives #GodBlessAmericaAndHerPatrioticAgent
#DilfVsTwink
“I’m thirty, for fuck’s sake!”
He barked at no one — because no one was there to hear it.
Just him… and the endless stream of tags climbing higher and higher on the screen, suggesting that, unfortunately… Val’s plan might actually work — as long as none of them lost their cool or screwed it all up.