A/N: Even though I wanted to come back with a Loki fic, I finally managed to watch thunderbolts (twice in the past week) and the brain worms made me write this. Sorry, I'm obsessed with him (with all of them). I hope I've managed to do him justice and that this isn't awful as it's midnight where I am and I'm dead tired lolll. I'm very hopeful that I'll write more about these losers (affectionate). please enjoy <333
tw: one mention of vomit, one mention of meth (sign twirling chicken), two idiots in love (deserves a warning), ava's takeout box (it's gnarly ;) ), like one sentence mention of the void, talk of loneliness
words: 2017
ps: thanks for the divider!!! @cafekitsune
You’d never really thought you’d get to do this. Well, you’d already done it once or twice, but still. You were going up the elevator of the newly repurposed Avengers Tower. A novel, unexpected perk of having randomly met Yelena in a drugstore about a year ago. She’d been in New York for some odd job at the time, and had been in the drugstore by your apartment, buying gauze and painkillers. You’d gone in on a whim on your way home from work, needing some vitamin supplements, which happened to be in the same aisle she’d been in. You remember complimenting her on her hair, and how it had started up a conversation, which had led to an exchange of numbers and lots of subsequent texting. Her job didn’t allow for much time to see one another in person, but it allowed for texts and facetimes paired with nightly drinks and debriefs.
You were happier now that Yelena’s permanent home seemed to have become New York, because it meant way more chances to actually hang out. But she loved to leech off of your apartment’s proximity to a really nice bakery with high quality bakes. Even worse, she’d brought a box of brownies back to the Tower once and the one leech had turned into six.
The ‘New Avengers’, as they were now known, had even added you to some new group chat with a primary function to beg you for more desserts from the bakery. At this point, you felt like you should be getting paid at least a little something for delivery of goods to a bunch of superhumans.
The group chat had lit up with messages at around noon today with Alexei, Yelena and John asking for yet another box of chocolate chip cookies. Ava had followed by sending a prayer emoji, and Bucky had sent a thumbs up, which was his way of signalling that he agreed with the request. You’d decided to take pity on them, because they’d been on a rough mission a mere few days ago and you hadn’t seen them since their return.
When the elevator finally opened on the right floor, you were surprised by the serene silence that greeted you. Maybe they’d all finally managed to broker some sort of ‘silent time’ deal, which you were sure Bucky in particular would enjoy. You looked around as you walked further into the open room.
“… Hello?”
A head popped out from behind a wall.
“Hey!” Bob replies, shooting you a sort of hesitant and confused smile.
“Oh, Bob! Hi… are the others.. here…? I got the cookies they begged for.”
He frowns slightly.
“Did you not check your phone…? I texted in the group chat a while ago. They sort of left on an urgent mission two hours ago.”
Your face falls.
“Oh. I didn’t check… I just went right after work.” You groan slightly, throwing your head back to look up at the ceiling in annoyance.
“Hey, hey… it’s fine, you know. They should be back tomorrow, anyways. The cookies will still be fresh.” He reassures you with a bashful smile, standing up from the armchair he’d grown fond of reading in.
You nod in response, moving over to the kitchen to set the box of cookies on the marble counter right as Bob approaches.
“You could stay.” He offers furtively.
You chance a glance at him.
“No. I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose. I’m sure it’s peaceful here without them-”
“It’s actually pretty lonely… Quiet has always made me antsy. I don’t know how you live alone and stuff.” He admits.
“Yeah… I get you. Sometimes I freak out by how quiet my place is, too. Makes it real easy for thoughts to spiral.”
Your gazes meet and you share a small smile.
“… How are you feeling? Not… joining them yet?” You ask cautiously.
He shakes his head.
“I’ve been doing better lately…” He spares a glance to you. “But… yeah, some days are harder. Just… don’t wanna risk…” He clears his throat as he trails off.
You nod and move to gently pat his shoulder, but stop short, catching yourself. You knew Bob could be a bit hesitant with physical touch with people he didn’t really know. You didn’t want to assume the amount of space you took up in his life, and so you retracted your hand slowly, acting as if you’d gone to pick some lint off his clothing.
He smiles as he sees what you were wanting to do, his cheeks warming just slightly.
He clears his throat.
“Really. Please stay for dinner. Or a movie, or something. I was dreading having another dinner alone anyway. I can cook for us.”
You smile at his generous offer.
Out of all of them, you found that besides Yelena, Bob had been the easiest for you to befriend. He didn’t open up very easily. Well, none of them did, really, but he was more particular about how he went about it. And obviously, he’d have bad days where no one could really get as much of a word out of him, so the friendship between the two of you took patience more than anything else. However, it was evident that you both wanted it to work, and when it worked, it was great.
“Yeah? You’re becoming the Tower’s very own housewife, huh?” You tease, looking over to the empty sink and the loaded drying rack.
“Hey, superheroes never talk about their house cleaner, but their asses would be toast without one.” He boasts, opening the fridge to look at the ingredients.
He tilts his head, his shaggy brown hair bouncing slightly with the motion.
“Uhh…” He pauses, assessing his options. “Do you feel like chicken?”
You snort.
“Is that all you guys have in that massive fridge?”
He shuffles some things around in the fridge, checking for more dinner possibilities.
“…Um, okay, yeah. There’s also a box of takeout from Ava that is slowly going bad. Might’ve grown legs by now.” He says, popping his head out from behind the fridge door to shoot you a playful grin.
You make a face.
“Chicken, please.”
He gives you that sort of endearing side smirk he tends to do as he pulls the chicken out of the fridge. You, on the other hand, move to dispose of Ava’s takeout. From the smell of it, it really could have grown legs. And ran a marathon with them, too.
You chat amicably as he cooks, making amicable small talk.
“Did you learn to make this dish from your time as a sign slinging chicken?” You ask as you set the table for the two of you.
He groans and throws his head back while stirring the chicken as it cooks in a pan.
“Why did I ever let Yelena spread that part of my CV around?”
“Spread it around? It’s only me, Bob.” You laugh.
He raises a brow. “Dangerous enough, if you ask me.”
“I’m not a secret agent or something. So don’t worry, I won’t spread that sensitive information around.”
He huffs.
“Not why it worries me that you know about that.”
“Why then?” You tilt your head. “Oh, is it because you’re scared I’ll want to see pictures? Wait. Do you still have the costume? Because if that’s the case-”
“Oh, nah. The original one had to be burned because I threw up while wearing it. Meth. And stuff.”
You burst into laughter, and he turns his head to look at you as you do, a smile making it onto his face, too.
“Okay, just the pics, then.”
“Uh huh. I’ll try to scrounge some footage up for you. But only if you swear a blood oath not to spread it around to the fellow sign slingers here. They can’t learn my technique, y’know.”
The banter flows easily, and it all feels comfortable. It’s like the minimalistic décor of this floor of the Tower turns colourful and bright and grows wings and the whole room gets warmer. Being here, with Bob, feels like getting hugged by the very air you two breathe in.
Just as you’ve started to dig in, you ask something that’s come to mind while sitting at the dinner table.
“How does your dynamic even work? All of you, I mean. Is it more… family like now? Awkward family dinner? What are we talking?”
He snorts, his fork halfway to his mouth.
“Awkward family dinner…” He mulls it over. “Yeah, I guess. I mean… we try. There’s usually at least someone missing from the table, but I think… yeah, I think we all try in our own way to make something of this place, to make it more ours. Not just like… for each individual, y’know? Think we’ve all been alone for too long to keep that up.”
You don’t even know why you asked him that, but it relieves you to hear that they all try for each other. That they, that Bob, isn’t alone anymore. You nod your head, smiling softly.
“… Is it ever lonely for you to live alone? I mean… I dunno if you have friends coming over often or something…” He says, taking a bite of food right as he finishes speaking, as if to keep himself busy.
“I mean, I have some friends coming over, sure. ‘Lena when she’s feeling particularly annoyed by you guys. No offense. Or other friends, yeah. But it’s not constant or too often. So yeah, I guess it gets lonely sometimes. Winter is worst, I find. The shadows feel longer somehow. Creepy.”
He nods, seeming perturbed by something.
“So… like no… no… permanent visitors to your apartment lately?” He asks casually, though he doesn’t seem quite as nonchalant as he might be trying to be.
You purse your lips.
“Well, nah… I’ve been busy with work, so I haven’t really had time for any sort of hangouts or anything. Is that what you meant?”
He nods quickly, quickly eating another forkful. His shoulders seemed lighter all of a sudden.
“Cool. Cool, yeah. Not the work adding up, I mean. But just the… yeah.” He shuts up after that.
You smirk down at your plate in confused amusement, and you two finish off your dinner in pleasant, if not somewhat awkward, silence.
You settle in on the couch after washing up post-dinner. You sit in the middle of the couch, with lots of space to spare on either side, but Bob seems content to sit pretty close to you. You find that you don’t mind. You let Bob pick the movie, and he ends up settling on some sort of slasher film from the 90s.
As the movie starts building up the scares, you feel him shuffle closer to you just slightly.
“… S’okay if you’re scared.” He says softly, moving his hand over the back of the couch in a slightly laggy move, as if pushing through resistance.
You look over at him.
“I’m okay for now.” You reassure him with a small smile. “Is this you saying you’re scared?”
“Wha- No. Nah.” He says with a little huff. “I mean… I’ve seen this before, so it’s fine.” He admits sheepishly, the bravado dropping slightly.
Your laughter makes the back of your head hit his arm softly. You pause, and look over at him, only to find him watching you with a small smile on his face, making his smile lines show.
You feel warm all over again and move to pull away.
“No… stay. Please.” He whispers, not moving at all.
“Are you sure?”
He nods.
“Yeah. Yeah, I want you to. I want- yeah.”
You nod and sit up slightly, just so you can sit more comfortably, letting his forearm cushion the back of your neck. You make a point of putting all your effort into going back to watching the movie afterwards. Bob returns his focus to it, too, but when he adds commentary to it now, you can sort of feel more of a confidence, maybe even some smugness, coming from him. You think it suits him.
Some rough ideas for Bobbert's carnival costume. It's supposed to be based on the costume Pierrot usually wears but with some cutesy flair added. I don't think that comes through, but it is cute. Once their friends get their costumes designed, I'll probably settle on what sort of headwear and accessories they have.
