Are we out of the woods yet?
Pairing: John Walker x reader. Word count: 6.2k
Description: You and John Walker are nothing more than two idiots who can’t stand each other. But when a mission goes wrong and you fall through cracking ice, he does everything in his power to keep you alive.
Warnings/Tags: Enemies to ‘you saved my life, what are we now?’, hurt/comfort, drowning in frigid water, CPR, body heat. You might fall in love with him. Thunderbolts make a cheeky appearance.
Notes: This was the most voted option for my next fic, it’s uh … it’s a bit long, yeah 🤭. Enjoy 🫶🏼
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You'd lost a stupid bet to Yelena, so stupid you couldn't even remember what it was, but you were currently living the consequences of it.
Which meant being paired on a mission with none other than John Walker.
Yes, the myth, the legend, the annoying, all star american asshole.
You'd managed to avoid being paired with him for a while. After all, the last few missions you were together had ended in setbacks, for the simple reason you two just couldn't get along. We're talking about a history of missed targets, blown covers, a few stray bullets aimed in each other's general direction, and maybe ... one crashed jet.
So Bucky and Yelena avoided it at all costs when planning for missions.
That was until now, all because Yelena had gotten bored. A lost bet landed you back on another jet with him of all people.
Mission site was in the middle of a frozen forest, where sunlight hadn't touched the snowy ground in years. Even inside the jet, you could feel the cold creeping through the metal walls as you got closer to the drop point.
You were sent to retrieve intel from a highly guarded facility that had made enemies with Valentina. Maybe eliminate a few targets if it came to that. Quite standard, even easy if you actually knew how to work together as a team.
The worst part? Their security perimeter stretched for miles. Which meant you had to go through a rough landing between the trees, far away from the base, and then hike through thick snow and unforgiving cold just to get in there.
Any enhanced teammate would've been better than you. Either Bucky or Alexei ... maybe they just didn't want to stroll around for miles with Walker either.
Couldn't blame them.
So Yelena, influenced by Bob surely, thought it would be funny to send you. Now that was the worst part, doing all of it with him.
You didn't even know what it was about Walker that riled you up so badly. Maybe it was his superiority complex. Maybe it was his agressiveness when he didn't like the way you planned things. Or how he never took the blame when things went sideways, even when he'd done something reckless too. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way he looked a little too good when he was pissed at you, those veins in his neck, chest heaving, strands of sweaty hair sticking to his forehead–stop.
Let's go back to 'You simply don't get along'.
It was easier to hate him than to name ...whatever the hell this was.
"Can you stop doing that? I'm trying to land this thing, or are you looking to crash another plane?" Walker snapped from the pilot seat, not even turning to look at you.
You stopped for a second, realizing you'd started pacing in the back of the jet. It was the only thing keeping your body warm, and your mouth shut.
Until he had to open his.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Is the super soldier getting distracted?" you said sarcastically. "Maybe if you actually paid attention to the plane this time, you won’t crash another one."
"We crashed because you couldn't sit still for five seconds … like right now."
"Wow, you're right. I brought it down with my bad attitude. My apologies, Cap."
You noticed the way his posture tensed on the seat, knuckles immediately flexing on the controls ... why was he so easy to rile up?
And why the hell was that kinda ... No. Stop it.
John didn't know what it was about you that riled him up so bad either. Maybe it was the constant defiance, that bratty attitude he just couldn't allow. Maybe it was how you never followed his orders, even when he was right. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way you kept running your mouth and he could only think about his mouth on yours to shut you up–no.
He just hated you, that was it.
"Just sit your ass down and put on your belt. We're about to land," he muttered, trying not to sound like he wanted to throw you out mid flight. "I don't know how bad it's gonna be landing into the woods."
You figured it was better to comply, not for him, but because the mission hadn't even started yet and part of the bet with Yelena was to finish the mission successfully, without killing each other in the process.
A lost bet was a lost bet, after all.
You plopped down onto the copilot seat beside him, letting your eyes roll as you buckled in. John just side eyed you.
"Good girl," he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear.
You went upright in your seat, looking at him with disbelief. "What the hell did you just call me?"
All you saw was a half smirk on his face, but before you could unbuckle and force him to say it again, the jet landed harshly into the snowy woods, trees scraping against the reinforced windshield as the aircraft rolled for some distance until it came to an abrupt halt.
You groaned when your head knocked hard against the leather copilot seat. From the corner of your eye, you saw his head snap toward you.
"You okay?" he asked, already unbuckling his belt.
If you really looked into it, it sounded a bit off from someone who had made very clear how much he didn't care about you. But apparently he seemed to have forgotten that for a moment, as he walked over and knelt in front of your seat, fingers working quickly to unbuckle you as he scanned your face for any signs of a concussion.
And for a moment you believed the hit gave you one, because there was no way in hell this was real.
John Walker...being nice to you? Caring?
You blinked a few times at the sight of him crouched at your feet, heart thumping so loud on your chest you were sure he could hear it. John's eyebrows furrowed to your lack of response.
You considered faking the concussion so you could blame your dazed state to that and not to the fact that his large hands rested on your knees like he wasn’t the last person who wanted to touch you.
"I'm good," you finally replied, barely audible, but enough for him to let out a breath he was holding.
Your eyes dropped to your lap, and he was suddenly aware of the placement of his hands. He quickly cleared his throat, standing up to somehow pretend to shrug it off. He grabbed his shield from the floor and tightened it up in his arm, maybe a little too hard so he could control his own heartbeat.
"Okay then … time to go to work."
You cleared your throat too, nodding and trying to ignore the heat that flushed across your cheeks.
Must've been the landing... yeah, just that.
——
The rough landing seemed to had messed with the jet's communication system, leaving you unable to notify anyone back at the watchtower that you'd made it safely.
You barely got two steps outside before regretting every decision that led you to this point. The stupid bet with Yelena. Stupid Bob.
Actually, scratch that ... Yelena was taking the yelling for the both of them.
Even layered head to toe with Valentina's high tech tactical suit, the cold crept in through every seam and zipper. The forest around you was quiet, and too white, just frost covered pines and the sound of boots crunching the snow below you.
And... him.
He walked ahead of you, carrying the map completely unfazed by the freezing air, head high and posture perfect, with that ridiculous bent shield attached to his arm.
"Walker, why do you get the map?" you asked, not even trying to hide your irritation.
"Because I actually know how to read it," he replied without looking back.
You rolled your eyes. Honestly, you didn't even want the map, your crossed arms were staying glued to your chest for warmth. Picking a fight with him was just the most entertaining way to stay conscious.
You walked in silence for about fifteen minutes before you started talking again, not because you had anything relevant to say, but because it kept your jaw from freezing shut.
"How much longer?" You asked, not intending it to come out as whiny as it did, but the cold sinking in your bones was making your brain foggy.
"Can't keep up, already?" he mocked. "Want me to take out the Sentry I keep in my pocket? Maybe he can fly us there."
You inhaled sharply, resisting the sudden urge to stab him. No one would know ... right? Mission incident.
Just an incident.
You shook the thought away almost as quickly, you still needed him to get out of there. That didn't mean you couldn't mess with him a little longer.
So you sniffled.
"You're so mean, John," you mumbled, voice laced with fake hurt.
He stopped in his tracks, shocked about two things. First, did you just call him John? And second ... were you sobbing?
He immediately spun around to check, and Jesus, not a single tear. Just a goddamn grin spreading across your face. His jaw was tight as he turned away, clearly realizing he'd been played.
"You're impossible," he muttered, shaking his head as he began walking again. You laughed.
"I'm actually cold ... not that you'd get it Walker, you're biologically incapable of suffering."
"Can you just be quiet for two seconds?" He groaned. "Maybe shutting up will help you preserve some energy."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you huffed, "Are we saving that energy for all the arguing we're gonna do later?" you were panting now, hating the way your breaths came shorter from the lack of oxygen.
He stopped again, turned just enough to glance at you over his shoulder.
"You good back there, or do I need to carry you?"
There was a part of it that sounded like he actually gave a fuck, but most of it was just him being sarcastic. Or at least that's what you told yourself.
"Oh, please," you scoffed, trudging past him in the snow. "I'd rather get naked here in the cold than be carried by you." He let out a short, dry laugh, and continued trailing behind you.
Yes, fighting with you was entertaining to him too.
The two of you went deeper into the snowy woods for a while, until the trail curved into a clearing. There, a wide, frozen lake stretched in front of you, splitting the path you were supposed to get across. It was lightly dusted in snow, surface thin enough to be a problem but not so fragile you couldn't maybe cross it if you were careful.
If you were careful.
Walker stepped in front of you, eyes scanning the amount of space the lake covered. He cursed under his breath, realizing going around was not an option if he wanted to get this mission done before the night fell and you froze to death.
"I don't like the look of this," he muttered, shaking his head.
It didn't take long for him to get into his I-was-a-soldier-once persona, running through scenarios in his head until he chose the one he seemed to be satisfied with.
Surprise! It was always the same one: he leads.
"Okay ... you're gonna have to stay right behind me. I'll check the ice as I go, you step where I step, got it?" He turned to you, lifting his eyebrows expecting an answer while you looked at him with an annoyed expression.
Yes, you knew it was the safest way to do it, he just didn't have to sound so condescending about it.
"Yes ... got it Walker, thank you," you rolled your eyes, eager for him to just go so you could get this over with.
He sighed, and turned his back to you. He adjusted his shield on his arm and stretched his neck from side to side. You snorted, why was he so dramatic all the time?
"Let's go," he muttered, before testing the first step by tapping into the ice with his boot.
You made your way like that, he gave cautious long steps, first putting part of his weight to test it, then all of it, before he could step forward with you behind him. You kept yourself close to him, as much as you told yourself you didn't enjoy it, the broadness of his back covered you from the chill air and his body was so warm you could feel it through his suit.
But you didn't notice when he came to an abrupt halt, lifting his right arm up as a 'stop sign' a second too late, causing you to collide against his back.
"What the– ouch!" You cursed when you crashed into him. He didn't even budge from his spot, it was like hitting a wall. A six foot two brick wall. "Do you mind warning me before stopping like that? you are literally made of concrete," you complained, rubbing your forehead.
"I signed it when I stopped," he furrowed his brows, pointing the hand he kept in the air.
"You are supposed to sign it before you stop, soldier boy. Or how about you just talk like a normal human being?"
"Listen, I think this is a thinner section, so we have to walk through slower. S l o w e r, is it clear enough for you now?" he said slowly, emphasizing the world 'slower' as he made a walking motion with his fingers on the palm of his hand.
God, stabbing him never sounded like a better idea.
"Jesus Walker, do you even hear yourself when you talk? just because you're leading doesn't mean you have to be a dick about it," you were almost yelling, completely fuming at this point.
"If you don't like the way I lead," he snapped, gesturing sharply in front of him, "then by all means, go ahead, take the lead. Break the ice if you want. I won't catch you if you drown."
You narrowed your eyes at him.
He didn't expect you to actually move.
But you did. Because you'd rather drown out of spite than let him think he had the final word. So you squared your shoulders and strode right past him without hesitation.
His hand shot out to grab your shoulder. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm taking the lead," you shrugged, and he looked at you in disbelief.
"Are you serious right now–"
You yanked your shoulder from his grasp before he could finish. "Dead serious."
You kept walking without testing your steps, John's eye twitched at the sound of your boots hitting the ice. At this point you had forgotten how cold you were, just from the anger at him alone.
"Oh great ... yeah, keep stomping like that. You want me to throw the shield too? Maybe help you break it faster?"
"No, Walker, I don't want your stupid taco shield. Besides, I'm lighter than you."
You kept your pace, ice creaking faintly beneath you, but you ignored it. You were almost halfway through. When his firm hand latched onto your forearm, rougher this time, stopping you in your tracks.
"Stop doing that!" he snapped, holding you firmer so you wouldn't let go. "You can't just walk off and–"
"God, stop stopping me!" you shouted back, twisting violently in his grip. "Let go of me, Walker!"
But this time, he wasn't gonna let you. You exhaled loudly, feeling helpless, so you stomped your foot on the thin ice. Great … you were letting John Walker make you throw a tantrum. He just got angrier at your reckless move.
"I gave you an order!" He finally snapped, making your eyes go wide in surprise to his audacity.
Where the hell does this man get off?
You just stood there in silence for a few seconds that felt like an eternity, his grip still firm on your forearm. Your brows furrowed, chest rising up and down from the confrontation. You swore your head was about to explode.
"You know what, Walker," you muttered, your voice was low because you felt that if you raised it any louder you were about to have a stroke. "Maybe if you used half of the brain inside your big stupid head you would realize you're not the boss of me."
He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. His posture relaxed slightly, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"I'm just trying to keep you alive," he muttered, like he was trying to make you understand something he couldn't quite put into words.
You saw a flicker of something different in his eyes, making you lower your arm to stop resisting against his grip. You wanted to believe him, you really did. Flashes of the way he'd looked concerned about you back in the jet invaded your mind.
But no. You wouldn't give him the pleasure.
"I don't need you to do that," you whispered, and when you noticed a slight falter in his grip, you forcibly pulled yourself back.
You turned around to continue making your way, planning to ignore him the rest of the mission. The sound of cracking ice didn't even register to him until it was too late.
"Wait, stop–" he blurted out, reaching a hand to stop you, but you had already stepped forward.
The clear layer beneath your boots gave way in an instant. Freezing water swallowed you whole as you lost sight on John, who stood on what was left of the ice on the surface.
It wasn't just cold, it was paralyzing.
Your breath got caught somewhere in your lungs, never making it out. You tried to swim up but everything was so heavy, your limbs, your thoughts ... the world. You could only watch as you were dragged down from the light above.
This was it. Your last dumb mission, stuck with him of all people.
John's knees hit the ground hard, scrambling to the edge of the crack you'd fallen in, peering into the dark, freezing water. But he could see nothing.
"Shit–shit ... where are you?” he looked frantically, but there was no way he could get you out like that, the current had pulled you under.
He inmmediatly dropped the shield attached to his arm, the goddamn map, and didn't even think twice before diving in. The cold punched the air from his lungs, but he didn't care, he could take it. You couldn't.
His eyes went wide in the dark, searching through the blurry water for you. Minutes passed, but he refused to acknowledge how long it was taking him to find you, how his enhanced body was already pleading for oxygen.
But then, in the distance he saw something. A figure ... your body, sinking in a way it didn't belong to someone fighting for their life.
Maybe you weren't fighting anymore.
No. God please … no.
He got to you in three large strokes, grabbed you with one arm, and pushed up, only to be met with thick, unbroken ice above. He cursed, accidentally swallowing some water. He slammed his fist into it once, twice, he didn't know how many it took until it broke wide open, cracks stained with the blood of his hand.
It didn't matter, he would heal.
John bursted through the surface with you held tight to his chest, coughing, ignoring the cold sinking into his bones as he dragged you into a thicker part of the ice like his life depended on it.
Because it did. Because yours did. But you weren't breathing anymore.
"No no no ... hey, hey, come on–" he groaned, laying your head on his lap, gently tapping your cheek, but you didn’t open your eyes. "Fuck."
He cradled your head to place you flat on the ice, and kneeled beside you. You were still, the image of your limp body broke something inside him he didn’t even know was there.
"Don't do this to me," he muttered, as he started CPR with just one blood stained hand so his strength wouldn't crack your ribs on top of everything else. "Come on. Come on, don't– not like this ... I didn't mean it dammit!"
He shook his head, wet hair splashing cold water everywhere, aggressively wiping his eyes with his free hand, before going down to blow oxygen into your mouth.
"Breathe ... please breathe. You're not–you're not allowed to go out like this, you hear me?"
He kept just kept going, and didn't plan on giving up. Compress, oxygen. Compress, oxygen. Over and over.
Until you finally jerked under him.
Water burst from your mouth in a choking cough, body lurching forward, your hands reaching out to cling on something, anything.
John.
He exhaled like he hadn't since he saw you go under the water and immediately scooped you up against his chest, a large hand placed behind your head to steady you. You gasped as you shivered, and he just felt this excruciating pain in his chest.
"Okay ... okay. You're okay," he mumbled, more to himself than you. "You're going to be just fine."
He just stroked your hair, as he kept muttering 'you're okay' 'you're alive'. You coughed a few more times, clinging into the heat of his chest that escaped the wet fabric of his clothes. That's when you realized he was soaking and shaking too, he'd actually pulled you out.
"You ... you went after me," you blurted out.
John wanted to punch himself in that moment. Repeatedly. Why did he have to say all those things to you? He knew damn well he would go after you every time.
He held you tighter, and placed a kiss on your forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, voice cracking, something you never thought would hear from him, but man was he holding you like his life depended on it.
You wanted to say something else, but your teeth began chattering uncontrollably. You weakly pulled apart to look at him, maybe to let him know you felt your body giving out, maybe to look at him clearly one last time before your eyes began blurring more. And he saw it, he knew.
"No–no don't do that. Stay with me, alright? Listen to me! Just this once."
You're not the boss of me, Walker, you thought.
He finally stood up, pulling you up into his arms, one hand braced under your knees, the other across your back.
"We're heading back to the jet. I need you to stay awake for me."
You just managed to nod, curling against his chest.
He left his shield behind, Val would get it back and if she didn't who cares. That wasn't important to him now, you were.
He miraculously managed to make it out the frozen lake without it breaking again, running right back into the forest path you'd already hiked through.
At this point, he didn't feel the cold anymore.
Didn't feel the bite of ice in his clothes, or the burning ache in his chest as he launched himself through the trees. You were trembling in his arms, he knew you were getting worse the longer he took to get you to shelter.
"Hey," John barked, louder than he meant to, like volume would anchor you to him. "C'mon. Say something, just keep talking."
You wanted to roll your eyes and laugh at him. He sounded way too desperate, for someone who couldnt stand you this morning. "You suck," you managed to blurt out, and you felt his laugh vibrate in his chest.
"Good girl," he replied, trying to get you mad at him like he'd done earlier in the jet, just so you talked to him.
Just so you stayed alive out of pure spite.
But you didn't fight him this time, you didn't want to anymore. He could boss you around all he wanted as long as you could feel the warmth of his body. As long as he kept running through the woods, holding you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him.
"Eyes open. Stay with me." He groaned, when he didn't get the reaction he wanted. "Just a little longer, alright? Yell at me, go ahead, just keep saying shit. Insult my haircut. Tell me I ruined your day ... anything."
You made a noise, maybe a word, but it sounded wrong. Your head lolled against his shoulder and your lips were turning blue.
"Fuck," he hissed. "You're not dying on me."
The jet was on sight now, slightly buried in snow between the crashed pines. The second he reached the ramp, he stumbled up with you in his arms, kicking the door open. The inside was less cold than outside, but it was not enough.
He laid you gently on the copilot seat, and turned to the controls, desperately flipping switches to get the jet's heating system going, and fiddling with the comms settings to try to get to the team.
"Bucky? Yelena? Anybody, come in–" he barked, looking at you over his shoulder. "We need immediate extraction."
Nothing came back, the signal was still down.
"Goddammit." He slammed the control panel, a let out a string of curses under his breath.
He finally turned to your figure on the seat, and felt his whole chest cave in. You weren't moving anymore, just breathing shallow and slow. He could hear your heartbeat slowing down as you stared at him with half lidded eyes.
The jet had barely warmed up. It was like being inside a fucking freezer. There was no time, he knew what he needed to do.
"Fuck it."
He stripped off his gear quickly. The heat of his body had already dried off most of it. Still, he got rid of his tactical suit, gloves, the compression shirt he wore inside, until he was left in his underwear, his muscled body steaming against the crisp air.
He knelt by your chair, then hesitantly placed his hands on your soaked layers.
"Sorry ... I have to do this," he muttered, as his fingers found your suit's zipper. "I know you hate me. I know this is the last thing you want ... but I need you to live more than I need your permission right now."
His hands were careful. Gentle, even as they worked fast. He took off all layers, except for your underwear. His jaw clenched the whole time as he tried to keep his eyes from looking more than necessary.
He then lifted you off the seat so he could sit instead, placing you on his lap. He pulled you as close as he could, chest to chest, arms wrapped around your freezing body trying to trap as much heat as he could between you. He tilted your face gently, tucking it under his chin.
And God, he was warm.
By this point you had stopped shivering, but he knew it meant you were just at the worst stage of it. Your lips were the shade of the dead, skin worryingly lifeless, and you couldn't quite figure out what was going on anymore. That you were being held and protected.
"I got you," he whispered, kissing your head like he did when he got you out of the water. But that time you'd gotten back to him. Right now you were drifting away. "I got you. You're gonna be okay."
"John?" His name came out unsure, as if you didn't remember he was even with you. As if you didn't remember you never called him John.
"Yeah it's me ... it's Walker. You hate my guts, remember? ... come on, stay with me," he held you tighter, wishing there was a way to give you all the serum going through his veins, even if it was him dying instead of you. "I didn't mean it. Any of it. You can punch me when you get better. I'll let you."
His hands ran through your back, your arms, rubbing warmth into your skin, trying to coax you back.
"I'll carry you through another mile of snow. I'll lose all the bets to Yelena if it means you get to yell at me one more time."
He didn't know what he was saying anymore. And it's not like you were hearing him anyways, time got strange after that.
You drifted in and out, sometimes aware of his arms around you, sometimes lost in the static of your own head. But slowly, like fog clearing, your mind began to catch up with your body. You felt heat all around you, like you were wrapped in something solid and safe.
And... bare.
Your cheek was pressed to bare skin.
John Walker's skin.
You blinked against the soft rise and fall of his chest, his heart thumping under your ear.
"...you're warm," you whispered, barely audible.
For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. But you shifted in his grip enough to let him know that you were there, that you were real again. Thanks to him.
"You're alive," he exhaled. His hand instinctively cupped the back of your head, fingers threading carefully through damp strands. "Jesus ... you're alive."
"You sound surprised," you rasped, lips ghosting a smirk.
"I watched you fall through the ice." His voice cracked on the word fall. "Yeah ... I'm fucking surprised."
"I can tell ... your heart is racing," you mumbled, voice coming out hoarse from your dry throat.
The adrenaline was still screaming through his bloodstream. He wanted to play it off, crack a joke, maybe roll his eyes and say yeah, thanks for ruining the mission, but none of that came out.
"Yeah ... well," he breathed out. "You scared the hell out of me."
There. He said it. Fuck it.
"I thought you hated me."
"I tried to.. . God knows, you make it easy."
That made you huff a shaky laugh. He ignored the way his heart skipped at that. You were laughing again. Alive. In his arms.
"You're not exactly sunshine yourself, John."
John. His name sounded so pretty coming out your lips when you were not dying.
"I know."
That was probably the first conversation that didn't end with you wanting to punch him in the face. Something had shifted.
Maybe almost dying was all it took.
It was like the cold had finally frozen the part of your brain that hated John Walker. Or the heat of his body had melted the part of you that still tried to pretend you did.
You nestled your face closer to his neck, trying to soak in the impossible warmth of his skin.
"I didn't mean it either ... you know. All the times I said you were insufferable."
He didn't say anything.
"I mean, you are ... but–" You exhaled. "I think I just didn't want to deal with whatever this was."
"Yeah," he said after a moment. "Same."
John looked down at you, still cradled to him like glass. You were watching him now, and not with the usual disgust behind your eyes. This time it was something... softer.
And he was close. Too close. You could feel the heat of him everywhere, his arms still locked tight around you. And his gaze had stopped hiding whatever had been buried under all those arguments and insults.
He tilted his head, eyes flickering down to your lips for a second too long. That's when something snapped inside you. You surged forward before your brain could catch up.
It wasn't even cute, not at first. It was cold dry lips, desperate touches, and months of pent up tension crashing together. But then he softened, his hand cradled your face like you were something fragile, and yours clung to his neck because maybe if you held tighter, this wouldn't end.
But it did, because he pulled apart, cause he was still holding himself back. He shook his head.
"I want you alive first ... fully conscious," he whispered against your lips. "Not ... not like this."
Of course he wasn't sure if this was real. If this was just some kind of 'thanks for saving me' type kiss. Like tomorrow you would wake up and remember you hated him, and he wasn't sure if he could take that.
You shook your head, you have never known what you wanted more than in this moment. Maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off. Maybe it was the brush with death.
"No," you shook your head. "Ive never felt more alive ... and I'm not wasting another second."
John opened his mouth to argue, but you kissed him before he could. You took all the strenght left in your body to kiss him deeper, until it was less about the anger, the insecurities, and more about everything else you hadn't said yet.
And you showed him, with your hands running through his hair, with your tongue playing with his, that this kiss wasn't a just a thank you, it was an apology ... a finally. Because you still didn’t know what the hell this was, but neither of you wanted to fight it anymore.
You pulled back breathless, but you were still so close that you could feel his chest rising and falling against yours. And then ... you both laughed.
Awkwardly. Like you didn’t know what to do with each other now.
"...What on earth was that?" you whispered, smiling through the adrenaline crash.
"I ...I don't know," he muttered, a little dazed.
You knew you should be panicking, overthinking. You should be denying everything that just happened. Yet still, you're both laughing again, naturally, like you didn't spend the last months wanting to stab each other.
Something loosened inside you, and you closed your eyes. His warmth, John was so damn cozy and soft ... almost unreasonably so.
Until he oppened his mouth again. Because he was still John Walker after all.
"So... what was that about you rather being naked around here than letting me carry you?" He allowed himself to tease you, because he could now.
Because everything you said in your stupid argument came true. You just didn't expect him to rub it in. You opened your mouth in surprise, hitting his chest, but this time it was playful.
"Haha, very funny. What was that about you not going after me if I drowned?" you snarked back.
He chuckled, and god ... it felt so easy now. He didn't have to say something mean back this time, too many months wasted on that.
So he just leaned in and crashed his lips against you.
Because you were cold. Because you were warm. Because your lips were right there and he just saved your life. And he was sick of pretending he hated the sound of your voice.
This time what interrupted your little make out you was the voice of someone else.
"... h-hello? ... guys come in. We got your message, Walker. Already on our way. Are you both okay?"
Yelena's voice coming out the jet’s comms made your tongues freeze mid kiss. You split apart like teenagers caught making out in a janitors closet.
You were suddenly aware of your very compromising position ... almost naked.
"Oh my god ... oh my god, John," you panicked, looking at the pile of wet clothes on the floor. "She's not even gonna let us explain it to her."
"Just ... don't answer yet," he hissed. "Give me a second to ... it's just my face, I can't—" He turned away from you.
"Are you blushing?" You chuckled through your panic.
"No ... It's the cold, shut up."
"Guys, do you copy? Hellooo ... this is Yelena … I swear to God if you two are dead, I'm going to be very upset."
You scrambled upright, before she thought about accessing the jets cameras or video calling, and tapped the console to talk to her.
"This is Walker and uh ... me," you said, voice slightly breathless. "We're alive, mission compromised. But we're... okay."
There was a pause, and you thought maybe you saved your asses.
"Why do you sound like you've been making out?"
You didn't answer immediately.
"Hold on ..." she hurried, and you panicked.
A white light flickered, signaling image was coming through. A fucking video call.
Before you could launch towards the control deck to cut the communication, a hollogram showed the inside of another jet, and Yelena's face. Or more accurately, Yelena's extremely judgmental face. Her eyes went wide, jaw almost falling to the floor.
"What the fuck are you guys doing?"
John cursed under his breath and reached blindly to get his tactical shirt, laying it over your shoulders to cover whatever was left of your dignity. Bob's voice came in behind her.
"Wait, wait ... move, lemme see—holy shit,” he covered his mouth with both hands, in half amusement, half disbelief.
Ava shoved herself into frame next, squinting. "Are you guys... naked?"
Bucky just peeked his head in. "They are."
You covered your face with both hands, muffling a mortified groan. John just tipped his head back and let out the most dramatic sigh of his life.
"I swear to god," he muttered. "We weren't ... we're not—it was hypothermia!"
"And your solution was...?" Yelena teased.
"Body heat, Belova," he snapped, rolling his eyes. "It's called first aid, look it up."
"Well ... clearly you got aided." Ava smirked at you.
Bob's voice chimed in again. "I bet that's not the only thing he—"
"BOB."
Yelena mouthed a sorry to the camera after shutting him up, and gently pushed him to the side. Ava disappeared next to them. Even off frame you could still hear their muffled laughs.
Bucky just scanned your face through the screen. "You okay?"
You nodded, because you were. You finally were. "He's really warm."
John cleared his throat.
"We need evac. She's stable now but still cold. Jet heating wasn't enough, I did the only thing I could."
"Copy that," Bucky nodded, biting his cheek to not say anything. "Reaching your coordinates, just please... put your shirts back on before we get there."
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