The morning came through. There was a subtle glow shining into the room, the sun’s illuminating rays being blocked by the dark clouds forming in the morning sky. It had been a typical and familiar morning— J. Walker in your bed, his arms wrapped around your waist as his face was nuzzled in your neck, breathing in that scent of yours he loved so much.

— — —

After his divorce from Olivia, his best friend dying right in front of him, and losing the title as “America’s hero” his life had started to fall apart. He was ashamed. He was too prideful and that meant he didn’t listen much. He was right, everyone else was wrong. But oh how he wished he listened to others for once. He swore the serum wouldn’t change him, told his best friend Lemar he’d be just fine.

Yet here he was. The shield was taken away from him, the world turned against him. Everyone loathed him for his violent nature. He knew that, but he still wanted to serve his country. After all this mess, he was recruited to be a part of the New A. Team. He was going to fight for his country, no matter what people thought. Hell, he was a goddamn war hero for crying out loud— serving in the military and all that. So what if the world thought that of him? There was at least one person who still wanted something to do with him.

John— or as you liked to call him by his full name quite often, Johnathan— was an old friend of yours. If being specific was needed, he happened to be a friend that carried a few benefits. After losing his title, he felt as if he had nowhere to go. That is when he remembered you. He could never forget about you, even if you were a thought that was pushed deep into the back of his head. Whenever he was feeling incredibly down or angry at the world, he’d find himself at your apartment, clinging to you because you were the one person who understood him, who didn’t hate his guts.

Your presence— whether you stayed silent to let him vent, or you soothed him with that soft and caring voice of yours— always helped him stay sane and calm. Sometimes, or what turned into a quite often occurrence, he needed a distraction from the constant internal battle he was having with his head. So, the “just old friends” label turned into a more “friends with benefits” label, real intimate moments happening between the two of you. You two never talked about something more, like a relationship. Perhaps John was not ready for something like that. A big part of him thought he didn’t deserve anything like that again, the guilt and shame of failing to be that wonderful superhero in his head, but also the failure of being a wife to Olivia, and a dad to his newborn son with her.

But when he was with you— a familiar face, a face he loved so much— a small part of him yearned for a deeper connection than the hookups you two participated in.

— — —

John’s eyes started to flutter open, his mind already filling with different thoughts. He knew he had to eventually get up and head over to the New A. Tower, but he remained in bed, keeping his arms around you, holding you close as he let out a small sigh.