Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve was smiling through the tears at Bucky as he held him at an arm's length away.

“Bucky, why do you have to go? I’ll miss you so much.” Steve had tears pouring down his face and Bucky smiled mournfully back at him.

“It’s ok, Steve. I’ll only be there for a year my parents said. I’ll be back before you know it.” And he pulled Steve into a hug, tapping in morse code on the small of his back. I-T W-I-L-L B-E O-K.

They had learned morse code a few years back because they had both dreamed of being soldiers. They would play war with each other, using big sticks they had found in the park as guns. Hiding behind bushes and pretending they were being shot at. Steve’s mom Sarah didn’t let him have a toy gun, strongly opposed to violence and war, and although Bucky’s parents couldn’t care less what they’re son did and didn’t play with- just as long as he was occupied- Bucky never got one, so that Steve wouldn’t feel left out. So they made do with things they found. Steve’s dad, Joseph had even helped them make a little rope between their windows with a little pail, so they could pass things back and forth to each other.

Sarah and Joseph were standing on their doorstep looking at Bucky and Steve fondly as they said their goodbyes. Bucky’s parents, Winifred and Alan, were also watching from by the car with a completely different expression on their faces. A condescending look was evident in their eyes as they laughed at the children, only going into fourth grade, thinking they were losing something big, when it was just a silly friendship, bawling their eyes out as though they knew loss. But the adults, as adults often do, underestimated the situation. Because Bucky and Steve were not just friends, they were like family, they were each other’s lives. And one does not lose family very easily.

Winifred cleared her throat loudly from the car and the boys separated, Steve walking Bucky to his car, and making funny faces at him through the window, Bucky’s two little sisters laughing in their car seats next to him. And as they drove away Steve raced down the street waving and shouting to Bucky all the while. At the end of the block he stopped, grinning and panting as he waved one last time, and Bucky looked back through the rear window and smiled at his best friend.

Little did he know, that would be the last time Bucky saw Steve Rogers for eight years.

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The jolt of the train wheels shakes Bucky out of the memory. It has been eight years since he saw the busy streets of his hometown. Surprisingly, it hasn't changed as much as he expected it would have. As the train rattles into the station, Bucky glanced out the clouded window, watching a billow of steam dissipate into the blue sky. The train lurches as it pulled into the station, sending Bucky careening forward towards a red haired girl around his age.

“Der’mo!” Bucky let out as he struggles to get back into his seat.

“Ty govorish' po-russki?” The red haired girl asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Dostatochno.” He responds, gathering his bags together. The station is crowded and loud, two things Bucky hates. He slides his leather satchel onto his shoulder and slips off the train. Looking around, he searches for his parents. Instead of finding them, his eye catches on a man in a black suit, carrying a sign that read James Barnes. He walks briskly towards the man and slips out his wallet. He knows the drill. His parents hadn't bothered to pick him up in person ever in his life. It was always a caretaker or a taxi. So why should his first time home after eight years at a boarding school in Moscow be any different? His thoughts turn bitter as he shows the man his driver’s license as an ID.

“Right this way.” The man says in an even tone and leads him towards a sleek Mercedes. He opens the door and Bucky climbs in, sliding over on the leather seats. His luggage would be delivered later tonight at his house.

As the car starts, Bucky fidgets in the back seat. He nervously picks at the stitching of his satchel and stares out the tinted window. His hair had grown longer during his time in Russia and was currently blanketing his neck. He hooks a finger around his collar and pulls the suit off his neck a little. What seventeen year olds had to wear suits to meet with their parents? Bucky miserably sighs and shifts his gaze down to his phone. A new message sits unopened from his friend Dernier. He was a French transfer student at Hydra Academy.

The car pulls up to a huge brick mansion with colossal white pillars framing the massive oak doors. The driver steps out of his seat and holds the door open for Bucky.

“I will bring the car around.” He says, stepping back in and pulling out of the driveway. Bucky takes a deep breath and climbs the front stairs. He raises his hand hesitantly and knocks three times on the cold wood. The doors sweep open to reveal a woman in her thirties wearing a standard black dress.

“You must be James.” She says, a smile spreading on her lips.

“Please. Just Bucky.” He corrects, awkwardly standing in the frame of the front door.

“I’m Maria Hill, your housekeeper.” She smiles and extends a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, may I take your bag and co-”

“BUCKY!” Two shrieks echo all over the house as two girls come racing down the grand staircase. They fasten their arms around Bucky, their grip like a vice.

The fourteen year old brunette glances up grinning at her older brother. “You have no idea how much I missed you. Those few visits to Russia were NOT enough. And it was freaking cold!” She complained, but still grinning.

“Missed you too, Becs.” He turns towards the second girl. A small ten year old smiles shyly at him. “Hey Ollie. How ya been?” He asks quietly. Because of the boarding school, he wasn’t able to see his sisters as much as he would have liked to, and Rebecca and Olivia had to grow up without a brother. Olivia had only been two when he left, and on the yearly week long visits to Moscow, he was only able to see her for so long. But the Barnes siblings all looked alike, same brown hair, sparkling blue eyes and mischievous smiles. Becca and James are very similar, however, little Olivia had always been the anomaly. Her blue eyes shone kindness where the other two’s shone rebelliousness, and her face was sweet and innocent, whereas the other two looked like they could and would take you out this very instant. The clicking of heels on marble floor cause the siblings to look up.

A tall woman with a severe brown bun and harsh eyes raises an eyebrow at them.

“What happened to manners, or are we all animals now?” She asks, her voice maintaining a cold composure.

“We’re sorry, Mom.” The two girls mumble.

“I should think so.” She responds indifferently, turning to Bucky. “Welcome home James.” She says, with a hint of smile. For the past four family visits in Moscow, his parents hadn’t come, sending the sisters on a plane alone or for two years, with a nanny.

“Thanks Mother.” He replies after swallowing thickly. She picks an invisible piece of lint off her black pencil skirt. This has got to be the most awkward family reunion in history. He adjusts the strap on the satchel. “I think I’m going to go up to my room and get settled in.” He says eventually, clearing his throat.

“Yes, of course. And James, Maria picked up new clothes for you, they’re already hanging in your closet.”

“Thank you, mom.” He says and starts up the carpeted stairs. The door to his old room is closed and he pauses in front of it. He knows what lay behind the door. Years of memories of two little boys hiding from parents and playing with handmade toy guns. His breath catches in his throat and he chokes a little. Taking a deep breath, he opens the door.

The curtains are pulled up, illuminating the pale blue walls and silver blankets. The white bookcase is still stacked with his favorite childhood books and comics. In the corner is a small gray sitting chair. He slips his satchel off and drops it in the chair as he sits on the bed, staring out the window. His window looks out onto the family cook’s house, who also happened to be Steve’s mom. His heart breaks a little at the sight of the broken note system Joseph Rogers had strung up for the two. The window opposite his has the blinds drawn and for some reason, Bucky’s stomach tugs a bit at that. He should probably go over there and say hi to the family.

Instead, he changes into his pajamas and climbs into bed. After all, he is jet lagged, cranky and fucking tired. A little creak at the door causes him to look up. Olivia’s small frame is outlined in a shadow near the doorway.

“What’s up, Ollie?” Bucky asks, tugging the light on. The small girl shuffles over towards her older brother and smiles at him.

“Can I sleep with you?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper even though their parents sleep on the floor above them and on the other side of the house. Bucky grins and slides over on the king sized bed.

“Why not. It was getting pretty lonely in here after all.” He smiles and the smaller girl crawls under the covers, curling into his side.

“Room for one more?” Another voice comes from the doorway.

“Get over here, Becs.” He responds as a shape jumps onto the bed. The three maneuver the large bed to fit comfortably and settle down. After a few silent moments, Olivia slips off to sleep, sighing contently.

“I missed you like crazy.” Becca whispers, then yawns.

“Me too, Becs. Love you, g’night.” He smiles lazily and hooks his arm underneath his head, drifting slowly into sleep.

Chapter Text

Steve wakes up 10 minutes before his alarm goes off, a smile on his face. He always loved going to school, ever since kindergarten. Well, not the actual learning part of school, more so the people part. Steve has always been a people person and had been waiting for this day for about a month now.

He throws his blanket off himself and goes into the shower. When he gets out, the only sounds in his house are his alarm clock, and his mom humming downstairs while she cooks him breakfast. He turns off his alarm clock and throws on a tight black T-shirt and jeans.  

As he walks to his window and opens the blinds, he smiles fondly at Bucky’s window and the rickety note passing contraption that Steve’s father had built. There is something different today though, because Bucky’s curtains are not closed as usual, but drawn open. He looks for a minute into the window but no one’s there. He quickly looks away, realizing how creepy he must seem and a pang pierces his chest. It had been a long time since he had looked for Bucky through the window. After the third year he was gone, Steve began to think he would never come back. And now it is the start of the ninth year, and Bucky is still nowhere to be seen.

So Steve hurries down the stairs, trying to get the thought out of his head, trying to ignore the pain constricting his chest. He smiles at his mom as she serves an egg dish to him as he sits down at their small dining table.

It should be noted that Sarah Rogers is an amazing cook. The only reason  that the Rogers’ family lived in such a wealthy neighborhood was because of these skills. The Barnes family hired her as a cook, and seeing that she had a family and it would be easier, they let her live in the guest house right next to their own house. Steve had no such luck with cooking, around the age of ten she had started trying to teach him to cook but to no avail. Steve and an oven were a bad combination. He stuck to making cereal or toast if he needed a meal and his mom wasn’t there.

There are downsides to everything though, and although Steve was perfectly happy living in the Barnes’ guest house, and not having to pay as much for rent, it was embarrassing at times having his mom be a cook for a rich family, when all of his friends families were rich.

He can’t say he regrets living here though, as that is what led him to meeting Bucky, and even if Bucky never comes back from boarding school, he could never say he regrets the things that brought them together. Bucky will always have a place in Steve’s heart, even if he never sees him again.

And with that depressing thought Steve digs into the eggs, trying not to focus on the past.

“Steve, I’m leaving. Do you need anything?” Sarah says as she begins to walk towards the door.

“No, I’ll be fine, thanks mom. Love you.” Steve responds his mind still occupied by Bucky.

“Love you too. You’re going out with Peggy afterschool right?” His mother says while trying to tie her apron in the back. Steve gets up to help and smiles.

“Yeah, God I haven’t seen her in so long. I missed her.”

Sarah turns to smile at him and kisses his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.” She heads out the door, and Steve sits back down to finish his breakfast.

Once he finishes he rushes upstairs to brush his teeth. As he’s brushing, his phone rings and he runs into his room to answer.

“Dis is Steve,” He answers his mouth full of toothpaste and he rushes back into the bathroom to finish as the other person talks.  

“Hey it’s Peggy, do you think you could give me a ride today? My stupid parents took away my car which is like super dumb of them because how did they think I was going to get to school? The bus? Anyway could you? I can’t wait to see you.”

Steve smiles and says that of course he can and he misses her too and they hang up after exchanging “I love you”’s and “Bye”’s. Peggy had been a counselor at a camp all summer so he hadn’t seen her in around three months. They had started dating about five months before that and he is a bit desperate to see her.

He rushes downstairs, grabbing his backpack and keys in mid-run. He steps out to his Harley that his mother had gotten him for his seventeenth birthday in July, and practically throws himself into it and drives to Peggy’s eager to see her.

-------

Bucky wakes up with his sisters curled tightly against him and smiles. He missed this so much. He slips quietly out of bed and over to the bathroom, starting a shower. While his hair dries, he steps into his closet, looking through what Maria bought him. He pulls out a soft black cotton t-shirt and he slips it on, adding a gray sweatshirt and a dark zip jacket and a pair of dark jeans. Skipping stairs on his way, he dashes towards the kitchen. The sound of pans clattering causes him to smile.

“Hey Sarah.” He grins, leaning against the door frame. The blonde woman at the oven turns around, her face caught up in surprise and delight.

“Bucky!” She all but screeches, flinging herself forward. He laughs and returns the hug, burying his face into the crook of her neck, eyes stinging with tears. Steve’s mom clutches his back crying and laughing. For the first time, even with his sisters, it finally feels like home. The older woman continues to cry and hug until Bucky finally pulls away.

“I missed you!” He says, a smile plastered on his face. Sarah wipes her eyes, tears clinging to her lashes.

“They told me to be prepared for a guest, I just never knew it would be you!” She exclaims, wrapping her arms once again around Bucky, then holding him at arm’s length. “How much you’ve grown! Look at you! At your hair! You’ve matured so much!” She grins again and pulls him in for another hug.

“Okay, okay, I do have to go to school at some point though…” He says with an easy smile. She grins back and hands over a plate of waffles.

“I was making them for Becca, but I’ll make her another plate, eat up!” She smiles and hands him butter and syrup. She pulls up a stool across from him and props her chin in her hand. “You know, Stevie has changed a lot too. I wonder if you’ll recognize him.” She adds with a wink.

“You mean he’s not still a skinny, asthmatic, stubborn little shit?” He grins.

“Language! But you’ll have to see for yourself.” She teases, her face succumbing to a warm smile.

“Anyways, I’d best not be late my first day back. Love you Sarah!” He calls as he heads out of the kitchen, just like old times.

-------

He drives himself to school, pulling into the parking lot the same time a black sports car pulls up next to him. As a girl steps out, he almost laughs in surprise. It’s the girl from the train. He quickly steps out of his car, flinging his backpack onto his back and falling in step with the redhead.

“Hello mysterious Russian train boy.” The red haired girl smirks, raising an eyebrow. His throat suddenly goes dry, and he’s surprisingly somewhat scared of her.

“Uh, it’s just Bucky.” He corrects. Her face morphs into one of musing and she narrows her eyes before responding with a light smile.

“That does seem to fit you better.” He smiles as she adds,”You’re new. Obviously you came the day on the train, but you seem to know the town. So you moved home from Russia, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Bucky replies, a little mystified.

“Don’t mind Nat, she’s amazing at digging things up on people.” A blonde girl with her hair in a bun and clipboard under her arm slips into step next to Bucky. She extends her hand in a greeting, her step never faulting as they maneuver the crowded hallway. He accepts it in a shake. “I’m Pepper Potts. If you have any questions about this school, please come to me.” She says with a smile.

“Bucky Barnes.” He responds, still confused by the two girls. “Uh I need to check into the office. Get my locker number and everything…” He explains, veering off from the girls. They nod and wave as he enters the office.

A man with one eye covered by an eye patch sits behind a desk, his chair leaning back as he stretches his arms.

“Uh… I’m James Barnes.” Bucky asks quietly, the roomy office causing his words to echo.  

“New kid, eh?” The man asks with a grunt. Bucky nods in reply and glances at the desk. A placard with the name Principle Nicholas Fury engraved sits at the front of the desk. Principle Fury drops a manila folder onto the desk and Bucky picks it up. “Homeroom starts in…” He glances at his watch. “Five minutes. Better hurry.” He says. Bucky nods and quickly flees the office.  

He hurries down the hallway, looking for his locker number, 145. He quickly finds it and slips his backpack inside, grabbing the folder and a notebook. Two figures out the window catch his eye. A blonde guy, (with an incredible physique, he might add) has his arms wrapped around a brunette, their lips locked together in a heated kiss. His stomach flips and he hurriedly closes his locker and escapes to his homeroom class. Hydra Academy was a coed school, but strictly disciplined so public make out sessions were limited by bravery. His homeroom is with someone named Mr. Coulson and as he slides into a seat, he notices the blonde, Pepper, and the redhead, (Nat?), sitting near him. He straightens up in his seat as the teacher strides in. A bell rings out, signifying the start of class.

-------

When Steve gets to Peggy’s he gets off the bike to walk to her door like the gentleman he is, but as he’s in the middle of the pavement leading to her house, a shriek of “STEVE!” pierces his ears and Peggy comes barreling out of her front door. She drops her backpack on her way, and leaps into his arms. He grins and pulls her in for a kiss, only putting her down when he remembers her parents might be watching.

She grins that mischievous grin that is the reason Steve fell in love with her as she runs to pick up her backpack. She grabs his hand as they walk out and she drops it as she raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“So this is the fantastic motorcycle I’ve heard so much about. I gotta say Steve, I doubted it, knowing you I thought it would be a vespa or something, but woah. This is badass! Way to go, Rogers!” She grins all the while and Steve smirks back at her, handing her a helmet.

“Just get on, Carter, we can’t be late for school.” He says mockingly. Steve is not a big fan of class, and stopped being invested in it once he decided that he was just stupid, and there wasn’t anything else for him to do but accept it. So he threw himself into football, one of the only things he really was good at, and now he’s on the varsity team, spending all his time training rather than studying.

Peggy on the other hand is extremely clever. School comes easily to her, so she coasted through high school with A’s while Steve barely attained C’s were keeping him on the football team. And, although Peggy was a bit of a rebellious child, skipping class was the one thing she wouldn’t do.

Once they get to school, attracting the attention of their peers as they always do, they get off of Steve’s motorcycle. Before stepping into the ‘hallowed halls of Shield High’ Peggy kisses him again, more than they could’ve outside her house, and then smiles up at him, walking into school. He grins to himself and is about to follow when he hears another holler of “Steve!” from behind him. He turns to see Clint running up to him.

“Clint!” He yells and pulls him into a bro hug. As they walk into school together they exchange stories of what happened over summer, commenting on how each one has changed until they see Tony Stark grinning at them from the middle of the hall.

Steve can hear the bell signifying that class is starting ringing loudly, but he walks up to Tony anyway and they walk to their lockers, talking. Once he has his books he looks at a clock and swears to himself. Peggy always gets mad at him when he is super late, and class started about five minutes ago. He sprints to the hallway and bursts into class, interrupting Mr. Coulson.

“Sorry,” he says and Mr. Coulson narrows his eyes and gives him a look.

“Welcome back, Mr. Rogers, nice of you to show up.” Mr. Coulson says, unamused. The girls in the class giggle as Steve sheepishly smiles and slides into a chair at the back of the room. He rests his head on his hand, preparing to zone out after attendance like he does in all his classes.

“Bruce Banner?” Mr. Coulson calls out and Steve hears his friend grunt a bit from the desk next to him. Steve looks out the window watching the cars pass the school, wishing he could be out there instead of in here in this dusty room. He twirls his pencil in his hand, his ADHD getting the better of him.

“James Barnes?” He hears Mr. Coulson say and in his daze, he slightly recalls something about that being an important name.

James raises his voice to respond, “Um, I go by Bucky.” This knocks Steve out of his stupor and he raises his head and his arm shoots down so hard that it makes a loud smacking noise on the table and everyone turns to look at him, but he’s only looking at Bucky. Bucky and him make eye contact for about three seconds before Bucky turns his head, blushing. Mr. Coulson clears his throat and the rest of the students turn but Steve still has his eyes on Bucky.

“Clint Barton?” He can hear faintly, but the thoughts running through his head drown it out. Bucky’s back? Why didn’t his mom tell him? Is he really back? Why was he gone for so long? Does he remember him? Does he remember the night before he left? His ears are ringing and his chest fills with joy. He can feel a smile on his face and he doesn’t care who sees. His best friend is back. That’s all that matters.

What happened?

-------------------

“Bucky!” Steve calls out as the class is dismissed. He rushes up to the other boy his arms extended for a hug. The brunette turns around, his blue eyes looking up at him, his face forming a strange expression. Steve slowly retracts his arms. “You’ve…” Steve swallows and really looks at him. Bucky’s hair had grown out and now the tips were touching his shoulders. His cheekbones and jawline had grown a lot more prominent. Bet the girls were tripping over themselves for him in Russia, Steve grins a little at that thought. He clears his throat. “You’ve uh changed.” Steve smiles.

“So have you.” The brunette responds. Steve turns a little red at that, just like he does with any compliment.

“Uh, football.” He says in explanation. Bucky nods his head as he gathers his stuff together and starts to leave the classroom. “Buck?” He asks and the boy turns around. “It’s… uh… good to see you.” He says with a smalls smile. The other boy nods his head.

“Yeah.” Is all he says and flees the classroom.

Chapter Text

Steve walks into science, still sort of high on happiness from homeroom because, despite that awkward conversation, Bucky was back, that was all that mattered. They would get back into the swing of things, it was only the first day. A little voice in the back of his head wondered if maybe they would never get back into the swing of things and they wouldn’t be friends anymore, but Steve brushes that voice away before he slides into a seat next to Clint.

“So, who the hell is Bucky and why’d you get all worked up when he was in class?” Clint asks but interrupts before Steve can answer, “Oh I know! You’re a spy and you have a double life and he is your boyfriend in your other life and he moved here to get closer to you and-”

“Clint.” Steve says, cutting him off. “Shut up. I’m not gay. He was my best friend when we were younger until he was shipped off to a boarding school in Russia in fourth grade. So, it’s been awhile.”

“Aaah I see. Wow, boarding school in Russia for eight years. Jeez, bet he’s a weirdo now.” Clint says and Steve slaps his arm.

“Shut up.” He says again and he sees Bucky walk into class and sit next to a red-haired girl, Natalia?, who was basically the scariest girl in their school, and he feels a bit angry, though he isn’t sure what at. “He sure does know how to pick them.” Steve mutters and Mr. Zola clears his throat and begins class.

After introducing himself, he begins to assign lab partners.

“Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov.” Clint looks at him and mimes shooting himself in the head before moving his books to go sit by her.

“Margaret Carter and Angie Martinelli.” They smile at each other, being close friends, and they immediately start talking and laughing with each other as soon as they sit down.

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes.” Steve tries to hide his smile as he goes to sit by him while Bucky is correcting the teacher, “It’s Bucky.”

Steve can faintly hear the next pair, “Pepper Potts and Tony Stark,” groaning as they try to argue with Mr. Zola to no avail.

“Hi.” Steve says as he tries, once again, to have a proper conversation with Bucky.

Bucky glances at him out of the corner of his eye, “Hi,” he mutters and then looks away. Steve’s smile fades. Why is Bucky acting so weird?

“So, how was Russia?” Steve asks, trying again. Bucky looks frustrated and opens his mouth to answer before closing it. He opens it again and responds quietly, but with some kind of strong emotion evident in his words.

“Steve, it’s okay. You have other friends, you don’t have to pretend like we’re best friends anymore, okay? It’s been eight years, we barely know each other anymore. The Steve I knew was scrawny, and could hardly walk without tripping, much less play football. You don’t have to act like we know each other.”

And Steve’s chest constricts. Ouch. He pauses, hurt, and unable to respond. He was just trying to be friendly, after all he missed the guy. And they were best friends at one point.

“Well, sorry.” He says, feeling like someone just beat him up. “Just because it’s been awhile doesn’t mean… I mean we were… I was just- just trying to be nice. You were my best friend for a long time.” Steve huffs and turns slightly away from him in his chair, looking out the window again and trying to ignore the feeling that Bucky is staring at his back right now. He won’t give him the satisfaction of turning around. This is not Bucky, at least not the one he knew.

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After English, Bucky found his way into the lunchroom and sat down at an empty table. A few seconds later, Natasha slides in front of him, accompanied by Pepper.

“Quick question… How do you get Bucky out of James Barnes?” She asks. Bucky clears his throat as the memory resurfaces.

The day was sunny and windy when the Rogers moved in. The sun beat down on them as the moving men carried furniture to the now occupied house next door. A woman with blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun stood with a boy about four, the same age as James. James skipped over to the two and grinned.

“I’m James Buchanan Barnes. I live next door.” He announced, his little voice carrying over the gently winds.  

“What kind’a name is Buckycannon?” The small blonde asked bluntly as his mother chided him for being rude.

“Steve, be nice!” The woman reprimanded.

“It’s Buchanan, silly.” James responded with a laugh. The blonde, Steve, looked up at him.

“I think Buckycannon suits you better.” He responded with a smile.

“Buchanan.”

“Buckycannon.”

“Buchanan.”

“Bucky…” Steve’s voice trailed off then suddenly his blue eyes grew really big. “Bucky!” He exclaimed. James pondered the name. It sounded… mature and cool. His face grew into a smile and the two boys grinned at each other.

“Bucky it is.” He responded with a giggle.

“It’s uh. A long story.” Bucky says, clearing his throat. “Uh… a misunderstanding.” He says, his voice catching a bit. Pepper smiles at him and Nat twirls a pretzel stick between her fingers.

“Science was a bitch today, huh?” She says, popping the pretzel into her mouth as the other two nod in agreement.

“I mean, who in their right mind would pair me up with someone as dimwitted, infuriating, insufferable and obnoxious as Tony Stark?” Pepper burst out, angrily slamming her sandwich down.

“Please, I’m stuck with Barton who literally does nothing besides make occasional sarcastic remarks that are not in the slightest bit funny.” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“That’s interesting cause seems to me you happened to be laughing for most of the class.” Bucky responded with a grin.

“Watching me Barnes?” She smirks and Bucky huffs.

“No. Besides, you’re not my type.” Natasha raises her eyebrow at that.

“Not your type? I’m everyone’s type!” She snorted.

“Highly doubt that.” Bucky countered teasingly. “Cause you’re not mine!” Natasha straightens up a little in the bench.

“Please. The only way I’m not your type is if..” Her eyes widen for a minute, her mouth forming a silent ‘o’, and then she smirks.

“Pepper. You owe me twenty.” She grins. Pepper raises her eyebrows and sighs.

“Everytime.” She mutters with a huff of annoyance.

------------------

When Bucky pulled into his garage, Maria was waiting by the door again.

“How was school?” She asks, setting down the rag she was using to clean the entryway mirror.

“Fine.” He responds and makes his way to the kitchen. Sarah is leaning over one of the counters, rolling a hunk of dough.

“Hey.” Bucky smiles and hops onto one of the kitchen stools. The Barnes family kitchen was huge, with high ceilings, and a spacious center area with a large marble island. The cabinets were stark white with black appliances. The whole kitchen gave off a clean, cold and unloved vibe, just like his parents. Sarah looks up and grins.

“Bucky! I didn’t know you were home!” She grins, wiping her hands on a towel. She wraps her arms around Bucky in a hug. “Get used to the affection. You seem like you’re still frozen from Russia!” She smiles brighter and moves to the stove. She pulls out a pan of cookies and sets them on the cooling rack in front of Bucky. He grins.

“It’s been too long since I’ve eaten Mama Rogers homemade cookies!” He accepts a spatula from Sarah and waits a minute for them to cool.

“Aw, stop. They’re nothing to get excited over now! I’m sure there was tons of good food in Russia.” She says, returning to the dough.

“Lots of tea cakes.” Bucky responds, slipping the spatula underneath a gooey chocolate chip cookies. “But nothing compares to your cooking!” He laughs. Sarah swats away the compliment.

The sound of the door opening and voices catches Bucky’s attention. He slips the cookies off the tray and walks into the entryway.

“Bucky! Perfect. Get your shoes, we’re going out and you’re driving.” Becca announces. Bucky smiles.

“I was in the middle of helping Sarah…” He explains, hesitating.

“Go ahead! I can handle without you! Have fun!” Her voice drifts in from the kitchen.

“Then I guess it’s fine.” Bucky says as he pull on klunky black boots he bought in Russia. Becca grins and races out to the garage, Bucky trudging behind. She leaps into Bucky’s black car, instantly hooking her phone up to the speakers. She picks some pop song and it’s already blaring by the time Bucky gets behind the wheel. He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the driveway and merging into the road. “Where are we even going?” He asks, over her music.

“A new place. Coffee shop called Selvig’s. Or at least new since you left.” She replies over the blaring music. She tells him directions and goes back to singing offkey with whatever pop song was on next. They pull into the parking lot and Becca grabs his hand, pulling him along to the front door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Bucky mutters, stumbling after her. She grins and holds the door. He steps inside and his insides twist. Great. He didn’t need this today. A familiar blonde sits in booth, his arm wrapped around a brunette, Peggy was it? He didn’t really care. Keeping his head down, he followed Becs to the line, praying for them not to notice him.

--------

As Peggy grins at Steve, squeezing his hand, but Steve couldn’t help but not feel as elated as he usually does when he is with Peggy. His confrontation with Bucky had left him shaken, even now, hours after the incident. And as they walk into Selvig’s Norse-Themed Cafe, (which Thor insisted they go to because of his massive crush on the barista Jane), Steve doesn’t feel as inspired by the artwork covering every wall. He had assumed that Bucky and him would have a sweet, tearful reunion. Two old friends back together again, and now that the moment passed, and did not even come close to the perfect situation that Steve had created in his head, he’s a little disappointed, and extremely hurt.

They go to sit at their usual corner booth, Peggy, Sam, Clint, Tony, some of Tony’s jerk friends, and him, when Peter Parker, Tony’s new, freshman “apprentice” as he calls it, rushes up to them.

“Hey, Tony, so I was just wondering-” Peter starts and Tony holds a hand up to stop him.

“Parker, didn’t I tell you not to speak until spoken to?” Tony smiles a patronizing smile and Peter glances away, his face twitching a bit, as he waits to apologize.

“S-sorry Tony.” Peter says looking mournfully at the ground like a scolded puppy and Steve can’t help but feel sorry for him.

Tony looks at Peter with reprimanding eyes, as though he is a mother, trying to forgive her son for an unforgivable crime. His lips pursed as if weighing the options. But after knowing Tony so long, Steve can see the glint of humor in his eyes, and he knows he is messing with the poor kid.

Steve glances at the ground, pity for the freshman filling him up, although he knows he won’t do something about it. It’s something he learned early on in High School. If you want to be cool, if you want to keep your friends, you go along with them. Although he knows that isn’t the ‘right’ thing to do, what other choice does he have? His friends, especially Sam, have been with him through thick and thin, and he will do anything to keep them.

Maybe that is why Steve is having such a hard time with the fact that Bucky seems to hate him all of the sudden. He has always valued his friends and family above anything else, he has always fought for them, and it kills him that he can’t get through to Bucky. He can feel his jaw clenching with determination, and he knows that he will not be able to back down until he wins Bucky back. Just like he was determined to master Football. Because if Steve is anything, it is persistent.

“Steve?” Sam nudges him with his elbow, speaking softly, as Peter begs for Tony’s forgiveness. “You ok? You just completely zoned out. I was asking what you think of that new kid, Bucky.” Steve smiles lightly at Sam, always noticing if anything is up with Steve. He opens his mouth to respond before Clint leans over and interrupts.

“Steve knows Bucky verrrry well. Has he told you that he has a double life?” Clint begins and Sam chuckles lightly and Steve decides to zone out this conversation also.

Sam and Steve became friends in the beginning of fourth grade, almost a week after Bucky left for boarding school.

Steve huffed as he sat down, alone, at the edge of a table, his food looking especially unappetizing, even though he knew it would be delicious, like his mother’s food always was. It had been a week of school, and he hadn’t made any new friends yet. Although Loki had taken a particular liking to constantly picking on Steve’s scrawny frame, and although Loki had never physically bullied him, the verbal and emotional torture was bad enough, making Steve begin to hate himself as Loki turned the abuse inward.

Loki had just sat down next to Steve beginning with, “Aren’t you going to eat that? I mean you sure need it don’t you think?”, when Sam came to sit across from the two.

“Loki, beat it. Or I will make sure Thor knows you were picking on one of my friends.” Sam said smirking.

Loki’s eyes widened slightly, and he gulped trying not to show his fear, even though everyone knew deep down Thor terrified Loki. Even by fourth grade Thor was known for being the strongest boy in their school, and winning at every active competition he competed in. And although Loki’s words could sting as bad as a punch would, Loki was terribly afraid of being punched, so he scurried away.

“Thanks,” Steve said to Sam, though a bit confused as to why Sam would help him, and Sam smiled.

“Dude, I hate that guy. And he has no right to pick on you. Maybe you should sit with me and my friends from now on, just to make sure Loki stops.” He said, and Steve couldn’t tell then, but he would later figure out, that that was Sam’s way of being inclusive without making Steve embarrassed about sitting alone.

Awhile later Steve started playing football, because Sam and Thor did, and he found he loved the game. So he worked out, and worked out, and worked out, and gained some muscle, if barely any. Enough to play football on a park team. And Steve was smart, he could think quickly and he had practiced so much, that he knew what to do when he was on the field. And then in the summer before Freshman year, he had a major growth spurt, and the high school coach, Abraham Erskine, finally started really noticing him, and his football career took off, and his academic one plummeted.

He notices then that Peggy is looking at him, a bit suspiciously. “Steve? Something wrong?” She asks and he shakes his head and smiles, the bell at the door rings lightly and Peggy glances back, an odd emotion on her face as she leans in and kisses him on the cheek before turning away. Steve begins to glance back to see who it is when Tony clears his throat, and puts his hands up, a gesture that he wants everyone’s attention, and they’re table quiets down.

“You know, I think the only fair way to settle whether you can be in the group just yet is a vote.” Tony says smirking. Peter gulps and Steve’s heart stings at his nervous expression, the poor boy taking Tony’s mocking seriously.

“Who thinks he can stay?” Tony says. Steve begins to raise his hand, but Tony glares at him so he puts it down. Tony doesn’t even need to ask who thinks he should leave, Peter gets the memo and looks down at the ground mournfully, his lip quivering. Steve can’t bear to watch so he looks away, his eye’s catching on Bucky, standing by the cashier with his little sister, Becca. Bucky looks directly at him, disgust filling his eyes as he watches what is about to happen. Tony clears his throat and Peter rushes out of the Cafe, looking like he is on the verge of tears.  

“Becca?” Jane calls out and Bucky goes up to grab their drinks, his eyes not leaving Steve. As he walks out he shakes his head, his nose wrinkling and Steve nudges Peggy out of the booth, standing to run after and explain.

“Bucky, wait!” He yells, as he rushes out the front door, only to see a black car speed away, leaving Steve standing outside of Selvig’s, watching him leave.

He stumbles back into the cafe, defeated and tells Sam he’s tired and asks if he can drive Peggy home. Sam nods understandingly and Steve stumbles back out with his backpack.

When he gets home he sees the lights on in Bucky’s window and sighs to himself. He goes straight up to his room, pulling his sketchbook out of his desk drawer, and sits by the window, looking out. He begins to sketch the only thing he can think of, the image of Bucky’s disgusted eyes, looking at him, imprinted in Steve’s head.

And as he begins to draw, Bucky walks upstairs into his own room, and, upon seeing Steve looking intently at something in his hands, he pulls down the blinds.

Chapter Text

Bucky wakes up before the sun rises. He lays in his bed, his left arm draped over his stomach. His head spins as he remembers yesterday’s occurrences. Steve… Bucky knew he would have changed. After all, eight years is too long to remain the same person. Hell, Bucky had changed. His gut tugs as he remembers Hydra Academy's rigorous schedule. Everyday, he was forced to attend a mixed martial arts class taught by Herr Schmidt. Eventually, he had built up his strength and muscle. But Steve… Steve has grown so much. How has scrawny, sickly, stubborn Steve grown into someone like the block of muscle sitting at the booth yesterday? He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He should probably cut it soon, it’s getting too long. His alarm buzzes and slowly, he crawls out of bed. Yawning, Bucky rubs his eyes. Parting the blinds with a hand, he notices Steve’s curtains are still closed. He sighs and pads into his bathroom to get ready for school.

“Bucky, I forgot to ask you yesterday, did you see Steve at school?” Sarah asks as she slides him a plate of bacon and eggs. Bucky watches the steam rise hungrily. He gnaws on a piece of bacon and looks up at Sarah.

“Uh yeah.” Bucky swallows and picks up his fork. “He looks… different.” Sarah beams.

“After you left, he started growing. He was recruited for football team freshman year.” She explains as she cracks an egg, pouring it into a pan on the stove. She pauses, turning back to Bucky. “You know, the months after you left were really hard for Steve…” She says, taking a sip of water. Bucky stares at his plate, his eggs no longer looking appetizing. “His whole life revolved around you. You were his world.” Bucky swallows thickly and pushes the plate away.

“Yeah. Thanks for the meal, Sarah.” He attempts a smile, but it comes out as a grimace. He turns quickly and rushes up the stairs, a strange feeling sinking into his stomach. He gets his things together in record time and runs down the stairs, sprinting to his car.

As soon as he’s in the front seat and closes the door, he leans his head against the headrest. Bucky’s breathing comes quick and erratic. His whole life revolved around you. You were his world. His head spins and he closes his eyes. “Take a deep breath.” He reminds himself. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. His breath comes ragged and uneven. He slowly opens his eyes and rests a hand on the steering wheel.

Everything was cold. Six years in Russia and Bucky still hadn’t warmed up to the country. Hydra Academy was all stone, and made for keeping people in, not out. The students were mean and as harsh as the Russian weather. So far, Bucky had made one friend, a tall, charming ninth grader named Gilmore Hodge. The two shared a few classes and sat together at lunch. Bucky was returning to his room after his last class of the day, when he noticed the door was cracked open. He shifted his books to his left arm and pushed the door open. Hodge was standing near his bookcase, a journal open, reading intently. Bucky moved farther into the room and Hodge snapped the book shut, turning to face Bucky.

“If you fancied me so much, all you had to do was tell me.” Hodge smirks, his face jeering.

“I don’t like you! That’s disgusting.” Bucky sputters. Hodge taps the diary against his free hand.

“You sure about that? You seem to spend a lot of time describing a certain blonde haired, stubborn and handsome friend.” Hodge’s smirk only grows wider. “And, I hate to break it to you, but I’m your only friend.” He leans against the bookcase, and how casual he’s acting infuriates Bucky.

“I was describing my best friend!” Bucky spits out. After a raised eyebrow from Hodge, Bucky throws his hands out in exasperation. “I don’t like him! I’m not gay!” He snarls, snatching back the journal. “And, you’re not my only friend!” He snaps, rounding on him. Hodge only smiles and something inside Bucky snaps. “GET OUT!” He yells, throwing the notebook down on his bed. Hodge moves off the bookcase and to the center of the room.

“No need to get all defensive.” He grins. “Besides, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.” His grin shapes into a smirk and he steps close to Bucky. In one swift movement, he bends down a little, slipping a hand behind Bucky’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. Bucky pushes away, but Hodge holds an arm around the small of his back, keeping him in place.

Then, almost as fast as it started, Hodge pulls away, pulling the door with him as he steps out of the dorm. “See you around, Barnes.” He grins and leaves, his whistling echoing through the halls. Bucky leans into the door and slides to the ground, his back pressed against the oak door. His shoulders shake as dry sobs rack his body. He knew what the school did to fags. The students made their lives living hell and the teachers weren’t any better. He rubbed a sleeve viciously against his eyes and tried to breath. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. He breathed in and out, his breaths coming fast and uneven. His head hits the wood hard, but he doesn’t bother with the pain. Hodge just kissed him. A boy kissed him. Yet somehow he didn’t feel disgusted, he didn’t feel repulsed, he didn’t feel revolted. He felt… disappointed.

“Get your shit together, Barnes.” He reprimands, forcing himself to stand up. He walks over to the bed and lays down, tucking his arm underneath a pillow. He’d skip dinner that night. The less he’d see of Hodge the better. As he lays there, his mind spinning, he slowly drifts off to sleep. And somehow, deep inside, he realizes what’s wrong. He’d always expected a different blonde boy to steal his first kiss.

-----------

Steve is in the hall by his locker already, his arm draped around his doting girlfriend, when Bucky walks in. Bucky’s stomach boils and he looks away, unable to watch. As he trudges through the hallway, hoping not to be noticed, he makes the mistake of turning around to glance at Steve. When he does Steve is looking directly at him, they make eye contact, and for some reason Bucky is unable to turn away. Peggy glances at him and then leans in to kiss Steve and Bucky watches as Steve unconsciously shrugs her away as he begins to walk towards Bucky. Finally Bucky forces himself to turn away to hide the smile that is overtaking his face. He can hear Steve yelling his name and his footsteps getting louder, and his only thought is a panicking one that he has to get this smile off of his face.

“Bucky, can I explain, please?” Steve says as he grabs Bucky’s forearm and he turns to see Steve’s desperate expression, pouting slightly and suddenly Bucky can’t think. He tries to wrack his brain to remember what Steve needed to explain because there’s a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach he has never felt before and he doesn’t know what to do. All that he can think of is his conversation with Sarah that morning.

“You were his world.”

“Bucky?” Steve asks again, looking directly into Bucky’s eyes, and suddenly Bucky has the irrational fear that Steve is reading his mind or something. And Bucky realizes that he is standing in the middle of the hallway, having a moment with Steve and everyone’s eyes are on them. He looks behind Steve at Peggy, and his stomach lurches at her expression. It is a mix of knowing, dread, and forlornness. He can tell that she is clever, and if anyone here is reading his mind it is Peggy. She knows, what he hasn’t even admitted to himself yet. He can feel his face getting hot, and luckily his hair is down today, so no one can see the red that is creeping up his neck.

“Uh..um..” Bucky starts and Steve’s desperate expression begins to morph into a bemused one. All of the sudden he feels a numbness creeping through him as he feels the eyes on him, and people giggle lightly, but his ears are ringing and all he can see is Steve. They stay like that for what seems like forever, but what was probably only a few seconds more, before he feels someone pulling him away, and he limply follows.

Nat sighs as she pulls Bucky into homeroom. They are the only ones there and she sits him at his desk, looking at him with pity. The numbness is finally leaving him, embarrassment replacing it.

“Der’mo. Der’mo. Der’mo.” Bucky mutters as he begins to put his head between his hands. Nat pats his head soothingly and Bucky is surprised at how well she knows how to comfort him even though she barely knows him.

But Bucky can’t take all this affection at once, Steve’s strong grip on his arm, Nat’s soothing presence and pat, being with Sarah again. It’s overloading a system that has not been used in a very long time. He can imagine himself like a machine, this part of him rusted and covered in dust and spiderwebs. How long has it been since it has been used? Eight years. Bucky wrenches himself up and away from Nat.

“I’m fine.” He says and Nat opens her mouth to respond, but students begin to flood into the class, at the five minute bell, and she purses her lips and goes to take a seat at her desk. Bucky clenches his jaw and sits back down, angry all of the sudden for some reason. Which of course is reasonable, because Bucky, a normally cocky and confident guy, doesn’t like not knowing what to do, and these situations have left him vulnerable and defenseless. A feeling he absolutely loathes.

-----------

Bucky rushes out of homeroom right as the bell rings, and runs straight into someone on his way out of the room. He knocks his books to the floor and him and the other end up sprawled out on the ground. He sits up slowly, rubbing his head and prepping for a quick apology, but the other boy is already on his feet, extending a hand to help him up. He pulls Bucky up, but doesn’t let go even when Bucky is standing.

“Brock Rumlow.” The boy utters before giving Bucky a flirtatious grin. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He beams at him waiting for him to respond.

“Bucky Barnes.” Bucky responds tentatively, an uneasy smile on his face. Brock grins again, and Bucky can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

“Oh, you’re the new kid from Russia. I’ve heard of you. So tell me, Russia, what made you leave class in such a hurry?” He responds, and suddenly Bucky remembers his books on the ground. He takes his hand out of Brock’s grasp and bends down to pick them up. When he stands again he finds that Brock is waiting there, for a response. He begins to walk to Science and Brock follows.

“Why would I want to stay any longer than I need to?” Bucky answers vaguely, Brock laughs lightly, and Bucky can feel his surprise registering on his face. It has been awhile since he has made someone laugh.

“Good point. What’s your next class?” Brock replies, and Bucky can feel himself warming up to him.

“Science. You?”

“Same, we can walk together. Why Russia?” Brock fires back quickly and bucky responds with the same speed.

“No idea, it’s just where my parents decided to ship me off to. Why so many questions?”

Brock pauses and gives Bucky a genuine light smile. “Just trying to get to know you better. You’re an enigma, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky can feel his face heating up, and rushes into the science lab, relieved that they got to the class, and he sits down quickly next to Steve. Steve opens his mouth to say something but Brock begins before he can, and hands Bucky a slip of paper.

“We’ll talk more later. Give me a call sometime.” Brock says in a sultry voice before sauntering over to his own spot. Bucky looks down at the slip of paper and sees a phone number. He can’t help but smile a bit and Steve looks at him confused as to what is going on.

………

During Science they are supposed to be finding which chemical has a bigger reaction with water. Of course, it’s Bucky that is doing the work and Steve trying to start a conversation, the blonde’s foot tapping lightly on the ground throughout the whole class.

“We never got to talk about how boarding school was.” Steve begins, waiting for Bucky’s reaction, and luckily for Steve, his conversation with Brock put Bucky in a good mood, so he responds.

“It was whatever. Very different from here.”

“Hmm.” Steve says and it is quiet for a moment, except for the chatter of the other groups in the background and Steve’s constantly tapping foot.

Bucky glances irritably at Steve’s knee as it bounces up and down, up and down, a click following every downward bounce. Take a deep breath. He reminds himself and the tapping dies down for a bit. He grabs a small cube of potassium with a tweezer, trying to slowly drop it into the water. He leans in to watch the reaction and suddenly the tapping starts again, and Bucky knocks the cube quickly into the glass, which explodes in their faces. The water erupts out of the beaker all over the two, and the class erupts into laughter. Bucky can feel the anger rising in him, as his cheeks burn with embarrassment. And Steve’s foot is still. Fucking. Tapping. Bucky forces Steve’s knee down with his hand and glares at Steve. Steve’s eyes widen as he looks down at Bucky’s hand gripping his thigh and his cheeks redden.

Bucky speaks slowly and eerily calm, “Stop. Tapping. Your. Fucking. Foot.” And Steve gulps, and Bucky realizes everyone’s eyes are on them, again. He releases Steve and begins to wipe up the mess they made as Mr. Zola walks up to them and sighs.

“Go get cleaned up.” He says as he begins to wipe the table off and Bucky thanks him. He rushes out of the class quickly, deftly ignoring the raised eyebrow Nat shoots at him. He hurries to his locker, thankful that he brought an extra pair of clothes. He learned at Hydra Academy that you never knew when you would need to change.

When he gets to the bathroom he sees Steve is already in there, putting on his gym clothes. Bucky glances away, strategically paying no attention to his perfectly toned muscles, and obviously not caring when his shirt subtly lifts up revealing a strip of his abs.

Bucky starts to leave, but pauses at Steve’s hesitant, “Bucky?”

He turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Sorry.” He says sincerely.

Bucky pauses for a moment before giving him a small smile. “It’s okay.”

-----------------

As he’s on his way to lunch, Bucky’s head rams into a locker, and he turns quickly to see who pushed it. He doesn’t know this guy, what reason could he possibly have for doing that?

“Hey, what the fuck man? What was that for?” He asks and the guy only twitches his lip slightly.

“You give the Academy a bad name.” Bucky’s eyes widen and he can already tell from the boy’s very clear accent that he is from somewhere around Austria. “I see the way you look at Steve. You know we do not tolerate fags .” He sneers the last word and all the color drains from Bucky’s face.

“I’m not gay.” Bucky mutters harshly his eyes pinned to the ground.

The boy sneers again and pushes him again. “Tell that to your little boyfriends.” He says and suddenly Steve and Brock are both running up to him and pushing the guy away. He easily lets himself be pushed back, maintaining eye contact with Bucky thoroughly. His eyes are threatening and Bucky realizes that Steve and Brock are both asking him if he is okay. He turns to Steve, all of yesterday’s events at the cafe coming back to him.

“I don’t need you to stick up for me.” He growls at Steve and he opens his mouth to respond but Bucky isn’t finished. “I don’t need any special treatment. I saw how you didn’t stick up for Peter yesterday, at the cafe. The Steve I knew didn’t like bullies. Clearly that’s-”

Steves face reddens with anger. “Stop comparing me to the Steve you knew . People change. You think I’m the only one who changed? The Bucky I knew, didn’t shut everyone out. The Bucky I knew didn’t give up on his friends. So stop fucking comparing me to the Steve you knew. Because clearly I’m not him anymore. Clearly I’m not this perfect person you’re looking for.” And Steve storms out of the school, slamming the door shut and Bucky stares in awe. That’s the first time he has ever heard Steve Rogers swear. Brock puts his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky sighs.

“It’s okay. You guys will work it out.” Brock says reassuringly, but a sinking feeling twists in Bucky’s gut.

“Yeah. Sure.” Bucky responds and allows himself to be led down the hall.

-----------

Bucky goes through the rest of the day automatically, his body moving like an automaton. His mind is stuck on playing repeats of the events during lunch. Nat nudges him with an arm a couple of times, asking if he’s okay. He replies with a curt nod and doesn’t respond to any of Pepper’s questions.

As soon as school’s over, he grabs his stuff and rushes out the door. He speeds on the way home, his stomach somersaulting. He quickly pulls into the garage and runs into the house. He ignores Maria at the door and moves to go upstairs, but a voice calls from the kitchen.

“Bucky? Is that you?” Sarah’s warm voice breaks something in Bucky. He moves into the kitchen and, at the sight of the blonde woman with flour on her apron and adorning her hair, he bursts into tears. It’s the first time he’s cried in front of someone since eight years ago. She shuffles forward, dodging the island and wrapping her arms around Bucky, one hand pulling his head close to her chest. She softly rubs a hand in circles on his back as tears spill from Bucky’s eyes. “Aw, honey.” She says soothingly.

Bucky tightens his arms around her waist, burying his head in the crook of her neck. The familiar scent of cinnamon washes over him and his breathing slows. As he gains control of his sobbing, Sarah pulls back. She lifts a towel clad hand and wipes his cheeks, just like she did when he was younger. He manages a smile, his eyes still watering. “What happened?” She asks, leading him to a stool at the island. She fishes in the refrigerator and pulls out a small plate and a carton of milk. She pours a glass and pushes the plate towards him. “Eat up.” Bucky glances down and he almost cries again. On the small porcelain plate sits a small piece of German chocolate cake, his favorite. He smiles weakly and takes a bite of it, the cake melting in his mouth. He grins at Sarah and sips the milk.

“I…” He clears his throat and sets down the fork. “Uh, got in a fight with someone.” Sarah worryingly checks his face and arms for injuries. “A verbal fight.” He clarifies, waving her off. She pulls a stool up across from him and props her head on a hand.

“With whom?” She asks, taking a sip of a cup of cinnamon tea.

“Uh, just someone from school.” He coughs. “It just shook me up a bit, sorry.” He mutters, taking another bite of cake. When the fork clinks against the plate, Steve’s shouting face consumes his vision. People change. He sets the fork down and pushes the stool back.

“Thank you so much.” He smiles and excuses himself, heading immediately upstairs. He walks into his room calmly, trying to keep it together. As soon as his door closes, he rushes to his walk-in closet.

At the far back, Bucky slips his hand under a shelf and pulls out a dusty black case. He blows off the dust and slips his hands over the latches. He pulls them open and takes a deep breath. The case opens hesitantly, almost as if the case itself is guarding a secret, which in many ways it is. Bucky let's out the breath he didn’t know he was holding when his eyes scan the contents. Inside the case is his prized possession, the most valuable item Bucky had ever owned, a old, scratched acoustic guitar. He lifts it out and holds it in front of him. His heart warms a little at the sight and he grins. He lifts it to his knee and slips his hands around the fingerboard. His body easily slips into the position and he strums it quietly. His hair falls into his face and he sweeps it behind an ear. He smiles softly and plays another chord, his hands moving of their accord. The soft music calms him from inside out, and he visibly starts to relax.

Bucky’s eighth birthday had started out normal. He’d gotten the usual adultlike presents from his parents, this time a briefcase and a stock. His sisters’ had given him an adorable collage of photos, mostly of him and Steve but also of him with his family. He hadn’t stopped smiling since he received the present.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice drifts over quietly and Bucky turns. Steve is standing there in slacks that are at least three sizes too big and a baggy white shirt. “Can I give you your present?” He asks, shy for the first time in their friendship. Bucky nods and follows Steve out to the little, overgrown garden behind the Rogers’ house. “Close your eyes, okay?” He asks, and takes Bucky’s hand. Steve leads him farther into the yard and sits him down on a cracked stone bench. “I know it isn’t much, but I thought you’d like it. Think of it as a promise, that one day I’ll get you a proper one.” Steve babbles. Bucky grins and opens his eyes slowly. On the ground in front of him is an open black guitar case with a beat up, scratched acoustic guitar that’s missing a string. It’s the most beautiful thing Bucky has ever seen. He throws his arms around Steve who blushes like a schoolgirl.

“I love it!” He exclaims, jumping up excitedly. He meticulously lifts the guitar out and slips it onto a knee, examining it. Steve suddenly pulls a small package from his pocket.

“I almost forgot. This is from you sisters.” He says and hands the wrapped parcel to Bucky, who opens it gently. Inside is a brand new guitar string. Bucky’s giant grin only gets wider as he skillfully attaches it.  “I’m sorry it’s so old, it’s all I could afford. But I promise you Buck, someday I’ll be able to buy you a brand new one, one that you deserve.” Steve vows. Bucky sets the guitar aside for a second, overcome by emotion.

“Steve? Shut up.” He says, wrapping his arms around him and pulling the small boy close, the faint scent of cinnamon lingering. “I love it.”

As Bucky slips his hands down the fingerboard, he pauses. This was too much of Steve, yet he couldn’t put it down. He continued playing, chord after chord until his fingers grew raw and the night was closing. Not once did he set it down until 2 am, his fingers blistered and bleeding but a new feeling spinning in his stomach.  

-----------------------------------

Sarah sighs as she walks across the small path leading from the Barnes house to her own, glancing at all the little things she notices every day. There is a path beaten into the ground, even after all these years, from where Steve and Bucky used to play. It leads from the large hedge in the Barnes house to the small bushes in the Rogers’ lawn. They used to be so close, it breaks her heart that the Barnes’ forced Bucky to leave. Her lip twitches slightly at the thought. She’s never liked Winifred and Alan Barnes. But at least Steve met Bucky because of them, so she can’t say she regrets moving here to work for them.

She walks in the door and sees Steve sitting on the couch, furiously scribbling into his sketchpad. She stops and crosses her arms in the doorway, connecting the dots.

“Steven Rogers, I haven’t seen you scribble that hard or seen Bucky cry for a long time. What happened?” She says and Steve looks up, disoriented with a mix of emotions on his face. He clearly hadn't noticed when she walked into the room, Sarah watches as he attempts to process her words, and the anger on his face diffuses into this mix. Steve looks at her helplessly, and her heart shatters for the second time. She waits, expecting him to explain like he always does, but his face hardens, and he stands up, and goes to his room.

What is happening to her baby? Steve and Sarah have always been so close, and now Bucky will talk to her before Steve will? She sighs again and goes to her bedroom, flopping onto the bed as the soreness of her body registers in her mind, another worn out thing. She knows she should just blame Steve’s reaction on normal teenager hormones, but for some reason, she just can't.

                -----------------

Steve sits in his room, at loss of what to feel in this situation. He grabs his phone and a pair of headphones, turning on an acoustic playlist on Spotify, the style that always calms him. And although he would never admit it at the moment, the reason it was so soothing was because of it’s connection to Bucky. To the happier times of his life. Soon he drifts off to sleep, the music filling his head.

Little does he know, that just across the driveway, in the next house over, Bucky is relaxing to the strum of his own fingers, playing the same music.

Chapter Text

Steve wakes up in a sulk, and his mood only worsens at Sarah’s sympathetic smile during breakfast.

“Honey?” She asks, her voice soft and caring. She hands him a plate of Belgian waffles topped with strawberries and whipped cream, his favorite. He glances up and manages a small smile. Her eyes widen in earnest concern as he sits down, mindlessly stabbing at the meal with a fork. “Are you and Peggy going to do something after school today?” She asks, untying her apron and slinging it over one arm.

“We’ll see.”He says around a mouthful. A sinking feeling is spinning and circling in his gut. He pushes the plate away, standing up. “Thanks.” He mutters and races up the stairs to finish getting ready for school. When he comes down the stairs again, Sarah is waiting by the door, holding his old, battered leather jacket in one hand.

“It’s supposed to be chilly this morning. And I’m uncomfortable enough with you on that rickety old thing, you could at least do me a favor and wear a jacket.” She scolds as Steve accepts the coat. He kisses her lightly on the cheek and heads out the door. “Steve?” She asks, her voice a low whisper. “You know you can’t stay mad at Bucky, right? He means too much to you.” She says firmly, closing the door and pushing Steve out.

-----------------

Bucky isn’t there yet when Steve arrives at science, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. When Bucky finally does walk in Steve prepares himself for the awkwardness, but Bucky walks straight past their table to Nat and Clint’s table. Bucky walks up to Clint grinning at Nat as she turns her head to try and hide her smile, and turns back to him glaring. They both look up at Bucky when he gets to the table and Steve realizes that, even though Bucky is pointedly not looking at him, that he probably can tell Steve is looking, so he whips his head back around.

His fingers begin to tap faster on the table, as he glances around, trying to distract himself from Bucky. Distracting himself is usually a very simple task, but when it comes to Bucky his focus is impenetrable. How annoying. He looks over to see Peggy looking at him, an interesting expression on her face.

“What?” He says, confused, but Peggy just purses her lips and turns back to Angie.

Mr. Zola starts his boring lecture of the day and Bucky is forced to return to his seat. Steve shifts himself a bit in his chair, away from Bucky, and Bucky mimics the position. Steve watches out of the corner of his eye at Bucky intently taking notes, probably actually understanding what Zola is saying.

Steve can see how uncomfortable Bucky is. His jaw is clenched, his hair falling gently along his face, providing a sort of curtain between the two, probably so Bucky doesn’t have to look at him. His shoulders are tense, pulled up higher than normal and Steve can see his shoulder muscles peeking out of his dark gray, V-neck sweater. Steve quickly looks away, taking notice of the other people in class for a change.

Natasha is grinning to herself as Clint goes red and looks anywhere but at her. Pepper and Tony both look pissed as fuck, both slightly red in the face, whispering angrily back and forth to each other. Angie is whispering to Peggy while elbowing her lightly and Peggy is grinning, her bright red lips standing out against her pale skin and Steve smiles lightly.

He spends the rest of the hour in this situation, awkwardly sitting next to Bucky as they both try to ignore the other, and watching his classmates. At the end of the hour, everyone begins to pack up their stuff while Mr. Zola makes the usual announcements.

“And class?” He ends with, “don’t forget, mid-quarter is soon and I’ll be entering the grades. If you have things you would like to turn in or want to talk about your grade, don’t be afraid to come in after class.” He looks pointedly at Steve and Steve turns a bit red before hurrying out of class. He has had bad grades before, he’ll  just talk to Coach Erskine and have Tony bullshit some extra credit for him so he will at least have a passing grade. Everything will be fine. It always is.

-----------------

Lunch starts and Steve’s mood is stuck in a dreary, forlorn cloud of melancholy. The lunch he  

grabbed looks unappetizing now, a bland peanut butter and jelly, a few dried out carrots, and a bag of crumbled chips. He sits at their usual table, but for the most part stays out of the conversation. Tony is boisterously complaining about “Pepper this” and “Pepper that” and it’s giving him a headache. He rests his head in hands, trying to block out Tony’s obnoxious voice.

A tap on his shoulder causes him to turn around. The redhead who Sam claims is leading the KGB, Natasha? is standing behind him, her hair casually thrown over one shoulder. She slides into the seat next to him, her back to the table, and crosses her black skinny jean clad legs.

“Go fix it with James.” She says, hooking her elbows on the table, embodying causality.

“Look. There isn’t an issue to fix. He doesn’t like the person I’ve become so thats that.” He says, turning back to his pitiful lunch. She uncrosses her legs and stand up, grabbing a crumb of a chip. She pops it in her mouth and pushes her hair over a shoulder.

“Well, currently you both are trapped in your own clouds of self pity. I just don’t want to have to deal with him when it starts to rain.” She responds and motions to his eyes. “And by the red around your eyes, I’d say it’s started to pour.” Steve watches in confusion as she walks away. He pulls out his phone and brings up the camera. Sure enough, his blue eyes are rimmed with red. He rubs them and takes a sip of water, trying to rid the dry taste in his mouth. Peggy leans in next to him, taking out a salad.

“Can we talk for a moment?” She asks, motioning to the cafeteria doors. He nods, the confusion evident on his face.

“Uh, sure?” He replies, standing up as Tony and Clint say matching, “Ooooooooooooh!” Steve flicks them off behind his back and follows. She leads the way, her small black heels clicking on the floor. When they enter the hallway, she whirls around, turning to face him.

“I talked to Mr. Zola. I thought you promised you’d try this year!” She says, her brown eyes creasing in disappointment.

“I am, Pegs! This is me trying!” He responds.

“Really? Barely passing grades only a week into school is you trying?” She retorts. “How do you expect to get into a good college when you’re scraping by on a C-?”

“I don’t know, I’ll get a football scholarship or something.” He answers.  “Look, it’s only been a few days, let me work on it.” He says, trying to compromise. She shakes her head, her red stained lips sealing in disapproval.

“You and I both know that’s not enough for a college.” She responds, her voice lowering in volume and tone.

“Then maybe I just won’t go to college!” He snaps. Pushing past her, Steve returns to the cafeteria, grabbing his lunch. He drops it in the trash and storms out. He wanders the hall, both fights replaying in his head. Running a hand over his face, he sighs and looks at the door he’s in front of. It’s the art room. He opens it slowly, looking around to confirm that he’s alone and pokes his head inside. The room is spacious and, thank God, empty. He slips inside and picks up a pencil.

Steve sweeps the graphite across the page, his hands moving automatically. He sketches for the remaining time of lunch and pauses when the bell signaling passing time rings. His sketch had transformed into a human face, but the drawing is split, a clear line down the middle. The nose is two different shapes, the mouth on one side open and smiling, the other closed with a small, forced smile. One eye has a glint, like it’s sharing a private joke with the artist. The other is outlined softly in charcoal, and also with a glint, but the eye is shaped into a disapproving crease. Steve sets the drawing down, backing away fast. He races out the door, leaving the pad of paper sitting in the middle of the room on a table.

-----------------

“This blows, guys.” Tony complains as their groups sits at their normal booth at Selvig’s. “This is so boring, why can’t we ever do something fun?”

“Well what do you suggest, hmm?” Sam responds a little irritatedly, as Tony had been complaining for the last 10 minutes.

“I don’t know! Anything but this!” He moans dramatically before dropping his head onto the table. Clint gets up to go to the bathroom as he says this, obviously as bored as the rest of them.

Thor, distracted by Jane as he always is, completely ignores their conversation and gets up, a determined look on his face. “I’m going to talk to her.” He says and begins to walk over to her.

A jingly tone begins to play, and Sam pulls his phone out of his pocket muttering, “I’ve got to take this,” as he stands and moves outside. Leaving Steve alone with Tony.

Tony’s face lights up as he grins at Steve. “Okay Steve I have the best way for you to get over Peggy!” He exclaims.

“We haven’t broken up.” Steve responds automatically.

“Whatever.” Tony fires back quickly. “Well, you see that girl over there?” He points out the window to a raven haired girl sitting on a bench outside. “Go out and.. I don’t know, do some cool motorcycle tricks or something, to impress her.”

Steve just rolls his eyes, “In case you’ve forgotten, I have a girlfriend.” He reminds him, rolling his eyes.

“Wuss.” Tony mutters and Steve’s jaw clenches. He is not a wuss. He knows Tony is only saying that to get him riled up, but today is not a good day to have to keep his temper in check.

“Fine.” He says and marches outside to get on his motorcycle. He’s never actually done a trick, but he figures they can’t be that hard. He pulls on his helmet, and begins to ride a bit down the street. He begins to go quickly down the vacant avenue and preps himself to leap off, turning it in midair. As he begins to jump, he glances at the girl and realizes that Bucky’s younger sister, Becca , is the girl he was ‘trying to impress’. His hands slip off of the handles, momentarily distracted and the motorcycle crashes to the ground, dragging Steve one handed along with it. He can already tell he is bleeding as he is being dragged, and he winces at the sting of the gravel.

“Steve!” Becca yells and comes rushing over, Tony, Sam and Clint following. “Are you okay?”

Steve forces a smile and grunts, “Ow.”

“I should call an ambulance-” She starts before Steve cuts her off.

“No!” Thinking of what his mom’s reaction to this would be. “Really, I’m fine Becs-” Steve’s face goes beet red as he stammers, “Um, I mean Becky.”

She smiles sympathetically before nodding and getting up to leave as his friends step in.

“Steve, what the hell were you thinking?!” Sam practically screams at him. “God, you are such an idiot, what in your right mind would make you think that whatever you were trying to do would work?! We need to get you to a hospital!”

“No, Sam it's fine. It's just a scrape, I’ll be fine.” Steve responds tiredly.

“No it’s not just a scrape! You're bleeding all over, you need medical attention!” He fires back.

“No I don't! God Sam leave me alone!” He yells and realizes he made a mistake when he sees Sam’s hurt face.

“Fine. Have fucking fun taking care of yourself then. Since clearly you don't need me here.” Sam days before storming off, Clint following after giving Steve a worried glance.

Then it's just him and Tony again. Tony offers him a hand to help him up but he just grunts angrily and gets up on his own. Tony raises his hands in defense before stalking away.

He picks his motorcycle back up and checks for any important damage. Nope. Seems like Steve’s the only damaged one here. He closes up his leather jacket before riding quickly home, trying not to irritate the scrapes before he can deal with them alone.

-------------------

Steve delicately parks his motorcycle in their driveway and staggers in, feeling dizzy, but maintaining a normal face, so his mom doesn’t suspect anything. He walks in, glancing around to see if his mother is home yet. He doesn’t see her anywhere so he dashes in and bolts up the stairs as fast as he can, ignoring the wound that opens up again whilst doing so. He grabs the med pack from the hall closet and shuts himself in his room. Just as he is about to take off his jacket, he remembers the window. It’s been so long since he has actually had to be aware of Bucky being able to see him, that it has become a habit never to close his blinds. He closes them now. If Bucky saw... He would tell Steve’s mom. No doubt about that. And Steve just can’t have that.

He takes off his jacket and tenderly gets the shirt off. He has three huge scrapes on his left side, which had begun to scab over before he ran up the stairs and opened them. And and although it hasn’t shown yet, he can feel the bruises around the edges, leading up his arm and down to his hip.

He grabs a roll of gauze and begins to wrap it around himself. After he thinks he has wrapped it a sufficient amount, he wraps more bandages around himself. As he starts to pack up the supplies he hears footsteps going up the stairs.

“Shit,” he mutters and throws the first aid kit under his bed quickly, whilst diving under his covers. He lands on his left side and winces, biting his hand to stop from crying out.

“Sweetie?” Sarah says as she opens the door lightly, he is turned the other way, staring at the wall instead of at her. This is the first time Steve has ever hidden something from his mom, and it is killing him. “It’s only 6:00. Are you alright?” She comes to sit by the bed and he pulls up the covers higher, hiding under his covers as if he’s a little boy again, hiding from the imaginary monsters. How inaccurate, the person everyone seems to think is a monster being the one under the covers.  

“I’m just.. Just tired.” He responds and he can practically feel her not believing him.

“Mm-hmm okay.” She retaliates. “Now, what’s actually wrong?”

“Oh, you know. Just everyone I care about, except you, hates me now, so.. there’s that.” And it’s not a lie. It has been killing him all day about Bucky and Peggy and now Clint and Sam are thrown into the mix. Plus, the half truth is still the truth, right?

She purses her lips sympathetically and reaches over to rub his back and he flinches slightly from her touch. “Now I don’t think that’s true, but I do know how you could fix part of that. Talk to Bucky. Apologize for whatever you’re fighting about because, trust me, it is killing him too. He is just too proud to admit it.” Steve tries, and fails, to smile and just nods.

“Okay, maybe I will. Now, I actually am tired so could you maybe..” He trails off but Sarah gets the memo. She nods and walks out the door, pausing before shutting it.

“Love you.” She says tenderly.

“I love you too, mom.” Steve says, before drifting to sleep.

-------------------------

The next day hurts like a bitch. Steve rolls out of bed, immediately wincing in pain. He hobbles to the bathroom, pulling out the first aid kit. Looking in the mirror, he cringes. His blonde hair is sticking in all directions and there are already slight bags under his eyes. He quickly runs his hands under cold water and splashes his face. Pulling off his shirt, he checks the bandages he put on the night before. The middle scrape almost bled through the gauze during the night.

“Ah!” He yelps as he unwraps the bandage, his face contorted with pain.

“Honey? Everything okay?” Sarah’s voice drifts through the closed door.  He grits his teeth and pulls off the rest of the bandage.

“Fine! All okaaay!” His voice cracks in pain as he lightly touches the wound.

“Okay! I’m going to the Barnes’ a little early. Breakfast is on the table! Have fun at school!” She responds. He opens the door and pokes his head out, watching her leave. He runs downstairs and opens the cabinet beneath the sink, grabbing a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He dabs lightly at the wound, clenching his teeth as tight as he can through the pain. When he’s done, he rewraps it, pulling on a shirt and racing downstairs. He shovels food in and checks his phone. One text from Pegs.

I got a ride with Angie. See you at school, I hope we can talk more.

His food suddenly feels heavy as he finishes eating. This will be the first time he hasn’t picked Peggy up since the beginning of school last year. He shakes the feeling off and heads out the door, sliding onto his beloved motorcycle.

-------------------

“Steve and James? Could you please see me after class?” Mr. Zola’s German accent slurs his words as Steve starts. He’d spent most of class moping and letting Bucky do the work. He rubs his eyes and nods at the teacher as everyone gets up. Peggy shoots him a questionable glance as she walks out with Angie. Bucky looks at him too, only his glance is unreadable as he follows ensuite to the desk. He shifts his things to one arm and approaches the teacher’s desk.

“Yeah?” He asks, glancing down at the small man. Mr. Zola’s spectacles are perched precariously on the tip of his nose. He shuffles a stack of papers and folds his hands, looking up at Steve. Bucky is shuffling his feet on the dusty school floor.

“Steve. You’re…a  good student. You have good intentions at least.” Mr. Zola says. “But you’re school work is just… not acceptable. I know how important football is to you, but if you keep up how you’re doing, I’m going to have no choice but to tell Coach Erskine you’re academic levels are too low.” He clears his throat awkwardly while Bucky tugs at the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

“But Mr. Zola, I’m trying hard this year, I really am!” Steve protests, picking at part of the metal on his notebook.

“I understand, so I’m giving you a chance.” He waves a hand towards Bucky. “Bucky is one of the top students in the class so far, second to Peggy. But given, uh, you’re connection with her, I thought he might be a better option.” Bucky glances down at his feet while the teacher continues. “Bucky has already agreed to help tutor you this year on upcoming units and tests.” He says, pushing the paper stack to the side. “Will you accept?” Steve pauses, looking from the teacher to the student.

“Uh, sure.” He responds, trying to watch Bucky’s reaction, but his face remains impassive.

“Excellent. You start today in the library after school.” Bucky turns and heads towards the door, leaving Steve to have to chase after him.

“Hey, Buck. Bucky.” Steve corrects, stumbling over his words. The other boy turns around, his brown hair swaying slightly with the movement. Steve swallows, working up the courage to continue. “I don't really...uh… fancy the library.” More specifically the girl who always seems to be there, his ex, Sharon. “Can we do it at a house?” Bucky nods, his face still stony.

“Meet me in the parking lot. We can go to my house.” Steve nods as the warning bell rings and Bucky rushes to his next class.

-------------------

Steve treads slowly behind Bucky as he leads him into his house. Steve has been there more times than he can count, but the atmosphere is completely different now. As he walks in a young girl of about 10 screams, “Stevie!” and races towards him. It’s Bucky’s younger sister, Olivia. Once Bucky left, Steve had been the one Olivia grew up with as an older brother of sorts. Things like Thanksgiving and Christmas were still spent at the Barnes house continuing about six years after Bucky had left.

“Stevie!” A seven-year-old Olivia screamed as she rushed towards Steve as he walked into the house. It was Christmas and Steve was holding a present for each of the girls, Olivia and Becs. He set the presents down just in time to lift Olivia in the air, smiling at her.

“Hey, Liv, what’s up?” He asked, smiling at the little child as she giggles at him.

“Your muscles are getting bigga and bigga evewyday! Soon you’ll be like Supah-man!” She shrieked, she was still having trouble pronouncing ‘r’s although she was getting much better compared to when she was younger.

Steve grinned at her and threw her onto his back. “You wanna fly like Superman?” He asked and begun to race around the house at her delighted shriek, Olivia giggling the whole way. He was getting to the kitchen when Mrs. Barnes stepped in front of him, lips pursed, one of her thin eyebrows lifted and he stopped.

“Sorry ma’am.” He set Olivia down as she gave him a look and turned away.

“Rebecca is up in her room, waiting for you.” Steve smiled politely and went up with Olivia at his side.

When he reached her room, he saw her bent over a piece of paper, scratching away with a pencil. Steve smiled lightheartedly.

Becca had taken a liking to drawing when she had seen Steve drawing once, although she would never admit that was the reason. She turned when she heard them and grinned. She was about 11 now, around the age where she was clearly yearning for approval but thought too highly of herself to show it.

She took a step back and let Steve come up to look at her artwork. It was a detailed drawing of Steve’s mom, Sarah, in her natural habitat, the kitchen. Steve could tell from the many eraser shavings on the table that Becca had been working on it for a while and although the details of the face were not completely proportionate to the rest of the picture, Becca had been getting better.

He grinned back at her and raised his eyebrows. “Becs, this is really good!” He exclaimed sincerely and she blushed a bit, beaming at him.

“I know.” She stated and Steve chuckled a bit. That girl sure knew how to take a compliment.

Mrs. Barnes called them all down to dinner and Steve sat in between the two girls, both of them fighting for his attention. Olivia in a more obvious way, Becca trying to be more subtle in it, bringing up things he was interested in.

Olivia on the other hand would say things like, “Hey, Stevie I have a question.” And when he turned to answer he could see her trying to think of something to say, to keep his attention. It started as things like “What’s your favorite.. Um.. fruit?” and eventually retired to “Ummmm… Ummmm.. I forgot.” And then she would smile apologetically and he would chuckle, continuing the charade throughout the night.

Steve smiles at the memory, and squats down to greet the girl. “Hey Olivia.” He says softly and she throws her arms around him. He flinches at the contact, his bruises aching as he returns the hug.

“How come you stopped coming over? It's been sooo long!! Woah, Stevie, you're muscles are even bigger now!” The girl exclaims, her usual greeting for him. He grins at her before she seems to remember that she is a ‘big girl’ now and she steps back.

“Do you still like to draw?” She says in what must be her mature voice and Steve pauses. He hasn't show anyone, or told anyone about, his drawings in a while. None of his friends know, and he supposes he could be considered a closet artist. What would the team think if they knew he was an artist? But this isn't the team, this is Olivia, the little girl who still believes that ‘Stevie’ can never do anything wrong.

“Yeah. I do.” He says softly standing up and remembering that Bucky is there. He glances over at him and Bucky looks confused and a bit jealous.

Steve backs away and wrings his hands together awkwardly. “Well, I guess we should start studying then.” Steve grimaces a bit and Bucky nods hesitantly. He clears his throat awkwardly and begins up the stairs.

“Um, this way.” He stutters.

“Yeah.. I know.” Steve responds awkwardly as he follows Bucky up the stairs. They pass Becca’s room, where she is laying on her bed listening to music, she glances over to them and looks away before doing a double-take. She takes out her earbuds and saunters out of her room, jogging lightly to catch up to them.

“Steve? In our house?” Becca questions them.

“It’s just for tutoring.” Bucky responds quickly, red invading his cheeks and Steve rolls his eyes, irritated at how Bucky continues to push him away.

Becca looks at him suspiciously, “Okay, whatever.” She says, skepticism underlying her words. She turns slowly, looking at Bucky and walks back to her room.

They enter Bucky’s immaculate room, everything in order except for one journal, lying open on his bed, a pencil wedged in the center. Bucky rushes to put it away and Steve sets his backpack down. He grabs his Science textbook and notebook and goes to sit on Bucky’s couch.

His room has changed quite a bit since he was younger. Bucky’s robotman comforter and sheets, he had always loved the cyborg superheroes, have been replaced by different shades of dark grey. His previously royal blue walls have been changed to a light blue color. The colors around his room have changed from bright into a combination of gray and blue. It’s clear his parents redid his room while he was gone. His room looks much more grown-up now.

Bucky walks to a dark desk and opens the drawer, pulling out a pencil while a few sheets of paper slip out along with it. Steve doesn’t get a good look at them, just a few lines of words, letters above them. Steve shifts to get a better look but Bucky sweeps them up with his hand and places them back into the desk, shutting it tight. He plops down next to Steve.

They sit in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, no sound except for the ever present sound of Steve’s foot tapping.

“So…” Bucky starts as Steve says, “Your room has changed.”

They laugh lightly. “Um. Yeah, my parents redid it while I was, um, at boarding school.” Bucky says and Steve nods in understanding.

They sit for a bit longer, both people trying to think of something to say. Both looking anywhere but at each other. Steve can feel the tense air between them, he can feel it in his chest, all wrong, yet this is what it is like between them now. His heart falls at the thought, as it has been since Bucky came back.

“Very clean.” He mutters, trying to make conversation.

“Yeah… at the Academy.. Uh.. boarding school, it was kind of expected. I guess it’s just a habit now, to keep everything clean, to keep from being punished..” His voice drops out at the end of his sentence and silence claws between them.

“What were the punishments?” Steve asked after a brief hesitation, looking over at Bucky now and Bucky turns to look at him, pain in his eyes. Steve chest begins to hurt, that the only emotion he can get out of Bucky is pain. Bucky opens his mouth, then closes it. He opens it again, but is saved by the door opening and Becca walking in. Steve turns to look at her, his eyes questioning.

“I forgot to ask how you’re doing Steve? After the accident yesterda….” Her voice drops out as Steve gives her a pointed look.

“What accident?” Bucky asks, concerned.

“Nothing.” Steve waves the question away. “I’m fine, Becs- Becca. Really.” She looks at him, doubtful, but nods and leaves anyway.

“Steve. What accident?” Bucky asks, his voice more serious and commanding now.

Steve turns to look at him, which was a mistake, the concern in his eyes, softening Steve’s will to lie. He quickly looks away. “Really, Bucky, it’s nothing.”

“Steve.” Bucky demands an answer but Steve waves him away again.

“Why do you even care, Bucky?” He says, a reasonable question based on Bucky’s recent actions towards Steve.

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Of course I care, Steve. We were, I mean, you were… you were my best friend, I’ll never not care.” Bucky tries to continue frustratedly, “But, just, at school.. It’s hard because… I don’t really care for your friends or.. Or your ‘type’ of people.” He huffs and Steve has the feeling that’s all he’s going to say.

Bucky’s quickly-formed assumptions of Steve’s friends annoy Steve, of course, but he isn’t willing to lose Bucky because of them. “So? We can still talk and be friends without you joining my friend group. Come on, Buck.”

Bucky smiles at him, a tight smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Alright.”

Steve grins, feeling victorious. “Good. I’m glad we got past that, Buck.”

Bucky grins, and loosens a bit, pulling his textbook onto his lap. “We should probably start studying then.” And he chuckles at Steve’s groan.

-----------------------

Steve and Bucky are both intently looking at Steve’s science textbook, propped on Steve’s knee as Bucky points to things and explains them.

“See, do you understand? Because the mass divided by the volume is the density? So it correlates to water’s density as to what the reaction will be..” Bucky explains.

“Yeah, I actually do.” Steve says, surprised. Strange how Bucky helps him focus and distracts him at the same time. But whatever the strategy is it seems to be working because Steve is learning more than he ever has in class. “Hey, Bucky this is really nice… what you’re doing. Could I help you with anything in return?”

Bucky looks up from the textbook an odd expression in his eyes. “Umm…”

“Well, I’m not good at many things.. Unless you want to learn how to play football,” Steve glances at Bucky and grins jokingly, Bucky gives him a tight smile back, but Steve doesn’t notice. “Hey! Ya know what? I could get you a girlfriend! I mean it wouldn’t be that hard, cause look at you, but I could definitely do that!” He looks up at Bucky, pleading with his blue eyes.

“Welll…” Bucky blushes and looks to the side and Steve’s face falls.

“Oh. You already have a girlfriend. Shoot. I’m not sure what else I would be any good at. Who is she?”

“I don’t.. Umm..” Bucky stammers and Steve smiles at his beet red face. Clearly he isn’t very comfortable with girls, or the topic of them.

“Ohhhh, I see. You like someone. You have a girl in mind for me to set you up with! Alright you have to tell me who it is now! I bet I can guess. It’s that girl you hang out with.. Oh what’s her name.. Natasha?”

“No! I don’t…” He rolls his eyes, sighing for some unknown reason. “I don’t like any girls right now, so…. sure. You might have a hard time though. I’m not sure I know of any girls that are… my type.” He smiles to himself, a genuine smile, about some inside joke with himself, but Steve shrugs it off. He’s been confused enough today.

“Okay, great!” Steve beams and starts making a list of suitable girls in his head. He glances at Bucky who looks away quickly and clears his throat.

“Well, I guess this is enough studying for one day.” He says and Steve laughs in agreement. Steve gets up to grab his things and follows Bucky out of his room.  

“Steve?” Becca’s voice stops them at the top of the stairs. “Uh, can I show you something?” Her voice is hesitant and her eyes flick to her brother.

“Of course.” He follows Becca back into her room, Bucky behind them. The other boy stops at the doorway, leaning against it while Steve follows Becca to her closet. She goes to the very back and picks up a rolled piece of paper. She hands it to him and picks up a sketchbook. He unravels the paper and his breath catches. Covering the entire paper is a charcoal drawing of  a fourteen year old Bucky. He has a hand mid sweep through his hair and his entire face is formed into a huge smile.

The artist had captured everything, down to the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Steve recognizes the drawing all too well, it was his Christmas present to Becca three years ago. He had referenced it off memories, and a photo Bucky had sent his family. He glances up, but Becca had shooed Bucky away. She shows him a page in the sketchbook. He grins as soon as he sees what it is.

The drawing in the sketchbook is almost exactly like the drawing in his hands, except for the obvious differences. Bucky’s smile is controlled and tight, almost forced, a dark juxtaposition to the carefree and open smile on the other drawing. His jaw is clenched tight, and his eyes seem dull. It looks almost exactly like Bucky as he knows him now. A strange, heavy feeling sinks into Steve’s gut as he looks at the page.

“It's for Bucky, a welcome back gift.” Becca says, closing the book and rolling up Steve's old drawing, tucking both into a bin in her closet.

“Becs… It's amazing. When'd you get so good?” He grins, laughing a little. Blush crawls up her neck and sinks into her cheeks.

“I… Uh… Practiced a lot.” She grins under the praise. “You won't tell him, will you?” She asks.

“Don't worry, your secrets safe with me.” She smiles at his response and he stands up. “I'd better go…” He says, walking to the door. Bucky is leaning against the wall, his phone in his hand, typing something out. He glances up as Steve exits Becca’s room.

“Uh. Liv wants you to stay for dinner. My mom approved it, but you totally don't have to…” He slips his phone into his pocket and Steve realizes what's different. Bucky's hair is swept back in a tiny ponytail, held back with a hair tie. A weird feeling swirls in his stomach at the sight.

“Uh sure… But um let me talk with my mom first?” Steve stammers and jerks a thumb towards the stairs. Bucky nods and Steve rushes down the stairs, tripping over his own feet. He stumbles into the kitchen, only to find his mom grinning at him. “Hi! Uh can I stay for dinner?” Sarah smiles even harder at the question.

“Of course! It's great to see you two friends again! You know, Bucky really missed you.” She replies, swinging a dishcloth through the air to remove excess water. “Tell Bucky we’re having spaghetti.” She says as she dries a glass.  Steve nods and slips out of the kitchen, rushing to the first floor bathroom. He closes the door and leans his back flat against it, taking a deep breath. All this...all this is too much. He always thought he'd be ready for Bucky to come back, to be a part of his life again, but now that he is… It isn't what Steve expected. This Bucky is a somber, unreadable cold wall of newfound muscle and hostility. And yet… Steve felt him loosening up once they started studying, acting almost like the the old Bucky. He takes a shaky breath and splashes a little bit of water on his face. Breathing once more, he opens the door to go find Bucky.

-------------------

Like usual, as they’re eating Olivia ends up on one side of Steve, but instead of Becca on his other side, as it had been for the past few years, Bucky is seated next to Steve. Sarah walks in, placing yet another dish on the table, and grins at the two of them, which goes unnoticed by the two, but not by Becca.

“Thanks, Mom.” Steve says absentmindedly and Winifred straightens a bit.

“Yes, um.. Thank you, Sarah.” The words ‘thank you’ seem foreign to Mrs. Barnes vocabulary and after the rest of the family chimes in Sarah responds, a bit smugly.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Barnes. ” Sarah smiles as she sashays from the dining room. Steve nudges Bucky with an elbow, and the brunette looks up, his face seemingly bursting to keep from laughing. Instead, he ends up grinning, a real smile, spread from ear to ear, his eyes caught up in the contagious grin and it's honestly the best thing Steve has seen this month. He manages to finally smile back, then turns back to the table, picking up a fork and taking a bite. He glances across the table, his gaze locking with Becca's. Her mouth is slack, her jaw open slightly. Her eyes are wide and sparkling, as if she's just solved a puzzle and darting between her brother and Steve. She slips a hand over mouth and coughs lightly. Becca grins and flashes him a double thumbs-up.

What? Steve mouths his confusion to Becca. She doesn't reply, just keeps on smiling and begins to eat.

The dinner continues normally after that, and ends when Sarah yells to Steve that she’ll be right out. Bucky walks him to the porch by the front door, Olivia and Becca trailing behind.

“Bye Stevie!” Olivia practically glows as she hugs him, and Steve can’t help but feel warm and loved, his stomach clenching as he grins and ignores that she is wrapping her arms tightly on his bruises.

“Bye Olivia.” He hugs her back and looks over her shoulder to see that Becca is still grinning at him.

“Bye Steve.” She says, a strange tone in her voice. “Come on, Olivia. Time to get to bed.” She says and turns to wink at Steve before leaving the porch.

“So..” Bucky says awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Goodbye.” Steve says smiling at him and puts his hand on Bucky’s shoulder in farewell and Bucky flinches slightly, pulling his shoulder away and taking a step back. Clearly Bucky isn’t used to being touched, although Steve will change that. Bucky’s face has retired to it’s normal, guarded expression, oddly, although Steve doesn’t know how he brought that about. He begins out the door, but turns and says,“And hey, don’t you worry, I am an amazing match-maker.” He walks backwards, yelling to Steve through the screen door, “You won’t be sorry!” He grins at him and he can faintly see Bucky trying to hide a grin back at him.

“Goodbye Steve.” He calls out and then walks inside, shaking his head.

Chapter Text

A few weeks of tutoring sessions and Steve finally felt confident about his science and his grade was a well earned C. Things between Peggy and him had cooled now that his grades were up. Coach Erskine had him lead the next few practices for football and on top of that, Tony had stopped being an ass to Peter and was actually being somewhat respectable around other people, (or as respectable as a Stark could get.) Bucky had been acting better during the tutoring, and it seemed like he was almost back to the old Bucky. Everything was looking up for Steve and he had a good feeling about this week. As he entered the science class with Peggy at his side, he sat next to Bucky, grinning.

“I think I found you the perfect girl.” He whispers as Mr. Zola walks into the room. He glances to see the other boy’s reaction, but all there is is an inscrutable and impassive look on his face. When he sees Steve looking, he smiles slightly. Steve grins in response and opens his notebook.  

-------------------

Bucky turns to his name being shouted across the cafeteria and winces. Steve seems to conveniently forget their agreement about not being friends whenever he finds a new girl to set Bucky up with. People watch as Steve makes his way to Bucky, a girl trailing behind him and Bucky keeps himself from facepalming. Bucky had politely turned down every single girl that Steve had presented, hoping that Steve would give up. But apparently these hopes are futile. Because although Bucky has blatantly said numerous times that no girl at this school was his type, Steve has tried basically every girl in the Junior class. And every time Bucky has refused them, Steve has seemed more and more confused.

Today he parades a girl with light brown curls and a tight smile plastered on her face. This must be the girl he mentioned in Science. Bucky could swear he'd seen her before but can't seem to place where.

“Hi. I'm Angie, Angie Martinelli.” She said sitting down next to him.

“Bucky Barnes. We’re in Science together, right?” Bingo. That's where he knows her from.

She loosens a bit at this and nods. “Yeah.” She opens her mouth to say more, but Steve interrupts, sitting down next to Bucky.

“She’s good friends with Peggy and I was thinking we could all go out on a double date!” Steve pleads, and Bucky glances at Angie, her expression unreadable.

“Steve, can I talk to you alone for a second?” Steve nods and they walk over to the side of the cafeteria and all the sudden Bucky gets a burst of confidence. He will just tell Steve that he’s gay. He has told other people, it's not like it's really a secret. So he steels himself and looks up at Steve and the desperate expression on his face. And Bucky remembers he agreed to this as the payment for tutoring. Steve will always feel like he owes Bucky if he doesn't do this. And that shit has already gotten extremely annoying.

So Bucky’s confession can wait for another day.

“If I go on this date, will you leave me alone about the whole girlfriend thing?” Bucky asks.

Steve grins at him and does a little victory dance, “Yes! And I promise you'll love Angie. Peggy talks about her all the time!”

They walk back to the table and share Bucky's confirmation with Angie. She smiles, though Bucky can tell that something is off about her cheery expression.

-------------------

Bucky tugs at the collar of his black button down. He had chosen some of his nicer looking clothes for tonight, though he wasn’t quite sure why. It definitely wasn’t because of Angie, that was for sure. A part of Bucky feels bad about allowing Steve to set them up when in the end, he knows it's not going to go anywhere. It can’t go anywhere, at least not on Bucky’s end. He’d figured out his preferences at boarding school, but hadn’t told anyone his sexuality yet. Bucky runs a hand through his hair, sweeping it back and then adding a bit of styling gel to make it look a little bit nicer than the limp strands he normally has. Grabbing his phone and wallet, he heads out the door.

When he shows up at the restaurant Steve chose, he immediately notices the blonde’s motorcycle parked in the parking lot. He pulls the door open and waits nervously at the front, where a waitress about his age is standing.

“How many?” She asks, starting to pull out menus.

“Uh… There’s someone waiting for me.” He says, and slips past her, walking quickly to Steve’s spot. The table he got was in the corner of the restaurant, quiet and secluded.  He slides into the chair next to Steve so the girls could face them. Steve smiles up at him and shifts in his chair to position himself so he’s facing the other boy.

“You look good all cleaned up!” He jokes.

“Thanks… uh so do you.” He smiles a little and fiddles with the napkin lying on the table in front of him. “Where are the girls?” Bucky asks. He expected Steve to drive Peggy here.

“Pegs is helping Angie get ready. Apparently she’s really nervous about tonight.” Steve nudges Bucky with an elbow as Bucky feigns a smile. “Now that’s the Buck I remember. I mean, in fourth grade all it took was a little smile and all the girls were tripping over themselves for you.” Bucky laughs a little at that, as the doors to the restaurant open to reveal the two boys’ dates. Peggy looks really nice in a white blouse and a black skirt. Her hair is styled the usual way, and her lips bare her signature red lipstick. Angie is wearing a pale blue dress and has a white cardigan over it. Her hair is curled and pinned back and clearly she put a lot of effort into looking nice tonight.

Guilt twists in Bucky’s stomach at the sight. Angie deserves someone special, and that isn’t him. The girls sit down and Peggy takes a sip of water.

“You look great, Peg.” Steve smiles warmly at the other girl.

“Thank you, you don’t looks so bad yourself.” Peggy responds with a wink, her British accent flaunting the words. Angi stares at her plate and Bucky feels his stomach sink deeper.

“You look really good, too.” He says quickly. She looks up and smiles tightly.

“Thank you.” She says. And so the night proceeds with awkward conversations between Bucky and Angie and a non stop flow of Peggy and Steve talking. About halfway through the night, Peggy stands up and excuses herself to the bathroom. After an awkward silence, Steve’s phone rings and he slips out of his chair to answer it. Immediately, Bucky leans forward.

“Look. I’m really sorry if I led you on in any way but I just need to let you know that there is no chance this could go anywhere because, well, because I’m gay.” He says, stumbling over his words a bit in the rush to get them out. Angie smiles.

“So am I.” She says with a small grin. Bucky’s eyes widen a bit, but Peggy starts to walk back to the table. She stops next to Steve and whispers something they both laugh at. Angie glances sadly at the pair and turns back to face the boy across from her. “It sucks being in love with your best friend, doesn’t it?” She says quietly as the couple return to the table.

“What?” Bucky says, nearly choking on his water.

“Oh! I’m so sorry… I thought… I’m so sorry!” Angie squeaks, her face going red. The night goes smoother after that, he spends most of the time joking with Angie and swapping stories about who has the craziest childhood. It feels good.

As the night draws to a close, Peggy and Steve climb onto his bike and drive off waving. Bucky glances at Angie who has a fake smile plastered to her face as she waves goodbye. As soon as the couple are out of sight, Bucky slides an arm around Angie’s shoulders and pulls her into a half-hug. They part on a good note, both going their separate ways to their own car but swap numbers before leaving. If they can’t have a relationship  at least they could have a friendship.

-------------------

The next day at their tutoring session, Bucky’s mind is still focused on the revelations of yesterday's date. Clearly Angie has a thing for Peggy, although Bucky can’t tell if Peggy knows or how Peggy feels towards Angie. Steve is explaining the acid dissociation constant shakily back to him, but Bucky's mind is elsewhere.

“Hey so what's the deal with Peggy?” Bucky asks out of the blue and Steve grins at him teasingly.

“I thought I was supposed to be the easily distracted one.” He chuckles, and Bucky laughs a bit with him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean like what's the story behind you two.” Bucky clarifies and Steve’s eyes light up.

“Peggy moved here from London in freshman year. We started out friends for a year and started dating around the end of sophomore year. She liked me before I was popular, before I had all the friends I have now, before I grew into myself.” Steve smiles fondly and Bucky can't help but smile back. “And hey, you and Angie seemed to really hit it off last night!” He exclaims and Bucky chuckles a bit.

“Yeah it was a bit awkward at first but they got better. I'm not sure if we have a relationship in our future, but definitely friends.” Bucky responds.

“Well, at least there was something. The thing about Peggy is she has that sort of badass thing going for her, but she's also extremely protective….” Steve starts but is interrupts by Bucky’s phone buzzing.

Hey, this is Brock. I was just wondering if maybe you could tutor me too at some point? I suck ass at science:)

Bucky smiles a bit at his phone.

“Who’s that?” Steve asks, leaning over to look at his phone, but Bucky quickly shuts it off.

“No one.” Bucky evades, unsure of why he can’t seem to tell Steve that he’s gay. It shouldn’t be this hard. “Anyway what were you saying about Peggy?”

“Oh! Right. When my grades were too low she knocked some sense into me, I can't even imagine how she would've reacted if she had found out about the motorcycle incident or seen all those scrapes and bruises! I love her anyway though, protectiveness and all.” Steve chuckles, but Bucky's attention was caught by the words bruises and scrapes.

“Steve, what bruises and scrapes?” Bucky asks, concern flooding his system. Steven face flushes of color and he begins to backtrack.

“Well no they weren't really scrapes so much as minor little cuts and..” His voice dies down as he notices Bucky's expression. “Okay, so I scraped myself up a bit in a motorcycle...uh...accident I guess you could call it.” Bucky is silent so Steve continues. “But it's okay! Look, the bruises are already fading! They don't even hurt anymore!” Steve yanks his shirt off and Bucky's eyes go immediately to the yellow healing bruises covering Steve's side.

“Steve!” Bucky scolds and his eyes begin to trail toward Steve’s well-toned abs before forcing himself to look away. “When did this happen?”

“The day before our first tutoring session…” Steve winces with the words and Bucky goes quiet. It's been several weeks since Bucky started tutoring Steve. He didn't tell him after all this time.

“Steve,” Bucky's voice is significantly quieter now. “You didn't tell me for over a month? We're you ever going to tell me? This is what Becca…” His voice trails off and Steve looks at him in despair.

“Bucky, I just… I just didn't see why I had too and I didn't want my mom finding out.” Steve says and Bucky just stares at the floor.

“You didn't even tell Sarah?” Bucky says, his voice barely audible. The nerve of this guy. Steve has a great mom, a mom that he can tell anything to. He is incredibly lucky in having her, and yet he hid something this big? Bucky was always jealous of Steve. His mom cared about more than just how presentable he looked. His mom truly cared about him as a person not him as a trophy to brag about to her rich friends. Steve’s mom understands when Steve messes up, yet Steve is taking her completely for granted. “I think we've studied enough, Steve. You should probably go.”

“Bucky-”

“Steve, go home.” Bucky struggles to maintain an expressionless face.

Steve pauses at the door on his way out. “I'm sorry.”

-----------------

After Steve leaves, Bucky heads upstairs. He quietly puts his books away and slips into his closet.  He always loved the fact that his closet had a lock on the door. It made it a special place, something sacred. He moves to the door and clicks the lock on the handle before picking up his battered guitar. He leans against the back wall, strumming it quietly. It feels good to finally clear his head. He messes around with a few chords before setting it down to go grab his phone. He stands up, setting the guitar carefully down and opens the door. Only nothing happens. He jiggles the doorknob but the door isn’t moving. Weight starts to build in his chest and panic threatens to infect his body. He forcefully shakes the handle but it won’t move.

It. Won’t. Move.

Pressure builds in his throat and he takes rapid, shaky breaths for the sole purpose of inhaling oxygen. His body feels heavy and weak at the same time and he falls onto the wall next to him, sliding down.

“Come on. Swimming in the lake after hours? We have to try it!” Hodge grinned and slipped an arm around Bucky’s shoulder.

“I dunno Gil. We could get in so much trouble.” Bucky responded hesitantly. The other boy grinned again, smirking slightly.

“What, you’re scared or something?”  Bucky scowled slightly at that. He only had one more year left at this school and he didn’t want to mess it up.

“I just don’t think it’s the best idea!” He responds. “We have an exam tomorrow and-”

“Look, either you’re coming or I have to go find someone else.” Gilmore Hodge interrupted. Bucky glared at him.

“Fine.”

Bucky lifts his head and slams it against the closet wall. His vision is blurry, his ears are roaring and he can’t breathe. The pressure in his chest rose as his head spun.

“See? That was awesome!” Hodge grinned in the darkness of Bucky’s dorm. Bucky wrung his shirt out and smiled back.

“Okay. That was pretty fun…” He responded. “I’m gonna grab some dry clothes.” He said as he ran a towel over his arms. He walked to the back of his walk-in closet, (one of the amazing advantages to having rich parents) and grabbed a shirt for him and a little larger shirt for Gilmore. The sound of a door closing made him turn around.

Bucky fights down the bile rising in his throat as the flashbacks flood his brain. His throat tightens as another memory interrupts his panic.

“I was just grabbing clothes for you.” Bucky said as Hodge steps into the closet, the door closed.

“We don’t really need them, do we?” Hodge asked, taking a step towards Bucky. The blonde suddenly pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the ground.

“Hodge. Hodge. What’s going on?” Bucky asked, tripping over a laundry basket as he backed up. Hodge moved closer, and Bucky could see the glint in his eye. The other boy reached forward and ran a hand down the brunette’s cheek. The hand trailed down to the hem of his ragged old t-shirt Becca had sent him and yanks it over his head.  “Hodge. Stop.” Bucky said in a scared voice but the blonde grinned, his white teeth flashing in the limited light.

“Please, you know you like it, fag.” Hodge hissed and Bucky shrinked against the wall.

“Please. Hodge. Stop!” Bucky whimpered as Hodge slipped a hand beneath the waist of his jeans. Hodge leaned his head down, leveling his eyes with Bucky.

“You want this.” He said and slipped a hand along the other’s jaw and clenched it, so their eyes were locked. Bucky’s eyes were wide, scared, the eyes of prey, while Hodge’s were sharp, calculated, the eyes of a predator. Hodge raised a hand and clamped it on the other’s mouth, muffling his voice. The other boy spun him around, and his cheek dug into the closet wall as Hodge’s hot breath burned his neck.

Bucky’s head is flooded with memories laced in pain. He can’t breathe anymore and he forces the flashbacks to end before they get even more painful.

Hands. Pain. Ripped shirt. Pain. Muffled screams. Pain. Blood. Pain. Darkness. Pain. Nothing. Numb. Raw. Sore.

Bucky knows he ended up going unconscious towards the end, the pain getting to be too much. As he finally shoved all flashbacks out of his mind, he focused on his breathing. It’s all right. You’re okay. He’s not here. You’re safe. Bucky repeats to himself.

One. Breathe. Two. Breathe. Three. Breathe. Repeat.

Taking a deep breath, he stables himself. Shakily standing up, Bucky bangs against the door, trying to make noise, but nobody is responding. He finally feels safe again and stands up. Taking it at a run, he slams himself against the door. It busts open and he tumbles into the room.

“Bucky! Are you okay?” Becca calls, rushing into the room. “I heard a crash…” Her voice trails off as she looks at Bucky. “Why are your eyes red?”

-----------------

A few days later, Bucky wakes up shaking, again. The dreams are back. His mind torturing him, replaying that night. A few weeks ago, the dreams had finally stopped and now, because he had to go into the fucking closet, they’re back. After his most recent panic attack, he can feel himself starting to lose his composure. He can’t stand physical contact more than usual and he flinches every time anyone walks up to him from behind.

Tutoring sessions are the new least favorite part of Bucky’s day because they consist of Bucky fending off Steve trying to figure out what’s wrong. Trying to make things right. Whatever the hell that means, and it’s honestly so exhausting. Becca and Nat also constantly try to get Bucky to talk about what’s happening and the only people Bucky can stand to be around are his little sister, Olivia, who knows something is wrong but just tries to cheer him up and Brock. Brock has been a sort of a, (rhyme unintended), rock for him through all of this. Brock seems to understand that Bucky doesn’t want to talk and treats him like he always does. So Bucky has been spending as much time with Brock as he can.

As he gets to school, Brock joins him in the hall, walking silently next to him.

“Hey, what are you doing after school today?” Brock asks, his voice a bit shakier than usual. “Remember when I asked about tutoring sessions? Wanna come over to my house?”

Bucky looks at him, surprised. Lately his afternoons are all taken up by Steve, but maybe he could get some space by agreeing to tutor Brock. This will also be the first time that Brock has invited him over to his house. So, this friend thing is real now. “Yeah sure.” Bucky looks over at him and then glances around to see if Steve is around so he can tell him. He gets to his locker, turns and flashes Brock the first real smile he has had in days. Brock smiles back, and then quickly looks away. And it’s an incredible feeling, he feels light instead of heavy, fighting gravity as though it affects him more than others. He smiles to himself and looks forward to something, instead of constantly wanting to collapse onto the floor and never get up again. He walks to English, his head higher than it has been for days.

------------------

Bucky walks into science with Brock at his side, as he has been for the past few days, ever since Steve and Bucky’s argument about Steve’s accident. Steve has hit himself for that day hundreds of times, things were so good between them. Bucky sits down and looks away as he has been for the past days. He hates it. He hates how easily Bucky just cut him out of his life, again.

“Bucky, I’m sorry! I really am. I didn’t know you would be so upset about it.. Really! Please Bucky, I miss you.” Steve begs sincerely and Bucky turns to him, dark bags around his eyes, exhaustion clear in his eyes.

“Steve...” He says and it’s hard not to just want to pull him into Steve’s arms and just protecting him from anything that hurts him. Steve wonders what could be going on in his head. “I’m not mad about that anymore, I was disappointed and a little peeved, but I’m over it. I just.. I need you to stop pitying me and treat me normal. I can’t stand everyone constantly asking me what’s wrong.” Bucky huffs and takes a deep breath and Steve realizes that this is the most Bucky has ever told him about how he feels.

“Okay.” Steve says relieved that Bucky isn’t mad. He smiles a bit, feeling like someone lifted a heavy weight off of his shoulders.

“But, I’m going to start tutoring Brock also. He isn’t doing too good in Science either so..” Bucky scratches the back of his neck and glances away. “So, tonight I have to cancel our session..”

“Oh.” Steve’s stomach drops. Brock. The guy who replaced Steve. “Okay.” He looks to the board at what Mr. Zola is explaining something or other about ammonia.

---------------------

Steve walks into the cafeteria and almost drops his tray. Clint is sitting at Natasha, shamelessly grinning at her as she shoves him away. When did they get so close? Bucky sits near him, laughing along with Natasha and Brock watches Bucky from across the table. Pepper laughs at whatever Clint says next and Aldrich Killian, who had taken to following her around, watches her laugh, a strange look in his eyes. Steve sits next to Peggy and Sam at their normal table.

“Since when is that a thing?” Steve says gesturing with his head towards Clint, who’s staring at the table.

“Oh, well clearly Brock has a thing for him.” Sam says nonchalantly.

“What?” Steve says, and Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh, you mean Clint. He hasn’t admitted to it yet, but he clearly likes that Natasha girl. They’re lab partners and he talks about her all the time.” Sam clarifies.

“Huh, I hadn’t noticed. What do you think about it, Tony?” Steve asks, as Tony is intently watching that table.

“He doesn’t deserve her.” Tony mutters. “He knows nothing about her, and.. And they're nothing like each other… And he doesn't appreciate her!”

“Woah, Tony since when did you like Natasha?” Steve laughs at his little outburst.

“What?” Tony says, his eyes still trained on the table, but Steve follows his eyes and sees that he isn't looking at Natasha.

“Oh. Never mind.” Steve says and rolls his eyes, continuing to watch how easily Clint  and Brock fit in with them, even though Bucky has made it clear to Steve that he has some sort of aversion to ‘people like Steve’. Even though Brock and Clint are both on the football team. Steve tears his gaze away and glares at his tray.

-----------------

Steve closes his locker and swings his backpack over his shoulder and waves to Peggy as she slips into a classroom for feminist club. He opens the door to leave but catches a glimpse of red and blonde heads. He lets the door slide closed and slips around a corner to watch. Clint is leaning against a wall, his backpack dropped to the ground and he’s grinning. Natasha has her arms folded and is standing in front of her, a hip jutted out.

“Come on, Soviet. Just one kiss.” He whines. Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Net.” The redhead responds in Russian. She raises her head, closing the space between the two and smirks a little. “That Soviet enough for you?” Steve watches as Clint’s adams apple bounces as he gulps. A small part in his stomach tugs as a sense of yearning swept over him. It definitely wasn’t over Natasha or over Clint, but more so over what they had together. Clint’s yelp shook him out of his thoughts.

“That hurt!” He whines. The girl just grins at Clint, who is now stooping his shoulders and cradling his left wrist.

“It should. Otherwise I clearly haven’t done my job right.” Clint glares at her, but the cocky smile never leaves her face.

Steve continues down the hall, leaving the two to whatever that was. He pushes open the door and starts towards his motorcycle when he sees a familiar shaggy haired brunette heading down the steps in front of him with another brunette with short cropped dark hair. Steve immediately recognizes Bucky but it takes him a second to identify the other as Brock Rumlow, one of the wide receivers for high school football team. Brock says something that makes Bucky laugh, really laugh, with his head slightly tipped and eyes sparkling. It makes something in Steve’s gut swirl.

The two climb into Bucky’s car and pull out of the parking lot. Steve watches them leave, then straddles his bike. Switching the engine on, he sighs and rushes out of the lot.  

-----------------

Brock leisurely strolls into his two story house, dropping his bag onto the ground and going straight into the kitchen, as if Bucky isn’t there. He hesitantly follows and stands in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. He’s never actually been over to another person (other than Steve)’s house. He looks around, a sense of realization going over him that not all people’s houses look like pictures from an Architectural Digest magazine. Pictures of Brock throughout his life are all around the living room that Bucky is standing in. A small version of Brock, probably around 5 years old, is grinning at the camera, his left front tooth missing as he holds up the tooth. Brock in full-on football gear around the age of 13, rolling his eyes at the camera. Then a picture of Brock smirking at the camera around the age he is now in a regular outfit and Buck realizes this must be how Brock is around his family. It’s very peculiar because it is as though he is friends with his parents. He is distracted from the pictures by a sleek black cat, rubbing against his legs and he bends down to pet it, it vibrates lightly as it purrs and a warm feeling passes through Bucky. After a few minutest Brock comes back through the kitchen door holding two Coke’s and a bag of Doritos.

“That's Jasper. Grab my bag for me will you?” He says and begins up the stairs. After a second when Bucky isn’t following Brock looks back at him. “Well, are you coming?”

Bucky then seems to come back to reality and slings Brock’s backpack over his shoulder before following.

…….…

“So, I didn’t know you played football.” Bucky says as Brock takes notes on tonights homework.

“Yeah. Steve didn’t tell you?” Brock sneers a bit with that, though Bucky doesn’t know why.

“Uh no. He didn’t…” Bucky trails off.

“Well, I’m not surprised. Steve and I have never really gotten along well.” Brock grumbles, his eyes glued to his textbook.

“Why not?” Bucky presses and Brock turns to him, a bit irritated.

“Bucky, I don’t butt in on your problems. Please, don’t butt in on mine.” He growls and turns his back to Bucky. It’s silent for a moment before Bucky apologizes quietly and Brock sighs and turns back to him.

“It’s alright. Steve and I… it’s a touchy subject. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay.” Bucky says and then they return to the homework. Silence fills the space between them.  

After an hour or two Brock walks him to the door.

“Hey, I just wanted to say, I'm glad you came over. Sorry for snapping at you..” Brock says, scratching the back of his neck.

“It's alright.” Bucky responds again and turns to walk out to his car, but then he feels a hand on his shoulder and he flinches away from it.

“Hey.” Brock is behind him now, his voice soft and his hand still on Bucky’s shoulder as he turns to face Brock. “Do you want to go do something? I don't want to leave things on a bad note.”

And for a second Bucky is left speechless. And he can't help comparing Brock to Steve and thinking of all the differences. Though it's debatable which one would be seen as the better friend. He smiles at Brock and agrees. They start to walk and they head down to a park close to his house. They sit on the swings and chat. Minutes pass, and then hours and soon Bucky gets a call from his sister, Becca asking where he is. He sees the time and curses.

The two boys run back to Brock's house and as he heads to his car a sleek black cat runs across his path and he almost steps on it.

“Jeez.” He mutters, panting.

“Sorry.” Brock smiles apologetically, “Clearly he doesn't want you to leave.” Brock looks up at him but Bucky is already in the car. He smiles at Brock, says goodnight and drives off.

-----------------

Steve’s next tutoring session with Bucky is a few days after he saw the other boy leave with Brock. As usual, they head up the stairs, Steve going  on about another girlfriend contender for Bucky and as usual, Bucky waves him off with an “Okay, she sounds great.”

When the two get up to Bucky’s room, the automatically move to their favored spots; Bucky sitting on the bed and Steve leaning against the side of it. They pull out their books and notebooks while Steve continues the subject of the girlfriend contestant. Bucky nods along, half listening. Steve grins and pulls out a pencil.

“What are we studying this week, teach?” He asks with a smile. The nickname had become a regular thing during tutoring. Bucky rolls his eyes and flips Steve’s page for him.

As they finish up today’s review of the lesson in class, Bucky glances at his phone for the twentieth time that hour. Not that Steve was counting, which totally wasn’t. Totally not. The phone lit up and let out a little chirp and Bucky quickly grabbed it. Steve watched as he bit his lip. After knowing Bucky for his whole life, he knew what that meant. Bucky was trying not to smile or laugh or both.

“Who's that?” Steve asks, stuffing his books into his backpack. Bucky glances up.

“Huh? Oh, just Nat.” He says distractedly, but when he sets down his phone to put his books away, Steve watches the screen light up with a text from the contact ‘Brock the Rock.’ Bucky stands up and stretches. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom.” He says, heading down the hall. As soon as he’s out of the room, Steve tilts the phone towards him. The message is a photo, a selfie, of Brock holding a small black kitten, smiling. The text next to the photo states ‘Jasper misses you already!’ There’s the sound of footsteps in the hall and Steve quickly sets the phone back down.

As Bucky walks Steve to the door, Steve pauses.

“You really should consider Darcy. She’s awesome.” Steve says, his mind running back to the girlfriend hunt.

Bucky’s eyes look distant as he responds with a small, “Yeah sure.” Steve glances down for a second and then mentally kicks himself.

“I left my textbook in your room.” Steve says, checking his backpack.

“I’ll get it.” Bucky says, heading up the stairs.

“Whose Darcy?” Becca asks from a concealed spot on the couch. She stands up and strolls towards him.

“Uh, a girl I thought Bucky might be interested in.” He says distractedly. A loud snort echoes from Becca.

“What? A girl?” She asks. Steve nods confirmation, scrolling through a group chat on his phone. “Steve. Bucky’s gay.” She says and Steve freezes.

“What?” He asks, his head snapping up. Becca sips from a mug in her hand and smiles at the blonde.

“Didn’t he tell you? He’s got his eye on someone.” She grins. Steve’s head spins with this news and the realization dawns on him just as Bucky stops in front of him, his book in hand. Brock.

“You okay?” Bucky asks. Becca is still standing there, sipping from her mug.

“Uh yeah. Thanks.” He says, putting the book in his bag. “Uh, see you next time.” He says, and makes his way home.

-----------------

Bucky watches Steve leave. “Becs? Did you say anything to him?” He asks, closing the door. His sister grins at him.

“Nothing, we were just talking about Darcy.” She says, returning to her position on the couch. Bucky sighs and heads back up to his room. Steve was acting odd when he left, hopefully everything’s okay. Flopping onto the bed, Bucky checks his phone. One new text from Brock. Unlocking his phone, he reads the message.

Can you call me?

Bucky frowns at the text but dials the other boy as he fiddles with the strap on his backpack, which was discarded next to the bed upon arrival. Brock picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” The voice echoes from the other line. “Oh Bucky! Thanks for calling.”

“Uh yeah, of course. What’s up?” Bucky asks, slightly confused.

“Oh yeah, sorry. Okay, um, I need to ask you something and I don’t want to ask it over text but I wasn’t sure if you were busy and so-”

“Brock?” Bucky interrupts his rambling. “Just ask it.” He hears the other take a breath.

“Okay. I’m not sure if you’re even into guys but I really like you so I thought it was worth a shot. Do you want to go out with me?” He asks, and Bucky can hear the bated breath. Bucky’s gut swirls and he bites his lip to stop from grinning.

“Yeah. I’d really like that.” He says. They talk until Becca pops her head into his room to say goodnight. And that night, for the first time in a long time, Bucky finally feels… Happy.