"You asshole!" Bucky yells, slamming a hand down on T'Challa's chest. "How dare you tell Pietro about what we're doing! It's private!"
T'Challa looked confused, standing before the smaller as he continued to scream, face red with anger. "What're you talking about? You told me I was allowed to tell him. Do you not remember?"
Bucky pauses. "What? I never said you could tell him.."
T'Challa chuckles. "Oh Buck, that memory of yours isn't too good, is it? Come on. You specifically said I could tell them we were in a relationship."
"But we aren't.." Bucky bites his lip. "And I never said you could.." he insists. He didn't... did he?
"Yeah you did."
"No I didn't-"
"Just come inside." T'Challa says, cutting him off. "We can talk about this later, babe."
Bucky shakes his head. "No..."
"No?"
"No." He says sternly. "We're not in a relationship. And I didn't tell you that you could tell anyone what we were doing... I..." Bucky goes to turn around, but T'Challa grabs at his wrist, harshly turning him around and causing him to wince.
"Bucky, seriously. Stop being so dramatic. So what if I told him without your permission? It's not that big of a deal."
"Except it is!" Bucky growls, ripping away his arm. "You don't lie about this kind of stuff T'Challa. I just... just don't talk to me."
"Buck—
"Please."
*****
Bucky stared at the board in the front of the room, a grin on his lips as he listened to his history teacher, Miss Carter, explain some of her experiences with being in the army.
"There was this one time where they did a dummy grenade and threw it onto the floor. Steve, one of my very good friends who I had met in high school, leaped onto the fake grenade without a second thought. And we all thought it was real and ran, while he stayed on the floor yelling at us to get back." she says, holding a whiteboard marker in her hand.
"wait- you ran?" A random student asks, "cause you don't seem the type to run, Miss."
Peggy smiles, "No. Well, I wasn't going to. But I was grabbed by one of my other good friends and hid behind one of the trucks." she explains, "everyone thought Steve was very brave, Sam and I? We thought he was bloody stupid."
Bucky and some of the students chuckled, shaking their heads and grinning. Who new history would be so fun? Before Peggy had become their teacher, their other one was very boring and didn't make class fun at all.
He gave out work, wrote notes on the board and went on his laptop. But Peggy, she talked all about her experiences in relation to the work and always made sure that every single one of them understood what they were to do.
Bucky for once was actually enjoying history.
"And now, Steve never shuts up about how he jumped on a dummy grenade and would've saved all our arses from being killed if it were real."
"But anyway," Peggy spoke, turning her back to the class and tugging the marker lid off. "Today, in groups, you will be discussing your opinions on Adolf Hitler and his actions during the Second World War. You will have two lessons to do this and after that, you will be presenting to the class."
Bucky turned around in his chair and smiled over at his friends. Wanda, who seemed to be the only one prepared with a laptop, gave a small sigh and pulled it from her bag. She turned the device on and went onto a new word document.
"Okay, anyone have any ideas on how to start this?" Asks Wanda, shifting the laptop so that she could look at all of them. Bucky nibbles down on his lower lip, eyes gazing up at the ceiling as he tried to wrack his mind on any ideas.
"How about.." He starts, "Adolf Hitler was a politician for Germany and the leader of the Nazi party. He rose to power as Chancellor of Germany in 1933." Bucky paused, watching with careful eyes as Wanda typed, not wanting to go too fast. "To us he was an asshole who discriminated against Jews and killed over six million of them in fear of them taking over."
Natasha and Bruce laughed, rolling their eyes. "Yeah, we can so put that down, Buck." They joke, shaking their heads.
"Why not? She asked for our opinion, and I just gave you mine." Bucky exclaimed, flailing his arm in the air. "So what if there's some swearing? Miss Carter won't care."
"She probably will."
"Eh. Oh- Wanda!" Bucky yelled. "Write this down. It was absolutely ridiculous that anyone who was not German couldn't do all these things, when Hitler wasn't even German!"
"What?" Bruce questions, "he was German, that's how he was able to make everyone listen to him."
"Actually, if you don't mind the interruption." Miss Carter says, standing next to their table. "James was very much right. Hitler wasn't German, he was Austrian."
Bucky gave them a smug look. "See. I know what I'm talking about. But, Miss Carter?"
"Yes?"
"How exactly did he do all those things if he wasn't German? Surely they would've done something.. right?"
Miss Carter smiled softly. "I'm not very sure, James. It is quite confusing when you think about it. But, keep up the good work." She says, walking away and over to another table who seemed to be struggling.
The feeling of buzzing in his side pocket caused Bucky to jump slightly and his heart rate to go up. He scowled, pulling his phone out from its hiding space and read the message. T'Challa:
Hey, meet me in the hallway pls? I have to talk to you.
Bucky rolled his eyes and typed a response.
I'm in class, and u should be too. I don't wanna talk to u rn.
Please! It's important.
Fine. 2mins Max. Be there in a sec.
Okay, tysm.
Bucky shoved his phone back into his pocket with an annoyed sigh and stood from his seat, mumbling to his friends about needing to go to the bathroom and left.
He quickly and carefully walked through the hallway, checking left and right for any teachers, when a large hand grasped his wrist and tugged him inside the nearby janitors closet.
Bucky yelped, feeling his back being harshly shoved against one of the many shelves and his wrist being pinned above his head. The small light in the centre of the roof was flicked on and he squinted under the brightness.
"Bucky." T'Challa spoke, and Bucky rolled his eyes at the familiar voice.
"Why the hell did you take me into the janitors closet?" Bucky hisses, trying to tug his wrist away from the tight grip. "Let me go!"
T'Challa didn't bother to respond, and ducked his head down. He took one last look into Bucky's wide, angry eyes before forcing their lips together in a harsh kiss. The boy gasped, the other taking the opportunity to delve his tongue hungrily into his mouth. He slipped his leg in between Bucky's thighs, kneeing at his crotch and earning a soft whimper.
Bucky was confused as to what was going on. He didn't want to be kissed. He wanted his apology and then wanted to leave to be able to think over it all. Why was T'Challa doing this? To distract him? Make him forget why he was mad?
If that was the case, then this action only made Bucky angrier.
He tried to break away, but every attempt was stopped with a harsh shove into the shelf or rougher kneeing at his crotch. He didn't like it, not one bit, and was starting to get slightly scared.
"T'Challa-" He mumbled into the kiss, "st- stop!"
T'Challa ignored Bucky and kissed him harder, trailing his lips down the boys neck and cupping a hand over his mouth to muffle his pleas. Bucky's breathing grew harsh and feeble, fear clear in his eyes as to what may happen. Not knowing what else to do, Bucky lifted one of his feet and stomped it down atop of T'Challa's.
The other hissed, pulling away and grabbing at his now sore foot. "Ow! The fuck was that for?" He growled, glaring at Bucky.
"What was that for? Are you serious!" Bucky yelled. "You text me saying you had something to tell me, but you bring me in here just to make out with me to try and make me forget about being mad at you? You really embarrassed me, T'Challa. Why did you have to tell them? And I'm even more mad then I was! So don't you dare try talking to me.. please."
Bucky gave one last look to T'Challa before turning to storm out of the closet. T'Challa grabbed ahold of his wrist, pulling him back and keeping his grip tight. "I'm sorry, Buck! I thought you'd like it! I didn't think that you'd be mad.."
"Oh my fucki- really!? You thought that forcing yourself onto me and not listening to me when I asked you multiple times to stop, would make everything better?!"
"You do it all the time!" T'Challa protests, "you're always doing things to me as a distraction!"
"Excuse me? I force myself onto you? That's right up bullshit, T'Challa! Everything that we do, is always consensual. I never ever force myself onto you and ignore you when you ask me to stop. Whenever you want to stop, I listen. Because I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and because it's the right thing to do!" Bucky growled. "Now let me go! I don't want to talk to you right now, and I'd advise you to listen."
"Whatever."
T'Challa let go of the boys wrist, and headed over to the door, but quickly hissed over his shoulder, "don't come crying to me later today saying that you messed up. I'm really sick of trying right now." Before walking out the door.
Bucky's heart leaped into the back of his throat. He balled his fist in anger, biting into his lower lip and drawing blood. He hadn't messed up.. not at all. He stood up for himself and didn't let T'Challa push him around. T'Challa was the one who had messed up and Bucky should be the one telling him not to go crying to him. What had Bucky done anyway? T'Challa had gone behind his back and told Pietro about what they were doing. Who does that?
With a small sigh, the boy made his way back to class, quietly apologising to Miss Carter about leaving without permission and threw himself into his seat. He huffed, bowing his head and fiddled with a thread attached to his jeans.
"You okay?" Natasha asked, quirking a questioning eyebrow at her friend.
"Yeah yeah, fine." He muttered in response, not bothering to lift his head. "Just.. tired is all.."
"Do you wanna go home a little bit early?"
"Nah, I'll... I'll be fine.. how's the project coming along?"
Natasha and Wanda looked at one another, concerned. Bucky was becoming a terrible liar. They wanted to push the problem out of him, but they also didn't want to pressure him and cause him to hide himself in his room for the rest of the week.
He was getting better, he was actually enjoying school again. They didn't want to see him in such a bad state ever again.
So they left it alone. And when it was time for Bucky to leave, they waited till he climbed into his father's Ute before letting Tony know that something had possibly upset him and that he wouldn't talk to them.
Tony had thanked them and had reassured them that he would talk to Bucky, and then hopefully convince him to tell them what was wrong.
•*•*•*•*•*•*•
"Hey Buck?" Tony questions once the two arrive back home, placing the keys on the bench and leaning against it. "Can I ask you something?"
"You just did." The other jokes, jumping up and taking a seat on the corner of the bench. "But sure, what's up?"
Tony could instantly sense his son faking his happiness and internally sighed. This couldn't be good. "It's come to my attention that you seemed quite upset during your last period and that your friends are worried. Is there anything you wanted to tell me?"
Bucky groaned. Of course Wanda and Natasha fucking told his dad. Why couldn't anyone just mind their own business nowadays. "No. I'm fine. I told them I was just tired, and I am.. so I'm gonna go and uh.. take a nap."
"Bucky, you're a horrible liar. Come on, tell me what's bothering you?"
"Nothing... it's- I'm fine."
"The last time you told me that you were fine, I ended up finding out that you tried to kill yourself." Tony said bluntly, crossing his arms. "With the fucking pistol, Bucky. So tell me what's wrong! I don't want to wake up one morning and find you in the bathroom, no pulse and an empty bottle of pills next to you! Or finding you out in the woods, bullet through your head."
Tony was beyond frightened. If the problem were as bad as he thought it may be and Bucky ended up repeating his actions, Tony didn't know what he would do. Because... what if Bucky went all the way and he woke up and found him dead? He wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he couldn't help him. "Please, Buck. Please."
"Dad it's not that big of a deal.." Sighs bucky, running his hand through his hair. "I- I got into an argument with T'Challa is all. It's fine."
"Did he do something? Force himself onto you? Make you do something that you didn't want to do? I remember you telling me something about him still having feelings for you—"
Bucky gulped. That was practically what happened... wasn't it? T'Challa had forced himself onto the boy and wouldn't listen when he asked him to stop. But Tony didn't need to know that. Bucky could handle it on his own. "No.." The boy lied. "I- it was about what happened in the weekend.. our fight we had and... I just got really mad and so did he and he told me not to go crying to him telling him that I messed up, when he was the one that messed up."
"Right. I'm guessing you both got really mad?"
Bucky nodded. "Yeah.. I'm not really in the mood to talk to him right now.. I think it's best that we just wait this one out.. see if he apologises."
"Yeah, I think that would be best." Responds tony, walking over to his son and rubbing his shoulder. "You gonna be okay by yourself while I go help out Thor and Loki with fixing the chicken coop?"
"Yeah.. course. I'll come out and see you if I'm not.. don't worry."
He gave his son a small nod and pulled him in for a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. Bucky smiled into the hug, wrapping his arm lightly around Tony's shoulders and nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck. "Thanks.. for listening... I.. I didn't know if I'd be able to.. talk about it.."
Tony smiled gently, rubbing circles in the boys back. "Course, soldier. I get how hard it is to talk about your problems.. believe me, I know. But I'm glad you were able to tell me."
Bucky slowly pulled away from the hug, then leaned his head against his father's chest, sighing. "So tired.." he mutters, giving a small yawn.
Tony chuckled, ruffling Bucky's hair and pressing another kiss to the crown of his head. "Then go to bed, kiddo. But don't sleep for too long, I need you to pick peter up from school for me, please."
"Yeah, okay."
Bucky waited a few moments after Tony had left before hopping down from the bench and sleepily walking into his bedroom. He threw himself down on the bed, slipping into the pulled back covers after kicking off his shoes and snuggled down into the comfortable mattress.
He didn't realise how tired he was up until now and he sighed, pulling the blankets up to his chin. Bucky though, couldn't help but think about what had happened with T'Challa earlier and rolled his eyes.
He had to keep repeating over and over inside of his head that he did nothing wrong, but his brain wouldn't listen and drifted him down into an unholy amount of deep thoughts.
Maybe it was his fault that T'Challa acted that way? Maybe he was limiting T'Challa too much? Maybe he was being careless and forgetting that T'Challa still had feelings for him and just wanted to be able to say they were together...As he got to thinking more and more, Bucky came to the saddening conclusion that maybe.. he did mess up..
That it was his fault that this drama had happened. That he was the one who needed to apologise. The one who was always fucking apologising, due to his idiocy and selfishness.
He was such a fuck up. How did everyone put up with him? Bucky was so fucking annoying, relying on others to give him strength or the motivation to actually get out of bed in the morning, when he should be able to do that himself. He was seventeen, he should be in school right now, not in bed feeling exhausted over barely anything and loathing in his thoughts.
Bucky felt weak and so bloody stupid as tears began to well up in his eyes. Why was T'Challa still doing things with him? He created so many problems, only thinking of himself and not others problems. Distancing himself, isolating himself in his bedroom, his seemingly.. safe place. When really, there was nothing safe about it. His bedroom was where he had his darkest, deepest thoughts. Where he thought of if his existence even mattered, if anyone would care if he were gone.
Bucky was so far down in his thoughts that he almost missed the soft ping of his phone from his beside table. His heart stuttered slightly, mainly in fear of who it could be, freezing in his sobs and shaking.
Slowly, the boy, with a shaky hand, grabbed his phone and unlocked it. A message from Steve appeared before him and he gulped, tapping into it.
Hey, doll. I was wondering if.. you can say no.. you wanted to go on a ride with me? ~ Steve
Bucky gave a breathily sigh, throat dry from his small breakdown he was just enduring and bit his lip. Should he tell Steve what was wrong? That he didn't want to leave his room? Steve would understand.. wouldn't he?
Hey, Steve. I would but.. im.. not in the best of headspaces right now and.. don't exactly want to leave my room.. I'm sorry if I upset you in anyway by not coming. I just.. I can't. It's really hard for me to explain and it's probably really stupid. ~ Bucky
Bucky placed his phone face down on his chest, rubbing his fingers harshly against his swollen and sore eyes. He felt really stupid. Like Steve might think he's just some stupid kid who was only making excuses. But what Bucky wasn't expecting was the response that he got.
That's perfectly fine, doll. You haven't upset me at all, I just hope I'm not in the centre of those thoughts.. ~ Steve
It isn't stupid, Buck. Sometimes you can just break down over little things or big things. Sometimes you can overthink something so small that you end up just full on breaking down and not wanting to move. I completely understand. I just hope you don't mind if I.. come to you? ~ Steve
Bucky's breath hitched. Steve wanted to be with him? Comfort him and make sure that he was okay?
I don't mind. Not at all. I think it would be better if you were here, I kinda calm down when I'm with you if that.. makes any sense ~ Bucky
It makes perfect sense, doll. I won't take long. ~ Steve
Okay. ~ Bucky
And with that, Bucky turned off his phone and placed it back on his bedside table. He tried to focus on the thought of Steve coming over, hugging him and telling him that he was okay, but his mind went elsewhere and he was back to where he started.
By the time Steve had carefully sweeped through the boys window and had drew the curtains, Bucky was a blubbering mess. "Bucky?" Steve coos softly, toeing off his shoes and slowly making his way over to the sobbing boy.
"Steve?" Whispers Bucky, lifting his head ever so slightly to look at the other male, before his lip was quivering and he was sobbing all over again.
"Yes, hey doll it's me, shh shh." Steve shushes gently, slipping into the bed beside him and pulling Bucky close to his chest. "I'm right here, doll. It's okay, you're okay, deep breaths. Let it all out."
Bucky whimpered and hiccuped, squeezing his stinging eyes shut tightly as he fists at the soft fabric of Steve's shirt, hiding his face and breathing in his scent.
He tried to focus on Steve's calming words, on the gentle hand running through his hair. And soon, Bucky was limp in Steve's arms, every so often giving a small whimper or a hiccup, sniffling softly.
Steve smiled softly and continued to drag his hand through the soft locks of the boys hair, hushing him and whispering calming words. He tried not to let it show how Bucky's state made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. He hated it when the boy was like this, and even though he had no idea why or how he got into this state, Steve didn't bother to ask. He knew it would only make the boy more upset.
"Your okay, doll. I'm right here. Right here, I won't leave you."
"You won't?" The boy questions with a sniffle.
Steve shook his head. "I won't, Bucky. Close your eyes, love. Get some sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."
And Bucky did just that.
The boy awoke a few hours later to the brush of warm breath against the back of his neck. He fluttered his eyes open, adjusting to the light and coming to the realisation that Steve was spooning him.
His large arms were wrapped delicately around Bucky's middle, holding him firmly yet comfortably against his stomach and Bucky sighed.
He snuggled closer into the embrace, smiling when Steve responded with pulling him closer and exhaling out a long breath against his neck. "Hey, doll." He whispered, voice deep and husky.
Bucky almost shivered. "Hey." He whispers back, turning around and nuzzling his face into Steve's chest.
"You sleep well?"
"Yeah. You?"
"I did." Steve cooed, running a hand through Bucky's hair. "You feeling any better?"
The boy nodded, removing his face from its hiding spot so that their gazes met and gasped at the small space between them. "Y-Yeah.. I am.. thanks."
Steve smiled at him, caressing his cheek with his thumb. "Glad I could help."
"Your not gonna ask about it?" Bucky questions, confused.
"No. You don't seem like you want to talk about it at the moment. We don't have to talk about it at all if that's what you want. I truly don't mind. I'm here to listen or to just hold you."
Bucky smiled weakly. "Thanks Steve.. for everything."
"Course, doll."
•*•*•*•*•*•*•
~ Maddi❤️