Chapter Text
So there’s this kid and, well, Steve hates this kid. He’s all band t-shirts, with his custom leather jacket and tight jeans, and always there’s a cigarette in his hands.
James Motherfucking Barnes.
Rebel without a cause.
Seriously, this kid acts like he's punk, looks like he's punk, kicks the shit out of people like he's punk, and for what? Who knows? Steve sure as hell didn’t know. The kid never spoke. Never said a goddamn word.
Steve would walk the hallways of his Brooklyn school and see Barnes standing in the corner somewhere, headphones in his ears and not a fuck given. At least until some kid got to close, then it was all glares and posturing. Those poor kids would nearly piss themselves trying to get away.
Poor kids.
But not Steve. Oh no. Steve hated that punk, and today that punk just so happen to be standing in the corner where Steve’s locker was. So Steve walked his skinny self to his locker confident as hell with his head up, shoulders back, and not a fuck given himself. Well, on the outside at least. Inside his stomach turned into a knot, anxiety clogging up his throat and making him want to pull out his inhaler. But Barnes didn’t need to know that.
Steve wasn’t sure what Barnes was going to do when Steve got to close, and he couldn’t afford a visit to the hospital for a broken nose… again. Maybe he could convince Clarice to work on his face from home. Heck, Steve should probably know how to set his own nose by now. Sure would save on doctors bills and pesky questions.
Steve smelled cigarette smoke as he neared his locker and watched as Barnes brought a cigarette up to his lips and took a long slow drag. What an ass! Steve had no idea how he got away with it either. This was school for gods sake! (Not to say the lords name in vain or anything. Steve sent a quick apology up to his mom.)
Barnes’ eyes narrowed at him as he watch Steve stalk closer. Today they were lined by thick lines of black. His long hair barely showed a hit of purple where it was shaved underneath. The top grown out longer and lined his face right at his cheek bones making then stand out sharply.
Wow, okay, so Steve got why those poor kids were scared of him. But he wasn’t going to scare Steve. No fashion punk who though he was ‘different’ was going to scare Steve from getting his Calculus book. Midterms were next week and he was going to ace that thing if it killed him. Honestly, it probably will, but that’s a problem for another time.
Steve pulled out his Calculus and AP Lit book from his locker and placed it in his backpack, zipped it and swung it around to fit snugly on his back. Then, he pulled three extra pens out and placed them in his pocket. For some reason, he always looses every pen he grabs. It’s infuriating.
Last, he grabbed his extra inhaler and shut his locker door. He turned to Barnes once again, and glared with all the anger he could muster. Maybe the way Steve’s cheek bones stand out will make him look just as menacing as the punk kid in front of him, instead of sick for once. He brought his inhaler to his month and took a deep breath as he pressed down. The sharp bitter taste in the back of his tongue did nothing to curve his anger.
“Maybe next time you should be more careful where you smoke.” Steve challenged.
Barnes’ eyes widened slightly.
‘That’s right, punk, you’re not the king around here.’ Steve thought.
Barnes brought the cigarette up, showing it like a prize to Steve before pushing the lit end into the locker, putting it out. He shoved his other hand through his hair, pushed it out of his face and revealed a smirk.
“Sorry ‘bout that, punk. Didn’t know.” Barnes inclined his head towards him.
Steve blinked.
That…wasn’t want he expected to happen. And Bucky’s voice, was, well not what he imagined either. It was rough from disuse, which Steve did imagine, but what threw him off was the very strong note of kindness.
“Just be more careful next time.” Steve barely got out. He was still too stunned to know what he should do. All his anger had left, and he felt slightly lost.
“Will do. See you around.”
So there’s this kid, Steve Rogers, and Bucky hated this kid.
The thing that really irks him about this kid, the thing that really grates on his nerves, is that Bucky is nearly positive this kid has no idea just how punk he is.
He sure as hell doesn’t dress like one. Actually has this geek chic thing going on.
He sure as hell doesn’t act like one. He’s always on time for class, always going above and beyond, buying lunch for the poorer kids, and hell, Bucky even saw this guy help a little old lady across the street. The fuck even does that in real life? This isn’t some life time movie.
But man, here’s the thing. The thing that makes all that other stuff fade into the background. This kid, Steve Rogers- He fights like a punk. Bucky has seen this kid get into more fights then he cares to count. And always Steve fucking Rogers never, ever backs down.
Boom! This kid gets knocked to the ground, obvious broken nose. One hit and he’s down. Bucky would have bet money he wasn’t getting up again either. But nah, this kid loves proving him wrong.
Bam! Another hit. The kid comes right back up spitting blood and laughing!
Boom! Down again and right up again he goes.
Another hit, and down he goes again before getting right back up again. A feral little thing. Blood dripping down his jaw and eyes on fire. Fuck Bucky had never seen anything like it!
This would have went on forever if the guy beating the shit out of him hadn’t been so freaked out. It was obvious the only way he was going win this fight was if he did serious damage to Steve, and he wasn’t stupid.
So the guy beating the shit out of Steve raised his hands and walked away. The whole time Steve was yelling at the guy, calling him a loser and a chicken, with blood dripping down his face and seeping into his shirt. What a fucking punk.
Jesus, what a- DAMN what a-
What a fucking moron. What the hell did this kid have to prove, anyway?
And what a lucky day this was for Bucky, because today was the day he decided to stand next to this kid’s locker. All five foot two inches of this little dude walked up, glare in his eyes and scowl on his lip.
Well shit, Bucky wasn’t looking for a fight. Especially a fight he couldn’t win. So he glared at the kid, daring him to make the move. He just wanted his peace. This is a public fucking place, and he can stand here if he damn well pleased. But it didn’t matter, the kid just ignored him and shoved too large books into his backpack. It’s a wonder the kid didn’t break in half.
‘Here it comes.’ Bucky thought was he watched the little twerp turn to glare him down. Bucky wondered if he walked away if the kid would chase him down. The kid seemed to live for fights.
Instead he watched as Steve brought an inhaler to his lips and holy shit the kid had breathing problems. Goddamn, this kid was unbelievable.
He was pretty sure he saw this kid help some new person on the block move in, in the freezing winter air, right after getting the shit beat out of him. He was also pretty sure this kid was the one to bump into him running down the street like the hounds of hell were after him last week.
“Maybe next time you should be more careful where you smoke that thing.” The kid growled- An almost literal growl.
Un-fucking-believable.
Bucky lifted the cigarette and put it out along the side of the locker.
“Sorry ‘bout that, punk. Didn’t know.” Bucky wasn’t a fucking monster. The kid had breathing problems. Unnatural ability to withstand a beating or not, he wasn’t going to make the kid suffer.
“Just be more careful next time.” Steve said, and he sounded tired. Like it was a fight he’d had a million times over and he wasn’t sure if this was the last time or not. Bucky didn’t know what to do with that. So instead he just nodded and made his break to get the hell out of dodge.
“Will do. See you around.”
And then Bucky Barnes, walked right out the school doors, into the middle of the field and screamed. and screamed. and screamed.
Did he just...
No.
Did he just talk? Did he just, for the first time in years, without a single thought, speak actual words?
And Jesus fucking Christ did he just say them to Steve fucking Rogers.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.