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“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Clint groused, drawing the attention of the rest of the Avengers team. “Stark Prep has got to be getting desperate.”
Bucky followed the blonde’s gaze to the other side of the basketball court to where the SP team was settling in. It was a home game for SHIELD High and there was always a good turn out when they were up against their biggest rival school. Word was that Principal Fury and Headmaster Stark had once been friends but that they’d had a falling out and the two schools had been at each other’s throats ever since. Stark Prep was always trying to pull something, it seemed. Bucky wouldn’t trust anyone who went there as far as he could throw them.
“What is it?”
“There,” Clint pointed. “They brought a shrimp.”
“Holy shit,” Bucky said when he finally spotted the kid, practically disappearing among the players around him. “Are they signing on middle schoolers, now?”
The kid was young, the last traces of baby fat still clinging to his face. Bucky had met freshmen bigger than him. The uniform he wore was at least two sizes too big and he seemed to be practically swimming in it. His brunette hair was a mess and he clutched a tablet to his chest like it was a lifeline. Bucky was pretty sure he’d have to stand on the bench just to be able to look any of his teammates in the eye, couldn’t have been more than sixteen at the most. He slung and arm around Clint’s shoulders and grinned.
“Probably some rich boy whose daddy paid whatever it took to get him on the team. With him on the court, it’s gonna be an easy win for SHIELD tonight!”
The rest of the team shouted their agreement, though Steve just shook his head with a grin. Their team captain was always so reserved. But that’s what Bucky was there for, to ruffle his feathers a bit. Stevie would thank him for it later.
When it was time for the coin toss to decide which team would start the game with possession of the ball, it was the shrimp who stepped up to meet Steve as SP’s team captain. Bucky could see the surprise on Steve’s face before he quickly tried to cover it. He didn’t do a very good job. The kid just grinned at him and shook his hand. They exchanged a few words before the toss decided SHIELD would start. The kid said a few more words and gave Steve a slap on the arm before all but skipping back to his side of the court. Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve’s approach.
“What’d he say?” he asked as soon as Steve was within earshot.
Steve glanced back over his shoulder at the other team.
“He just wished us good luck.” His blue eyes looked troubled, though. “He seemed to think we’d need it. Bucky, I want you and Sam on defense to start. Thor, you’re on offense with me. The rest of our lineup stays the same as we planned it, okay?”
The team all exchanged glances, but nodded along with the new plan. Steve never pulled out their heavy hitters so early in the game. Something about that kid must have really rattled him. Bucky wished he had the time to talk to him before they headed out onto the court. Despite the oddness, though, Bucky had still expected it to be a pretty easy game. He was wrong.
At first it hadn’t seemed like it would be any different from any other game. The kid hadn’t jumped in for the first quarter and stood off on the sidelines watching the game as SHIELD scored their first point. Then SP had called their first time out and the entire team had huddled around the kid as he spoke. He had, Bucky noted, decided to stand on the bench for his little presentation.
After that, the game might as well have been a blood bath. They were being stopped at every turn, getting the ball stolen, and not getting a chance to take a single shot. Worse still, SP seemed to be having no problem making shots of their own. This was not the same team they’d been playing for years, Bucky decided. There was no way it could be. It didn’t matter that he could recognize every single face. There was no way they’d gotten this good. By the time the final buzzer went off SHIELD still only had that measly first score to their name and that was it. It was a humiliating defeat.
When the teams lined up to shake each other’s hands, Bucky kind of wanted to punch that kid in his smug, grinning face. He maybe squeezed his hand a little bit harder than necessary when it came time for them to shake but the kid didn’t even flinch. Somehow, that only made Bucky angrier. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky cornered the kid while the rest of SP’s team was getting ready to leave, herding him out of the gym despite his protests and into an unused classroom. It was only then, once they were out of the crowd, that the kid’s smug expression started to slip. Bucky could see the fear in his eyes, even if he did manage to cover it well.
“How did you do it?” Bucky growled.
He wasn’t going to hurt the kid, obviously, but that didn’t mean he was above scaring him a little. And Bucky had been told he could be pretty intimidating when he wanted to be. The kid sneered at him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Bucky punched one of the room’s cabinets, making a loud noise that had the kid jumping and his eyes darting around for escape routes. God, Stevie would kill him if he could see Bucky now.
“Yeah. I would. So I suggest you get to the telling me part.”
The kid shifted, the nervousness on his face giving Bucky a moment of hesitation.
“It’s just math, okay?” he finally burst out with. “I run the calculations, the numbers, that’s all! I’ve watched all the old games and I let you guys have one play to make sure your patterns held and then I adjusted our strategy to counteract you!”
The words tumbled out of his mouth just a little too quickly, his hands coming up in front of him as if to ward Bucky off.
“Math? You’re trying to tell me you fucking trashed us with math?”
The kid took a stuttered step back, bumping into one of the desks and letting out a little yelp as he jumped forward again. His head snapped around to look behind as if he expected another attacker and then refocused on Bucky as soon as he realized there wasn’t one. His shoulders were tense and his posture defensive even as his chin remained high.
“Look, if you’re gonna beat the shit out of me or whatever it is you plan on doing can you just hurry up and get it over with? The bus won’t have any problem leaving me behind and I really don’t want to have to walk home with bruised ribs again.”
Bucky froze. He’d intended to scare the kid, yeah, but…Fuck, he had not expected that. When he told Steve about this later and got punched, he’d 100% deserve it.
“Again?”
The kid’s lip curled. It wasn’t an expression that belonged on the face of someone his age.
“You think you’re the first jackass to think it’d be a good time to kick me around? Please, the only reason I don’t get that every day at school anymore is because of this stupid basketball thing. So you want a turn? Bring it on.”
He looked fierce, like a dog backed into a corner and ready to lash out. Bucky felt like the scum of the earth. He didn’t even think before wrapping his arms around the kid and pulling him into his chest. The kid, whoever he was, froze. Bucky didn’t let go.
“I’m not gonna hit you,” he promised.
The kid didn’t relax. There was a long silence between them before he finally spoke, slowly and cautiously.
“I need you to let me go. Right. Now,” he said with iron in his voice. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing right now, let me just tell you it’s a bad idea. I may not be able to fight you off but I will not make it easy and you can be sure I will make you pay for it. I don’t care if I end up in prison or juvie or whatever but I will find a way to kill you, do you hear me? You sick son of a bitch, I will kill you.”
Bucky leapt away from him like he’d been burnt.
“No! No, God, no! I would never!”
But the kid wasn’t relaxing, was still defensive and snarling and Jesus. He really thought Bucky was going to try something. Fuck. Bucky did not want to think too hard on the life this kid must have.
“Stay away from me.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you want.” He took another step back. “You, uh, you should get to your bus. And I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I wouldn’t have hurt you, I swear. And I sure as Hell wouldn’t have done…anything else.”
The kid gave a disbelieving huff of air as he edged cautiously around Bucky, never taking his eyes off of the older boy until he was out the door and fleeing. It took a long time before Bucky was able to return to the rest of the team and was incredibly thankful they were all so caught up in the loss of the game to notice how shaken up he was. He cut out early for the night and headed home to wallow in his own self-disgust. He’d wanted to scare the kid but not…not like that. Not at all like that.
Sometime around 3am, because Bucky couldn’t even think about closing his eyes after what happened, he found himself on the Stark Prep website, looking at the page for their basketball team. The team photo hadn’t been updated, but the list of names had been. It wasn’t hard to find the new edition, especially considering it had the label of ‘Team Captain’ nestled right beside it. Bucky stared at the screen for a full minute before he was able to comprehend what he was seeing.
Tony Stark.
The kid was Tony Stark.
Headmaster Stark’s son.
And, for some reason, he still got beaten up at school every day. Or he did at least. He could have been lying, Bucky supposed, but he didn’t think so. He’d been genuinely freaked out, genuinely scared. Someone in that position wouldn’t come up with a lie about how they got beaten up all the time. They’d come up with a thousand lies about why the other person shouldn’t beat them up. Bucky’d seen it in a hundred times right before Steve would drag him along to save whoever it was. Why wouldn’t the Headmaster put a stop to it? Surely he had to know.
Bucky didn’t sleep that night and only got a fitful couple of hours on Saturday and Sunday. He talked to Steve on the phone for a short while, but was distracted at best, and saw no one. His sister Rebecca actually snuck into his room Sunday night to ask if he was okay, if he needed any help. Bucky had hugged her tightly and said he was fine. It was pretty obvious she didn’t believe him.
Monday found him going through school in a fog, brushing off his friends’ concerns. He ditched at lunch, jumping on his bike and booking it out of Brooklyn and all the way to Manhattan. It wasn’t a quick trip, but he did make it before Stark Prep’s final bell rang. He waited at the gates, leaning up against the wall and dutifully ignoring every odd look sent his way. In his leather jackets, blackwashed jeans, and band t-shirt, he knew he didn’t quite fit in. It certainly didn’t help that Stark Prep was a school that required uniforms, the kind with the button up shirt and a blazer.
School had been over for almost two hours by the time Tony exited the gates, gym bag and backpack adding up to a laughingly large burden upon his small frame and trailing after a group of what Bucky recognized at players from the basketball team. Apparently Mondays were practice days…the same as they were at SHIELD…which Bucky had only just realized he’d skipped. Dammit, he was gonna hear about this one for sure. But he’d deal with that later, when the time came. Steve wouldn’t let him get away with it, per se, but he’d be a lot more willing to listen to an explanation than he would be if it were a different player. He and Bucky just knew each other too well.
Tony had his head down, clearly just intent on making his way out of there and not sticking around a moment more than he had to. He was far enough behind the group of players that they didn’t notice Bucky waiting for them to pass and then peeling himself off the wall, either. He approached Tony cautiously, fearful of causing any reaction like he had in their last encounter.
“Hey.”
Tony still jumped a good few inches and grabbed at the strap of his gym bag tightly as he spun around to face Bucky. He could tell the moment the kid recognized him, too, because his glare sharpened ten-fold.
“What’re you doing here?”
It was asked quickly, suspicion heavy in the boy’s voice. Bucky couldn’t blame him. They hadn’t exactly had a pleasant first meeting.
“I, um-“ Now that he was here, facing Tony, Bucky wasn’t actually sure why he’d come. He’d just known he had to. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Friday night,” he finally confessed. “I wanted to apologize, again. Properly.” He paused to give Tony a chance to speak, to tell him to fuck off and get lost, but continued when he remained silent. “I was so upset over losing the game that I wanted to know how it could have happened. I was so mad and I let it get the better of me. I wanted answers and I figured that scaring you a bit would be a good way to get them. Even if I never intended to hurt you, never even thought about anything…else, that doesn’t excuse my behavior.” He raised his chin up and looked Tony dead in the eye. “So I’m sorry for being an ass and I’m especially sorry for ever putting you in a situation where you thought you would get hurt. I know better than that and I can give you my word, though I know that probably doesn’t mean much, that it won’t ever happen again. To you or anyone else.”
Tony stared at him like he’d just professed him undying love and proposed but still stood poised to take off running at any moment.
“Um, okay…Apology accepted.”
Bucky grimaced. It wasn’t as if he’d come here with any specific goal in mind, but something was screaming at him to keep going. He found himself opening his mouth and speaking again without any real clue as to where he was going to go with it.
“And I just…I keep thinking about those things you said.” Tony stiffened impossibly further. “I don’t want to push you or anything, because that’s so, so not my place but…I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Tony snorted, his posture finally giving way a bit. Apparently Bucky’s status had been shifted from ‘possible threat’ to ‘yutz’ over the course of his monologue.
“Don’t you worry you’re pretty little jock head,” Tony drawled. “I’m just fine.”
Bucky was pretty sure that was a lie, but whatever. At least Tony was relaxing somewhat around him. He felt some of his own tension ease in response.
“Good,” he said, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than the situation warranted. “And just for the record, if somebody ever did trying something like that, like what you thought I was going to try, I want you to know that I’d help you hide the body.”
Tony rolled his eyes.
“Right. Thanks. I don’t need anybody’s protection, though. I can take care of myself.”
Bucky snorted.
“Yeah, that’s what Stevie always used to say, too.”
Tony’s brow furrowed.
“Your team captain? That Dorito-shaped buffalo? Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s right.”
“Oh, he didn’t always look like that. You should have seen that punk back in freshman year. He could’ve been taken down by a wet paper bag. Never stopped him from going after bullies, though…Part of why I feel so bad that I ended up acting like one.”
Tony’s gaze was more examining now, assessing Bucky for more than what he’d already seen.
“I watched all the tapes of your previous games with us,” Tony said, in a complete non-sequester. “Your stiff on your left side and your reactions are slower. Plus, you wouldn’t get so exhausted by the fourth quarter if you didn’t wear those long-sleeved shirts under your uniform. You’re a good player, though. With some work, you could really go somewhere.”
Bucky all but beamed, recognizing the olive branch for what it was. He shrugged out of his jacket without a second thought, holding up the prosthetic for Tony to see.
“The damn thing doesn’t respond as fast as my actual arm,” he explained, “and I wear the long sleeves so that other players won’t know to aim for my weak side.”
Tony was staring at the arm with wide-eyed wonder.
“Is that the QT7800 Grow-Pro? How long have you had it? Have you gone through any of the transition procedures? How’s the interface? I can’t believe this! I’ve never actually gotten to see one of these in person before! Oh, my God, does this actually go all the way up?”
Before Bucky even had time to react, Tony had dropped his bags on the sidewalk and had both hands on his arm. He was touching all over it, even going so far as to shove a hand up Bucky’s shirt sleeve in an attempt to find the seam between the prosthetic and Bucky’s body.
“Um, yes?” Bucky answered nervously, having only been able to partially follow Tony’s line of questioning. “My accident happened right when they were starting clinical trials so I was lucky enough to fit the bill. I’ve had it for about six years now, so I’ve got through…seven transitions. I hit a growth spurt at fourteen that was quick enough they had to adjust it twice that year.”
The Grow-Pro line of prosthetics were designed specifically for children. They were meant to be adjusted as the child grew, instead of having to be replaced, which was far more expensive and much harder to recover from. It was the only prosthetic of its kind and Bucky’s family would have never, ever been able to afford it if it weren’t for that clinical trial. The Grow-Pro was the only reason Bucky was even able to play basketball, much less as well as he did. Tony looked utterly awed.
“I did an internship with Dr. Yinsen’s company last summer,” Tony said with a grin. “The man changed my life, I swear. His work with robotics is unbelievable. He’s the reason I want to be an engineer.”
Bucky felt an eyebrow rise skeptically.
“An internship? Aren’t you a bit young for that? Hell, I’m still too young for that.”
Tony grinned at him.
“I’d already been applying for five years straight. They said that since I was finally sixteen, they’d let me do it but I wouldn’t be allowed in any of the labs because of the liability. Lame. I’m hoping to do it again this year and then next year I’ll finally be able to get my hands all over their lab space. Seriously, that place is like Candyland to people like me.”
Bucky couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Well, if you want, I guess I could let you take more of a look at my arm.”
You would have thought Bucky had just offered Tony a silver platter with a million dollars heaped on top.
“Are you…Are you serious?”
Bucky reached out to ruffle Tony’s hair, just like he’d done to Steve more times than he could count.
“Sure. I figure I owe you one, after all. Besides, a look’s not going to hurt anybody, is it?”
For a split second, Bucky thought Tony might hug him but then the kid froze yet again, his mirth evaporating like a puddle in the middle of summer.
“I, um, I’m not allowed to have people over.”
For some reason, Bucky was pretty sure he didn’t just mean he wasn’t allowed to have people over without permission, or on such short notice, or during the week. Again, he found himself questioning what sort of life Tony must have.
“That’s okay. We can do it at my place. That way I can show you the interface and the computer uplink.” He paused, suddenly realizing the potential problems there might be with that. “I mean, uh, if you feel comfortable with that. If not, that’s totally fine. We could go to a park, or a coffee shop or-“
“It sounds great,” Tony cut him off. He was smiling again, and looking more open than he had at any other moment. “And thanks. For coming here.”
Bucky couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that bloomed in his chest.
“I was happy to,” he said seriously. Then, “Come on, you can ride my handlebars. I bet even with you perched up there I’ll still be able to see no problem.”
He laughed at Tony’s squawk of indignation. He knew the kid didn’t feel threatened and, if Bucky had his way, he never would again.