Chapter Text
Bucky stopped in front of an abandoned building, checking over his reflection in one of its remaining windows. He didn’t look too worse for wear. If he took his hair out of its small ponytail, he could hide the bruises already forming around his neck. Once Steve caught sight of them, however, he would until they were home before giving him on of his famous judgmental stares. Sarah may or may not treat his bruises. The easy way out was skipping school, but the Academy was kind enough to put up with him and his mood swings.
-x-x-
Bucky hid in the bathroom as he waited for homeroom to end. From there, he would sneak into the first class. He was actually glad he wore his prosthetic arm today; it made freshening himself up a little bit easier. Ducking down to splash a few more handfuls of water over his face, Bucky sensed a new presence join him in the bathroom and instinctively flung water in their direction as a distraction before swinging out with his flesh and blood arm.
Rather than it being caught, his fist was easily deflected. Bucky squeezed himself between the sinks, arms raised to defend himself, and gave the stranger his full attention. Tall, dark, and handsome stood before him; they were roughly the same height, so "tall" could be removed from the description. “All students are supposed to be in class.” Bucky reluctantly dropped his arms, eyes narrowing. “Who’re you?” he muttered.
The other teen wiped a few droplets of water off of his navy blue summer sweater before staring at the brunet trapped between the sinks. He took a step forward, but the wild look that caused those slate blue eyes to grow wide and bright made him take two steps back. He offered the teen a disarming smile before turning his own words back on him. “If all students are supposed to be in class, why are you hiding in the bathroom?”
Bucky opened his mouth. When none of his famous retorts came to his aid, he snapped it shut and wiggled free of the sinks. When the stranger stepped back to make room, all hope of gaining a new friend sank through the floor. ‘He’s like them. He’s disgusted by my arm—or lack of…’ Bucky washed his hands and angrily snatched a few pieces of paper from the dispenser.
“May I ask you name?” stopped him from storming out of the bathroom.
Bucky glanced over his shoulder. “James Buchanan Barnes. Friends call me ‘Bucky’.”
“James.”
Dark and Handsome’s smile as he tested the name made Bucky send a thankful prayer to his parents for giving it to him. Bucky felt a shiver dance down his spine and he bolted from the bathroom for different reasons. Luckily enough, the bell rang to signal the end of homeroom and he easily slipped into the crowds of students suddenly filling the hallways.
Bucky’s first class was a Government and Civics class. He settled into his desk in the corner of the room. His mind was too preoccupied to focus on the rest of the classroom and its students, so he opted to stare out of the window at the world beyond the campus. Lost in his temporary freedom, Bucky missed the introduction of a new student. The bell jolted him back to reality and he almost fell out of his seat after noticing the desk next to his was now occupied.
Dark and Handsome smiled at his behavior. “You ran out before I could introduce myself. My name is T’Challa. I’d like to keep calling you James, if you don’t mind?”
Bucky wanted to ask why he wanted to be friends with him, instead he wordlessly shook his head, never more thankful that none of his other friends shared this class with him. The teasing would be endless.
Government lessons ended too soon and Bucky expected T’Challa to bolt like the other students, but he stuck around, waiting for him to finish stuffing his books into his backpack. Bucky slung it on over his right shoulder, shooting T’Challa a confused glare. “You won’t make any new friends if you hang out with me, y’know.”
“I beg to differ,” T’Challa argued, his brows furrowed in thought. “I didn’t transfer to this school to make friends, but I’m glad that I’ve already found one.”
Eyes wide, Bucky found he had no control over the heat he felt rising into his cheeks. He looked away quickly before his blush fully bloomed and kicked his chair under the desk. Bucky was certain some kind soul would confront the transfer student and warn him about his friends and how unlucky it would be to get caught talking to Bucky Barnes.
A certain incident during his Freshman year left Bucky the talk of the school. Faculty couldn't suspend the entire student body, so verbal reprimands had to do. Until the day Natalia “I like to go by ‘Natasha’” Romanova stepped onto the stage during an assembly, wearing a form-fitting grey t-shirt that read: B – Bucky, B – Barnes, D – Defense, S – Squad in dark letters.
Now people avoided him for fear of invoking the wrath of the BBDS. “That means they don’t wish to be your friend, zvyozdochka ¹,” Natasha pointed out during a study pile that had somehow devolved into a cuddle pile, her fingers combing through his hair.
For now, Bucky would be selfish and enjoy T’Challa’s kindness.
-x-x-
T’Challa parted ways with Bucky Barnes before the start of his second class.
Today’s visit to Avengers Academy was to get a feel of the school and decide if he wanted to stay, but T’Challa found himself following the teen that acted in self-defense against him in the restroom. He stopped the teacher as she entered and explained his situation before asking if he could sit in on her class. She agreed wholeheartedly. T’Challa spent his entire introduction staring at Bucky, who seemed to be finding the outside world much more interesting than the classroom.
Which is why T’Challa knew Bucky was being honest with him. Bucky Barnes didn’t know he was the prince of Wakanda and left all the barbs in his words as they walked down the hallway after class. The grin thrown in his direction when they had to part ways was what cinched T’Challa’s decision. His mother wanted him to get a better understanding of the rest of the world from an insider’s point of view, and by the Panther God, he was going to.
Gossip spread like wildfires around school and Bucky found himself surrounded by his friends; the founders of the BBDS and its supporting members. “We’ve had to do a lotta ass-whupping, Barnes,” Tony accuses, chewing on the tiny straw that came with the boxed drink. Natasha always gave him one and who was he to say no to the deadly Russian?
Today, they were eating inside the cafeteria. Bucky looked around the table with a confused expression. “So we’re bullying people now?”
Tony managed to point the straw, still in his mouth, angrily at the older teen.
Sam sighed, resisting the urge to yank it out and throw it halfway across the cafeteria. “Everyone’s talking ‘bout how you’re always hanging out with the prince. They think…” He didn’t want to repeat some of what he’d heard over the past week.
Bucky huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Now I know you’re all crazy. I haven’t been hangin’ out with a prince.”
Rhodey and Natasha share a glance, Steve and Sam share a glance, and Tony just keeps glaring at Bucky. “Tall, dark, and handsome,” Stark finally sighed, bored with beating around the bush. “You walk around campus with him without an official BBDS inspection.”
Bucky’s eyes widened after hearing the same description he’d given T’Challa during their first confrontation.
Steve was the one that reached over and pulled the straw from Tony’s mouth when the kid actually started choking on it. “He didn’t know!” Tony wheezed, hunched over the table.
Bucky imitated a catfish. “He’s… The transfer student. He’s a prince?”
“Buck,” Steve sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “How could you not know?”
“He didn’t say,” Bucky sputtered, looking at the varying faces of incredulity presented to him. He looked away to the tabletop, thoughts immediately going back to their first “unofficial” meeting. “Oh, God. I tried to beat him up in the bathroom.”
Tony howled with laughter. Natasha smiled. Steve looked horrified. Sam looked amused. Rhodey looked curious.
“I didn’t see him,” Bucky offered in explanation. “And he walked up behind me… But he only wanted to use the sink.” His head fell into his hands, groan muffled. He could only imagine what was being said about him.
“It’s all right, rybka ².”
Bucky threw Natasha a weak smile. He couldn’t be selfish with royalty.
-x-x-
T’Challa joined Bucky at his locker and immediately realized he’d been found out. The other teen barely glanced at him out of the corner of his eye before attempting to crawl into the small locker as he collected his belongings. “Does it matter?” he questioned, skipping the unnecessary small talk that would have preceded his question
“Yes,” Bucky mumbled, pushing books in while taking new ones out. “I’m not…” His fingers tightened around his Pre-Cal textbook. “You’re a prince.”
“And if I tell you it doesn’t matter to me?” T’Challa leaned his shoulder against the adjacent locker, waiting for Bucky to even acknowledge him. “It’s just a title. I’m just another kid, just like you. Just like them.” He nodded his head at the other students that passed them by. “I enjoy your company, James, and I thought you enjoyed having me around as well.”
Bucky slammed his locker shut, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the closed door. “’s been a while since I’ve had so much fun,” he admitted, his voice one tenor from sounding broken. “And that’s why I was prepared for it to go to shit soon enough.”
Still leaning against the row of lockers, T’Challa crossed his arms over his chest. “Who’s to say things are going to shit?” He felt proud knowing he put the trembling smile on Bucky’s lips.
“It’s started,” Bucky sighed. “I’ve already corrupted a prince.”
T’Challa heard what the other students whispered about Barnes, courtesy of his bodyguards, and immediately washed his hands of them if-and-when they tried to approach him to play nice. He also knew about the BBDS courtesy of a sandy-haired blond that threatened him in a roundabout manner, with a wide grin on his face. Clint Barton, is the name Ayo delivered to him.
Bucky turned and mirrored T’Challa’s relaxed stance, holding his backpack against his chest instead of crossing his arms. “If you’re royalty, then the two hot, yet very terrifying girls following you around are…?”
“My bodyguards,” T’Challa answered with a very amused smile.
Instead of the look of disbelief everyone else normally gave him after hearing about Ayo and Aneka, Bucky nodded in understanding. “Sounds ‘bout right. I started learning MMA from someone younger than me. She kicked my ass six ways to Sunday, then sat down beside me on the floor and told me what I did wrong and how to fix it.”
Bucky’s expression softened and T’Challa almost felt jealous, but he knew Bucky thought of the woman with nothing but respect.
Bucky suddenly jumped away from the locker, swinging his backpack onto his right shoulder. “Thinking about Peggy reminded me that I have practice today. You should check it out. That is, if it won’t get in the way of your princely schedule.” A cheeky grin accompanied the statement.
“Glad to see you’ve gotten over your fear of being seen with me.”
“I was looking out for your reputation, man, but if you want to ruin it…” Bucky trailed off, walking backwards with his arms spread as wide as the grin on his face. “I’m your man.”
“I would like that.”
They both froze on the spot, T’Challa berating himself for letting his thoughts slip out so easily. Bucky still had his arms suspended in the air. Gone was his grin, replaced by an unreadable expression on his face. Slowly, he lowered his arm, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder.
“Do… you really mean that?”
Bucky’s voice was so soft and hopeful, T’Challa had to force himself to stay rooted in place. His father had once told him: Enjoy the life of a young prince to the fullest. When you meet the one, you don’t want to ever look back. How right he was. But T’Challa wanted to enjoy his life as a young prince with Bucky. He casually tucked his hands behind his back, and spoke nothing but the truth, “I do. I mean it.”
Bucky exhaled in a shuddering breath, lips twitching into a faint smile. “C’mon. Watch me practice then.”
-x-x-
T’Challa officially met Natasha that afternoon. He watched her converse with Bucky, who hung off the ropes of the boxing ring. After several minutes, Bucky opened his mouth and Natasha slipped in a mouth guard. The redhead then sauntered over to T’Challa, arms crossed over her chest.
“He asked for an offensive match. He usually only does that when he’s showing off.”
Bucky only proved her point when he waved in their direction, grinning wide around his mouth guard.
“Your tactics may work on the other students,” T’Challa began after Bucky turned away. He glanced at the petite teen by his side. “But they won’t on me. I also have people to make sure you don’t act on your threats.” He watched her gaze shift left then right, taking in his bodyguards’ sudden appearances. Those emerald eyes were soon fixed on him, along with a dangerous smile.
“I like you, prince.” There was an underlying message of let’s keep it that way—don’t do anything stupid.
One down.