Make My Voice Brand New [COMPLETED]

When I Get Home, You're So Dead

Bucky stands dead still as he stares at Peter, whose mouth is blubbering open and shut like a fish out of water. Peter's body was being crumbled by shoots of anxiety ripping through his veins, his fingers going numb from gripping the door handle so hard. His brain was short-circuiting. What the hell was he supposed to say? What was Bucky going to do to him?

Bucky steps forward suddenly and Peter yelped and jumped back. Bucky didn't stop walking, a look of murder on his face, as he forced Peter further into the room until his legs hit the bed and he ungracefully fell down onto it.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Parker."

Peter swallowed, painfully, seeing as his mouth had apparently sucked out all moisture. He tried to speak.

"M-Mr Barnes, I...I..." His voice came out broken and hoarse, when suddenly Bucky's hand gripped the front of his T shirt, and Bucky's face leaned in closer to his own.

"What. Did. You. Do." Bucky punched out each word, each syllable, and Peter felt his entire body go cold. This was definitely how he was going to die.

"I-I'm sorry, sir I-" A thump came from next to him. Bucky had punched the bed, and despite the soft mattress, the action rippled through and Peter felt his body sway from the impact.

"Don't call me sir. Just answer the god damn question." Bucky's teeth were gritted, and Peter noticed a pinkish flush on his neck. If Bucky was a mortal human, he would definitely be bright red from the anger.

"Sorry, I..." Peter paused, trying to muddle through his adrenaline fired brain to come up with a coherent sentence. Bucky growled and tightened his grip on his shirt. "I told her we were finished." Peter squeaked out, screwing his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable punch he so rightly deserved.

But Bucky's grip loosened, then Peter couldn't feel his hand at all.

Peter opened his eyes, and lowered his hands (which had apparently come up in a feeble attempt to defend his face). Bucky was standing tall in front of him, his arms folded over his chest.

"Why?" Bucky asked, his voice still laced with anger.

"What do you mean why?"

"I mean, why, Parker. After I helped you get with her in the first place, I come to find not even a month later that you fucked her off?!" His arms had dropped, and his voice grew louder as he spoke. "What, is she suddenly not good enough? Not what you expected? You spent all this time falling over her to fucking throw it away?!"

Peter stood up then, the fear in his body replaced with fury.

"Me? ME throw it away? There was no fucking hope! Never was! People led me on to believe it would work just to flip and smack me in the face with the truth!"

Bucky looked at him like he was crazy, but now Peter was fired up, so he kept going.

"Mr Stark yelled at me, she had to sneak around to spend time with me - and I don't even know why anymore because I was obviously a plaything until she could spend more time with you!"

Bucky stepped back, as if Peter had slapped him. He ran his hand over his face, blinking. Breathing.

"You....you ended things because you think she's with me?" Bucky asked, his voice a bit softer, a stark contrast to the enraged shouting that had just come from Peter.

"I don't think." Peter stepped into Bucky's space, pointing a (shaky) finger at his large chest. "I saw it. Every damn day I saw you and her galavanting around the compound. At first I thought fine, you're friends, whatever. But it was every day, and you-you're way too close and your hands are on each other WAY too much, a-and Mr Stark? Mr Stark never set alarms to keep you separated." Peter held his arms wide. "Who would choose me over you?"