Boys like Boys|| Peter Parker

.2.

Blood pooled around the body. She had died gruesomely. For five minutes, when she was still alive, no one moved. Then, the light left her eyes and her body went limp. There was something familiar about the skin tight black suit and the various weapons she possessed. But the death wasn't the most alarming part, nor was it the knife lodged in her throat.

"How did you—?"

"Don't mention it" In two strides, Oliver was next to the body. His fingers were shaking and his teeth were clenched. Bucky noticed everything, the way the boy's blinking increased, the way his lips parted slightly and even the slight glossiness to his eyes.

Oliver reached out slowly, with two fingers, he closed the dead girl's eyes and reached past her to the gun which had skittered across the floor. He was debating taking out the knife from the body, it was a throwing knife, straight from his old home, a sleek black finish and a nice grip. But it felt wrong. He withdrew his fingers. 

Oliver put the safety of the gun back on and pocketed the it. He rose to his feet, taking a few seconds to himself before turning to face the older man.

"We need to get out of here"

He spoke with a newfound urgency, eyes darting across the apartment, searching for more possible enemies. 

"You still haven't told me anything" Bucky crossed his arms.

"Look, Booky or whatever, I don't owe you an explanation. All you need to know is that she and who knows how many more women are after me. It was her or me." The more the boy spoke, the more it felt like he was justifying the murder. "They'll be here soon. We need to leave" Oliver took his backpack from off the floor and slung it on.

There were a thousand things running through Bucky's mind. Who was this boy? Why did he have one of the most dangerous organizations in the world tracking him? Was he dangerous? Why did he call him Booky? But most importantly... How did he curve the knife through the air without touching it?

"You're from the red room" That's what he decided to say at last. "And what's stopping me from keeping you here till they can come get you?"

"I thought the Winter soldier wouldn't want to advertise himself... after all, we both know how close Dreykov and HYDRA are..." Oliver wanted to say more, but he stopped himself and just let his words hang in the air. It was a threat, a threat that would make sure Bucky didn't do anything to help Dreykov get Oliver back. They both had something to lose if the man really did wait for the widows.

Then again, there was the question of how the boy knew he was the Winter Soldier. His expression didn't falter, but Oliver smirked, happy that he finally had something on the older man.

"What? Don't be so surprised. It wasn't that hard to figure out." Oliver glanced across the room. He was engaged in a conversation, but he didn't want to be sloppy again. He looked out the window, nothing much except a dreary sort of grey mist and a wet atmosphere. There were a few people on the streets, but all of them civilians. "Metal arm, HYDRA style of fighting, bruises around your forehead indicate time in the wacko machine that wipes your memory and not to mention we've met before"

Bucky swallowed, as if still debating whether to trust the boy or not. "You claim to be from the red room. Didn't think they took boys"

"They don't" Oliver's tone was pretty even, but now it seemed a little more bitter. He curled his hands into fists and looked out of the window again. "They also didn't know I was a guy until they activated the chip in my face" Oliver spoke with such malice and hatred that it was hard for Bucky to comprehend that he was still fourteen. He shouldn't be worrying about killers and psycho assassins. "Fucking mind reading chips" he muttered.