Stucky Oneshots

3: Social Anxiety sucks (a guide by Bucky Barnes)

Au: highschool. Social anxiety Bucky.

Warnings: a LOT of cursing.

Words: 733 (including the AN's and warning panels.)

*****

Keep calm. Keep going. Everything's fine, no-one's watching. That's a lie. Everyone's watching. Oh shit. He's hot. Don't look. Eyes to the ground, Barnes. Don't loo- he's looking. He's looking my way. Shit. Fuck. Nope.

Bucky slowly made his way from the front, to the back of the class. Being new was his worst nightmare. Or maybe not. No. His worst nightmare was being new, being stared and whispered at and having everyone find him weird. Nightmare came true. Well shit. He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, glancing sideways. Noooope. Don't, Barnes. Don't look. He's still looking. Why is he looking? Stop looking. Stop looking. Stop looking. Doesn't help. He's still staring.

Then the blonde guy moved, he moved. Or rather, his hand moved, pulling the seat beside him back and petting the empty spot on it. Invitation? For real? Not a prank? No? Bucky slowly sat down, spying the class. He was so afraid that the blonde hadn't meant it for him and that any moment another bulky guy could tap on his shoulder and tell him to move. But no bulky guy appeared. And no-one tapped his shoulder and told him to move. So he slowly relaxed, sinking back into the seat for as far as that was possible since it was a wooden chair and it kind of hurt his back.

Then he slowly turned to look at his savoir, watching him suspiciously. Did he want something? No that's bullshit Barnes. Stop being so paranoid all the time. Wait. He opened his mouth, he opened it! Was he going to talk? No, don't ask me anything. Don't. Please. Plea-

"You're new here." Panic overload. Shit. Barnes, concentrate, it's just a question. No, it's not even a question. It's a statement. So he didn't have to answer. Calm down.

He kept silent. This seemed to confuse the blonde but he really didn't care. He kept his eyes focused on the table, taking deep breaths. 1, 2. 1, 2. The blonde spoke again.

"My name is Rogers, Steve Rogers." He introduced himself formally. Too formally. No, no, no. He couldn't do this. Barnes. Don't cry. Get your shit together man. He kept silent again

"What is your name?" The stranger now asked. A question. He had to answer. How to answer? Don't turn red. Too late. Shit. "I-it's.. it's Bucky" no. Not formal enough. Correction. "Barnes, Bucky Barnes."

Steve smiled "hi there." He answered, as if he was talking to a kid. He wasn't a kid. Don't act like a kid. Barnes. Don't.

"H-hi" he stuttered, feeling the blood rush to his face, feeling it heaten up with shame.

"You don't have to be so nervous," Steve laughed a little "I don't bite."

"Oh." Bucky answered, nothing more nothing less. Just oh. Just oh... no.. that didn't sound nice. "I know.. I guess- well, I don't really- really know you but.. I guess you don't... bite."

That wasn't any better.

Steve laughed. He laughing at me. I fucked up. Shit. No. I don't wanna fuck up. No. Nope.

"I mean- I'm sorry" he quickly apolegized.

"No need to be, Bucky." How he spoke the name. How he spoke it. Sounded like magic. Like water rolling off the hills, like air brushing- what was he doing.

"Eh.. yeah- I.. thanks..." his heartbeat speeded up, and so did his breathing. He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles getting white.

"Woah- are you okay?" Steve asked, leaning in. No. No I'm not I- shit. Don't lean in. Don't get closer. Don't touch me. Don't.

Steve frowned "do you want some water?" He offered, hand already slipping to his bag.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Take deep breaths. Calm down. "No."

Steve, who was searching through his bag, looked up "oh" he said, mimicking Bucky's words from earlier. "Okay." He turned to look at the teacher again, obviously wanting to give Bucky privacy but the sideways glances betrayed how curious and worried he was.

Bucky closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the black hole he created in his concious. A save place. No voices. No people. Then he opened his eyes again, letting go of the table and leaning back.

He could do this.

*****

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