Not Another Teen Fic...

Chapter Two

Bucky

To say he had a headache would be a gross understatement for something which made his skull feel like it was being ripped in two. He was either ill or needed coffee and he prayed it was the second. He had a family to take care of, after all, and school really didn't help. Warm, burning albeit cheap, weak coffee made him smile slightly. It was about the only warm thing in this drafty, old house. Dad's money obviously went towards the 'pleasant' stench of alcohol while his barely covered food and school.

A few minutes later he had successfully herded his younger siblings out the house when he is pulled back.
" Подожди, ты лучше не поздно снова , Джеймс (Wait, you better not be late again, James)." His father rambles out, gripping on the blue collar of the boy's shirt. His father's side of the family was from Russia and he insisted that his children learn it alongside English so he could talk to them easier.
"Да папа. Я обещаю, что это не случится снова. (Yes Papa. I promise it will not happen again.)" The brunet mumbles, pulling away from his already intoxicated father and fixing his pink and blue shirt.

He ignored the disapproving glare from his father and walked out the house. This was only to be ambushed and tackled to the ground by a streak of red and black. He felt a soft laugh escape him as the rest of the air was knocked clean out.
"Wade..." He smiles up at the other boy who seemed to have made himself right at home on Bucky's gently rising chest.
"Who else?" The other gave his signature but rare, infections laugh.
"Wade..." He boys voice was now laced with mock anger. "I'm wearing pink, get off now. It's going to be so fucking dirty."
"Well maybe that was my intention, besides you know you love me really. " Wade responds, adjusting his dirty blonde hair with a confident smirk.
"Well..." He couldn't really argue with Wade one of his truest friends. "I'd love you more if you shifted."
"Never!" Wade laughs changing the position of his legs and wrapping them around him.

"James? The bloody fuck are you doing?" A voice asks, mortified, from beside them. The boy groans and hits his own head against the floor. "Adam, go to school." He mutters realising how this must look. After all, he was practically being straddled by one of his friends and of course his younger brother just so happened to be right there and hear all of it. Of fucking course!
"Never, be happier to do that. You got it Buck." Wade mumbles quickly and practically jumps off the other.
He gets to his feet and dusts off his shirt. Hopefully most of the dirt had fallen off, it would stick out like a sore thumb on pink and turquoise.
"I'm gonna tell Dad." Adam threatens. There was about six years between him and Bucky and you could definitely tell.
"Adam. Go. To. School." The older boy sighs before wrapping his right arm around Wade's shoulders and tugging him along.

They could see the school up ahead. A warm glimmering beacon of hope and prosperity. The boy smiled. That must have been the biggest lie of the day. The school was an over graffitied, falling to pieces, pile of shit and that was coming from the person who's room is missing most of the right wall but his dad somehow hasn't noticed.
"Oh shit." Wade mumbles practically the moment they were through the school gates.
Before he had even had time to process and worry over which homework assignment or test he had forgotten, Wade had grabbed the back of his shirt and began rubbing it.
"Wade? What are you doing?" He manages, quickly tugging at the front of his shirt but not before Wade had somehow moved it half way up his chest.
"It was dirty." Wade explains before letting it go and frowning slightly when he sees it. "Now it's dusty, ripped at the collar and 1/2 a size to big for you."
"It was ripped at the collar before." He manages weakly. He was blushing like crazy and trying to ignore the odd looks from the other people in the school grounds and completely covering his face when someone began cat calling.

He hurries inside not bothering to wait for Wade who instinctively knows to follow him.
"Look, James I'm sorry." Wade says honestly as they reach a large set of tables in an open classroom.
"It's not your fault, but did you have to do it when they were there." He mutters his cheeks still bright red. Peter Quill, who was already sat down and resting his legs on the table, swings them off it. "What's all this about Wade being sorry?" Peter asks leaning forward on his legs. Wade was a nice friend but for him to apologise, this rarely happened.
"Well it's very simple." Rocket, their smaller friend responds as he sits on the corner of the table. "Wade almost entirely removed Bucky's shirt in front of most of the school. Including Natasha."
"I am Groot." The tallest person possibly in the whole school responds sadly as he takes his seat just behind Rocket.
Rocket snaps his fingers. His soft brown, bordering on black eyes, which had been harshened by seemingly endless loops of eyeliner around them, widened. "... And Brock." Peter runs his hand though his blonde hair and bites the inside of his lip. "Hate to say it, but you're pretty fucked."
"Don't remind me." He mumbles flopping on one of the chairs. "Maybe they didn't notice.." He knew that was a lie. Brock had been the one cat calling. Wade kneels down. He sighs and hugs Wade. He wasn't mad at Wade, it would take a lot more than that to make him mad at Wade.

The school fills up. He notices Brock and quickly looks down. Maybe he won't say anything. Wade's friendly grip around the others shoulders loosens as Francis and Brock walk over. The table which had been filled with the ecstatic buzz of conversation went deathly silent.
"James?" Brock asks coming to a complete stop just in front of them.
"Yes?" About three different voices replied on the table but out of all of them his was definitely the most quiet. Brock rolls his eyes and tilts Bucky's head up to face him. The entire group practically grimaces the second Brock's fingers are anywhere near Bucky's face.
"That was a very enjoyable show you put on out there. So what's it gonna take to get me a private one?" Brock asks with a sickening grin. In fact just the words alone made him sick to his stomach and worried beyond belief. The rest of the group exchanged a look. One which basically read. 'Sod off! You bloody creep! and Don't touch him!' all at once. But it wasn't until Dugan stepped In that someone vocalised those thoughts.
"Hey, want to leave him alone?" Dugan had been held back a few years so while Brock might scare maybe Bucky and the group Dugan wasn't so easily swayed. Brock looks at Dugan, confused, not used to being responded to like that. However, Brock takes a step back. He wasn't looking for a fight right now.
"I'll ask when your guard dogs aren't here then, eh?"

His breathing goes back to normal once Brock had leant against the opposite wall and calmed further when he ran off after someone he knew to be called Sharon. He almost felt sympathy for the girl, she was in for some hell. He may or may not have personal experience there.
"Thanks Dugan." He smiles slightly at the group. Dugan nodded and sat down. Wade was being uncharacteristically quiet and he had grown concerned.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asks Wade as they walk to technology together. Unfortunately, Wade only has a few classes with him, so they had to make the best of that they had.
"Oh nothing, just Francis, oh sorry. 'Ajax'. " Wade mutters angrily. "Does he actually have no sympathy? I'm just annoyed that I ever liked him."
"Yeah.." Bucky mumbled. "I know how you feel." He paused, dragging himself out of darker thoughts. "We'll get through it."
"We always do, don't we?" Wade sighs lightly with a light smile. He just nods. It was true though, him and Wade were like family and that meant he would protect Wade with everything. However, things never seemed to go right in his family. His actual siblings mostly hated or didn't talk to him and the people he once considered family got hurt and pretended he just wasn't there. He couldn't bring himself to look at them now. What did he do to drive them away? One thing was for sure: it was his fault. After all, what wasn't in this blasted town?