Another Cliché Love Story // S. Rogers & B. Barnes

six

Bucky

As soon as the credits started rolling after the third movie ended, Bucky's mind was flooded with the afternoon's happenings. He sighed and glanced at Tasha, noticing she was asleep. His lips quirked up in a smile at her sleeping frame, glad that she could get some sleep after taking care of him.

Bucky swung his legs off the bed and grimaced down at himself, remembering he was still in his gym uniform from yesterday's last period. He felt–and smelled–absolutely horrible. He decided he needed a shower, and now.

He pushed himself off the bed and made his way to his attached closet, grabbing a random pair of sweatpants from the ground and boxers from the dresser. He glanced once more at Tasha, making sure she was still asleep, before slipping out of the room and heading to the bathroom.

Steve's face popped into his head as soon as he let out a breath, and Bucky groaned softly, pushing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. He attempted to force that cursed boy out of his mind as he stumbled to the bathroom, but it didn't work. Even once the light was turned on and Bucky had shaken his head more than once, he could still clearly see Steve's angelic face behind his eyelids and standing next to him.

Bucky gritted his teeth and ripped off his shirt, throwing it at the mirror where the image of Steve was standing behind him. He gasped when the mirror shook, threatening to come off the wall, and surged forward, placing his hands on the glass to steady it.

Being so close to his reflection, Bucky couldn't help but let his eyes fall down to his scarred chest and abdomen. His gaze darkened as he remembered how he got one of his most recent scars–he'd talked back to his mother, and his father had punished him for it, by means of his favorite pocket knife.

Bucky could still feel the sting of the blade sliding against his skin.

He blew out a breath and shook his head again, trying to cast away those thoughts. He turned towards the shower and turned it on, letting the steam from the hot water cloud the mirror and his stupid reflection.

Bucky stepped out of his gym shorts and boxers and into the shower, instantly relaxing under the hot water. He closed his eyes and brought his arms up, running his hands through his hair to get it wet. He felt all the sweat and grime wash off of him under the stream of pelting water, and for the first time that week, he felt a little better about his situation.

He'd created a list of things he could do to get Steve out of his head for good: move far, far away; switch classes; ignore him completely; or die.

He was leaning towards the first one mostly, and actually considered packing up and putting this town behind him for good, but then he thought about Tasha and all his friends and how hurt they would be if he just left. So that one was out of the picture.

Bucky sighed and turned off the water. He stood in the shower for a few moments longer, going over his options. He finally decided to try and ignore Steve as much as possible until the end of the school year, and hopefully his crush would go away based on the little to no interaction they would have.

He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack, drying himself off and wrapping it around his waist. He ignored the mirror on his way out, flipping the light off and opening the door to let out all the steam. Bucky sighed again, ran a hand through his damp hair, and tossed his dirty uniform in the dirty hamper he and Tasha shared.

He made a mental note to wash it before tomorrow, when he would go back–there was no way he was showing his face at school today, not with the possibility of Steve seeing him after yesterday's fiasco.

Bucky headed downstairs, keeping his footsteps light so as to not wake up his roommate. He made his way into the kitchen, noticing it was around 5 in the morning. He went straight for the fridge, finally noticing his empty stomach. He grabbed the first thing he saw–which just so happened to be a fat red apple–and dug his teeth into it. He leaned back against the counter, basking in the darkness and silence.

A small 'ping' brought him out of his trance and he paused mid-bite, his eyes darting over to see Tasha's computer turn on. He squinted at it, seeing many articles stacked on top of each other.

Bucky shrugged, leaning back again. He took another bite of the apple, enjoying the sweetness of the fruit.

For once, he wasn't thinking about Steve. All was calm with the world, all was right.

That is, until the computer dinged again, and again, and again.

Frustrated and fed up, Bucky dropped the apple onto the counter and sped over to the computer, dusting his hands off on his sweatpants. He narrowed his eyes at the device as he plopped in the chair, glaring at the notifications popping up every second.

He finally found them underneath all the articles, and his slitted eyes grew wide when he opened an Instagram chat between Tasha and...ir0n_man.

Who's...oh my gods.

Bucky tossed his head back and laughed loudly, not caring if his best friend was sleeping anymore.

"Tasha! Get down here!" He laughed harder, closing out of the tab, not wanting to invade her privacy. He turned, about to yell at her groaning response, but his eyes caught one of the titles of the articles Tasha was reading.

When Stress Levels Increase: A Diagnosis For Teenagers

His eyebrows furrowed, and he slowly turned back to the computer.

Does Tasha think I'm...stressed?

Bucky clicked on the maximize button and the article filled the screen. He started skimming, his hand coming up to rub his chin in concentration.

Is this why I've been so sick?

He caught things like 'increased stress can cause many headaches and migraines, as well as pain throughout the back of the neck and shoulders' and 'in some severe cases, stress has even been the identifiable cause of hallucinations.' Bucky's eyes went wide.

Shit.

He kept reading.

'Stress levels can be increased because of a number of reasons: overdue bills/assignments, something occurring with a family member or friend such as a sickness, death, or issue within the relationship, and even–in rare circumstances–built up nerves or feelings of attraction for a person.'

Bucky choked on his spit as he read, shaking his head. "That's...not possible," he laughed bitterly, though even he didn't believe himself. He closed that tab and read the next one.

'...unrequited feelings and worry about those feelings...'

And the next.

'...sexual attraction paired with jealousy or severe feelings...'

'...exposure to one person who can occupy one's mind all the time, causing them to begin to ignore all other thoughts...'

Bucky coughed violently, reeling in the chair. He was breathing heavily as he quickly closed all of the tabs.

Footsteps on the stairs brought his attention to Tasha, who noticed he was sitting at the computer and winced. She sighed before making her way to him, resting a hand on his bare shoulder.

"Bucky...I think–" She was suddenly cut off by the doorbell ringing, and a look of realization came onto her face. She sighed again and handed Bucky a shirt she'd had gripped in her hands. She gave him a 'we'll talk later' look before going to the door, unlocking it, and letting the morning light stream into the room.

"What are you doing here?"