Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6608776.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Thor_(Movies), The_Avengers_(Marvel_Movies), X-Men_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Darcy_Lewis, Darcy_Lewis/Steve_Rogers
  Character:
      Darcy_Lewis, Steve_Rogers, James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Jane_Foster_(Marvel),
      Natasha_Romanov, (mentioned), Clint_Barton, Phil_Coulson, Nick_Fury,
      Jemma_Simmons, Helen_Cho, Tony_Stark, Bruce_Banner
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_X-Men_Fusion, High_School, Teenagers, Mutants,
      Angst, Smut
  Series:
      Part 4 of Darcy_Lewis_Crossover_Bingo_2016
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-20 Chapters: 3/? Words: 13853
****** You Were the One (That Got Away) ******
by Bulmaveg_Otaku
Summary
     (Expanded X-Men Fusion/Crossover that I started for Darcy Lewis
     Crossover Bingo and continued for Miin (awwheartno). Tagged UNDERAGE
     because Darcy and Steve haven't quite turned 18 yet this starts in
     March/April her birthday is June and his is July)
     Darcy has a long standing crush on Steve, but he never seemed
     interested. Steve has always liked Darcy, but the timing never seemed
     right and now she's getting ready to leave for college, as soon as
     graduation is over. Bucky's interested in Darcy, has been for a
     while, but never acted on it because he knew she and Steve liked each
     other.
     Growing up and getting older means making all the hard decision and
     realizing that your actions can have far reaching, and sometimes
     devastating, consequences. When things go badly wrong with the people
     you care about is it better to let them go or will they be willing to
     do what it takes to make things right?
Notes
     Okay, guts, I seriously broke all my rules on this one. No High
     School AU's? Just kidding! No angsty love triangles? Yeah, right!
     This is going to get worse before it gets better, guys, by which I
     mean you can expect people to screw up, say awful things, and make
     bad decisions. The first few parts will be dealing with these three
     crazy kids pre-graduation. Bucky is 18, but Darcy and Steve are still
     17 to start off. This fic will deal with mature themes, like cheating
     and betrayal, teenage drinking and promiscuity, and hate groups and
     anti-mutant prejudice as well as a few others.
     I realize these aren't for everyone, but rest assured this will
     eventually shift to adults and there will be a happy-ending. Mostly
     happy ending? I won't leave you abandoned and in total despair and
     misery, how about that?
     Title and all chapter titles come from Katy Perry songs. I guess she
     just speaks to the angsty teenager inside of me.
***** The Way You Turn Me On (I Can’t Sleep) *****
Steve heard a grunt coming from a place where there shouldn’t be a grunt, or a
person to make a grunt for that matter. He rolled out of bed and slid over to
the window to peak behind the curtains.
 
“What is it, Steve?” Bucky asked from the other side of the room, turning over
in his bed and cracking an eye open.
 
“Heard somethin’,” Steve murmured, pulling the curtain away from the wall
another inch.
 
“Hey! Rogers! Let me in already! Open up!” The voice was recognizable, despite
being distorted by a harsh whisper.
 
“Lewis?” He flung the fabric to the side and started working on opening the
window. They were three stories up. “How are you…?”
 
“Jane’s got me in a 0 G bubble, but I don’t know if she can hold it forever.
You wanna find out?”
 
“No,” he scowled and reached out to grab her wrists and tug her inside. Once
she was over the seal she dropped to the carpet with a soft thump and Steve
stuck his head out the open window to see Jane on the ground in the courtyard
below. She waved excitedly and he gave a hesitant reply. “Why are you and
Foster breaking curfew to use her powers against the rules and breaking into
the boy’s dorm, where you aren’t supposed to be?” Steve asked, putting his
hands on his hips and giving Darcy his best disappointed face.
 
She grinned wickedly as she popped to her feet and brushed her hands off on her
pants. “Jane and I managed to pilfer a bottle of Professor Romanov’s vodka.
We’re gonna sneak down to the boiler room and get wasted. You should come with
us.”
 
Steve just stared at her, mouth stuck open. “How did you managed to steal from-
No, you know what? I don’t want to know. You know it’s only a matter of time
before she catches you, if it wasn’t all a trap to begin with. And sneaking
down to the boiler room? You know our principle is a mind reader, right?”
 
Darcy punched his shoulder. “Lighten up, Rogers. We already told Stark and
Banner to meet us down there. Stark is gonna do his eye in the sky bit and keep
a look out, and  Bruce has all the tunnels and secret passageways mapped out so
we can escape if anyone comes looking for us. It’ll be fun!”
 
“You’ll escape to where exactly? It’s not like you can just run forever,” he
countered knowing this was just another one of Lewis’ half-baked schemes.
 
“Details, shmetails,” she groaned. “You’re missing the point, Steve-o. You’re
always so uptight. You need to get out and live a little,” she whined, leaning
against him and gripping his t-shirt while she looked up and batted her eyes at
him, which only partially distracted him from the view down her top. Was that a
red-bra? Or black? No, it was red with black lace.
 
Steve stepped back from her and pulled her hands off of his shirt. “This whole
thing is just stupid, Lewis. You just barely got done filling your community
service hours from the last time you got caught breaking the rules. If you were
smart you’d take Jane and go back to your room. Go to bed. We might not have
class tomorrow, but I don’t think you really want to spend all weekend in
detention with a hangover, which is exactly what’s going to happen.”
 
The girl growled in frustration. “Okay, Captain Buzzkill. I didn’t know your
mutation was being a party-popper of epic proportions.” She pouched out her lip
slightly and tried the Bambi eyes again. “Please? Come for me?”
 
He just shook his head. “No thanks, Lewis. I’m good.”
 
She decided to change her tactic. “Fine. I bet Barnes will come with us. Won’t
you, Barnes?”
 
Darcy whirled around to march over to Bucky’s bed and plop down next to his
roommate and best friend, who was leaning up on one elbow and giving the curvy
brunette an amused grin.
 
“You up for a little party, Bucky? Wanna have some fun with a couple of
gorgeous girls and some entertaining weirdos? You’re way more fun than Rogers
here usually?” she wheedled, reaching over to grope Bucky’s bicep, exposed by
his sleep tank.
 
He watched her hand and then smiled up at her, flexing subtly. “Sure, Darce.
I’m not a lame ass, like Steve. You want I should grab a shirt or-?”
 
“Please don’t,” she said winking, then jumped up. “All right, score. You can
help keep the vodka chilled, right? Let’s get a move on then, I don’t want Jane
to get too freaked out and bail on us. Which she might if she hears anything
she thinks might be a rodent of any kind.”
 
She walked over to the window and leaned over to make sure Jane was still there
before calling down that she was almost ready. Steve glared at his friend when
he caught Bucky staring at Darcy’s ass in her short skirt. Bucky had the
decency to look away as he climbed out of bed, looking a little bit guilty.
 
“Okay, Jane, I’m ready!” Darcy yell/whispered as she started climbing out on to
the ledge. “See you at the bottom, Barnes,” she winked and stepped back as she
felt the familiar tingle of 0 G’s crawl over her.
 
Once Darcy was gone, Bucky pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, despite
Darcy’s request and Steve bit his tongue and decided to be grateful for small
favors.
 
“Don’t worry, Steve, I promise to keep my hands off your girl,” Bucky tossed
across the room as he pulled on socks and shoes.
 
Steve scowled harder. “She’s not my girl,” he muttered, sitting back on his bed
and preparing to lie in bed all night and think about his friends out being
stupid and getting in trouble. “Don’t behave on my account.” The sarcasm tasted
like stubborn pride on his tongue.
 
Bucky sighed as he finished tying his vans and stood up. “Don’t be like that,
punk. Just come with us! You’re right, we’ll probably all be hung over and
pulling extra dish duty tomorrow, but I’ll be worth it. I saw the way Lewis was
looking at you. She likes you, man. You should totally jump on that. I know you
like her, too.”
 
Steve just rolled his eyes and climbed under his covers, refusing to even
acknowledge his friends obnoxious, but accurate, accusation.
 
“Fine, you won’t mind if I see if I can get a hand up that tight little sweater
thing she’s wearing then, do you? ‘Cause Lewis’ tits are basically a work of
art. Someone should be trying to show their appreciation and if you aren’t
gonna step up then you don’t mind if I do, right?” Bucky taunted, and Steve
knew he was just looking for a reaction, trying to provoke him into changing
his mind.
 
He forced himself to roll over and pulled the blankets up over his shoulder. “I
don’t care. Do what you want, jerk.”
 
“You really don’t care?” Bucky said, and he sounded just hopeful enough to make
Steve’s chest clench.
 
“I really don’t,” Steve lied. “Just make sure that when you’re caught, you tell
Professor Romanov that I was asleep when you snuck out so I don’t get in
trouble for not reporting you.” He was rather proud of how apathetic he
sounded.
 
“Sure thing, pal,” he heard and then there was some scuffling and rustling as
Bucky climbed out the window.  “Foster! You got me?”
 
“Yeah, Barnes, I got you. Just jump.”
 
Steve laid there; eyes closed shut and tried not to think about Darcy’s mouth
on a long necked bottle, or Bucky’s hand up her shirt, or the way her skirt
showed off her thighs when she bent over. Dr. Cho had told him that his
mutation, accelerated healing and metabolism, meant he probably couldn’t get
drunk anyway.
 
He told himself that’s why he wasn’t going. There was no point. He’d just end
up getting in trouble with the rest of them for no reason. And Darcy… well,
even if Bucky was right, Steve knew it would never work between them. He was an
honor student, just counting the days until graduation so that he could begin
his training with the team. He was going to be an X-Men. And Darcy… well, she
wasn’t a bad student, but her ability, being a human battery and charging
electronics with a touch, wasn’t exactly suited for combat. Besides, he knew
she was looking at college, in Virginia with Jane, if he had heard right.
 
They were only a couple months away from their entire lives changing, and their
paths parting company, probably forever.
 
Steve didn’t need the heartbreak, and he didn’t need the distraction, and he
really didn’t need the extra chores. He’d made the correct decision, done the
right thing.
 
Then why did he feel so shitty?
***** I Can’t Stop (Don’t Care If I Lose) *****
Chapter Notes
     Smut in this one! Participants are 17! If you consider that underage
     then be warned. 17 is the age of consent in New York so I'm calling
     this a grey area. Also, this is not the first time for either of
     them, sooooooo.....
The cold air from the freezer washed over Darcy and she sighed in relief as it
soothed the flushed skin of her face. She was practically standing with her
head in it, the door wide open while she tried to take a breath, settle her
scattered, chaotic thoughts and calm her frantic heartbeat.
 
This had, by far, been the worst night ever.
 
The scrape on her face felt raw and tight, the arch of her cheekbone and the
tissue between the two was tender and probably turning a lovely shade of blue
and purple. She grabbed a bag of frozen peas and pressed it gingerly to the
injury. She winced as the pain flared sharp and hot at the touch, and then
eased slowly as the cold penetrated deeper and started its numbing work on the
slight swelling.
 
She waited another second and then closed the freezer door, sad to feel the
cold wash vanish. Maybe she could find Barnes. He'd be more than willing to
help her cool-
 
She turned and almost walked right into the tall wall of muscle and self-
righteous fury that was Steve Rogers. She gasped a little in surprise, but
managed to jerk to a halt before impact. "Jesus, Rogers! You about gave me a
heart attack. Warn a girl next time," she snapped, her slowing heart-rate once
again jumping into fight or flight range.
 
She considered giving him a hard time for being in the kitchen after hours, but
the intense anger growing in his eyes as he stared down at her made her words
stall behind her teeth.
 
"What happened?" He asked. Steve's voice was low and deceptively calm, but she
could sense the rubber-band-ready-to-snap rage that boiled beneath it.
 
Darcy stepped back and shifted the bag of peas slightly to make sure everything
was covered evenly. "Nothing. It's just a scratch," she attempted, foolishly,
to shrug it off and hope he would drop it. She tried to step back again, but
felt her ass hit the fridge and came to a halt.
 
Steve reached up and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was pressing peas to
her face, as if it could protect her from his ire. She wanted to fight as he
pulled her hand away, but knew it would be futile. And childish. So she turned
her face to hide the mark against the flat stainless steel behind her, instead.
 
"Darcy," Steve growled, actually growled, in frustration and used his other
hand to turn her face so he could see the damage. "Who did this to you? What
happened?"
 
"It isn't a big deal," Darcy insisted, and she returned his scowl, fire for
fire, but in the end, she knew trying to play who "Who's More Stubborn" with
Steve Rogers was an effort doomed to failure. "Ugh! You really aren't going to
let this go, are you?"
 
He said nothing, but his eyes moved over her cheek and a new wash of feeling
surged in his eyes.
 
"I went into town to the protest. Me and some of the others kids from my
Sociology class. We thought it be a good idea to protest the protesters, you
know, show them there were people who weren’t afraid to stand up against their
message of hatred." Word of the Anti-Mutant Protesters in town had been going
around the school all week and when the official school announcement had been
made to ignore it, she and some of the students hadn't taken it well.
 
"We couldn't just sit back and do nothing!" She declared defensively. "So we
made some signs and snuck down there, but one of the protesters got a
little...testy."
 
"They hit you?" Steve asked, sounding even more furious, which she did not
think was possible.
 
"Threw a rock, actually," she corrected, knowing full well it wouldn't help
things.
 
Steve started like she'd punched him. "They threw- Darcy! You could have been
really hurt! Or worse! What the hell were you thinking!?"
 
Darcy rolled her eyes and tugged out of his grasp, pushing around him. "Save
it, Rogers. I already got read the riot act by Barton and Coulson. Trust me,
I'm feeling plenty chastised at the moment. I was worried they were gonna break
out the cat 'o nine tails for a second." She tried to make her voice light and
dry so it didn't betray how shaken she still felt about the whole thing.
 
He followed her out the door and into the hallway. "Is this some kind of joke
to you?" Steve demanded. "Why can't you take anything seriously?"
 
Darcy whirled on him. "Why do you have to take everything too seriously? I get
it, okay! You're, once again, disappointed with my life choices. Well, I'm
sorry Saint Steven, but not everyone can live their life as perfectly as you."
 
"I am not perfect," he scoffed. "I don't think I'm perfect."
 
"You could have fooled me," Darcy challenged, her voice sharp with rebuke.
"Obviously, you know best, and I'm just some silly little girl that can't take
care of herself."
 
"I-" Steve cut off his reply when he heard the sound of a door opening
somewhere down the hallway. They weren’t really supposed to be there, and they
definitely weren’t supposed to be making so much noise this late in the
evening. It chagrined him that she was looking at him with that smug twinkle in
her eye because she knew how much he didn't want to get caught. 
 
She started to turn, thinking this meant the discussion was over, but Steve
wasn't done. Not by a long shot.
 
He grabbed her arm and pulled her around the corner, opened the door to the
garage, and pushed her in. The garage of the X-Mansion doubled as a shop, and,
as such, was sound proof. No one would find them in here, and he could say what
he needed to say.
 
"What the hell, Steve!" She barked as he closed the door behind himself.
 
"I want you to listen to me for once, Darcy!" He looked over her, stepping
forward and getting into her space until she was backed up against the nearest
vehicle. "Just because I don't want to see you get hurt, just because I don't
like having to sit back and watch you throw yourself into one stupid situation
after another does not mean I think you can't take care of yourself most of the
time, but when you go out and pull reckless stunts like this then, yes, I worry
that you're gonna do something that you won't be able to wiggle your way out
of. You aren't invincible, Darcy. You're going to be seriously in trouble one
of these days if you don't stop acting like nothing can touch you."
 
"You think I think I'm invincible!? Oh, that's fucking rich coming from Mr.
Daredevil here. I've seen you during your training sessions. Some of the stunts
you’ve pulled..."
 
"That's different and you know it. Don't turn this on me, this is about you,"
he said pointing his finger at her chest.
 
Darcy knocked his hand away and pushed against his chest. "How is that any
different? What? It's different because you’re a big strong man with an ability
that makes it okay for him to get hurt? But it's not okay for me, right?
Because I’m some helpless brat with a worthless power," she yelled pushing
against him a second time, though it hardly budged him.
 
"That's not..." He threw his hands up in the air as his frustration with her
stupid refusal to see reason, her uncanny ability to make him sound like the
bad guy just because he thought she should be more careful. "Yes!" Steve yelled
back. "It is different! Okay?! Is that what you want to hear!? I can take the
hits. You can't!"
 
"I knew it!" She shrieked at him, hitting his shoulder. "You plan on being a
hero, joining the god damned X-men in their fucking spandex tights and you
think that makes you the only one capable of making an difference. So, what?
I'm just supposed to sit back and do nothing? Just wait at home like a good
little woman while you run off and save the world with all your muscles and
your fucking healing factor!"
 
She hit him three more times while she shouted at him her tiny little fists
barely registering but her words hitting every target and soft spot.
 
"Well, I won't do it! I may not be able to do what you do, but I have just as
much right stand up and fight back as you do, asshole! If picketing anti-mutant
douche bags is what I can do, they you bet your ass I’m going to do it! I don't
care what they throw at me!" She finished, stepping back, her chest heaving and
her cheeks burning with her exertion and emotion.
 
"Dammit, Darcy!" Steve cursed back, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back
against the car again. "Don't you get it? I can be shot, or stabbed, or thrown
through a wall, and I can walk away from that, but you..." he choked on his
emotion. Staring down at her wide blue eyes, determined and passionate, he knew
he was wasting his breath. She was fragile, it was true, but she was also so
strong and brave and she knew exactly what she wanted and she always went after
it until she got it. It was part of what he lo-liked about her so much. "If
something happened to you..." He felt panic crawling its way up his spine.
 
She was never going to change, she was always going to be the reckless, head
strong woman charging into every bad situation she came across, regardless of
whether she was the best person to help or not. She was always going to be in
the thick of things, and he wouldn't always be there to protect her. It was
only a matter of time before Darcy Lewis got into a fight she couldn't win. She
would lose, and he would lose her.
 
Steve's face was a window right into every thought and emotion he was having,
and Darcy watched it all. He thought she was a liability. Sure, he cared about
her, but not as an equal, just as some weak thing to be protected, some pretty,
useless bobble to be locked away, safe and sound.
 
She hated it, hated how he made her feel.
 
"I won't be able to get over that. If you get yourself killed I'll..."
 
She needed him to stop talking, couldn't stand to hear another word. If he
finished his thought she was going to start to hate Steve Rogers, and she
didn't want to do that. She never wanted to do that, because when he wasn't
being an elitist Neanderthal he was kind and good and honest and sweet.
 
Darcy curled her fingers into his t-shirt and tugged him down to her. Lifting
her face, she pressed her lips against his, hard and clumsy and desperate.
Anything to shut him up.
 
He gasped in surprise and she slipped her tongue between his lips, tilting her
head to fit them together better. She brushed the roof of his mouth and he
moaned helplessly, his hands on her shoulders moving up to tangle in her hair
and tip her head back farther. His need to enforce his will on her translated
into a fierce determination to dominate her.
 
Steve took over the kiss, his tongue working back against hers, sliding hot and
firm against hers, tasting and claiming. He kissed like he fought, all out, no
holds barred, determined to conquer. Darcy fought back, challenged his
domination at every turn, using every ounce of skill at her disposal to bend
him to her will, bring him to his knees.
 
He pinned her against the side of the car, his body leaning into hers, his
knees bending to crowd more of his bulk against her shorter frame. He dragged
one hand from her hair and gripped her hip, her curves feeling so soft and
perfect in his hand. All the rage at the people who had hurt her, all his
frustrated need to protect her lingered, but now it was overshadowed by his
want. She was his bright burning Darcy and her dangerous dreams and bigger-
than-life goals, her mischievous spirit and fun loving ways, all packed into
her voluptuous body, brilliant eyes and lush, kissable lips overpowered his
good sense.
 
He could feel her breasts press to his chest when she slid her arms around his
neck and into his hair, her back arching to get them just so. All that soft
warmth and her wicked tongue, swirling against his own coaxing him into her
mouth so that she could suck and... Fuck, he was harder than he'd ever been in
his whole life. There was no way she couldn't feel it, pressed between them
like he was.
 
Darcy rocked her hips just right and he pulled his face away, gasping and
wrestling for control. He had to find some damn control. This was his friend
Darcy, the one he'd sworn he wouldn’t touch, the one who would graduate with
him in a couple weeks and then go off to Culver with Jane. This was a bad idea.
He couldn't...
 
"Darcy," he started, but she wasn't having it.
 
"Shut the fuck up, Rogers," she commanded, and then pressed her mouth back to
his, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down.
 
It sort of hurt, but it also sent a bolt of need right down to his dick. She
lifted one thigh, curling around his hips and bringing her heat closer to him
and he was lost again. She felt too good. She was making him feel too good. His
blood was already pumping from their fight, his emotions hot and reason had
fled long before she'd even touched him.
 
Steve lifted her other leg up as well, holding tight to the backs of her thighs
and grinding himself hard against her center as he sought some way to alleviate
the overwhelming desire to be closer to her, against her, inside her.
 
He should fight it, he knew, he should be stronger than his lust for her, but
he just...wasn't.
 
Burying his face against her neck he humped against her, moaning and breathing
in her scent and her taste as his mouth found her skin, drowning in the feel of
her.
 
Darcy was making breathy, needy little sounds against his ear, her fingers
dragging, demanding, on his scalp, and neck, and shoulder. She flexed and
arched and moved with him, and he wondered how it was even possible he hadn't
burned away to ash and cinder already.
 
His legs were starting to shake, his whole body quivering with tension and he
had a thought to be careful with her, gentle, but then she clamped her mouth
down on the tendon in his neck and sucked and he forgot about careful and
gentle.  He gripped her tightly and turned them, seeking a place to lay her so
that he could focus on more than staying on his feet. He wanted to test the
weight of her breasts with his hands, her glorious, full breasts. He wanted to
find out what color her underwear was. He'd spent a wildly inappropriate number
of hours speculating on the color and cut of her panties, and now he wanted to
finally see, damn it!
 
There was a large table towards one corner of the shop area where students
could draft plans or look at schematics. Steve dropped Darcy's ass onto the top
of it and moved his hands up to push under the hem of her shirt. She pulled her
mouth away from his neck long enough to rip her shirt off over her head and
then went back to seeing how many hickies she could give him before they
started to fade.
 
Steve was torn. What she was doing hurt so good, her mouth on him a sharp slice
of heaven, but he also wanted to push her away so he could see her. He settled
for tracing her form with his hands, using the method of the blind to fix her
shape in his mind.
 
He caressed her back, gripped the swell of her hips, and cupped her waist, his
thumbs counting each solid ridge made by her ribs as he moved his hands higher.
When they hit the hard curve of her underwire he couldn't wait any longer.
 
Pulling back, he nearly smirked at the complaining whimper that Darcy made, but
quickly became distracted by the lust glazed look on her face, her swollen
lips, cherry red and puffy, her eyes half lidded and pupils blown. He followed
the pale line of her throat down, past the curve of her clavicle, and lower, to
the shadowed dip of her cleavage. The creamy white satin of her bra molding to
the generous bounty of her tits and giving him tiny fits of jealousy.
 
He dived in, kissing the upper swell of one breast before moving to the other.
Her hands were in his hair again, pulling his face tighter to her chest until
his kisses grew hard and needy. He nipped at one satin-covered nipple and she
whined high and loud. Then the silkily fabric was bunching around his face and
he realized she'd undone the clasp with one hand.
 
The straps dropped over her shoulders and slid it the bend of her elbows. He
grabbed the front of it and jerked roughly, letting her bra fall to the floor,
once it was untangled from her limbs. Steve had his hands and mouth on her
instantly, starving for her.
 
"Steve..." Darcy moaned and pulled her nails over the back of his neck as he
sucked hard and desperate on one nipple. "Oh god, please..."
 
She tugged on his t-shirt and he released her to strip it off in a rush of
movement. It became a battle then, both of them trying to touch and feel and
put their mouths on the other. He settled for mouthing at the top of her
shoulder while she nipped and licked along his pecs. Then it was her turn to
submit while he pressed her breasts together and buried his face between them,
leaning back with her hands braced on the table behind her. Darcy wrapped her
legs tight around his waist again and pulled him to her, getting him to rub
right up against her.
 
It seemed impossible that he'd forgotten how much he needed to be there, needed
to press into that place, but it had been overshadowed by his want of the rest
of her. That need came roaring back, front and center once again, as she rocked
against him, making sounds he'd only dreamed about at night.
 
Gripping the waistband of her leggings he pushed his hands inside, shoving them
over her hips until they caught between her ass and the table. He happened to
glance up at her face then, and caught sight of the bruised scrap on her right
cheek.
 
He had a sudden moment of crystal sharp clarity and froze.
 
Sensing the sudden tension in his body Darcy hesitated, one hand coming up to
brush back a strand of hair from her face as she tried to catch her breath
while she studied him. She was so beautiful. She always had been, but now...
 
Darcy was breathtaking and he had his hands on her ass, ready to strip her of
her bottoms so that he could...
 
He stood on the edge of precipice, a decision to make.
 
Should he do this?
 
Should he let this happen? God, he wanted her so badly, but he could feel the
regret building in the back of his mind. If he went through with it, if he...if
he fucked Darcy here, right now, on the table in the garage of the mansion, he
knew that regret would follow him forever.
 
The question was this: Would it be worse than the regret he'd feel if he
stopped, if he gave up the chance to be with the girl that he...she was the
girl he had wanted almost more than he could stand for so long.
 
Steve could tell by the way his pause had made her face go blank that she would
be so angry with him if he stopped now, even more angry that she'd been before,
perhaps. Maybe angry enough to never speak to him again.
 
That might be the worst thing he could imagine.
 
He stepped back far enough to pull her leggings down her thighs and tug them
off with her boots. Darcy gasped in relief and helped by lifting her hips. His
eyes fell on her cotton briefs. They were French cut, dark teal with big yellow
polka dots.
 
He groaned, letting the sight of them draw him back into the rip tide of his
lust and pressed his face to the front of them. Breathing in deep the scent of
her arousal, he pressed his mouth in a heated kiss to her mound.
 
She drew him up then, hand under his chin and kissed him rough and hungry. She
was bouncing and wiggling and he pulled back enough to see that she was trying
to work her underwear off without getting off the table. Steve felt it only
right to assist her struggles, pulling on them and sliding them down and off
her legs and tossing the over his shoulder.
 
Things moved pretty quickly after that. Darcy pushed his sweatpants down to his
thighs and squeezing his length firmly, making him twitch and jerk against her
as he tried to fight down the insistent pull to blow his load all over her soft
hands.
 
"Jesus," he complained, though it was an empty complaint that hid a prayer that
he would last long enough to make it good for her. He grabbed her ass and
pulled her to the very edge of the table, sparing a thought to be glad it was
laminated ceramic rather than wood.
 
And then she was pressing him against her, rubbing him up and down against her
clit a few times before pushing down and slotting him against her opening. With
her legs around his waist again she pulled and he was pushing in.
 
After that all he could thing was wet and hot and tight and fuck.
 
She gripped him tightly as he started moving in and out, with both her arms and
legs. It was a bit of a struggle for them to find a good rhythm, as they were
both so worked up at this point coherency was such a distant dream that
communication and cooperation were impossible.
 
Frustrated, Steve pushed on her shoulder until Darcy followed his non-verbal
demand and lay back on the table. That allowed him to hold on to her waist and
hips and set a pace that they both seemed happy with.
 
Darcy held her breasts after they bounced painfully a few times from the force
of Steve's thrusts, which let her both support and pleasure them. She twisted
and tugged on her nipples as he pounded her vigorously.
 
She wanted to talk, wanted to babble on and on about how much she liked him,
how much she'd always wanted this to happen, but also tell him how stupid he
was for treating her like a child. Obviously, she wasn't a child and he didn't
even think of her as one. She bit her lip, though, knowing this wouldn't change
his attitude about her ability to take care of herself, knowing that it would
probably make it worse.
 
She kept her words to herself and let him have her sounds. He had earned those,
at any rate, all the whimpers and moans and breathy sighs. She gave those
freely.
 
After a few minutes she noticed his breathing getting harder and his hips
starting to stagger and lose their steady tempo.
 
She felt good, she felt amazing, but she wasn't that close to coming. He
obviously was, though. She tried to push down the rising anxiety. This was
about to end, but she didn't want it to be over, yet. Not just because she
hadn't come yet, but because she knew once Steve had he would put back on his
armor, and shield himself with his guilt and she would never get close to him
again. She'd already seen the signs of it in his eyes. All the things they were
trying to ignore, to forget existed by focusing on their pleasure, all those
feelings and thoughts would be there waiting when the endorphin rush waned.
 
"Fuck, Darcy," he grunted, and she felt just as surprised by his cussing as she
was by him pulling out  and coming over her thighs and stomach and breasts. The
little stripes of were white hot and sticky on her skin, and she shivered as
the air in the garage cooled them rapidly and painted her in goosebumps.
 
Steve folded over her when he finished, resting his face on her stomach, his
arms bracing on the table beside her hips as he tried to catch his breath.
Darcy tried to hold onto the feeling of his skin warm on hers as he turned his
face to kiss her stomach dreamily. His come was sticking between them where
they touched and she wondered if he was tasting it on her.
 
That thought sent a jolt of heat and wet between her legs, and she mourned the
emptiness she felt there now. She shut her eyes and wished she had the ability
to stop time so that she could keep them here in this moment for as long as she
wanted. She wished that the rest of the world would just fuck off and leave
them alone, that there were no professors, no protestors, no villains, no
expectations, no demands.
 
No Buckys.
 
Fuck. She'd totally forgotten about Bucky.
 
Damn it.
 
She was such a fuck up.
 
Steve must have sensed her sudden tension, because he shifted, putting space
between them, though he didn't seem quite ready to look her in the eye yet, so
he left his face where it was.
 
"Sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered and she knew the moment had come.
 
Darcy pushed against his shoulder until he relented and pulled off of her
completely, standing and taking an unsteady step back.
 
"Its fine, Steve," she murmured as she sat up.
 
"Did you-?" He gestured awkwardly between her legs and she suddenly felt too
exposed and vulnerable and angry and humiliated.
 
"Don't worry about it," she said a little more forcefully as she slid to her
feet and started looking for her clothes. "I said it was fine." His semen was
cold and tacky on her skin when she crouched down to pick up her leggings, bra,
and shirt and she just wanted it gone, just wanted to be dressed and warm and
gone.
 
Damage control, she needed to do damage control.
 
She liked Steve, would always like Steve, probably, but he'd made it pretty
clear he didn't want to be more than friends, despite his just having given
into his teenage lust and fucked her on the shop table. He was a 17 year old
male, though, so she couldn't really hold that against him. She'd sort of
jumped him, after all.
 
And she did like Bucky, even though she'd originally only intended to use him
as a distraction during the last few months before graduation. He'd been
surprisingly sweet, though, and charming, and wooed her with enthusiasm. They'd
messed around some, but they hadn't slept together, yet. They hadn't even had
the talk, yet, so it wasn't technically cheating, but...
 
No, that was a lie. Even if they hadn't agreed to be exclusive yet, it was sort
of implied, and it was still a massively shitty thing to sleep with his best
friend.
 
She pulled on her leggings first, not seeing her panties anywhere in the poorly
lit space and not wanting to take time to search for them. Bra and shirt
followed, and she winced at the feel of her clothes over the smears of his seed
on her skin.
 
She didn't even bother putting on her boots, just picked them up and gripped
them in front of her.
 
Steve had pulled his sweat pants up and was using his shirt to wipe the residue
off his chest and stomach. He was not looking at Darcy.
 
She cleared her throat. "Um, Rogers?" She asked coldly, putting some distance
between them both physical and emotionally. He glanced up her and his face was
blank, his eyes hollow. "Can you not mention this to Barnes? Please?"
 
Surprise, then realization, followed by guilt and then anger flashed through
his eyes and he clenched his jaw and looked away. "You and he are...?"
 
Darcy shrugged. She was sort of shocked he didn't know. "I think we were headed
that way, maybe," she confessed. "I'm gonna tell him, I just... I think it
should come from me, you know"
 
Steve fixed his eyes on something off in the darkness and nodded. "Sure, Lewis,
if that's what you want."
 
Lewis.
 
It hit her like a punch to the gut, but she figured it was only fair. Again,
she’d started it.
 
"Okay, well..." She started, feeling the need to be far away starting to chock
her. There wasn't really anything left to say, and he didn't seem to paying any
attention to her anyway, so she turned and left.
 
Steve watched the door close behind her and then slammed his fists down on the
table.
 
"Fuck!"
 
He felt the skin break and bones grind, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
 
He hadn't know, but he should have... Bucky hadn't been around much lately.
Steve had sort of assumed his friend was just busy getting ready for finals and
graduation. He'd never said anything to Steve about Darcy, though that made
sense, seeing as how Bucky sort of knew how Steve felt about her, though he'd
tried to deny it...
 
And now...
 
He never should have dragged her in here. He should have let her go, should
have ignored his urge to yell at her for scaring him so badly by getting hurt.
 
Taking a deep breath, Steve pushed away from the table, his stained shirt still
in his bloody streaked fist. He used it to wipe the blood away, as well as any
trace of anything else.
 
It was only two weeks till graduation. He could ignore this had happened for
that long, as long as Bucky didn't come after him and beat the shit out of him.
He wondered if Bucky froze his balls off if they grow back.
 
That was food for thought.
 
He made one last glance around, spotting a flash of yellow under the car he'd
pinned Darcy against after she kissed him. He huffed at the way his cock
twitched at the memory and bent to retrieve the wadded up ball.
 
He realized almost immediately what it was. Feeling heat flush his chest and
face, he shoved Darcy's polka dotted panties into his sweatpants pocket.
 
He would try to give them back to her later, maybe. If they weren't too busy
avoiding each other.
 
As he left the garage and walked past the kitchen door on the way to the boy’s
dorm, it struck Steve that he wasn't hungry. Not even a little bit.
 
He'd gone to the kitchen because his increased metabolism demanded he eat every
few hours. His late evening snacks were Fury approved, but he was still almost
always hungry, even when he did eat regularly. Now though...
 
He felt amazing.
 
It wasn't the sex. Sex usually made him hungrier, all physical exertion did,
but right now he felt... He felt good, satisfied.
 
What the hell?
 
He decided it didn't matter. It was just one more thing to add to his list of
things to think about later. Way later.
 
As he climbed the stairs, Steve hung his head and prayed that Bucky was already
asleep. The longer he had before he had to look his friend in the eye, the
better.
 
Geez, he'd really screwed the pooch this time.    
 
Maybe eventually Bucky would forgive him. Maybe eventually Darcy would forgive
him. Maybe eventually he'd forgive himself.
 
He fingered the cotton wad in his pocket and had to fight the impulse to lift
it to his face and breath deep.
 
Then again, maybe not.
***** There’s Just an Echo Where Your Heart Used To Be *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes prided himself on his chill.
 
Ha ha, yes, pun intended, but aside from his mutant ability, he liked being the
guy that was laid back, the guy that wasn't easily ruffled. It wasn't that he
was apathetic about things, he did care. He just didn't usually let himself
loose his cool about the small stuff.
 
Which is why he was extra frustrated about how much he was freaking out about
graduation and finals and Darcy...
 
He'd hardly seen his girlfriend at all in the last week. Between finals and her
punishment for sneaking out to go to that protest they hadn't spent more than
three or four minutes together, and that was mostly in passing. He'd had time
to notice the mark on her cheek and get upset about her getting hurt, and she'd
had time to tell him she was fine, that it was nothing, but she'd seemed shifty
about it and he knew there was more to the story.
 
There was always more to the story with Darcy.
 
It was one of the things he had always loved about her. Even before they'd
gotten tipsy on Professor Romanoff's vodka and made out in the basement, before
they'd started spending a lot of time together, before they'd started dating,
it felt like he'd always had a thing for her. Of course, he'd thought Steve had
a thing for her, too, so he'd kept his distance.
 
For whatever reason, though, Steve had abdicated. Bucky wasn't going to
complain. His best friend sometimes had a stick up his ass for the dumbest
reasons.
 
Still, he imagined that if he'd followed his friend's example he wouldn't be
half as stressed out as he was right now.
 
Sitting at his desk in their shared dorm room, Bucky stared down at the late-
admission application for Culver University. He couldn't believe he was
seriously considering sending it in. He must be, though, because he'd filled it
out.
 
Bucky had always imagined his life following right along with Steve's.
Graduation, then serious training to become an X-Man, then living and fighting
with the team. His future had been filled with a series of missions, one after
the other, nothing but the fight for the greater good.
 
Now, though...
 
It wasn't just the idea of following Darcy, of getting to stay with her and
figure out what their future might be together, it was also the fact that
spending time with her meant spending time with Jane, Bruce, and Tony.
 
With the three of them around, the topics of science and invention and
discovery were inevitable, and Bucky, who had only ever put minimal effort into
his studies and pulled off a B average, was suddenly considering what it might
be like to be passionate about learning and knowledge.
 
For the first time he was considering wanting something more for his life, more
than just training and fighting and palling around with Steve. It was a strange
feeling.
 
It was also stressful as hell.
 
What if he applied and didn't get in? What if he did get in, but then couldn't
afford to go? His parents had been saving for his college since the day they
found out Bucky's mom was pregnant, but that had been before his abilities had
manifest, before they'd freaked out and called the CDC, before he'd run away
and found his way to Fury's School for Gifted Youngsters.
 
Applying to college meant he might have to reach out to his family.
 
If anything had the ability to stress him out it was the idea of calling his
parents up on the phone.
 
Bucky had a lot to consider, a lot to decide. No big deal; it was only the rest
of his life.
 
He pushed away from the desk and stood up, pacing for a few minutes before
deciding he'd think better on a full stomach. He didn't want to have to go all
the way down to the kitchen, though.
 
Good thing Steve always kept snacks in his dresser. Bucky didn't think his
friend would mind if he snagged a bag of chips.
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
Steve’s gait was slow and thoughtful as he walked the distance between the
medical wing and the guy’s dorms.
 
Dr. Simmons had confirmed that the strange spikes in his strength and speed he
had experienced at the beginning of the week had dropped back to normal. She
wanted him to schedule time with Dr. Cho to make sure that the instability was
minor and not a sign of his mutation growing out of control.
 
Steve had agreed, but in his mind he already had a theory. The question that he
pondered now was whether or not he should he tell the school’s doctors, or
anyone else, for that matter, what he suspected was the cause of his short
burst in increased physical ability.
 
Really, he mostly wondered if he should tell Darcy.
 
They hadn’t spoken since that night in the garage. He’d barely even seen her,
for which he’d been somewhat grateful. It would have been hard to hide the fact
that she was constantly in his thoughts if he'd been forced to face her.
 
He figured she would probably find out eventually, if the science guys really
did start running all kinds of tests on his abilities. Steve wasn’t sure how
she’d reacted to the idea that her…
 
His train of thought completely derailed as he stepped into his room and shut
the door behind him, noticing Bucky was there, sitting on Steve’s bed with his
fists clenched, elbows resting on his knees and his head bowed.
 
One look and the blond figured Darcy had finally gotten around to telling Bucky
what had happened. He’d sort of been avoiding his best friend as much as
possible, waiting for the news to drop, but there was no use putting it off
forever.
 
“Bucky,” he said quietly, stepping closer so that he could eye his friend
cautiously.
 
The brunet’s forehead wrinkled up as a confused frown crossed his face, but he
didn’t look up to meet Steve’s gaze. That probably meant this was going to go
even worse that he’d feared.
 
“Bucky, I’m so so-” he started, but Bucky cut him off.
 
His friend's voice was low and calm, deceptively so, if the stiff movement of
his jaw was anything to go by.
 
“I keep sitting here thinking, ‘There’s got to be another DL that I’m just
forgetting. I mean, there’s Donnie Lancaster, but unless you both have a secret
you’ve been hiding all these years, I just can’t imagine these are his.” His
left fist unclenched and a small wad of fabric unfurled and hung off the end of
Bucky’s finger. “But I have to be forgetting someone, because there’s
absolutely no logical fucking reason that the initials inked into this tag
could mean who I think it does.”
 
The teal briefs with yellow polka dots that belonged to Bucky’s girlfriend, the
ones Steve had hidden in the corner of his sock drawer while he figured out
what to do with them after she’d left them on the floor of the garage, after
he’d removed them… Before he’d fucked her on the table…
 
Steve was not a great liar. Never had been, and had never wanted to be- until
this moment. He was sure the truth of what he’d done was written all over his
beet-red face.
 
He was half tempted to start spewing excuses, or start begging for Bucky’s
forgiveness, but from the look on the other boy's face when he glanced up,
those eyes burning with betrayal and confusion and rage, Steve figured none of
that would be welcome.
 
He wanted to stay quiet, really he did, but the part of him that was angry and
frustrated about this whole fucked up situation had flipped on and he was
taking a defensive stance and blurting, “You went through my things?” before he
realized his lips were even moving.
 
“No, I didn’t go through your things,” Bucky spat, his confusion melting away
to be replaced with disgust and hatred. “I was looking for something to eat. I
did mean to stumble on your dirty little secret, Steve.” He’d imbued his
friend’s name with a special kind of venom.
 
He stood quickly, startling Steve into taking a step backwards and putting his
hands up.
 
“What the hell, man!? You told me you weren’t interested. You said you didn’t
care if I started dating Darcy. So why the fuck do you have a pair of her
underwear in your drawer? Did you steal them out of the laundry? Sneak into her
room? I mean… I never figured you for the kind of pervert that got off on…”
 
Words seemed to fail Bucky, as if he wasn’t even sure what it was Steve was
getting off on.
 
Steve just felt like Bucky had socked him in the stomach.
 
Bucky didn't know.
 
Darcy hadn’t told him.
 
Whatever his friend was imaging, it was nowhere near as horrible as the truth.
 
Steve swallowed hard and looked down, trying to find the words.
 
Maybe he could just let Bucky think he was some kind of stalker perv. That
would be easier, right?
 
For a moment Steve felt a real and vibrant anger at Darcy burn up his throat
for not keeping her word and telling Bucky, for leaving him in the position of
having to confessing his sins to his best friend- someone he cared deeply for,
someone he’d hurt just as deeply.
 
“Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to tell me why-” Bucky
shouted, but it was Steve’s turn to cut him off, apparently.
 
“I was waiting to give them back to her. She left them behind, and I-” he
stopped, the admission suddenly too awful to say aloud. “I just haven’t seen
her lately, so I still have them.”
 
Bucky’s fury faltered and his confusion returned. “She left them? Where? Here?”
 
Steve could see the thoughts whirling in the boy’s blue-grey eyes until all the
pieces clicked into place. His next question was the only one that really
mattered.
 
“When?”
 
Steve winced and shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes sliding away from
Bucky’s desperate, hopeful gaze. Hopeful, because as shitty as it might be that
Steve had hooked up with Darcy and not told his friend about it, if it was a
thing of the distant past then...well that might be considered a minor
infraction, a thing that could be easily forgive.
 
If only Steve could lie.
 
“WHEN!?” Bucky screamed, his hope evaporating in the face of Steve’s shame
riddled silence. He rushed forward and got his fists in the blond’s shirt,
jerking him up and in.
 
Steve gasped, shocked at Bucky’s violence and vehemence. “Last week,” he
answered, the words rushing out in a strangled, truthful blow.
 
Bucky shoved him, sending him crashing against the other bed and tumbling
gracelessly to the floor before jumping on him and punching him hard across the
jaw.
 
Steve let him get the first blow in, figured he owed him that much at least,
but blocked the second, catching his friend’s fist in his big palm.
 
“Jesus, Buck!” He cursed as the other boy drew the heat from Steve’s fingers
and left it frozen and burning with cold. Steve released his hand then and
tried shoving the outraged friend off of him. “I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t know!
I didn’t know about you and her till after!” He babbled as he tried to ward off
his friend’s attack.
 
“Oh! So this is my fault! Or all Darcy’s fault? Is that what you're saying?”
Bucky sneered as he landed an elbow across Steve’s temple.
 
“NO!” Steve bellowed and used all his enhanced strength to shove Bucky off.
Once the weight was off his chest Steve scrambled to his feet and raised his
fists in a defensive stance. “No, it’s my fault,” he admitted, shaking his head
and feeling a trickle of blood from his lip on his chin. “I SHOULD have known.
I should have, but I just...I didn’t want to see. I just…”
 
They stood facing each other, breathing hard, hair mussed and faces red with
anger and exertion from their fight. The yellow spotted underwear lay discarded
on the floor between their feet.
 
“How?” Bucky asked, his face twisting with pain as he stared at them, his eyes
tearing up and his lips curling and his chin quivering.
 
Steve didn’t know if he meant ‘how did it happen,’ or simply ‘how could you,’
but he knew it wouldn’t really matter. He’d greatly underestimated how much his
friend felt for the curvy brunette. Bucky was the least emotional person Steve
knew, or at least the best at hiding his feelings, and to see him nearly coming
apart, ready to shed tears over this betrayal…
 
“Last week, when she got back from the protest,” Steve explained, knowing it
wouldn’t help, but knowing he didn’t want to hurt his friend even more by
hiding things and lying to him. “I ran into her in the kitchen. I saw her face
and...we fought.”
 
That seemed to startle Bucky. “You fought!? Then how…”
 
“I don’t know, okay!?” Steve shouted, throwing his arms and up and turning to
glare at his sock drawer, still half open. “One minute we were screaming at
each other, and I was so pissed about her sneaking out again and getting
herself hurt, and then it just happened. I don’t- I don’t know how. We just- I
just-”
 
The fight went out of Steve and he plopped down onto Bucky’s bed, defeated and
powerless in the face of Bucky’s pain.
 
“I was telling her what an idiot she was one minute and the next… We were
kissing and it just...it just spiraled out of control. And after...when she
told me you two were basically together, I just felt so awful. I ignored all
the signs, I should have seen, but I just didn’t even think…” Steve just kept
rambling, wanting to explain, but not wanting to give Bucky any of the
specifics because he didn’t want to hurt him any more that he already was.
 
He might as well have told him all the gritty details.
 
“You didn’t even think about me for a second. Didn’t think about how I’d feel,
about how I FEEL about her. You couldn’t give two shits about me at all, could
you? You’ve always wanted to fuck her and the second you get steamed enough to
forget the giant stick up your ass, you did.”
 
Bucky’s hands went into his hair and he pulled at it and let out an angry roar.
The heels of his hands pressed hard into his eyes as he stood there, chest
heaving and pulse pounding, obviously distraught, and Steve wanted to reach out
to him, wanted to explain how Darcy was his Kryptonite, how he never wanted to
let her close because she made him week, made him stupid.
 
He’d made a mistake, a huge, critical mistake and now she was under his skin
like a blade, cutting at his very sense of self, and he could see that same
blade working at his friend, tearing him apart, and he only wanted it to stop,
only wanted all the pain to end for both of them, but he would gladly take that
suffering from Bucky, if he could. He’d never wanted this, never wanted any of
this.
 
Bucky’s next words were as cold as the ice that he could control.
 
“Saint Steven,” he said, and scoffed lightly, his hands falling to his side.
“Everyone always called you a self-righteous asshole, but I knew you always
just wanted to do the right thing. They said you were a perfect goody-two shoes
that thought you were better than everyone else, but I always knew you weren’t
perfect, knew you just held yourself to a higher standard. I always knew it was
a matter of time before you screwed up badly enough for people to see that.”
 
When he looked up this time, his face was totally blank, his eyes like the sky
reflected in a glacial lake, perfectly cold and still.
 
“Why’d it have to be like this? With her?” He asked, his voice cracking enough
at the end to know how deep his hurt ran.
 
Steve’s heart was breaking. He was ready to do whatever it took to make this
right. Ready to beg for forgiveness, ready to let his friend beat him up some
more. He’d apologize until he ran out of breath, suffer whatever punishment
Bucky deemed necessary. Anything.
 
“Bucky, I-” Steve started, but he was cut off one more time.
 
“James,” Bucky said without explanation.
 
“What?” He asked, confusion making Steve scowl.
 
“Only my friends are allowed to call me Bucky, and you’re obviously no friend
of mine.”
 
“Buck-” Steve gasped, half in shock, half in protest. “I’m sorry! I don’t know
how to tell you how sorry I am, I never wanted to hurt you. I screwed up, I
know I did, but I’m still… You’re my best friend, and would never forgive
myself if I ruined our friendship.”
 
“Guess that makes two of us,” Bucky-James said and turned to walk towards the
door.
 
“Wait! Please! There has to be some way to fix this- Something I can do to-”
Steve pleaded, reaching out for Buck’s arm as he passed, but his skin was so
cold it burned, and he had to jerk his hand away.
 
“You can go fuck yourself, Steven, that’s what you can do. I’m done.”
 
All the air left Steve’s lungs in a rush and he stood, stunned as his- as James
left. When his eyes fell from the door, which shut with a bang, they found
yellow polka-dots and he’d never wished so hard that his power was setting
things on fire.
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
Darcy was finished.
 
She was exhausted, but she was finished. She dusted the dirt off her pants and
tucked the work gloves into her pocket.
 
Every moment not spent in class taking her finals, or studying, or sleeping,
she had been doing some kind of manual labor around the mansion. Professors
Barton and Coulson had wanted to make sure she didn’t have enough time to get
in more trouble before graduation. Next week she’d be busy with packing and
getting ready for the move to Virginia to start the rest of her life.
 
She couldn’t believe it was almost time to leave. There were things she was
going to miss about this place, people mostly, but that’s what cell phones were
for, right? Talking to the people you cared about?
 
Speaking of- Darcy was going to take a long hot shower and then she needed to
find Bucky. All she wanted to do was collapse into her bed for 24 hours or so,
but she’d put off telling him long enough.
 
She kept telling herself that this was probably for the best, that this way
they could make a complete break, if not a clean one. She messed up big time
and she could he’d probably be glad she was leaving after she told him. It
would suck for her, she’d come to really like Bucky the last few weeks.
 
He’d surprised her.
 
She’d always seen him as a bit shallow, a bit of player, a bit of a clown, but
he’d proven her wrong at every turn. He’d been sweet and caring and hadn’t
pushed her for more than she was willing to give, and he’d been great with Jane
and the Brains. He was wildly more intelligent than he let on, and so funny…
 
God, he was so great and she’d had to go and screw it's all up by screwing his
best friend in a fit of hormonal/emotional madness. He deserved so much better
than her…
 
She glanced up as she climbed the stairs in the main hall to see the man in
question descending in a hurry.
 
Speak of the devil…
 
“Bucky!” She called out to him and his head snapped up, his eyes catching hers
for an instant and then he was looking past her, then back at his feet as his
pace slowed and he paused on the stairs above her.
 
“Hey, Lewis,” he mumbled.
 
“I’m glad I ran into you,” she said, stopping a couple steps below him. “I need
to talk to you about something, actually. I was gonna clean up and then maybe
we could meet up, if you're free?”
 
“You can save the heartfelt confession. I already know what you’re going to
say, so how bout we skip it, huh?” There was a rueful, bitter tone to his words
as he turned his head to look everywhere but right at her.
 
Wait. He knew?
 
Darcy frowned. “How did-” her words fell off as she realized the only way he
could have found out. “Steve told you.” She swallowed hard and glanced down to
watch her hands fiddle with the hem of her t-shirt. “I asked him to let me tell
you. I was going to do it sooner, but Barton-”
 
“Yeah, I get it, Lewis. It’s not like it was too important to wait or
anything,” he said, and his sarcastic words belied the casual way he spoke
them.
 
“Oh, fuck,” she cursed under her breath. “I know, I know, and I’m so so sorry,
Bucky. I can’t even make any excuses, I don’t even know… I have no defense, I
totally screwed up and I know it. I’m so, so sorry.”
 
She hadn’t wanted to have this conversation in the main hall, but it wasn’t
like she could put it off now. Not that she wanted to. She just hoped she could
say what she needed to say before they were interrupted.
 
“I really like you, Bucky. I do. The last few weeks with you have
been...really, really great, actually, and I just… I know I ruined things. I
never wanted to hurt you…”
 
“You can save it. I don’t want to hear all the gory details, and I don’t want
to hear how much you really liked me, okay? That just makes it...makes it
worse, somehow,” he said, his face shifting with repressed emotion and his eyes
still not meeting hers. “I know Steve is the one you always wanted. I knew he
wanted you, too, but I just couldn't stop myself from falling in love with you
anyway, like the world's biggest idiot.”
 
Darcy gaped at him. “You...you l-love me?” She stammered, her brain refusing to
compute. “No, I mean, we’ve only been...It’s only been a few weeks,” she
declared, as if that was the only thing to say.
 
“For you,” he said, a self-deprecating sneer making his lips curl. “For you
it's only been a few weeks. I’ve been half in love with you since you bandaged
my hand in Professor Morse’ class Sophomore year.”
 
He’d been goofing off with one of the scalpels when they were supposed to be
dissecting frogs. He’d hidden his bloody hand in his pocket until class ended,
not wanting to get in trouble for messing around, but she’d noticed the blood
stain on his jeans and dragged him into the girls’ bathroom to scold him and
patch him up with a tampon and some scotch tape. She’d been so bold and
beautiful and kind, he thought his heart might stop and his lungs might
collapse from the weight of wanting to kiss her. Any attempts at asking her out
had been shrugged off as his just being his normal, flirty self, and when
they’d left the bathroom and found Steve waiting…
 
Her eyes had lit up at his blond friend’s gratitude for taking care of him, and
she’d blushed and stammered that it was nothing, Bucky basically forgotten in
lieu of her obvious crush.
 
“I never did or said anything cause I never thought you’d give me a chance,
never thought you’d be able see me passed Steve’s brilliant perfection,” he
added sadly, and landed the final blow that really and truly broke her heart
when he finished with, “Guess I was right,” before brushing by her and leaving
her standing there with tears shining in her eyes.
 
The worst part, she thought, was that he wasn’t wrong, not really.
 
Darcy had had her eye on Steven Grant Rogers since the day he showed up at the
mansion, a skin and bones kid with the most beautiful blue eyes and pouty full
lips she’d ever seen. Her affection had only grown when she got to know him,
found out what an incredibly kind and good person he was. He’d filled out
pretty quickly, shooting up in height and weight after the doctors at the
school had identified his mutation and how to stabilize it and everyone had
been drawn to him. She’d tried to play it cool, because they were friends, and
he usually already had a girlfriend, but she’d secretly hoped they might get
together one day.
 
All that Friends to Lovers bullshit they always showed in the movies.
 
Except, the movies never showed you what to do when your crush thought you were
weak and foolish. Or what to do when the two of you finally hooked up after all
the years of pent up want and frustration while you were dating his best
friend.
 
She let all her helpless anger and heartache channel towards one person. Before
she got in the shower she sent three texts and then turned off her phone.
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
Bucky felt inches away from his body tearing itself apart. His mind was
reeling, his body surging with adrenaline fueled by his anger and frustration.
Then, underneath it all, was the cold, blunt fingers of grief and loss and
hopelessness that curled up in a fist of self-pity that sat around his heart,
squeezing periodically, just to remind him that his life was a total shitbox.
 
He’d been somewhat confused about what he wanted to do with his life before the
atomic bomb of awful had fallen into it. Now? Now he was so fucking lost he
wasn’t even sure how he was supposed to find his next breath.
 
Somehow, Bucky had made his way into town. He was paying much attention to how
he’d gotten there. His only focus was to get out, get away from the source of
his pain. Sources of his pain- plural. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or
where he was going, or what he was going to do about… well, about anything,
actually.
 
The spring weather was warm enough, he noticed that he had started to sweat.
Taking a hold of his powers, he chilled the air around him. Focusing on his
body like that made him realize just how parched he was.
 
Bucky moved on autopilot, checking his wallet and, finding a few dollars cash
inside, and angled his path towards a gas station across the street. The bell
over the door was just one more thing that jangled against his stressed and
frayed nerves, but he did his best to ignore it, to block everything out again
as he made his way to the back of the long, narrow aisles to the coolers. He
eyed the beer longingly, but found the cashier, a middle aged woman with lank
blond hair and bags under her eyes, glaring at him disapprovingly when he
glanced at her over his shoulder.
 
Sighing and regretting the fact that his fake ID was hidden in the back of his
desk drawer, he moved over to pull a Coke from the next cooler. When he set it
on the counter, Sheri (her name tag declared proudly), checked it three times,
as if needing to make triple sure it wasn’t booze.
 
He fought the urge to roll his eyes and pulled out his wallet. After handing
her two dollars and waiting for his change he pulled out his phone and checked
it out of habit.
 
Which turned out to be a colossal mistake.
 
Text from Darcy blazed across his screen.
 
Bucky stared at it, mesmerized by the potential contained in those three words.
 
“Your change?” Sheri said peevishly, and he reached out his hand for it
absently.
 
After pocketing the coins, he decided the anxiety of not knowing was far worse
than anything that might be contained inside, but as he pulled his hand out of
his pocket to reach up and slide the text open a voice next to him startled him
out of his trance.
 
“Hey, you! Mutie freak!”
 
Bucky’s head snapped up violently.
 
Just in time to witness everything go to hell.
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
When Steve returned from the training center where he had beaten the shit out
of the punching bag and demolished his record for the fastest time running the
Danger Room Scenario Professor Howlett had him working on this week, he found
two texts waiting for him- both from Darcy.
 
He ignored them for almost 15 minutes while he showered and changed clothes,
but eventually the need to know got to be too much.
 
In this case, it was the satisfaction that proved fatal for the cat, rather
than the curiosity.
 
Text from Darcy
    You are a fucking liar Steven Rogers and I hate you
 
Text from Darcy
    I can’t believe you told Bucky!
 
Steve glared at the words, feeling all of his frustration and anger recoil
against them.
 
How dare Darcy put this all on him?! It wasn’t like it was his fault she hadn’t
gotten around to telling Bucky, like she said she would. So, she was a fucking
liar, too. And technically he hadn’t toldl Bucky.
 
Selecting the call button he pressed his phone to his ear and fumed, waiting
for her to pick up. He was beyond pissed when it clicked right over to
voicemail.
 
Was she ignoring his call?!
 
He pulled his shoes on without taking time for socks and marched himself across
the mansion to the girls’ dorm wing. It wasn’t curfew, yet, so technically he
was allowed to be there, but the look on his face and the tense set of his
frame left a wake of silent stares behind him.
 
Pounding loudly on her door, he waited for her to answer for four whole seconds
before twisting the doorknob and barging in.
 
Steve spotted Darcy laying on her bed, her hair in a damp knot and her face to
the wall.
 
“What the hell, Darcy?!” he yelled.
 
“Go away, Steve. I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she sniffled quietly.
 
 Steve laughed bitterly and put his hands on his hips. “You’re being a bit
hypocritical about all of this, don’t you think? I thought you were going to
tell Bucky what happened, because you told me you were going to. So, don’t put
this all on me.”
 
A pillow landed square in his face, though he caught it before it hit the
floor.
 
By the time he looked up again, Darcy was sitting on her bed, turned toward him
now so that he could see the red, puffy skin around her eyes and nose.
 
“I said go away, Steve,” she repeated, her bloodshot eyes burning with fury,
though her voice stayed low. “I don’t need you to come in here and tell me how
badly I screwed up, okay? I know I did. I was going to tell him, I was, but I
haven’t had two seconds to breathe all week, and I…” She took a deep breath and
tightened her first in the bottom of her overly-large t-shirt. “I was just
going to find him and tell him tonight. Why did you have to tell him? Why
couldn’t you wait just a couple more hours, huh? I would have… Maybe it
wouldn’t have been so bad… I’m so pissed at you! Just leave, okay.”
 
“I didn’t! For the record, I didn’t tell Bucky. He found…” Steve’s anger
faltered as he realized the admission he’d almost made. “He found out all on
his own.” He swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably.
 
“How did he find out if you didn't tell him?” She asked, her eyes suspicious
and angry.
 
“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted dismissively.
 
“No! Please!” She argued bitterly. “If I didn’t tell him and you didn’t tell
him, then how the fuck did he find out? Cause it seemed monumentally important
just exactly how Bucky found out that I cheated on him. Obviously, you thought
it was a big enough deal that you had to come charging down here, ready to tell
me off about the whole thing!” She said, her voice finally rising in volume and
pitch.
 
With his face a beaming red, Steve shook his head and clenched his jaw.
 
“WELL!?” She screamed, standing and pushing against him, though he barely moved
with the force of her shoving fists.
 
Suddenly, he was back in that garage. The yelling, the pushing and hitting, the
anger and the twist in his gut, his mouth on hers, his hand on her ass…
 
He shook his head harder, to clear the image away. When Darcy went to shove him
again he caught her wrists and pushed her back onto her bed. It wasn’t hard
enough to hurt her, but her eyes flew wide with shock.
 
“He found your underwear, okay!” he yelled, losing his temper as he struggled
with all the conjured up emotions and memories.
 
That sent Darcy for a loop, she just started at him with a lack of
comprehension on her face. “In the garage? How does that…?”
 
“They were in our room. In my- in my drawer. I was gonna give them back to you,
but…” He confessed, his eyes closed and his head tipped back.
 
“You kept my underwear!?” Darcy shrieked. “Did it ever occur to you that that
might make all of this already beyond fucked up mess look even worse?! What the
hell is wrong with you, Steve?!” She stood and started pacing back and forth,
her hands pulling at her clothes and pushing a stray lock of hair out of her
face repeatedly. “No wonder he was so… God, Steve! He was so convinced there
was more going on then one huge fucking mistake! He looked so destroyed! Jesus!
Did you even think for a second-?”
 
“Of course I did!” Steve roared, the whole thing pressing too hard against all
the parts of him that wanted to be good, do good, be a hero, until he started
to splinter and crack. “I was there, okay!? I saw his face, felt his fist. It
was never supposed to happen like this! I didn’t mean for any of this to
happen! You think this is what I wanted?! Cause this is so far from what I ever
wanted!”
 
“I should never-” he gulped hard, trying to get enough air around his regret
and despair. “I never should have touched you! You’re right about that! It was
one huge fucking mistake. I fought it all so hard, just to have it all come
crashing down in one moment of stupid, fucking weakness! I never wanted to hurt
Bucky like this! He’s my best friend and now he’ll probably never even talk to
me again. All because of some stupid girl!”
 
“Oh, that’s right,” Darcy hissed. “I’m just some stupid girl. I’m SO stupid! I
thought for one second that you might actually look at me and see something
other than a huge mistake. I wasted so much time wishing and hoping that
something I did might get through to you, might make you see me as… What
happened in that garage never should have happened. It never should have
happened because you couldn’t give a shit about me and I had something good and
solid with Bucky and I threw that all away because I just couldn’t…”
 
Darcy put her hands over her eyes and felt the tears rising up again, choking
her and she felt the guilt and remorse slicing at her insides as if she’d
swallowed a hand full of glass shards. She stood there sobbing for several
minutes before she was able to get enough air in to speak while Steve just
stood there, hands at his side, watching helplessly.
 
“Do you know what he told me before he left?” she asked him, her face still
hidden in her hands. “He told me loved me, Steve.”
 
Steve gasped, the words landing like a blow against his solar plexus. Jealousy,
hot and sickly green, flared fresh in his chest.
 
“He loved me and I ruined it all, threw that in his face because of some stupid
childish infatuation for a guy that only makes me feel like a worthless piece
of shit!” she sneered, her voice breaking and hoarse before dropping down onto
her bed. “Now he’s gone and he’ll probably never speak to me again, either.”
 
Steve was too overwhelmed to deal with all the revelations she’d just made, so
he just jumped onto the one thing that was easiest to process. “What do you
mean he’s gone?”
 
She raised her face and glared at him. “I don’t know, he just left. He walked
out and he hasn’t responded to my text. I don’t know where he went. I don’t
know what to do, or how to make this right, or if I can make this right and I
just feel like the worst possible human being right now and I just can’t deal
with you coming in her and yelling at me and telling me how awful I am, because
I already know it, okay? I already know it…”
 
Steve’s next words were cut off by a knock against the still open door.
 
He looked up to find a blank faced Professor Romanov standing there.
 
“Now’s not really a good-” Steve started, but the red-headed woman cut him off.
 
“Steve. I need you and Darcy to come with me now.”
 
There was something in the way she said his name, the tone she used. It
was...careful. It didn’t sound like they were in trouble, which is what he’d
first assumed.
 
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Darcy asked, obviously sensing the same wrongness.
 
“It’s Bucky.”
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
 
 
It should be raining, Darcy thought.
 
The spring sunshine was bright and warm, especially through the black of her
dress. She couldn’t feel much right now, (she’d been slightly hysterical after
the service and Dr. Simmons had given her a shot of something to help calm her
down), but she knew the beautiful day felt wrong.
 
One good thing about the sun, though, was that she could hide behind her
sunglasses and no one could see the blotchy and puffy remains of her tears on
her face.
 
It was strange. She could physically feel the evidence of all her crying, but
she couldn’t access the emotions that had caused it.
 
That was probably for the best.
 
She watched as people moved through the line, dropping their handful of dirt
down onto the coffin. There were students and professors, as well as Bucky’s
family, his mom, dad, and three little sisters, and of course, there was Steve.
 
Even in her numbed state she felt anger tickling at the back of her mind
anytime she glanced at his perfectly combed blond hair, or stupid, teary blue
eyes, or his clenched jaw. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since
Professor Fury had told them about the attack in town.
 
There had been an angry group of guys fresh from the protests, and a poorly
made pipe bomb that had gone off too close to the gas pumps, which had caused a
chain reaction that resulted in them only finding small pieces of their friend.
Her boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?
 
She didn’t even know what to call him.
 
She only knew he was gone and it was her fault. Hers, and Steve’s.
 
They’d cancelled the graduation ceremony after the attack, what with the local
unrest being off the chart and there being a funeral to attend, so Darcy was
only waiting for one of the professors to deliver their diplomas around and
then she and Jane were out of there.
 
Jane…
 
She looked over to where her best friend was tugging gently on her hand.
 
“It’s our turn, Darce,” she whispered, her voice soft and her eyes filled with
sympathy.
 
She let Jane lead her over to the hole in the ground that held what was left of
the funny, smart, sweet boy that had loved her. The faculty had done their best
to keep the grisly details from the students, but she’d heard all the rumors.
They’d been able to identify the remains from two or three sufficiently intact
fingerprints from the smoldering parts of his left arm and hand. The rest had
been too burnt or even vaporized to tell there who’s exploded bits were whose.
 
Moving on autopilot she lifted a fist full of dirt form the mound and dropped
it into the hole. There was a soft thunk and then nothing. Jane led her away.
 
Before her best friend could lower her into the backseat of her mom’s car,
Darcy caught sight of Steve one last time.
 
He was looking right at her, his nostrils flaring and his teeth clenched so
tight she thought, for a moment, that he might shatter all them.
 
Then he turned his head and Darcy climbed into the vehicle and they drove away,
leaving Steve standing at his best friend’s graveside, completely alone.
Chapter End Notes
     Some of you might wish I'd tagged this MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.
     ......
     ....
     ...
     ..
     Come on, guys! It's Bucky, okay?
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