“When is he getting here?”
“What?”
“When is he getting here?”
“When is who getting here?”
Peter looked unamused.
“Kid, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“I’m not asking if it is a big deal, I’m asking when he’s getting here,” Peter persisted.
Tony hesitated. “He should be here this weekend.”
Peter didn’t say anything for a moment. “You know,” he said quietly, “Just because you forgave them doesn’t mean you have to be comfortable with him coming.”
Tony sighed and absentmindedly grazed a few fingers through the sides of Peter's hair. “I know,” he replied, equally as quiet. He could see the confusion in the teenager’s eyes, but they didn’t push the conversation any further.
___
Stumbling into the kitchen Saturday morning, Peter didn’t need super senses to recognize something was different. Voices carried from the common area, one new tone registering in his ears.
“Oh hey, you’re finally awake!” Sam noted. “Peter this is Bucky, he is the newest residential dinosaur here at the Compound.”
Peter froze.
“At least give him the chance to wake up before you start making bad jokes,” Bucky muttered.
Peter turned to face the newcomer. Surprisingly, his spidey sense was silent. “Um, hi. I’m Peter,” he nodded, awkwardly.
“It’s nice to meet you, Peter.”
___
Weeks passed, and there wasn’t much interaction between Peter and Bucky. Between Peter’s busy school and Spider-Man schedule, and Tony’s never-ending requirements with Stark Industries, there wasn’t too much bonding time leftover for the team. Anytime Peter did make it up to the Compound, the day was usually spent down in the lab with Tony. The duo weren’t avoiding the others at all, it just happened.
When Peter did see the other teammates, Bucky rarely spoke. Yet Sam, Natasha, and Steve all bantered and laughed with him. Peter had a hard time understanding Bucky.
By this point, Peter felt extremely comfortable around the original trio. After the conversation with Steve in the lab, Peter finally closed the barrier between him and the soldier. Steve would help him train, targeting his super strength side (since nobody else could).
Peter trusted Sam, Steve, and Natasha. They trusted Bucky.
Maybe Peter could learn to trust Bucky as well.
___
“Alright, old man, let’s get going - oh.”
“Good morning Peter,” Steve started, stretching his body out. Next to him, Bucky was tying his hair away from his face.
Peter had just exited the Compound, meeting Steve for their morning run.
“Uh, hi,” Peter replied, glancing between the two men.
“Bucky is going to join us this morning, I hope that’s okay. Don’t worry, he can keep up with us,” Steve said with a smile.
Bucky snorted. “Pretty sure I can kick your ass, but okay.” The man gave a smirk to his friend, before glancing at Peter. “I can leave if you want, I don’t want to intrude,” Bucky said, noticing the boy’s hesitation.
“Oh it’s okay!” Peter nodded. “The more the merrier, I guess,” he muttered under his breath.
It’s not that Peter doesn’t want him there, or that he is scared of Bucky. He just doesn’t know how to act around him. Before, when the Rogues first arrived, it was the same thing. Peter just walked on eggshells around them, unsure of how to act or what to say, hoping somebody else would break the ice. Luckily now, there are four other people around willing to do that for Peter. Once Peter opens up around someone, there’s no closing him back up. But it is the initial step that Peter can never navigate with ease.
After the run, Peter sprawled out on his back in the lawn, trying to catch his breath. Bucky sat on the grass, rolling his left shoulder occasionally.
“You okay?” Steve asked him, standing across from the pair and drinking water.
“Yeah, it just pinches,” Bucky muttered, reaching for his water bottle. His metal hand twitched, and knocked the bottle over before he could pick it up.
“Was it not doing that before?” Steve asked. Peter turned his head to look at him, slightly surprised how nonchalant he was discussing the man’s prosthetic.
“Not really. I dunno.”
“Can you fix it?”
“I could with the other one, this is the one from Wakanda so I don’t really know how it works.”
“I could help,” a voice said, quietly. The men almost missed the prompt over the breeze. Both turned to Peter, who was still flat on his back in the grass.
“Really?” Steve asked, eyebrows slightly raised.
“Yeah, I mean I’m not the best with that stuff and I’ve never worked with vibranium before,” Peter said, unable to stop the offer from spilling out.
Why am I offering to help? Where am I getting these words from? The boy thought to himself.
“You don’t have to do that, it’s fine-” Bucky said, almost ashamed.
“It’s hurting you, and it isn’t really working, and that sucks,” Peter said simply, looking at Bucky. “I can at least try.”
Bucky responded with a small smile.
“Okay let’s go.” Peter heaved himself off of the grass.
“Wait, what?”
“C’mon, we can go work on it in the lab.”
“Wait- We don’t have to go right now,” Bucky said.
Peter paused. “You’re, like, in pain. What are we gonna do, go eat breakfast?” He turned, and headed back into the building.
Bucky, still confused, turns to a chuckling Steve for explanation.
___
“So, how long has it been hurting?”
Bucky was seated on a stool next to the lab bench, prosthetic still attached. Peter stood next to the man, opening and moving pieces around to try to locate the source of the issue.
“A few weeks ago,” the man offered quietly.
Peter set his screwdriver on the workbench and grabbed another tool, humming in response.
Another minute passed, “When did it start glitching?”
Bucky chuckled at the choice of words. “A few weeks ago,” he repeated.
“You moved in almost two months ago,” Peter noted. Bucky nodded in response. “If this was malfunctioning, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
The older man sighed. “I was going to fix it.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know how?” Peter switched his tools again.
Bucky offered no response. Peter continued to work.
After a few minutes of silence, Bucky broke it. “I didn’t want to bother anyone.”
“Didn’t want to bother anyone or didn’t want to bother Mr. Stark?” Bucky looked at Peter. Quieter, the boy said, “I know about Siberia.”
Bucky visibly stiffened and turned his face away from the boy.
“Well I guess I shouldn’t say that. I don’t know all the details, but I know Mr. Stark doesn’t blame you for it,” he rambled. “I’m serious, when everyone else showed up I got really mad and yelled at Steve. And then Mr. Stark told me not to be because he said whatever happened was everyone’s fault.”
Peter set his tools down on the table and waited until Bucky looked at him again.
“Mr. Stark forgives you. I don’t know how comfortable he is around you yet, but he forgives you.” Bucky nodded.
The boy picked up a pair of tweezers and a pair of pliers and continued his work. After a few minutes, Peter gave a small gasp and moved the tools around a bit.
“I think I see… let me know if anything feels different,” he said, continuing to wiggle his hands.
Bucky inhaled sharply, and Peter leaned back. The man rolled his shoulder a few times, and nodded. “Much better.”
Peter grinned, and began to reset his arm. Bucky cleared his throat, “Really, Peter, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”
Peter shrugged, “If it bothers you again, you can always ask me. You won’t bother me, Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky laughed, “You can call me Bucky.” Peter smiled in return and started cleaning up the tools.
After a few minutes, Bucky turned to the boy. “Did you really yell at Steve?”
Peter’s cheeks turned pink. “Yeah,” he started, “but it was only because he was yelling at Mr. Stark for bringing me to Germany because he said it was too dangerous. And then he yelled about a bunch of other stuff, so I yelled at him because I was Spider-Man before I met Mr. Stark, so-”
“Wait, you’re that Spider kid from the airport fight?”
Peter’s blush was a deep red by this point. “Yeah,” he said, uncertainly.
Bucky paused for a minute, then nodded. “Cool.” Peter beamed.
___
The next morning, Bucky and Steve are talking and stretching before their daily workout.
Peter came barreling out the Compound door, ready to start their run.
“C’mon, dinosaurs, are we going or not?”
“You’re hanging out with Sam too much,” Bucky replied, a hint of a smile on his face.
At breakfast, Peter asked just about every question he could think of about the vibranium arm.
“Holy hell, kid, it’s only 8:30,” Sam groaned. “How are you talking this much already?”
“I have to make up for all the words you’re not saying while you wake up,” Peter retorted.
Sam muttered a few profanities under his breath, standing from the dining table to refill his orange juice and grab something to eat. Just as he was reaching for the Cheerios box, Bucky snatched it away. Ignoring Sam’s finger he was gracefully showing, Bucky returned to his seat at the table and pushed the box towards Peter, then took a sip of his coffee.
“Oh, thanks!” Peter exclaimed, pouring more into his bowl.
Steve was staring at his childhood friend, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Shove it, Stevie.”
___
“What are you doing down here, kid? Everyone’s getting ready for game night.”
“I’ll be there in a second, Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed without turning to the man.
“Everyone’s fighting over which card to make wild, you’re missing the good stuff,” Tony mentioned. After he doesn’t respond, Tony made his way over to see what has captivated the kid’s attention. “Care to share with the class what is so important?”
“Oh, it’s just some reading stuff,” Peter fumbled.
Tony stood across the lab bench. “‘Reading… stuff,’” he deadpanned.
“Yeah, it’s just stuff I wanted to learn more about,” Peter responded, failing at nonchalance.
“Oh yeah?” Tony asked, scanning the headlines of the articles the kid was reading. “‘Electromyographic actuation in prosthetics?’ You know, I actually might know someone who knows about robotics. Pretty smart, even actually built an entire suit,” Tony teased.
“I don’t know, that seems kinda dated. I’m looking for the newest stuff,” Peter retorted.
“Hey!” Tony called, ruffling the kid’s messy hair in retaliation, raising a laugh out of both of them. “Seriously, what’s got you so interested in this? You know I’d be happy to help with whatever you want to build.”
“I don’t want to build anything,” Peter explained, “it’s more like repairing something that’s already made.” Tony raised his eyebrow, encouraging the boy to continue. “Um, Bucky is having some issues with his arm, and I was trying to figure it out. I fixed part of it, but I was just looking at stuff in case it happens again.”
Tony had a small look of shock on his face. “You mean, your extensive background of dumpster diving and repairing 90’s computers did not prepare you for this?”
“Mr. Stark,” Peter rolled his eyes in fake annoyance.
The older man smiled, but was quiet for a moment. “You’re helping Bucky with this?” he asked, quietly.
“Yeah. He didn’t ask, but it was kinda obvious it was bothering him.” Peter hesitated. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” Tony replied. “You know I’m not really… well, whatever I am. But that’s me, not you, kid. I know you can never stay out of helping someone who needs it.”
Peter laughed lightly and looked back down at the papers. “He is nice,” he said softly. “Well, he’s nice to me at least. I’m pretty sure he hates Sam.”
Tony chuckled at that. “Seriously, though. Just because I feel some type of way, doesn’t mean you have to. It’s good to have your own opinions.” Peter looked back up and offered a small nod. “Except when it comes to Spidey stuff, and then my word is law.”
Peter outwardly laughed and nodded again. “Of course, Mr. Stark.”
“Alright, that’s enough life lessons for the week,” Tony offered, making his way to the exit of the lab. Once Peter was tucked in his side, Tony teased “I hope you worked on your poker face, otherwise you’re going to lose your entire allowance in this game.”
“I don’t even have an allowance.”
___
A few weeks later, Tony trudged into the kitchen, desperate for a cup of coffee to wake him up. Sam was at the stove, cooking various types of breakfast food and failing to ignore the Bucky shaped shadow over his shoulder.
“Everyone’s gonna eat whatever the hell I’m gonna make, stop harassing me.”
“I’m just saying.”
“You’re ‘just saying’, what?” Sam banters, “You don’t even like chocolate, man, why are you bothering me about chocolate?”
“If you do it, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Fine, Jesus- ” Sam’s voice trailed as Tony made his way to the dining table.
About 10 minutes later, Peter waddles in, wearing a stolen sweatshirt of Tony’s. The boy offered a lazy grin, eyeing up the breakfast food already placed on the table.
Just then, Bucky brought in a stack of fresh pancakes and set them near the boy.
“Oh, chocolate chip is my favorite!” Peter exclaimed, shoveling a few on his plate.
Tony and Bucky shared a look. Tony hesitated, but nodded, a small smile creeping on the man’s face.