A little stucky high school AU for firstavcnger. Hope you like it!
Steve really didn’t want to be in school. It was such a waste of time. Besides, he was dying for a cigarette. He knew a smoke wouldn’t help his asthma, but tell that to his addiction. Steve slumped on his desk in the back corner, using his book as a pillow and doodling on the plastic top. He glanced around the room, surveying his classmates. Who was that kid up there? Steve didn’t recognize him. He’d remember a face like that.
“Barnes, James?” the teacher called, peering over her glasses, taking attendance.
“Here, ma’am,” the kid said, absently hitting his pencil against the table in a catchy rhythm. “Could ya call me Bucky?” he asked. “James doesn’t really suit me,” he continued with a smile that tugged one corner of his mouth higher than the other.
The teacher nodded and made a note on her seating chart. “Carlson, Adam?” She continued checking off names on her clipboard, while Steve continued looking at the new kid, his doodles turning into a quick portrait. “Rogers, Steve?”
“What?” Steve shot up, knocking over the book on his desk with his skinny, tattooed arms.
“Are we interrupting you, Mr. Rogers?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, pencil posed over his name.
“Steve is fine,” he replied automatically. “Uh, shi-uger, sorry, I’m here.” He blushed, full body going red.
After class, Steve shouldered his backpack, fumbling in his pockets for a cigarette, one earbud dangling. He headed for the door, one that a lot of kids used to get to class, but he didn’t care about them. Let him look at him in disgust. He knew he was ruining his lungs, but with his health, another strike didn’t really matter.
“Of course,” Steve muttered. No lighter.
“You all right?” Steve turned, seeing that kid, Bucky.
Steve coughed. “Yeah, I’m fine, unless you got a light.”
Bucky shook his head. “Don’t smoke, sorry.” He shifted his weight, and Steve noticed all the books he was carrying. Advanced Bio, Calc II, nothing easy. Steve would’ve pegged him for a dumb jock; Bucky carried himself was with the same confidence of the football players who’d taken one too many hits to the head, but clearly he was wrong.
“Hey, what period do you have Calc?” Steve asked, shoving his cigarettes back into the pocket of his skinny jeans.
“I have it next, with Pearson,” Bucky said, running his hand through his messy black hair.
“Heard anything about her?” Bucky asked. “I’m new here; wanna know what’s up before I get there.”
“Heard she’s a real stickler for tardies,” Steve snorted.
Bucky smiled the same uneven grin as before. “C’mon, let’s not give her a reason to hate us on the first day. I think you already got that down with Perez first period.”
Steve shook his head, blond hair getting in his eyes. “That bad, huh?”
“She’ll get over it. Let’s go, the bells gonna ring in a minute or two.”
