Superfamily One Shots

WoF Day 5: Frozen Peas

**Some Uncle Bucky, fluffy and cute, pinky swears, and there's very good chemistry history in there. Also, y'all, can we talk about poodles? This is a bizarre side note, I just really like standard size poodles. I think they're neat. Look at those little feet prancing about. Look at those cute eyes. Look at that curly fur, just like my curly hair! Woah, catch that Baseball Card Fact: I have curly hair. Anyways, I just think they're neat and I have really liked them for years, lol. That was my dog related rant, never mind me, just keep going to the chapter!**

Peter kept his head low as he got out of the elevator. With his bangs, which were due for a trim, and the hoodie, he should be able to make it through the living room and hall, and down to his room, without anyone noticing. It was a good thing his parents were out of town on business, seeing as they were the two most loving, smothering, cuddle-craving people in the world, and as soon as Peter got home from school, they were usually all over him.

"Home from school, Pete?"

The teen startled, peeking through his hair at the kitchen. Just Bucky.

"Yeah. Going to go do some homework." Bucky wasn't around too much, so he and Peter had never really gotten close. Hell, he'd only moved into the Tower in the last year. Peter didn't even know where the man's room was.

Bucky set down a plate with a little ding. "Hold your horses, kid, Tony said you need to eat after school and before patrol. I made you a sandwich."

Peter searched his brain for an excuse. "I'll take it to my room. Thank you. For the sandwich, I mean." The teen walked forward, still keeping his head down, and reached for the plate.

"Hmm," Bucky hummed, pulling it away. Something in the way Peter was acting, in the way he was standing, had set an alarm off in Bucky's brain. "I don't think so. Why don't you eat out here with me? I'm making myself some lunch anyways."

Peter peered over to the stove, careful to keep his hood as far forward as possible. "Spaghetti O's?"

"I like them," Bucky admitted with a shrug. "They would have made the war so much easier, all we had back then were beans."

Peter sighed, sitting at the kitchen island and beginning to eat.

"Going to take your hood down?" Bucky asked. Peter shook his head. "Is it because of that nasty bruise?"

Peter's head snapped up, his eyes wide and mouth agape. "How did you know?"

There, around Peter's left eye, was a dark bruise. The cheek bone under it was split, dried blood caked around the cut.

"You're worse than Steve, honestly. When he was younger, he used to do this thing where he'd steal his mother's make-up to cover the bruises. Only problem was, his mother used arsenic pills to make herself paler, and it was this huge white spot around his eye and-"

Peter cut him off. "Arsenic pills?"

Bucky laughed. "Yeah, they were really popular when Steve and I were kids. They were sold to make you paler, women used to take them as part of their make-up routines."

"That's insane," Peter muttered, biting into his sandwich.

"Anyways," Bucky continued, waving his hand in the air as he stirred the Spaghetti O's in the pot. "He used to try and hide the bruises under make-up, but I always knew. At first, I wanted him to tell me, like I didn't want to bring it up. Force it out of him. But later, when I realized he was never going to talk about it, I just asked. 'Who hit you?' and he told me it was this kid at school. Well, I took one swing and the kid was on the floor so-"

Peter huffed.

"Got something to add?"

"You hit the bully?" Bucky nodded. "Then weren't you just as bad as them? Like, I know bullies are bad, but they also usually have their own issues. I'm Spiderman, my whole life is about not hurting people. About looking out for people. How can you hit someone like that and not feel bad?"

Bucky thought for a moment. He did have a point, really, Bucky should feel bad about causing other people pain. He should feel bad about knocking that boy to the ground, who they found out later was being beat by his own father. He should, but he didn't.

"I think it's a self-preservation thing," Bucky shrugged. "First of all, he hurt Steve real bad, and secondly, he's dead by now, so there's no use in feeling bad. Not like I can apologize."

Peter snorted. "That's fair." The teen shoved the last of the sandwich into his mouth, chewing through the think bread and meat slowly.

"Wanna know my trick for getting bruises to fade quickly?" Bucky asked.

"Sure," Peter said, hopping off his stool and coming around to where Bucky was standing.

"Peas," the ex-assassin said. "Frozen peas. Get some out of the freezer and put them over your eye, it'll help."

Peter got the bag from the freezer and, feeling incredibly silly, pressed it to his eye. Almost instantly, relief flooded his face, and he let out a little sigh. "Holy shit."

Bucky laughed. "Yeah, it's a good trick right?"

Peter nodded.

"Wanna watch a movie?" Bucky poured his lunch into a bowel and carried it over to the living room, Peter trailing behind him with the frozen peas still pressed into his eye. "What are you feeling like?"

"Anything. What's your favorite?"

Bucky blushed a little. "It's not... I like this old Chaplin film, The Kid. It's silent, you won't like it."

Peter shrugged. "Sound okay to me. Besides, I want to hear more about the time of arsenic pills and vigilante bully justice."

"Sure you do," Bucky teased, searching for a bootleg of the movie on YouTube. "You say that until I show up at your school and beat whichever twerp did that to you to a pulp."

"Please don't," Peter said seriously. "I mean it, Bucky, it's really fine."

"It's not," the man responded, nearly cutting Peter off. "It's not fine, Pete. You're lucky your parents weren't here, or they'd already be down there, and it's taking everything in me to not go break that kid into pieces."

Peter scooted closer to Bucky, putting on his puppy-dog eyes and smiling teasingly. "Does that mean Bucky has a soft spot? That the Winter Soldier cares?"

Bucky shoved him back, a smile pulling at his lips. "Hey, under all this softness, I'm still a stone cold murderer."

"Sure you are," Peter said, rolling his eyes. The two watched the movie for a second, then Bucky spoke up again.

"I do care," he said softly, barely catching Peter's attention. "I care about you, Pete."

Peter smiled. "You know... I could use another Uncle."