Harmless (Bucky Barnes)

(xix)

"That thing's going to explode."

"Huh?"

"That thing's about to go nuclear. We just poisoned the entire city."

"What?"

______________

"Can someone please explain why there's Nicki Minaj playing through the comms right now?"

"It was Barnes' turn to pick the music."

In the middle of elbowing a guy in the face, Bucky smirks.

"You have no clue what's comin' up," Steve grunts as he backhands someone with the shield, effectively earning a nose bleed at the very least.

Steve knows. Steve's heard Bucky's music taste jump erratically all over the place, from decade to decade and genre to genre. He's had to listen to it all through the walls of their shared floor. If anything, he's only grateful that Bucky's out of his early 00s phase because if he had to hear Black Eyed Peas one more time at 3am, he'd consider jumping from his balcony.

"Can you stop screaming? I can't-" Bucky sends a guy flying across the room and into a pile of debris -"hear the song."

"Is that Neil Diamond?" Nat's question mixes in with the sound of the keyboard clicking. Her job had finished a while ago but she stuck around to extract beyond what was required of her.

"Oh, fuck yeah, I love this song," comes back Clint's voice from the basement.

Sweet Caroline changes a second later.

A scoff follows. "Fuck you, Jimothy."

He doesn't get to complain much once Megan Thee Stallion starts. Bucky can't tell if it's because he likes the new tune -he does have the choreography to it memorised- or because there's a sudden explosion from his side. Either way, it's distinctly Clint Barton.

Steve dropkicks someone in the stomach before engaging in a completely unnecessary full-body flip, slamming the shield into their chest and sending them sprawling.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Again with the drama, Steven."

Steve send him a middle finger in response. Bucky grins.

"Is Barton still alive?" Nat asks casually.

Someone shrieks and Steve turns around just in time to pull his shield up in time to avoid a cinder block to his face.

In other words: he's busy.

Bucky sighs. "I'll check."

He nonchalantly strolls over to the staircase, grabbing onto the creaky railing before throwing himself off it. Efficient, and easy.

He lands on his two feet, as agile as a cat, not bothering to hide as he surveyed the room.

Arrows stick out of every wall in the room, some on the ceilings in angles that shouldn't logically be possible. Bullet holes riddle the wooden table acting as a barricade, minutes away from giving away.

"Hey, jackass," Bucky calls out, drawing attention to himself. "You still alive?"

"Oh, Jesus, it's you again." An arrow knocks the gun out of the hand of one of the gunmen. "Why are you so obsessed with me?"

There are shouts as the new set of commands come in, an already chaotic room descending into complete mayhem at the arrival of the newest member.