Bucky Barnes Fucks His Boss, And Other Challenges Of Command (слэш)

“Okay,” That Idiot Parker acknowledged, hands together at his mouth like he was about to start praying. “So I take full responsibility for this situation.”
“Oh,” Bucky snarled, “great.” His wrist plates clicked up and down as he shifted his grip on the damn rifle, now smeared in grit, blood, and dog spit. Dog spit. The headache pounding at his temples blossomed into a full explosion right behind his eyes. “Don’t worry,” he assured Peter, blinking back the pain, “I already blamed you way before this point.”