Hello, my name is Steve Rogers --Better known as Captain America Yes...The Captain America - and I...Well, I slept for a really long time,
70 years to be accurate.
I can not deny that it is hard to get used to the new world and the new culture, but at least I'm not alone anymore and
my friends my family; The Avengers, are helping me.
I know we can manage everything together and we will keep this beautiful planet safe.
[This is a Captain America multi-verse RP-Blog, I ship everything as long as the backstory fits. My favorite ships are Stony and Bucky/Steve Steve/Peggy. AU-Relationships are gladly welcome. I own none of the pictures I'll post on this blog.]
Bucky blinked at the question, caught off guard, but the grin slipped back twice as bright. Sometimes, away from the backbreaking work on the docks or the piss-scented alleyways, Bucky was a damn dreamer and it was always the brunet that insisted one day Steve would make a real name as an artist. A rags-to-riches story, discovered from selling drawings in the street that would sell for hundreds of dollars in later years.
Drawing was, according to a handful of people, not Bucky’s forte but Steve had talent beyond hauling heavy things like a horse.
It meant that Steve could think about something else about their argument too and could practice like Bucky was always insisting. Settling back on the couch, the man eventually stopped fidgeting. They talked about the future rarely, mostly stuck trying to earn enough money for the next day, but when they had peaceful moments, Bucky liked to dream and to envision years where they didn’t have to fight to survive. It was always the two of them, though. Both of them still living together until they were old and grey; luckily, no-one had pressed the point that they should have settled down by then.
There were plenty of decent dames around, but Bucky was known as a skirt chaser and none of them ever made the man think about watching that same woman walk down the aisle. It wasn’t a bad thing. Lots of other guys avoided commitment and clearly, Bucky was the same.
"So, how’d you want me? ‘Course, both sides are my good sides."
No matter how much Steve would have loved to believe that in the future, he would have a beautiful, loving wife and children, he knew better than that. He wasn’t the kind of men who should set any children in this world, and even if he would do it, god only knows if they would survive long enough.
Picturing his future with Bucky was way more fun, anyway. It was easy to get lost in Bucky’s dream. Listen to him talk about the mansion they would live in, sometimes it’s even a vila. Listen to how many cars they would have and how everyone would be standing in line just to see steve and shake the hand that ‘creates magic’.
Bucky was known for his exaggerations, but Steve never bothered with pointing out anything, the idea of a future was more than enough to make him happy.
Of course he knew that sooner or later one of the dames Bucky surrounded himself with would steal his heart but… He hoped it wouldn’t happen too soon. A life without Bucky… It just seemed too early. They should have some ‘them’ time, too, right?
"Sorry to break it to you, pal, but none of your sides are anywhere near good." He stood up and took one of the pillows of the couch before he put it on the floor in front of the little couch table they had standing around and sat down opposite to Bucky.
”Tell me about the car you’ll be driving in less than five years…” He enjoyed the sound of Bucky’s voice, it was the closest thing to ‘home’ that he had left and… Truth be told, he felt uncomfortable just staring at Bucky and drawing him in complete silence.
The joy on Steve’s face is worth every damn callous and drop of sweat that Bucky has shed to save up for it. Eyes transfixed on the smile that Steve so rarely had a reason truly use, the older man shifts closer, shrugging a little at the exclamation. Steve wasn’t to worry too much about the money spent; it was a damn present and a chance to forget all about those problems, just for one day.
It was one of their first Christmas days spent, just the two of them. Not quite the holiday at the orphanage, where Jesus’ birthday was truly celebrated as the nuns collected as much money and charity as possible to provide religious presents. This day was quieter than they had ever experienced it and Bucky wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
"Not expensive, was gonna be thrown out anyway."
The kiss caused Bucky to blink, freezing a little. That wasn’t what men usually did, not the ones that weren’t kicked the crap out of by cops and mocked as they walked into their special bars anyway. Except they were in private now and no-one would see. No need to jerk away or pass it off as a joke
it was probably a mistake anyway, an impulse from the happiness.
Not that Bucky was hoping for anything more.
Smile softer now, though no less bright, the man huffed with laughter at the thought.
"Could teach you to actually dance for once, since you’ve got two left feet." The thought was warming, the idea of
“Can’t keep steppin’ on a dame’s feet.” Interrupting that train of thought, Bucky crouched down, fiddling with the dials to get some tinny music to filter through.
Steve was waiting for the dance partner, that’s all. Someone who did not try to keep him on arms length just in case he had anything that could be spread ——And not someone who stared at Bucky all the time. All the dames Bucky had introduces Steve to, never really cared about him but… Guess what?
Steve didn’t care, either.
He smiled, was polite and enjoyed life as much as possible while he still could.
The fact that he shouldn’t have kissed Bucky was nothing new to him but there was no way he was going to take it back.
It was not awkward as long as you didn’t make it awkward, right? And Bucky obviously didn’t mind it. It’s not like this was going to lead to Steve doing it more often or anything, no.
Today was a special day.
The young man nodded quickly, already standing in the middle of the room and waiting for Bucky to find a radio channel with some music. “You always make it sound like I am the worst dancer on this planet, Bucks, I’m not really that bad.” Okay… He was, but again, not the point.
Truth be told, Steve had no idea if he was about to have a heart attack or if he was fine. His heart was beating so fast and so hard that he could hear all the blood rushing through his ears when he slid from one side of their small apartment to the other one, humming the melody of whichever song was probably playing underneath all those weird radio-noises which Bucky absolutely failed at filtering out.
Guess who just crawled out of their little hideout after that amazing trailer?!
Bucky’s hands are calloused, now, and sometimes still sore from the construction site
but taking on extra jobs would always be worth it. They need to get through the winter and Bucky learned long ago that it was better to be safe than sorry; most of the spare money went to Steve’s present, but a lot is being hoarded in a rainy day pile in case there’s a bout of flu that could kill the scrawny man.
For now, though, Bucky can ignore all of that. Their stomachs are satisfyingly full and the cold is left on the doorstep for now.
Steve is smiling brighter than ever and it sends a happy ache through Bucky’s body. Through the struggle that their lives are, it’s those things that remind Bucky why they keep on fighting.
"Merry Christmas, Steve."
It’s taken months of saving, of squirreling away lunch money and work for the local bars, but Steve’s present is tucked under Bucky’s cot in their bedroom. The radio is ancient, but Bucky has polished the battered wood to a shine and Mrs Cooper sold it for a damn cheap price since the ‘old ears’ had no need for music anymore.
Feet propped up on the sofa, Bucky peels back the newspaper layers, grin stretching. Without hesitation, the man sets down the gifts and tugs Steve into a clumsy hug.
"Thanks, buddy. Gonna stay warm whilst everyone else freezes their asses off. An’ you know, you’re art’s just getting better. Next Picasso, Steve Rogers. Now close your eyes." Drawing away, Bucky slips off quickly into the bedroom, dragging the radio onto the creaking table by Steve’s elbow. "There. Open."
Steve doesn’t ever think about how they might need money for his medicine one day — Bucky has always taken care of it and although there are days when they don’t have enough to eat, that Steve feels horrible about living like a parasite glued to Bucky, he knows better than to ever speak it out.
They are family, and Steve would sell his kidney - if anyone would want it at this point - if it meant he could keep Bucky healthy and safe.
The hug was worth everything. Steve leaned into it, arms wrapping around the broad shoulders of Bucky while he nuzzled his face against the other one and chuckled softly. He could happily live without getting anything in return as long as Bucky was around and gave him hugs like this.
Yet he did as told, nodded and closed his eyes, a small smile on his face and a soft flush on his cheeks. Bucky always complimented Steve’s drawing, he sometimes even said that one day Steve would be the one earning all the money by selling his art.
Bucky is a dreamer when it comes to things like that, and Steve can’t help it but dream along. Think about better days…
When Bucky returns with his present and tells Steve to open his eyes, the smaller one is starring, eyes gone wide before he tenderly ran a finger over the edge of the radio.
“How…?” He whispered, his heart running a mile before he chuckled. “This must have been incredible expensive, Bucky!” And yet he couldn’t help it but drag his best friend closer to himself to place a small kiss on his cheek.
"Finally we can listen to music while being at home! —This is beautiful."
You are beautiful.
They don’t have a Christmas tree, nor is their apartment decorated, but… Back in these days, Christmas is a holiday for the rich.
Yet Steve had tried to make them something nice for their Christmas Dinner. They had meat, potatoes, and even some pudding.
That’s more than they usually had and it was more than enough.
Once the dishes were washed and it was time for exchanging presents, Steve couldn’t wait but beg Bucky to open his present first.
"Merry Christmas, Bucky!" His eyes are beaming and his whole face is lit up in happiness.
Steve had started working a few months ago, and although he wasn’t making too much money, he saved his first loan to get a present for Bucky.
Deep down Steve had wished that he could have afforded new shoes for the man or something big and shiny, but… ——A sweater and a self made card with a christmas tree drawn on the front and a message inside, wrapped into newspaper paper should work, too, right?
The laugh was honest this time, tension oozing out of Bucky’s bones with the first huff of laughter. When Steve smiled, Bucky could help but mirror it. As different as they were in appearance and personality, there were times that they were just one half of a whole. The entire neighbourhood knew that they had been joined at the hip since they were kids and none of that was a lie in the least.
"Even in that tiny thing, I look like a damn stud. Thought you weren’t the kinda guy to lie, Steve."
Bucky nudged Steve in return, but was careful to keep it light. They rough housed sometimes and Bucky knew not to handle the scrawnier man with kid gloves lest that hurt and frustrated expression be provoked, but the man valued keeping Steve alive over avoiding a lecture.
"Her old man’s freaking out, givin’ every fella the stink eye as if we’re all in on it. Think the old birds downstairs would have a fit."
Steve feels his whole body ease after hearing Bucky laugh. There is nothing more beautiful on this planet, more calming and more powerful than hearing and seeing the closest person to you laugh and smile and be happy…
He would have loved to just wrap his arms around his friend, hold him and value that moment as long as it lasted, but he knew better than to do this.
Especially after the one time Bucky thought Steve was seriously going to die when he randomly hugged his friend. — Bucky was filled up with drama from his head till down to his toes.
"Wouldn’t surprise me."
Everything was fine. They were fine. And… They could laugh. Steve didn’t need more than Bucky —— and his medication… — in this life. Of course he claimed to that he was waiting for the right dame, the one person, but… He wouldn’t miss her if he would never meet her.
Catching himself delving in thoughts, he quickly jumped off the couch and walked over to their little bookshelf, getting his notebook from there.
"Can I draw your stupid, smiling face? I could hold it up whenever you are frowning and pretend you are smiling."
Not weird at all.
” Sure, why not. ”
The discomfort was a general side effect of knowing Tony Stark. Not just knowing his name, or having met him in passing or between the sheets. It was being - dare he say it - a friend. It came with a whole slew more cons than pros. Maybe because Tony didn’t exactly do friends that weren’t computer programmed. Or maybe because being his friend meant knowing there was something else under all the crap but only seeing it once in a blue moon.
” You passed the interrogation.
I do however, reserve the right to change my mind,
on whim. ”
If Tony would ever point it out and call Steve a friend, using exactly those words, he probably wouldn’t feel as uncomfortable as he did at the very moment. It was the whole uncertainty and not knowing what Stark was about to do next, that got under Steve’s skin in the worst possible way.
After all he could decide to try out a few new weapons on him, see how hard he could be punched before he broke a bone, etc.
Tony Stark represented the future, didn’t he? And Steve? Steve represented the past. Being nervous around the guy who creates high tech super armors and other things seems like the only healthy reaction.
Steve blinked, confusion still written all over his features before he sighed one more time and shook his head, dropping the topic completely.
“Would you be up for some training today? Once you are done re-creating your perfect chaos, of course?”