Bucky Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
onlyapassenger) wrote2013-07-04 03:40 pm
onlyapassenger) wrote2013-07-04 03:40 pm
[for Various] Steve Rogers' Birthday
Memorial Day had passed by with little more than a couple of a beers and a five minute conversation, but Bucky'll be damned if he lets Steve's birthday go the same way. Even during the darkest days of the War, birthdays were always given the special treatment; hell, Toro once blew their cover making sure Bucky had a good one. The gruelling grind of the past couple of months is still fresh in body and mind, but in the simple preparation for the day's get-together, Bucky's found some semblance of peace.
He's not much of a party animal -- he's not even much of a planner -- but things fall into place easily enough. They set up in and around Steve's place, that nice bar of his getting some use for once. There are a couple of goats spinning on a spit outside, courtesy of Thor, and a more traditional grill manned by Bucky himself. Platters of cheeses and fruits and vegetables line a table covered in a red, white and blue tablecloth, and there's more than enough flag-themed birthday cake to go around (strawberries, blueberries, and whipped cream make up the familiar stars and stripes, doubling as both food and decoration). Music from Steve's youth plays in the background out of borrowed speakers, and in lieu of streamers, there's a banner that stretches over the front door of his house that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLD MAN.
It's not a lot, but it's something.
[Open to Marvels, significant others/close friends of Marvels, and any assorted friends of Steve. This post will be linked to the main community on July 4th. Slated post here. ST/LT welcome!]
He's not much of a party animal -- he's not even much of a planner -- but things fall into place easily enough. They set up in and around Steve's place, that nice bar of his getting some use for once. There are a couple of goats spinning on a spit outside, courtesy of Thor, and a more traditional grill manned by Bucky himself. Platters of cheeses and fruits and vegetables line a table covered in a red, white and blue tablecloth, and there's more than enough flag-themed birthday cake to go around (strawberries, blueberries, and whipped cream make up the familiar stars and stripes, doubling as both food and decoration). Music from Steve's youth plays in the background out of borrowed speakers, and in lieu of streamers, there's a banner that stretches over the front door of his house that reads HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OLD MAN.
It's not a lot, but it's something.
[Open to Marvels, significant others/close friends of Marvels, and any assorted friends of Steve. This post will be linked to the main community on July 4th. Slated post here. ST/LT welcome!]
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"Okay, I'll give you sincere," I say, nodding. "That one's fair. Not a whole lot of sincerity among the rich and famous."
My eyes narrow a little at his drink. "Wait, does that have--?"
Foot in mouth, Kate, foot in mouth. I clear my throat.
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"--weird," I say under my breath and around my straw. I have some tact. I know better than to ask, even if the question is right at the tip of my tongue. Pausing a second, I fish around for a change in subject.
"Did you see the sharktopus?"
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"Did I see- yes," he said. "I saw the sharktopus. I saw... a lot of the sharktopus. I am still cleaning sharktopus out of crevices."
He paused. "...of the suit."
And again. "Mostly of the suit."
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"...ew."
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"Sounds messy."
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