[for Various] Steve Rogers' Birthday

[onlyapassenger]

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!]

Comments

[wasafreak]

"Ow," Teddy says loudly, then presses his lips together into a line for a moment, "thank you, Kate, yes, again, the jaw-wired-shut, crutches-for-months, watching-Billy-cry thing sort of took care of that message but the punch was a much needed reminder."

He sighs and looks down at where he slopped most of his drink over his knuckles and shoe. Kate's punches mean something.

[learnfromthem]

My own drink is as much on the ground as it is in my glass, and I turn, quickly, to grab some napkins. I keep my expression shut off, guarded. This isn't the place for a confession of my own, though some part of me can't help but think it'd be appropriate.

Pretty much all of these people were there when Cassie and Jonas died, and not one of them remembers it.

"Here."

[wasafreak]

"....What happened after Eli fired that arrow, Kate?" Teddy asks quietly, after a few moments of silence between them, accepting the napkins but not bother to do anything with them.

[learnfromthem]

"We're at a party," I say, like that matters. The excuse sounds weak even to me, so I take the opportunity to dry off my hands. It feels better to move, to do something other than just stand here and keep lying through omission.

I look down, angry at myself and knowing it shows. But I can't not look at him, so I force myself to meet his eyes, holding his gaze as long as I can stand it.

"I screwed up."