Chapter 1
Steve woke up shivering so hard his teeth hurt. Not for the first time he cursed the fact that he hadn’t died in that plane crash because despite the fact that he’d survived sometimes all Steve could feel was the bone deep ache of cold. It seeped under his skin, left him shuddering even when he cranked the heat up so hot he was sweating - he still couldn’t keep the shivers from wracking his frames.
It was worse when he spent too much time alone - despite the fact that sometimes he needed solitude to get his thoughts in order. He knew everyone thought he’d been adjusting really well - knew that he could usually put on a good front and act like he was taking everything in stride. Usually he could - usually it wasn’t just an act - but sometimes he needed to take some time because sometimes things were just a little too weird. Even for him. Which was ironic considering he was the weird one out here - the one in a time he didn’t belong to. The one who couldn’t die.
Another full body shiver wracked his frame and Steve pushed himself out of bed, yanking on clothes and grabbing his jacket. It was mid summer and he knew he didn’t really need it - but apparently in the future it was normal to be different and he knew nobody would look twice at him for his extra layer as long as he didn’t do anything to draw extra attention to himself.
Sometimes he missed being 90 pounds soaking wet. Nobody had looked twice at him then. There were times when he could really use that.
He left his apartment, wandering out into the night and glad that at least there weren’t many people out at this hour.
While there were a lot of things he didn’t miss about the 40s, he missed the fact that the city he’d always seen as his wasn’t even somewhere he recognized anymore. None of the neighbourhoods looked the same - none of the shops still existed. Nothing tasted like it had. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to be so judgmental - after all there were a lot of great things about the future - like vaccinations - but at the moment all he could feel was bitter. Another shiver worked through him, and it felt like his bones were so brittle they would break.
“You alright, mate? You look like a stiff breeze could knock you over.” the words jolted Steve out of his thoughts and he looked over to see a man looking at him with concern, and not a hint of recognition.
“You don’t know who I am.” and he didn’t know why he blurted it out but he was so relieved and also just completely thrown off because most people looked at him and saw a symbol of strength, never his weakness. The words had the man quirking a brow in surprise though his bright green eyes flooded with amusement. Steve’s fingers itched for his pencils. He wondered if he’d ever be able to get that shade right.
“Why don’t you come in?” he offered, and even as Steve registered the accent he realized they were in front of a shop - a coffee shop in fact. “I was just about to start up the baking, and I make a mean hot chocolate.” Steve couldn’t help but be immeasurably grateful that this man knew he needed warmth despite the already oppressive humidity. Even as he stepped forward though he hesitated, wary now as he regarded the man. He looked harmless enough - just a bit below average height with wild black hair and those bright green eyes. He was lanky but looked solid enough, with sharp, aristocratic features. The man wasn’t waiting for him though - wasn’t pressuring him to join. He’d already gone inside, leaving the door slightly ajar so Steve would know he was welcome. Considering the fact that the last thing he wanted right now was to be alone, Steve just followed his weird gut feeling and went inside. The man was already behind the counter, coaxing a machine to life, and barely a minute later he was sliding a mug across the counter to Steve, waiving him towards a stool.
“Grab a seat. I’ve got to get started. Then perhaps, if you’d like, you can tell me just what had you wandering the streets of New York at 3am.” Steve offered a tired smile, pulling the mug towards him and taking a cautious sip. The warmth slipped through him immediately, chasing away some of the cold, and he slumped in relief.
It took another few sips for Steve to register just what the man had said in greeting - another almost embarrassing minute after that for Steve to stiffen and stand so quickly that the stool fell back. The crash didn’t even register though - he was already moving, pushing open the doors to a kitchen with more force than he meant to - but he just couldn’t believe this man had said those words.
“I thought I was supposed to meet you before.” Before the serum. Before the crash. Before, well everything, really. The man’s brow just quirked though a wary smile spread across his features from where he’d stood looking lost until Steve had burst in.
“And I thought you were some aristocratic, pureblooded, ponce.” Steve blinked at that, having no idea just what the man meant. Noticing his confusion, some of the wariness seemed to fade from the man’s features. “But it seems we were both mistaken. I would like to point out that while I may have no idea who you are, you have no idea who I am either.” and the words had Steve blushing. He hadn’t meant to sound quite like that.
“I meant no offence.” Steve quickly apologized. “It’s just - well - ever since I got back - people have made a bit of a big deal about it.” he shrugged helplessly, almost wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. God but this was embarrassing. He was stopped by a hand on his arm, and when he looked up, the man’s eyes were warm and kind.
“Why don’t we start over.” He suggested, and Steve nodded quickly. “My name’s Harry.”
“Steve.” was the immediate response. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time.” he blurted then, and that earned him another look of surprise.
“You don’t look nearly old enough to have been waiting for long.” was the gentle response, and Steve winced.
“Well, considering I was born in 1918.” the man - Harry - just looked at him before he burst out laughing, and the warmth in his gaze chased away the last of the cold.
“Now that’s definitely a story I have to hear.” but there was no disbelief there. No judgment.
For the first time since he’d woken up, Steve found himself wanting to share.
>>>
“Bloody hell.” Harry muttered, but amusement danced in his eyes even as dropped onto the couch beside Steve. Upon the confirmation that they were, in fact, soulmates, Harry had posted a note in the cafe door proclaiming them closed for the day, and invited Steve back to his apartment right above the shop. Steve, desperate to know more about this man that was fated for him - a man who hadn’t even been born until he’d been in the ice for decades and wasn’t that an almost cruel twist of fate - had easily accepted the invitation.
Steve shook his head, not really sure how to respond to that. After all, if he hadn’t lived it, he might not have believed the story he’d just told. Whatever his expression was obviously amused Harry further because the man chuckled.
“Well, it’s just, of course you’re some sort of hero.” Harry admitted, rolling his eyes. And that sparked Steve’s interest.
“What do you mean?”
“What would you say if I told you you weren’t the only unusual person around?” Steve’s thoughts immediately flew to the rest of the Avengers - to Tony, Bruce, Thor - even Natasha and Clint.
“That the future is a very diverse place.” His nearly quoted line earned him a laugh and Steve couldn’t help but relax at the sound.
“That’s certainly one way to put it.” Harry waved a hand in the air and for a moment Steve saw a flash of insecurity - but then his gaze was drawn to the tea pot that was floating to the coffee table followed by two cups, the milk, and the sugar. He knew he was staring but Steve couldn’t help himself.
In the early hours of the morning he’d found his soulmate and was learning that he what - had some sort of magic?
“What are you?” and Steve winced at his own lack of tact. Harry fidgeted nervously on his end of the couch but offered a tentative smile.
“I’m a wizard.” and realistically that also wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever heard.
“Is it just - for household things?” and he knew he sounded sceptical. Harry’s smile grew ever so slightly.
“Not at all. There’s tons of uses for magic.”
“Would you - would you be willing to show me?”
“Of course.” but even as Harry agreed, Steve was shaking his head.
“Not just the magic.” he admitted, feeling embarrassed but also in a strange way, needy. Everything he had didn’t really belong to him - everything he had either belonged to SHIELD, or Tony - not that Tony would ever say that, in fact he’d be offended if Steve so much implied it - but it didn’t change the fact that the only things that Steve had really claimed as his - the things he’d earned all of his own merit - had disappeared back in the 40s.
He watched recognition light in Harry’s eyes before the smaller man reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal a surprisingly toned torso. Then there, at the bottom of his ribs, curved Steve’s words.
You don’t know who I am
He didn’t really remember crossing the couch, but Harry stayed absolutely still, watching Steve carefully. The blonde just reached out tentative fingers after a quick glance up at Harry’s face for permission, brushed his fingers against the words. The jolt of electricity startled them both and from this close, when Steve looked back at Harry’s face when the man let his shirt drop, he caught sight of the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
“I was always surprised by them, to be honest.” Harry admitted then, not quite meeting Steve’s gaze. “You see, where I’m from, everyone knew who I was. Part of the reason I moved to America.”
“You know we don’t actually call it that.” Steve found himself saying despite himself, and Harry laughed outright, finally meeting his gaze once more.
“Oh is that so? And just what do they call you again? Captain America, wasn’t it? I don’t believe it was Captain of the United States of America.” Steve rolled his eyes. “May I - may I see yours?” Harry requested then, tentative, and Steve flushed. It wasn’t that he was opposed, but the words were on the back of his shoulder and there was no easy way to show it without taking off his shirt.
But then he looked at Harry - at the way he seemed to fold into himself ever so slightly - disappointment but also acceptance - as if he wasn’t surprised that someone would pull back from him. That - that wasn’t something Steve could allow.
He stood and shrugged off his jacket, laying it carefully over the back of the couch. Then, before he could lose his nerve, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off over his head, turning to show his own words.
He didn’t miss Harry’s sharp intake of breath, and jolted at the soft brush of fingertips across his words. When Harry let out a breathless laugh, he turned back, shirt still in his hands. From this close, Steve realized he could probably tuck Harry right in against him, and judging by the flush of Harry’s cheeks, he’d realized the same thing. His gaze jumped up to meet Steve’s own, and he didn’t bother hiding his pleased smile. This was his soulmate after all, he was allowed to be glad that the other man found him attractive. Harry offered a wry smile.
“I can see why you would’ve thought your soulmate was from before. If you really were as small as you say.”
“Smaller than you.” he confirmed. He watched Harry’s gaze dart over him, the pink still in his cheeks, and grinned. Then Harry cleared his throat, trying to back up and making a sound of surprise when the backs of his knees caught on the couch and he nearly toppled back. If it hadn’t been for Steve’s hand on his arm, he probably would have. Now Harry scowled at him, blushing full force once more.
“Perhaps now would be a good time to put your shirt back on.” and since Steve did actually want to keep spending time with the other man, he obliged, though he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t make a bit of a show of it.
When he settled back on the couch, much closer than he had the first time, feeling emboldened by Harry’s reactions, the slighter man rolled his eyes but his expression was fond.
“Will you tell me more about your magic?” Steve asked then, because now that it was a possibility he was practically giddy for it. Bucky would’ve been thrilled. He’d always enjoyed anything like that - said science and magic were practically the same, just depended on how much we knew about it - and the thought of his childhood best friend didn’t bring the same ache it had before. “Are there, spells? Can you do everything just by waving your hand?” and before Steve’s very eyes, a stick appeared in Harry’s hands, and his smile was infectious.
“Actually, we use foci to cast magic. This is my wand.” he could practically see the leer Tony would give, hear the innuendo, but he shook the thought off, eyes rapt on Harry. The smaller man grinned, and with a flick of his wrist, all of the objects around the room started to float - almost dance around. Steve couldn’t help himself, he laughed.
“Show me more?” and Harry’s grin was bright with promise.
“Of course. Anything you’d like.”