Chapter 3
The alarm clock rang and Steve turned it off immediately. He didn’t rise, though—but didn’t go back to sleep either. He lay still, his eyes wild open and wildly questioned his recent life choices. It’s a bad idea, he thought. After several seconds, he shook his head and grabbed his phone to check the time. His... appointment was at eleven. Maria had agreed to come get him at half past ten. It was nine past a few minutes. He turned on his back, facing the ceiling. He had plenty of time to get ready. Plenty of time to mull over this whole story. He groaned.
"This is really stupid. I'm stupid!" he shouted, finally rising.
Next stop: the bathroom. He needed to take a long, really long and hot shower.
***
Here, the alarm clock had rung a long time ago already. Sam needed to be at the VeteransCenter at nine and since Bucky didn't have a job yet, he used to cook him breakfast. A way to show him his support. Also, Bucky had long lost the habit of sleeping well into the morning. Instead, he liked going to the gym or just for a run around the block. Not today, though. Today he had, well, it was hard to define, so let's settle for 'meeting' - at eleven. He didn't want to arrive there all sweaty and smelly. He looked at his face on the mirror. It was foggy because of the hot shower he had just taken but he had opened a window right after it and the fog was starting to fade. Using his single hand, Bucky was gently drying his hair with a white towel. His hair was most certainly a mess. But he liked it that way. Especially, he liked it long. It distracted people from his missing arm. As it had been a few years already, he was used to it but sometimes, the people's stares were just too much. He hoped the meeting would go fine. At least, Nat would be there. And even right here in his home because she was going to accompany him.
***
Steve left the shower, even grumpier than when he had entered it, and he moved towards the kitchen to open the cupboard quite roughly. His canvas, though some feet away, seemed to be weighing on his shoulders and it itched at him, not facing it. It was almost as if he feltjudged by the painting. So he glared back at it and bithis spoon full of cereals.
***
Bucky was ready. A nice pair of jeans, obviously tight where due, a purple shirt and a big pull-over around his neck. He was absolutely ready but he was completely too early, too. He sat down on the couch, thinking about reading. Or watching TV. Anything that would help him waste time while preventing his anxious mind from wandering.Because no need to think about the meeting. No need to stress. Nope.Not at all. Just relax.
Worst case scenario, he would simply feel terrible for the rest of the day.
***
"Steve, for God's sake, seriously?"
Maria was roaming all over his place while he sulked against the wall, near the front door.
"You're not even dressed!"
He didn’t look at her. She sighed and moved towards him and gently put her hands on his shoulders.
"What's happening? Why are you not ready yet?"
He shrugged.
"I don't feel like going anymore. That's all."
She didn't reply. But her eyes didn't leave him. They stayed like that, fixated on him for a few moments before Steve pushed her away.
"Okay! FINE. I'll get ready!"
The policewoman patiently waited near the front door—as Steve didn't think to close his bedroom's door (he never did). The blond man reappeared shortly after that with some pants on and a button-up shirt. No tucked properly in the pants. Not even buttoned up properly. Maria bit her mouth tostop herself from saying something. Finally, they put their masks on and left Steve's flat to start walking towards the Irish bar.
Steve didn't speak once during that short time. Behind his apathetic face, his heart was starting to beat faster. Bucky used to be friend with Nat—and was again apparently. This meant something. At the very least, he couldn't be all that bad of a person. Point on case, he was gay and beautiful. No, hold down. Not every gay person was a saint. What if Bucky didn't like him? Besides, Nat was naive during High School—she told him that herself—so maybe she would deem Bucky problematic now. Bucky was disabled and that was damn petty of him to think like that.
"Steve?"
He got startled. When he calmed down, he could see Maria holding the door of the bar for him. He held his elbow to prevent his hand from touching it and they stepped inside. There were less people than last time. They immediately saw where Bucky and Nat were—same place than last time. Steve's heart raced even faster and louder and he maniacally tried to wipe the sweat off of his hands on his jeans. Nat was waving enthusiastically at them. Bucky who faced the other side had to turn around to see them.He was simply smiling. Steve was absolutely red, wasn't he? Someone end this nightmare.
"Hi, Bucky, nice to meet you.” said Maria while shaking his hand. “I mean, again. It's been such a long time."
"It has, indeed. We'll need to catch up on that later."
"Definitely!"
Bucky moved so Maria could go sit next to him, near the windows and facing her girlfriend. Steve sat tooand gotto be besides the redhead, in front of Bucky.He and Maria could finally take off their masks. In the heat of the room it was a relief.
"So, what were you guys talking about before we interrupted you?" he asked as a way of distracting the attention from himself.
Bucky leaned back on his seat.
"Oh, just Biden's program. I think Nat's too kind on him. He's certainly not a leftist and definitely not the best man for this country."
Steve’s clenched his jaws.
"So let's just vote for Trump; that’s what you’re saying, right?"
The man's face closed down.
"What I’m saying is, we need to get that orange danger out of the White House ASAP but we mustn't believe Biden will be automatically better."
"Over here, please!" shouted Natasha who half-rose from her seat to wave to the bartender.
The two men stopped talking as the person came to their table. Their eyes fell on the two of them and flared.
"If you two are here to fight..." they started, their voice deep and growling.
"No, we're not" said Barnes immediately. "And as a matter of fact, I wanted to apologize for last time. I'll make sure it will never happen again."
The bartender growled but seemed to take the apology as genuine. Steve eyed Bucky with circumspection. He seemed like the sweet guy. What for? So Steve could pass for the rude one? Like he was the one who started the fight? Nu-uh.
"I want to apologize too. And er, may I say, thank you for letting us come back. I really enjoy this bar."
This time, the barperson had a smile.
"Thanks! So, what can I get you?"
They ordered their usual drinks and at the last second, Steve remembered the pancakes and asked for some. He had just finished his breakfast but right now, he was craving sugar.
"So, James told me he was helping at a VeteransCenter," said Natasha smiling with all her willpower as she was trying not to kick either of her two friends andBucky took the bait.
"Well, you know, like you said, I'm just helping. It's not an every day thing, it's more like.. If I can make a little change, you know?"
"I see what you mean" Steve chimed in. "I also volunteer sometimes, in schools. I like to... kinda inspire the young generation. Or, like, just showing them that queer people can have a life as fulfilling as anyone else."
"Oh, it's like what I do at the center but reverse: I'm here to show soldiers they can have a civil life again. But I love going to Pride. I'm not old yet but I think it's important to show up, still. Too bad it's been canceled this year."
"You know, I see it more like the parade has been canceled, but not the pride. I like to think that our Pride is standing besides our black siblings, and to support the BLM movement.”
For several more minutes, they kept ranting about social justice, equality for all, education at all levers, all those lovely and admirable ideas that, albeit they truly believed in, were used on this momentas a show-off tool. Like two peacocks in a court. They were so absorbed in that ridiculous debate they forgot to drink. Meanwhile, Natasha had finished her second vokda and Maria was calmly eating the pancakes Steve didn’t even look at.
"Wow, you guys can be such pricks" she stated finally. “Reminds me why I started dating gals.”
The two men were so surprised they shut up and stared at the policewoman.
"No, like, seriously” she said. “What is that? The contest of who has the biggest one? Men! Never mind gay or straight, they're the same! So sorry not sorry, but I'm not here for that. Besides, I only took the morning off so it's time for me to get back to work."
She rose and Natasha followed herself, in a way that made it clear she was relied to leave, too. The two men watched them go to the counter to pay and then exit the bar. They got leftalone—and quickly diverted their eyes to focus on their full drinks. Steve felt bad about himself. He knew he had been bragging. He just didn't know why he had felt the need to do it... Well, he kinda did, actually. He wanted to make sure that Natasha and Maria knew he was a good guy. That, last time, he believed he was fighting for them. And, most certainly, that was Bucky’s thoughts, too. Steve bit his lip. He was pathetic.
"I, er, it's nice of you for volunteering” he said in a coy voice.
"Thanks. You too."
They sat in silence, not even having the guts to look at each other. Steve focused on drinking his bear. When he was done, he rose awkwardly.
"I need to go... Work..."
"Yeah, me too."
They barely wished the other a good day as they parted outside the bar. Steve went right back home, in his bedroom, down on his bed and to scream in his pillow.
Later that day, as he was moaning in front of his painting—what should he do with it? —his phone buzzes. It was from Bucky.
Today was not great.
Steve snorted. That was an understatement. The phone buzzed again.
Look, I'm sorry. Can we try to hang out another time?
Just the 2 of us this time
Steve pondered for a few seconds before replying.
Sure
And they planned for a walk on a Tuesday's evening.
This date—for this time it was truly one—went great. No, actually, it went magically. Their ego put aside, their need to show to the other how great of a person they were, not in the peacock fight anymore, they were able to truly get to know each other. And Steve was honestly impressed by Bucky's work at the VeteransCenter, as much as Bucky was verily amazed to discover Steve's art culture (and simply Steve being an artist). So after that, they went to a museum for the next date. And then to Bucky's VeteransCenter. And then, just before school ended, they gave a talk together in a middle school of the district. As summer started, Bucky went to see Steve's class exposition and stood a really long time in front of Steve's painting.
The blond man had simply entitled it 'Liberty now.' Despair was what came out of the painting. Liberty was defeated, lying in the mud. No more triumph, no more leading. Yet... This Black man was protecting Liberty with his own body. Near them, another man down, one arm missing, long brown hair, bluest eyes of all. He was reaching to them. And the kid, who was fat, had still a determined look on his face as he was trying to fly a shredded rainbow flag.
It was a beautiful painting.
Some time later, in November.
Bucky and Steve were sipping their kiwi mojito, their eyes fixed on the TV screen which hanged over the counter of the Irish bar they had somewhat turned into their go-to place when they wanted to go on a date but were also too lazy to be creative. Mica, the bartender, while wiping glasses, would also dart frequent glances at the screen. Two heavily bearded men with capssat at the counter and also focused on the media stream. The rest of the bar was quiet, as it was pretty early in the evening.
"We'll won... Right?" asked Steve softly.
Mica shrugged and readjusted his mask. As the female newscaster once again announced the (very tied) electoral votes, one of the bearded man growled.
"Trump 2020! It’s clear he’s winning" he said with a burp.
Steve briefly closed his eyes. How could it be, that a so very clearly queer coded bar still ended up with Trumpists drinking at its counter? And Mica had to put up with it because one quarantine had severely damaged their business and they needed every client they could get.
"I certainly hope not" replied Bucky, very coldly.
The two bearded man turned to him. Mica glared at him.
"Trump is what America needs right now. A strong will! Not some crappy pussy..."
"Trump murdered people when he pretended the virus didn't exist!"
"Buck." said both Steve and Mica at the same time.
Bucky raised his hand in a peaceful way.
"Don't worry, Mica. These two assholes don't deserve my attention."
"What did you fucking called us?"
The two men were down their stools now, and Bucky was too. They faced each other, trying to make the other recoil just with their glare. But the three of them were pretty stubborn. Not to say, Trump was losing (though he claimed the opposite) and Bucky was sick of the poisonousatmosphere reigning in the country.
"No fight inside!" tried Mica while Steve kept drinking as to keep a low profile (what else could he do?).
"Mica's right. Let's settle this outside” said Bucky.
The Trump supporters laughed.
"Like you could even take one of us! What are you gonna do? Punch us with an invisible arm? Or use your pussy man next to you to hit us?"
Bucky could be short-tempered—this story already demonstrated this. He curled his fingers in a fist and threw his punch. But his adversaries were ready and dodged it and the punch ended up in Steve's face again. Steve felt as if his jaw had been annihilated. He looked with disbelief at Bucky, then at Mica, then at Bucky again, all while the two jerks laughed their asses off. Then he looked back at the bartender and shook his head.
"Sorry, Mica."
To be fair, they did try pushing the Trumpists out of the bar through their fighting. The fact they hadn't yet managed to do it before the police arrived was another matter of fact.
The next day, Biden won the presidential election. Bucky and Steve were released soon enough to go celebrate it with Maria, Nat and Sam at Mica's bar – and no one was there to spoil the fun.