Lost in the Moment
It was hard to say how long they had been asleep; the sun had set but that didn’t give Steve any better an idea of what time it was. He opened his eyes and surveyed the parts of the room that he could see; a cluttered desk across from him. He could see stacks of old papers and books and he wondered what they were about. What was printed on them, what kinds of things James did before all of this; in-between missions when he was here alone. Various maps and tatty photographs were pinned to the wall, they didn’t seem to have any kind of rhyme or reason. He wondered what James had been looking for, or who. He tried to squint his eyes to get a better look, to try and make out some of the words but he felt an arm tighten around his middle.
It would be a loss for language to just describe James as warm, his arms wrapped around Steve’s slight frame. In fact, Steve felt that every inch of him that touched the bare skin of James’ arms was on fire. He loved the feeling of it; in his lonely apartment in Brooklyn he always felt cold, the kind of cold that seeped its way into the very core of you. Ever since arriving at this cabin in the woods, he has felt nothing but warm. He felt safe and protected.
The man wrapped around him shifted again, his deep breathing becoming short and shallow; signaling to Steve that he was waking from sleep. He froze, he wanted James to wake up naturally. After a few moments, Steve felt breath against his ear as James spoke. His already deep voice had an extra rasp to it.
“I was worried that this was a dream.” He spoke and it made shivers run down Steve’s curved spine. If he could lay here and listen to that voice forever, he would. He knew that was a delusion, he understood that their positions in life and the cards they were dealt would play differently. Steve tried to force those thoughts away and focus on the here and now. The man surrounding him was strong and would do everything he could to make sure that Steve was safe. They undoubtedly had a connection, even though Steve couldn’t access those memories he knew that what James told him was real.
“It wasn’t. Even the bad parts.” Steve said as he rolled over onto his other side to face James. He looked into his eyes and felt again, hidden years’ worth of love and trust. “What do you usually do when you are hiding out here?” Steve asked, he wanted to stay in bed all through the morning, but he knew that wasn’t smart. There were people out there that were looking for him, they could be in this very forest and he wouldn’t even know.
“Coffee first.” James said as he rolled his arm out from under Steve. He was surprised at how easy it had been to fall asleep on top of a metal arm. Steve couldn’t help but laugh out loud, making James stop and look back at him. Even though James was wearing a shirt, he had kept his bionic arm from Steve’s view the whole time, James wasn’t sure still how comfortable Steve was around it. James gave him a quizzical look.
“I’m sorry, for a minute I forgot you have a metal arm.” Steve said with a smile as he started to climb out of bed as well. He followed James out of the room, down the hall and into the small kitchen. As he looked throughout the cabin now, Steve could tell that while it looked humble and lived-in, it was equipped with everything that someone would need while in hiding. He watched as James moved fluidly through the room, from the refrigerator to the coffee maker and back.
“How did you get it?” Steve couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t expect James to laugh out loud, but he did; his laughter was boastful, and it filled up the room around him. Echoing off the metal appliances.
“That’s a story for another time.” This made Steve smile, it implied that there would be so much more time for stories and explanations. Steve sat down at the kitchen island and continued to watch James work. A few minutes later, James set a pipping hot mug of coffee in front of him with a small splash of milk. Nothing fancy, just enough to get the job done. He wrapped his fingers around the mug, letting the warmth travel up through his hands to the rest of his body. James took a long gulp of his coffee, leaning up against the wood and tile of his counter top.
“I need to go back through the woods the way we came, double check that we didn’t leave a trail behind. We’ll also need some wood for the fireplace, it gets cold here at night. Checking out trail shouldn’t take me too long, but you should stay inside.” Steve wanted to protest, offer to help in some way but he knew why he had to stay inside. There were people out there looking for him, if he spent much time outside of the cabin that would put him at risk. Everything he did from now on was met with risk, he knew that, but he also felt safe with James. If they were together, Steve felt that he would be okay.
James set his half-finished black coffee on the counter and walked back towards his bedroom. When he came back out a few minutes later, he had dressed himself in clothing more suitable for the outside; along with some heavy-duty hiking boots. He looked back over to Steve, who was still dressed in the over sized items that he had given him earlier in the day.
“I’m sorry I don’t have much more here that you could wear.” He said quietly, his cheeks going slightly pink as Steve answered him with a kind smile.
“It’s not a big deal. I…I like it.” Steve spoke shyly as he stood from his stool and walked James towards the door. “Go and cover our tracks, I’ll be fine here for a while by myself.” Even though Steve spoke with confidence, James still was hesitant to leave him all alone. Knowing that people were on the hung for him was nerve wracking but at the same time, Steve was an adult who knew how to take care of himself. For a moment they stood so close that Steve thought that James was about to lean in and kiss him before he left but the moment was cut short by James. He did start to lean in but quickly stopped himself, he didn’t want to put any kind of pressure on Steve. To Steve, they didn’t truly know each other, not completely in this lifetime. There were milestones that they needed to meet in their current lives before they got to that point. So, he pulled away, opened the heavy wooden front door. He took his time on the front porch, looking along the tree line surrounding them to make sure that there was no one around before turning to take one last look at Steve.
“Oh my god, just go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you come back.” James couldn’t help but smile, which Steve figured wasn’t something he did a whole lot before they found each other again. He watched James’ retreating figure until he couldn’t see him anymore; absorbed into the tree line. He walked back into the cabin and took the time to look around once again at the room that encircled him. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the thin blonde strands until he felt calm once again. He thought over the last few weeks and everything that had happened for him to come to this point. Hiding for life in a cabin of unknown location, with a man who has known him his entire life. Learning that his life that he thought he knew had been a lie all along and another Steve lived in his place.
He couldn’t deny his feelings for James. He knew everything and nothing about this man, who knew everything about him and would do anything to protect him. He should feel an all-encompassing dread, but he felt nothing but calm. He noticed a wardrobe just at the beginning of the hallway and being curious as he was, he walked over and looked inside. He found exactly what he was hoping to find, a few throw blankets folded neatly, sitting side by side. He felt each one, letting the soft sensations tell him which one to pick; eventually choosing a dark grey fleece blanket long enough to cover him three times over.
He brought it over to the couch with him, climbing up into the corner of one end, his feet tucked underneath him and the blanket enveloping his body in warmth. He remembered then that he had run back into the gunfire in his apartment to grab one thing; something very important to him; his copy of Leaves of Grass. He looked around the room and spotted it on the coffee table across from him. He reached out and grabbed it, settling back into his comfortable spot. The volume was small, perfect for his long fingers. He couldn’t even keep count of the number of times he had read through the whole thing. Some parts he loved and cherished more than others, but it was a work that he related to so deeply. He didn’t need to look up the page, it had been dogeared so many times that he was able to flip right to it. His eyes scanned the words and he held them close,
“I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.”
Just as Steve began to read the words, preparing to be alone for some time, James walked back through the doors. He quickly kicked off his shoes and left them, muddy, by the door. He looked up and Steve, who couldn’t contain the small smile that played across his lips.
“I collected a pile of firewood by the back door. If you bring it in, I can get dinner started and maybe we can enjoy it by the fire.” James said quietly but there was an excitement to his voice. The idea of sharing a meal with James, hopefully getting to know him better was something that made Steve feel eager. He set his book back down on the coffee table and made his way towards the back door. There were two pairs of shoes sitting near the door, neither of which looked to be close to Steve’s size but all he had to do was go out for the firewood; he figured it didn’t matter if he looked ridiculous doing it.
For the next fifteen minutes or so Steve walked back and forth from the tree line behind the cabin, back through the kitchen and left the wood in neat piles by the fireplace. James was doing exactly what he said he would be, standing beside the stove, cooking what looked to be a simple meal of chicken noodle soup. Steve couldn’t help but laugh.
“Slaving over a complicated meal?” He said as he picked up the empty can of Campbell’s soup that was sitting on the counter next to James. An infectious laughter left his lips as he closed his eyes, embracing the silliness of being caught.
“Hey, I never claimed to be an amazing cook. I only said I would make dinner.” James said, throwing his hands up. Steve’s eyes couldn’t help but drift to his left arm, the metal arm. He didn’t want to seem rude, so he averted his eyes as quickly as possible.
“Don’t worry, it’s not dangerous unless I tell it to be.” James said smoothly, the words gave Steve some reassurance. He smiled kindly back at James before tossing the can in the trash bin beside the stove and walked back out the back door again. It took a few more trips to get a sizable pile for them to use for the evening. When he walked back into the cabin for the last time, he kicked off the over sized shoes and left them by the door. James was no longer in the kitchen, but the homey scent of the soup surrounded him. He went to the sink and washed his hands clean before walking back into the main living space.
He was caught off guard when he walked into a dark space, everything surrounding him only being lit by the soft orange glow of the fire, burning constant in the fireplace. In front of the fire sat James, with two bowls on soup on a tray beside him. There was also a bowl of bread ripped into manageable chunks and glasses of water. Steve couldn’t be sure but, in that moment, he thought it was the most romantic looking situation he had ever seen. After he took a complete survey of the situation he walked further into the room. He took the blanket that he had used earlier and brought it to be floor with him, sitting cross-legged across from James.
“I hope you like chicken noodle soup.” It sounded to Steve like there was a hint of shyness in his voice, which seemed unusual.
“Thank you, I can only imagine how much work you put into making something like this.” He liked this, liked that it felt so easy to joke with James. He was beginning to understand James as a very serious person but to be able to bring laughter out of him as effortlessly as he did was quickly becoming a point of pride for Steve. The ate together in relative silence, just enjoying the warmth from the fire and the ease of each other’s company. Hundreds of questions were burning within Steve, just below the surface but he couldn’t focus on just one.
James looked over to the coffee table beside the couch and noticed the copy of Leaves of Grass that sat there.
“Would you read me something?” He asked earnestly. From what Steve understood of what James had told him about their past together was that his love for Whitman transcended lifetimes; no matter how much of himself was erased, Whitman remained. Steve paused, as if he was going to get his answers from silence. But James made no motion to say anything else, he was simply asked to be read to. They must have done this before; before the war and before Steve had all his memories stripped away. He reached out and picked up the small volume and fingered the pages, looking for the perfect words. He found just what he was looking for, his eyes lifting back up to James before he started to read.
James had leaned back, his weight resting on his elbow. The easy golden light from the fire cascading across his features. A sharp jaw and soft eyes. Wisps of brown hair pushed back behind his ears, he looked peaceful. Like they hadn’t just escaped from the enemy 24 hours ago. Steve took a deep breath and began to read.
“I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself
to you,
And you must not be abased to the other.
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture,
not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning,
How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn’d
over upon me,
And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone and plunged your
tongue to my bare-striped heart,
And reach’d till you felt my beard, and reach’d till you held
my feet…
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own…”
Steve read on for a while, fully aware of the dark eyes that were watching him. Watching his lips form the words and drinking in the sounds that they made. He had never felt so stripped down before. Reading his favorite words to James, words that he always saw himself in. His spirit embodied the sentiment of the poem and he hoped that by hearing these words that James was able to dismantle a few more of the walls that were surrounding him. Time passed on without much notice, just collections of wood added to the fire kept track of the time passing. He turned the page to read more but was surprised by a yawn. James immediately noticed and started to stand.
“I can keep going…” Steve said weakly. He didn’t like sounding so vulnerable but there was a part of him that didn’t want to stop. He liked the feeling that reading aloud gave him, but James just continued to try and dim the fire. He took the rest of his water and poured it over the fire, killing parts of it instantly.
“You’ve had an incredibly difficult 24 hours. I think more rest will give us a fresh mind for tomorrow, we can come up with a plan to get you out of this mess.” James stood tall over Steve, not in a threatening way but Steve understood that maybe now wasn’t the time to insist on staying awake and reading poetry all night. He was right in the fact that there were things outside of this cabin that were bigger than them. He wished there wasn’t. James reached out his hand for Steve to pull himself up off the floor. Steve took it without thinking, making note of how well their hands felt together. They fit together perfectly.
Steve stood in front of James, having to look up a bit to get a good look at him. Their eyes met and instantly he felt frozen in place. The air around them crackled and thrummed with energy. Was this what it had always felt like? If it was it was a feeling that Steve never wanted to veer too far away from. Their eyes were locked and there was nowhere to escape; just the here and now and Steve knew exactly what he wanted. Realizing that their hands had never parted only added fuel to the already uncontrollable fire inside of Steve; he knew that James felt it too. Steve wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel the sensation that had stolen his heart back in 1936. Just as he began to pull forward, applying a little more pressure to James’ hands so that he understood his intentions; he felt James pull away again. Just as quickly as they had been pressed together, there was a cold waft of air now between them.
“We should really get some sleep.” James said, both hands still at his side; ever the soldier. He turned away from Steve and started towards the hallway that led towards his bedroom; about to leave Steve all alone in front of the dwindling flames.
“Bucky…” Steve said softly. He didn’t know where it came from, deep inside of his chest. It stopped James dead in his tracks. Steve had seen the name before, in letters and on photographs but he didn’t know what it meant. To James and in relation to the two of them. He looked over to James, who had turned back to look at him. The lines on his forehead were prominent but the look on his face was conflicted. Steve was now stuck, finding himself at a loss for words as light dimmed lower and lower around them with the dying fire. He shrugged, willing the words to escape.
“Don’t be afraid of us…” He whispered. It was a plea. It barely made any sense to him, but he hoped that the sentiment came across. James shook his head in response.
“I’m not.” James waved for Steve to follow him and so he did. He walked behind James’ strong back down the hallway until they came to his bedroom. The room was just as comforting tonight as it was when they arrived at the house this morning. Everything about the cabin comforted him, it was James’ shelter and therefore it was his as well. He entered it willingly and closed the door quietly behind him.