Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Waiting for the big guy?” Steve looked up from his sketch to the waiter refilling his coffee.

“Excuse me?”

“Iron Man. A lot of people wait here just to see him fly by.” The waiter – James, according to his name tag – said absentmindedly as he peaked at Steve’s drawing with a curious expression. Normally Steve would consider it a tad rude, but there was something charming about the way he stretched his neck forward a bit, as if forgetting himself and letting his curiosity get the better of him. He had such a beautiful face, with lines that were well defined and skin that seemed to be so soft. Steve wanted to commit him to memory, maybe be able to draw him later, even if he probably wouldn’t be able to do him justice, no matter how much he tried.

“Right. Maybe another time.” Realizing what he was doing, James straightened his back and smiled apologetically. Steve moved to get his wallet.

“You can stay here as long as you like. Nobody’s waiting on it. Plus we got free wireless.” Wireless? Did he mean -

“Radio?” Steve was confused by what he meant but James just looked at him a laughed softly as he walked to another table, clearly amused by what Steve had said. He didn’t know what was so funny, but he wanted to find out, if only hear that sound again. Since waking up from his 70 year slumber, Steve had been surrounded by people who were trying to help him “adapt to his situation” but, as well-intended as they were, the way they looked at him only served to remind him of how out of place he was. He saw pity in their eyes, something he never thought he would have to see again, after the serum did its work. So if he wanted to ask James to sit down and keep talking to him with his soft voice and easy smile, could you blame him?

“Ask for his number, you moron!” Steve was startled out of his thoughts by the voice of an old man in the table behind him. One glance at James and he could see he had heard the man, if the reddened tips of his ears and the way he got overly-busy with the napkin placement on one of the tables was anything to go by. There’s another thing he was going to miss from the 40’s – manners.

Steve put his money on the table, and hurriedly left the café. And if James’ smile didn’t come to him as easy for the rest of the day, he would never admit it was because he had imagined that, just for a moment, those beautiful eyes had focused on him with the same careful attention they gave the New York landscape.

If I can still be useful here, maybe I can find a purpose.

More than a purpose, Steve. You can find a life.

Steve was reluctant to go see Peggy after the battle of New York. He didn’t know what to expect, and he had no way to prepare for it, so it took him longer than he was proud to admit to pick up the courage to go see her. Ultimately, he was glad he did it. Despite her years, he could still see the same strength, the same determination in her eyes, she gave him exactly the support he needed, just like she had done 70 years before. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that might not be the last time he saw her cry if he meant to keep visiting her. Her daughter had explained to him that her Alzheimer’s advanced quickly, and she had episodes frequently, especially after such an emotional situation. Nevertheless, her words gave him something he desperately needed – hope.

It had been a year since the battle and, thanks to the investment of the Stark Foundation and the compiled efforts of different government agencies, New York was mostly back to its former self. With his reencounter with Peggy still rattling around in his mind, Steve decided to go for a walk and ended the afternoon sitting at a café, hoping a sweet pastry and sketching for a while would maybe help soothe him, if only for a brief moment.

As he starred at his coffee he was startled by a familiar voice.

“Guess you ended up meeting him after all.” He looked up to see the same sweet smile that had stuck around in his head a year before.

“Ah yes.” He said, remembering their past conversation.

“So? Is he as obnoxious as he seems?” Steve couldn’t help laughing at that, as much as he didn’t mean to bad mouth his team colleague to a stranger.

“No, no, he’s –” Alright, Steve didn’t want to lie either, okay?

“Worse?” Once again there was no containing the chuckle that took over Steve. It didn’t help that every time he laughed, James would smile brighter, making his nose scrunch in the most adorable way.

“He has his good moments.” James nodded slightly, smiling as he finished filling his coffee cup and then moved to another table. Steve took a moment to admire the ease with which he talked to the other customers, making sure they had what they needed, striking quick and pleasant conversations. There was an air of weightlessness around him, and Steve wanted to crawl into the safe space it provided and never come out again.

More than a purpose. A life.

“At least one of us is getting lucky, huh?” Bucky looked at Ashley as she waved a piece of paper in his face.

“What?” he picked it up, recognizing himself in dark ballpoint pen lines. He looked at her in disbelief.

“Captain Blondie left you a love note. You gonna be Mr. America, now?” She laughed as she wiped the counter, while Bucky was still busy gawking at the sketch in his hands.

It was him, in the middle of the café, tending to his customers, just going about his day. It was an ordinary scene, but knowing who drew it, who noticed him, it made his stomach flutter just a little bit. He knew it was silly to be this excited about someone he had seen only once about a year before, but he couldn’t help it. At the bottom right corner of the page, in neat handwriting was a phone number and a small message.

Just trying not to be a moron this time. Hope I’m not too late.