Happy birthday, old man

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

[ooc: Backdated to July 4th.]

The weird part about having a birthday on a national holiday is that you can never forget that it's happening. No matter where he was in the States, there were parades and fireworks; even in Europe the Howling Commandos always made a big deal of the twin occasions, even if it meant embarrassing Steve.

Especially if it meant embarrassing Steve.

So the weird part about being on the run in Morocco on the Fourth of July is that it's just another day. Steve wakes up in a quiet, mid-grade hotel, gets breakfast at a side-street cafe, and passes some time writing and drawing and watching the city pass by.

(The drawing is Bucky, T'Challa, Shuri, and Sharon -- cartoon versions of them, like T'Challa with panther ears and Sharon as a slinky vixen -- in front of the panther statue in Wakanda's capital.)

When he gets back to his hotel, ready to siesta out of the heat of the day, the door doesn't open to his room.

Milliways. It always makes him smile.

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[nerves_of_ice]

Over on the other side of the room, Bucky drops his coffee cup. He manages to catch it, barely, and doesn't even bother hissing out a silent curse as it sloshes over his fingers.

He abandons it on the table and gets to his feet, staring. "Steve?"

How long has it been since Steve showed up here?

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

A huge smile breaks over Steve's face. "Bucky!"

He crosses the room in a few strides, arms open. "How're you doing, man?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He may have only one arm instead of two, but his hug is no less fierce for it.

"Pretty good, all things considered. When did you start showing up here again?" His delight in the idea is evident.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve keeps his arm around Bucky's shoulders. "Not long ago," he says. "This is only the second time in a long time the door here has opened for me. It keeps taking me by surprise.

"When are you, at home? I think we're a little out of sync."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky glances at him. "A few days after the procedure," he says.

Either Steve'll know, and everything'll be clear, or he won't, in which case they're definitely out of sync.

"You?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve smiles wryly. "It's the Fourth of July."

'Nuff said, he suspects.

[nerves_of_ice]

Indeed. Bucky's sudden grin is bright as the sun, and he nudges his best friend with a shoulder.

"Yeah? Well, happy birthday, Rogers."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Thanks, Barnes." He nudges Bucky with his own shoulder, and removes his arm. "I don't feel a day over a hundred and one."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You don't look a day over seventy-five," Bucky tells him, with a perfectly straight face.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve laughs. "Thanks again.

"C'mon, let's get a drink. There's no better way to spend my birthday."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You got it." Bucky nods to the table he'd been occupying and leads the way over, signaling a waitrat on the way.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve takes a seat at the table, and tells the waitrat who scurries over, "Cold beer. Choose me a good one."

He looks at Bucky for his order.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Special occasion," he tells the rat. "This guy's birthday. Pour me a good Scotch for it?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

The rat squeaks and scampers off.

"He's going to come back with cupcakes," Steve says. "Bet you."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You never know. He might bring a whole cake."

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"That's true, there are two of us. We could polish off a cake between us."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Easily," he agrees. "Doing anything else to celebrate today, besides cake?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve crosses his arms and rests them on the table. "I was spending my birthday in quiet contemplation," he says, somewhat loftily. "Then the Bar brought me here. I think the universe wants me to do something else."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky gives him a dubious look.

"Quiet contemplation? Seriously?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"Well..."

He takes out his sketchbook and opens it to his latest sketch so Bucky can see. "And missing my friends."

[nerves_of_ice]

He brushes his fingers very lightly over the edge of the paper, careful not to touch anything that he might smudge or blur.

The corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement as he takes in Sharon's image. "A fox?" Bucky glances up at him. "Ever think of going back to being an artist?"

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

"There's this website where people can post their art and other people can leave comments," Steve says. "I posted there for a little while, but since I used my real name and my style is pretty distinctive, I figured I should stop."

He shrugs. "It's never been more than a hobby."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky eyes him a little carefully - after all, Steve's drawing has been part of his friend's life for almost as long as he's known him - but is interrupted by the arrival of three rats. One is carrying a drinks tray with a beer for Steve and a cut-crystal glass of Scotch for him, and the other two are balancing a cake made out of cupcakes in red velvet, vanilla, and what he thinks might be blueberry-yellow cake, all with chocolate icing.

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve covers his mouth to hide his smile.

"That looks great, guys," he tells the rats.

[nerves_of_ice]

One of them squeaks imperiously at them, and Bucky leans down to take their drinks one at a time, leaving Steve to claim the cake.

"Thanks for that," he says, laughing a little.