Steve hadn't realized how anxious he was about asking, until Marie easily agreed; his shoulders slumped in poorly-concealed relief, and he smiled happily. He'd tried not to think about it, tried to keep moving and keep busy so his mind didn't have a chance to dwell on spending the day alone. He wasn't sure if birthdays were dealt with differently now, but he remembered every one of his being treated like summer Christmas. Not a lot of money for food or presents, but things were always scraped together to make the most of the day, with lots of celebrating and laughter, and at the end of it all, watching the fireworks with his ma and Bucky. He remembered being little and his mother bundling him onto her lap as they stared up at the sky, and her whispering that the light show was just for him. He's wondered, over the years, if his birthday was made such a big deal because it was proof that he'd managed to live yet another year, when all the doctors at one time or another were skeptical to downright disbelieving that he would.
"Fireworks make up for everything," Steve agreed with a smile as Marie started gathering the punch. He stepped forward automatically to take it from her, but stopped himself; it was okay to let women carry things now, it was expected. It wasn't a mark against him as a gentleman if he didn't offer, and might be considered chauvinistic if he did. It was hard to remember all the social niceties that had been flipped around in the last seventy years. Steve had to just keep reminding himself to treat every woman like he'd learned to treat Peggy, because it seemed like all the women he was attracted to were strong, independent types.
Steve paused, first at the 'very serious question' comment, and then again, but for an entirely different reason, at the question itself. He thought about the small slices of different cakes he'd had over the years, about food and especially sugar rations, about limiting his sugar intake because of his (now nonexistent) diabetes, about all of the different kinds of cake there probably were now...
"Well," he finally said, once they'd reached the serving table and started refilling glasses with punch. "Chocolate, definitely. But I've only ever had vanilla and chocolate, so I don't know if I'd like something else, better. And everything tastes different, now." Which was very true, but not in the way she probably thought. "I mean, for the last three years, I've been living on K-rations and coffee that tastes like it got scraped from the pot and reboiled in an unwashed boot." He'd discovered after the serum that he could eat almost anything and not get sick, but just because he could eat it to survive, didn't mean he enjoyed it.
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"Fireworks make up for everything," Steve agreed with a smile as Marie started gathering the punch. He stepped forward automatically to take it from her, but stopped himself; it was okay to let women carry things now, it was expected. It wasn't a mark against him as a gentleman if he didn't offer, and might be considered chauvinistic if he did. It was hard to remember all the social niceties that had been flipped around in the last seventy years. Steve had to just keep reminding himself to treat every woman like he'd learned to treat Peggy, because it seemed like all the women he was attracted to were strong, independent types.
Steve paused, first at the 'very serious question' comment, and then again, but for an entirely different reason, at the question itself. He thought about the small slices of different cakes he'd had over the years, about food and especially sugar rations, about limiting his sugar intake because of his (now nonexistent) diabetes, about all of the different kinds of cake there probably were now...
"Well," he finally said, once they'd reached the serving table and started refilling glasses with punch. "Chocolate, definitely. But I've only ever had vanilla and chocolate, so I don't know if I'd like something else, better. And everything tastes different, now." Which was very true, but not in the way she probably thought. "I mean, for the last three years, I've been living on K-rations and coffee that tastes like it got scraped from the pot and reboiled in an unwashed boot." He'd discovered after the serum that he could eat almost anything and not get sick, but just because he could eat it to survive, didn't mean he enjoyed it.