Haha, radio. Okay, maybe he's still a bit addled. Does anyone listen to the radio when they're not in the car these days? He can't help it; he's always liked to have background music playing, for drawing, for doing chores. For daydreaming. For just a moment he wonders what it would be like if he could take Tony to the world he, Steve, left behind. The Dodgers, Coney Island, radio plays...
Steve's nostalgia is pretty clear-headed, most of the time. He wouldn't really want to drag anyone he knows now to the poorly-ventilated little hole in the wall in Brooklyn he used to share with Bucky, where they rationed milk and meat and butter out not because of the war but because they could hardly afford them, on top of the expensive medications Steve needed to survive. But there are bits and pieces he misses sometimes, and juxtaposing the good ones next to Tony Stark's flashy futurist presence makes him feel strangely happy.
Still, he's not oblivious to the shape of the body beneath his head, and his touch turns increasingly slow and gentle as he notes the shape of Tony's ribcage, the surgical scars, the feel of...not hollowness, per se, but not-quite-rightness where his sternum should be. They're not all Steve's fault, these marks, but he played a part in dealing them out. If he could give him everything back, not just undo the damage he's done, he would, in a heartbeat. Either way, it's a sobering reminder of the consequences of Steve's own actions.
And either way, there's nothing to be gained by saying anything, no point in apologizing when it would just be a painful reminder for them both. Instead, he silently resolves to do better, stroking across his chest. And he won't say it, but he's grateful for the forgiveness he's being given. Grateful that he somehow still has a hero here that wants to save him.
He gets up eventually and pulls the cart over, and manages to make himself eat a reasonable meal. More food, in fact, than he's eaten in a very long while, and he's left a little bit sleepy afterwards. He almost protests the news shows, but then he remembers what time period they're in, that he already knows how many of these stories end, and settles in to Tony's lap instead, which turns out to be the best decision he's made all year.
He's ridiculously relaxed by the time he's handed the remote, and that makes him lethargic as he accepts it and rolls onto his back to smile up at Tony. "What if they were originally filmed in black and white and got colorized later? Is that acceptable?"
no subject
Tenement buildings. Virulent prejudice. Grinding poverty. Maybe not.
Steve's nostalgia is pretty clear-headed, most of the time. He wouldn't really want to drag anyone he knows now to the poorly-ventilated little hole in the wall in Brooklyn he used to share with Bucky, where they rationed milk and meat and butter out not because of the war but because they could hardly afford them, on top of the expensive medications Steve needed to survive. But there are bits and pieces he misses sometimes, and juxtaposing the good ones next to Tony Stark's flashy futurist presence makes him feel strangely happy.
Still, he's not oblivious to the shape of the body beneath his head, and his touch turns increasingly slow and gentle as he notes the shape of Tony's ribcage, the surgical scars, the feel of...not hollowness, per se, but not-quite-rightness where his sternum should be. They're not all Steve's fault, these marks, but he played a part in dealing them out. If he could give him everything back, not just undo the damage he's done, he would, in a heartbeat. Either way, it's a sobering reminder of the consequences of Steve's own actions.
And either way, there's nothing to be gained by saying anything, no point in apologizing when it would just be a painful reminder for them both. Instead, he silently resolves to do better, stroking across his chest. And he won't say it, but he's grateful for the forgiveness he's being given. Grateful that he somehow still has a hero here that wants to save him.
He gets up eventually and pulls the cart over, and manages to make himself eat a reasonable meal. More food, in fact, than he's eaten in a very long while, and he's left a little bit sleepy afterwards. He almost protests the news shows, but then he remembers what time period they're in, that he already knows how many of these stories end, and settles in to Tony's lap instead, which turns out to be the best decision he's made all year.
He's ridiculously relaxed by the time he's handed the remote, and that makes him lethargic as he accepts it and rolls onto his back to smile up at Tony. "What if they were originally filmed in black and white and got colorized later? Is that acceptable?"