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Steve had been losing his hearing basically since the day he was born, the doctors say. Nothing could be done about it. When he was little he used to look to magic to try and fix him, to reverse the damage. But magic didn’t exist in the real world the way it did in his stories. In his stories, magic was everywhere, all the time. By the time he lost the last of the sounds at 21, he realized magic just didn’t exist like that. It was there, sure, but only in the little ways soulmates found each other – a spray of rose petals or mini fireworks exploding above their heads when they laced fingers or kissed or hugged for the first time. But soulmates weren’t something Steve was worried about. He’d stopped wearing his hearing aids a long time ago, when he finally gave up all hope that magic or modern medicine could help him.
By the time he was 25 every day had started feeling the same. Get up, get dressed, go to work in silence. He taught art and art history at the local college for the deaf (the one he himself had gotten his degree from) and, while he loved his job, his life was starting to feel… bland. Depression had started making a home deep in his bones, a chill he just couldn’t shake. Nothing feels different today, as he drags himself out of bed and trudges to the bathroom, as he grabs a bagel to eat on the subway and coffee in a travel mug. Everything feels the same.
He gets off at his usual stop and types out a quick text to Clint as he makes his way down the usual streets, barely even paying attention as he walks the all-too-familiar path. That is, until a hand grabs his wrist and tugs him back with a “Watch out!” just as a bus goes barreling past. Steve’s so shocked by the voice he stumbles and falls all the way to his ass, coffee spilling everywhere and he’s sure his phone screen is cracked in his hand. He’s so startled by the voice he barely even registers the fact that he literally just almost died.
“Jesus!” the man crows, pulling him back to his feet with the hand he’s still grasping. “You deaf or something? Christ almighty.” He’d almost forgotten what words even sounded like, how sweet a person’s voice could be.
And Steve can’t believe his ears. His eyes are wide as he gapes at the man, unmoving. “Yeah,” he finally manages to get out. He can’t hear himself, so he’s not 100% sure if his voice is what it once was or if it’s going to slur now. When was the last time he used it? Did anything come out at all?
“What?” the man asks him, face screwing up in confusion.
“Yeah,” Steve repeats, or thinks he does anyway. This time he signs as he speaks. “I am deaf. So why can I hear you?” The few bystanders still watching the scene in front of them start absolutely freaking out, but it’s all still silent to Steve. “What are they saying?” he asks.
The man in front of him flushes as he looks around briefly, then back to Steve. “They’re saying it’s soulmate magic,” he replies, and a shiver runs down both of their spines.
Steve feels his own cheeks flushing as he stuffs his cracked phone in his pocket, shifts the now-empty travel mug from hand to hand. “Well,” he starts, then nothing for a long moment. Finally he looks up and meets the man’s eyes as he holds out a hand. “I guess you should tell me your name then.”
The man laughs and Steve thinks he might cry. He hasn’t heard laughter in so long, and this man is so beautiful and his voice is so lovely, and everyone thinks this is soulmate magic. He’s so overwhelmed he feels the tears stinging his eyes.
“My friends call me Bucky,” the man says, taking his hand and shaking. “And I guess if we’re soulmates it’s only fair I consider you a friend.”
“Well, you did just save my life,” Steve says, signing again once he has his hand back. “Does my voice sound okay? Like, can you understand me?” he asks as an afterthought, forgetting the people around them.
“Perfect English,” Bucky grins.
The blond flushes just slightly and flashes a shy smile. “I’m Steve,” he says.