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Today was special. It was the first Friday of the month, which meant it was Bucky’s TBI support group. It had been a great find, by Sam of course, and Bucky adored it. It was a group of 15 or so adults living with the lasting effects of traumatic brain injury. Everyone was different, all with varying needs. Bucky’s squeals of unbridled joy were only topped by his happy dancing. Arjun, the group leader, liked to end every session with music and dancing.
Most of the members attended alone, enjoying the independence and sense of understanding the community fostered. Others, with more severe injuries like Bucky, came with a carer or friend. Steve couldn’t keep the lovesick smile off of his face as he watched Bucky bop unsteadily to the pop song playing. The brunette leaned heavily on his walker, wiggling his hips to the beat.
It had taken a few sessions for Bucky to get comfortable enough to join in. The man would sit and (mostly) listen. But he had been unsure about the dancing to begin with. It wasn’t that Bucky was embarrassed or ashamed. Steve had come to realize that Bucky’s sense of embarrassment had been lost with his changes. That’s not to say he didn’t now feel embarrassed about his obvious differences, like his incontinence or unsteadiness. Bucky had just been reserved about the dancing, that was until Steve decided to get up and make a fool out of himself. That day on, Bucky practically vibrated with excitement for the end of each session.
Steve grinned as he watched Bucky dance in time with the plucky melody of “Send Me On My Way”. His hand was sensibly hanging onto his chair, but his body was turned in towards the blond. Steve let his body sway in time to the beat, a steadying hand on Bucky’s back. He couldn’t hide his grin at the sight of pure concentration on Bucky’s face. His little tongue darted out of his mouth, his brows slightly knitted as he bobbed. When the music ended, Arjun closed the session with a friendly goodbye and people began to filter out of the hall. Bucky let out a big breath, slumped down into his chair and beamed up at Steve.
“Lunch, bud?” Steve asked, already putting his jacket back on and helping the brunette into his. Bucky nodded, eye’s glued to Steve’s face like the sun shone out his ass. Steve chuckled and pushed him out of the hall, beginning the short walk to the deli down the street.
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“And danced. A’jun maked lights f-f-” Bucky chattered, pausing on the difficult word and chewing his sandwich whilst he thought. Steve bit his tongue and held back, Dr Lisa had suggested he didn’t speak for Bucky any more, instead letting him try to figure it out. Bucky had been retelling every detail of their TBI group’s session, nevermind that Steve was there. It was good for his brain, processing and memory to retell. “Flash!” Bucky added finally, grinning with pride that he’d managed to produce the word he was looking for. Steve mirrored him with a grin, squeezing his hand now it was free of his sandwich. Bucky bit his lip and glanced down at their joined hands, before Steve could worry he’d overstepped the line on PDA, Bucky chuckled heartily. The smaller man shakily lifted their joint hands and pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on the back of Steve’s hand.
“What was your favorite part of the session?” Steve prompted, watching Bucky’s eyes sharpen slightly as he processed the words put to him. Steve already knew what he’d say. Every week Steve asked the same question, and every week Bucky said the same thing: “Was danced.” This week, Bucky was seemingly full of surprises, he lay another, softer kiss on Steve’s hand and smiled.
“My favorite wasd the dancing. It’s was fun.” Bucky’s voice was clear and deep, and so purely Bucky that Steve felt his heart skip a beat. He tried desperately to pick his jaw up from the floor and beamed at Bucky, who had the gall to scoff playfully and hide his blushing cheeks with another bite of his sub. Steve gathered himself, still in shock at the coherence of Bucky’s sentence, heart squeezing with pride at his partner offering an explanation without being asked.
“You’ve always loved dancing, dove. You were quite the hit at the dancehalls, had all the dames weak in the knees.” Steve chuckled, signaling for a waitress and paying their bill. The fact he left a hefty tip for two coffees and two sandwiches was neither here nor there. They were good here, considerate to Bucky’s needs and more importantly, very accessible. Bucky chewed over Steve’s words, at first smiling before frowning and tilting his head.
“Weak knees too?” Came his soft reply, face full of concern. Steve’s heart panged at the softness and care his partner carried now. He also kicked himself for speaking in idioms around someone who was quite literally relearning the English language. He bit back a smile at the worry on Bucky’s face and gathered up their things.
“It’s just a saying, pal. It means the dames thought you were cute, handsome. And you were. Still are.” He assured, beginning to push Bucky out of the small deli. Bucky frowned at the words before blushing furiously, unsuccessfully hiding his smile. After a ten minute walk in relative silence, the men reached the last crosswalk. Steve pressed the button and paused beside Bucky’s chair. He felt Bucky’s warm hand slip into his and squeezed automatically, glancing down to find adoring eyes staring up at him. Steve bit the bullet and leaned down slowly, as not to startle Buck. He pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and smiled as the crossing alarm sounded.