Steve couldn't help it when the first, or second, tear dropped from his waterline. He didn't care if people would look at him strangely or if he'd ruin any chance of fun now that he'd gotten all emotional. He wiped his tears away and laughed until his cheeks ached. He continued peering around at the huge crowds.

People in outrageous clothes and neon body paint surged past him as they moved in time with the beat. Unusual haircuts of all shades and styles surrounded the bewildered soldier making him feel plain but completely at home. Pairs of men and women marched along with fingers, hands or arms intertwined unashamedly. What caught his eye most prominently though was the huge flags waving high above the thrumming crowds. The rainbow design reflecting in the windows of the high rise buildings either side also mirrored in the tears gathering again in his eyes.

Pride.

A word he was only now beginning to associate with being gay. This new world seemed to accept this as a fact and embraced each LGBT brother and sister. It was bright and happy and, most importantly, okay.

For the first time in his life he could see a same-sex couple hold hands without fear of persecution. There is no shame on their faces when they lean in to kiss and Steve feels his heart beating rapidly against his rib cage. That part of himself he had rejected and pushed away for all those years was okay and allowed. The soldier's stomach sank at all the missed opportunities of his early life and what he could have experienced if only this acceptance had come a few decades earlier.

He ducked as a group of people carried a 12 yard long gay pride flag over his head. The tufts of his hair stroked against the bright yellow and he smiled. Moments later a mostly naked man danced passed him wearing only tight, glittery shorts and a rainbow feather boa. The man winked when he noticed Steve's eyes on him. He blushed but didn't look away.

He felt so out of place in his plain off-duty clothes but on the inside he'd never felt so at home in all his life. Moments later someone set off a confetti cannon from a nearby stage and it littered his blond hair and boring shirt. A girl approached him then and offered to paint his face. She showed him the little booklet of all the LGBT+ flags she could do for him. He wanted her to ask what each of them meant but the music was loud as people passing by beat on drums. Instead he pointed at the rainbow flag and, in mere seconds, she had it on both of his cheeks and had moved off to find her next canvas.

He smiled, covered in glitter, confetti and face paint and realised he was at home. The music was loud and he knew he looked a little odd bopping along but he really didn't mind. After all, he was having the time of his life.


When he returned to the tower that night, none of the other Avengers commented on his appearance or the way that smile seemed glued to his face. They did, however, offer each other fond, knowing smiles.

Steve was finally home.