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Laundry Day (Every Day is Bi Pride Day)

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“So I know I didn’t bring that much with me,” Bucky says. He doesn’t linger on what that might mean or stir up. “But you know it’s almost Pride, and, well, I’ve been queer as a three dollar bill since before there was a Pride. So I present to you my contributions to the household,” he says, grinning now.

“Oh?” Clint asks. He’s tired. He let the others help, but he’s always exhausted on laundry day no matter how much they do.”

“Yeah. I thought it might cheer you up. You know. You and your purple.”

Clint grins. “Oh. It’s like that, is it.”

“Since December 5, 1998. I asked The Google Machine.”

“I’m older than that.”

“We’re all older than that.”

Clint’s grin widens. “Sometimes it has its perks.”

“Yeah, so. I got these. I put them down somewhere about a week ago and you know how that is, but now here they are again.”

Bucky dug for something out of one of the spare laundry bags and revealed a shiny material wrapping a mug. He unfurled it, Steve and Clint looking on in amusement as they’ve guessed by now what it is.

Sure enough, a bi pride flag, with its purple slightly lighter than the apartment walls, comes away from the outside of a matching mug.

“Don’t worry. The mug’s mine.”

“Hey. I’m not worrying. No one’s worrying.”

“Confident, eh?”

“There are at least two bi guys in this arrangement of ours and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

They turn to Steve. Boy Scout Steve. Scrappy, mischievous Steve.

“I feel like the walls are listening,” Steve says.

“Before or after we put up this flag.”

“Listening now. But all I’m saying is, Peggy was definitely nice enough.”

“I’m glad you had her,” Bucky said, a little somber.

“Anyway, no objections to the flag.”

“Thanks. It isn’t much, but it was what I could find.”

“Not much? Buck, we’re over a hundred years old. It’s something to celebrate.”

“Three old men,” Clint says.

“You’re getting there. Might have to sprint, though.”

“Ouch. Don’t remind me.”

“Or maybe we’re robbing the cradle.”

Clint laughed. “No way.”

The three of them grinned and let out a sigh in tandem.

“The flag is great.”

“Let’s sit here for a while. Or Steve, you could hang it.”

“Sure can.”

And so it was.

Bucky settles his mug in the kitchen as if he's a coffee aficionado while Steve speeds up the flag hanging process.

The place looks great.