[ They became children again, even when they were almost fully grown, young adults with such ties to each other. Even when he had been gone, he had never forgotten him, and he made a soft crooning noise of fondness when he felt Bucky groom him, heart thumping at the way he'd always done it.
He'd loved it, he'd always loved when Bucky straightened out his fur, made him sleek and clean whenever he got out of fights all in a disarray. Bucky had loved him when he was a small scrapper who bared his teeth at everything and everyone -- and it was obvious that he loved him still. He was the gentler one of them both, always, and Steve regarded him with affection that had never truly been gone.
He chased after him, excited and wagging, tail lifted because it was Bucky, and because they never cared about decorum before. He sniffed him again, wagging tail accidentally bumping him several times on the snout until he saw the submissive grin.
And oh, the things it did to him. The way it got under his skin, right down to the primal drive, the need that made him growl low in his throat. Not in threat, but in something else entirely, an acknowledgement, a desire that had long rested in the pit of his stomach before either of them knew what it was.
Bucky's gesture made him warm, made him want to push him down and mount him, and he resisted, bumping noses. How does he put this, really? But he decided to be honest, in case any misunderstandings arose. Erskine, after all, knew where Steve's heart really lay, and it was with this omega wolf with a coat as black as night. ] He was going to talk to your grandfather.
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He'd loved it, he'd always loved when Bucky straightened out his fur, made him sleek and clean whenever he got out of fights all in a disarray. Bucky had loved him when he was a small scrapper who bared his teeth at everything and everyone -- and it was obvious that he loved him still. He was the gentler one of them both, always, and Steve regarded him with affection that had never truly been gone.
He chased after him, excited and wagging, tail lifted because it was Bucky, and because they never cared about decorum before. He sniffed him again, wagging tail accidentally bumping him several times on the snout until he saw the submissive grin.
And oh, the things it did to him. The way it got under his skin, right down to the primal drive, the need that made him growl low in his throat. Not in threat, but in something else entirely, an acknowledgement, a desire that had long rested in the pit of his stomach before either of them knew what it was.
Bucky's gesture made him warm, made him want to push him down and mount him, and he resisted, bumping noses. How does he put this, really? But he decided to be honest, in case any misunderstandings arose. Erskine, after all, knew where Steve's heart really lay, and it was with this omega wolf with a coat as black as night. ] He was going to talk to your grandfather.