spaces_between | (For 163/assailments)

(For 163/assailments)

Who: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
When: Spring Gatherings
What: Werewolf ABO AU - Because we said so.
Warnings: Really cute stuff, sex, mpreg

Hundreds of them came from all over the continent, some at great distances to be with their own kind despite the risk of such a vast movement of so many. Humans weren't included, and half the game was outsmarting their technology to travel the fields, through the trees, over rivers, around lakes and up and down mountain paths to get to the Gathering Grounds. They only came together to discuss the greatest politics of their culture, to renew bonds and brotherhood, for some to show off their recent litters of growing pups (some just old enough to make the journey), others to barter their great nephews, nieces, or grandchildren into bonds stronger than scent and pack, a bond of blood.

His entire pack was joined by many members of the other packs that lived in the surrounding territory of hills and fields, an agreeable traveling arrangement where his grandfather conferred only with another aged wolf around the same age on their path. Pierce was an alpha's alpha, a man of greatness to have brought about success of the group through negotiation, trade and fighting when necessary.

His brothers, both alphas, were the fighters of Pierce's particular eye. He was the carrot where his brothers were all brutal stick, and he knew his grandfather intended to find him a match this year, though who and where and when he wasn't privy too. He was simply to do as he always did, mingle, meet with friends, fight to prove his skill and strength and for goodness sake, don't let too many noses under his tail. It was the same old story since he had been shown to be omega. Tail clamped until mated his grandfather told him.

James was less intent on being a bargaining chip and more intent on reuniting with old friends that he hadn't seen in five years. His oldest and best friend had gone away two years ago, a feisty little alpha of the richest of gold, but Steve had no come back and he had been forced to know his childhood friend in memory only. That was the way of the world; not all of them made it to adulthood or lived to their potential. The encroachment of humans were discussions of the pack leaders; he wasn't old enough to care much about it, and humans had never particularly bothered him save for their occasional strange antics and smells in their cities. He knew enough of them to behave normally if he assumed that shape.

Once settled in their usual spot in one of the many big caves that looked down into the massive glade which acted as the gathering spot, he had headed out (tail tucked, yes grandfather) to explore and meet other werewolves. There were old friends, a few with pups of their own to show off, fine strong creatures. One of his old friends had an omega who was far enough along to be humorously round in the belly, and they had teased the pair for being too frisky and making too many. It was a great time as more wolves flooded into the area, making all manner of racket.

He only headed off to find a rabbit to eat on his own and to get away from the noise when all the celebrations were starting. He found and closer to the camp than he would have thought, ignoring the pleasantness that had nothing to do with chewing down fresh meat. If his grandfather suspected, he'd be confined to their cave or sent him. He wasn't missing out on this for some silly old potential for heat; it was just excitement being around so many of his own kind, nothing more.

Cracking open a bone that he held in his forepaws, he licked and sucked on the marrow and sighed contently. He had to lick blood from his black coat, taking special care with grooming just in case his grandfather had someone potentially lined up already to introduce him to. It was better out here in the night. The crickets were loud tonight and the air was warm, contenting him to stay away from the camp for longer.

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[ Steve had been taken away by his own grandfather and groomed; Erskine was shrewd, knowledgeable, and a wise patriarch of his clan, a leader who had taken their pack to greater heights, spurred them onwards with a courage and a clarity that Steve admired. He had told him that there was something that could make him strong; something he had made -- werewolves were inherently magical people, and spells were nothing new when it came to the elders.

And so he had gone, reluctantly leaving his best friend as he stepped forward to fulfill his destiny. There were many times that he'd wanted to reach out to him, to contact him, anyone that they had been playmates with ever since they were pups rolling around in moss and the cool streams of the water that sang and gurgled within the forest.

But it was not to be; he was to be kept away from all others during that time. And he had been taught, groomed and trained, shaped into the young princeling of the pack instead of a scrappy, undersized wolf who had gotten himself into more fights than he could have counted.

He'd thought of Bucky all the while, mulled over their childhood memories as he grew, learning the ways of their people and humans, and when he matured he thought of him a lot more -- they were barely adolescents when they parted, and Bucky's absence was a hole in his soul.

But then they returned -- he returned to the gathering, big and strong and powerful, but in some ways he was gentler, kinder, just a little. He knew what this new power meant to him, and it cultivated his compassion even as it cemented his stubbornness and his heart to care for those who couldn't defend themselves. He had seen Pierce and his two sons, but not the third, not the one he'd really wanted to see, and so as soon as he was able, Steve snuck off on his own, padding through the forest floor and sniffing at the air, scenting his oldest friend in the wind.

He caught him, and had set off in pursuit, finally catching sight of him, a magnificently beautiful black wolf in the midst of polishing off his meal. Bucky hadn't noticed him quite yet, not when he was downwind, but Steve wasn't interested in sneaking up on him, looping around to come from the front. Bucky might be an alpha, but he was incredibly dangerous when startled, and he hadn't wanted their first meeting after so long to be violent.

His words are thoughts, clear and loud in the other's mind. Buck? ]

[He was polishing off the last of the meat and left behind the pelt, soft and pretty, though needed to have the obvious blood stains removed. He had an aunt that could work miracles with this stuff and would use it to trade among the other clans and packs that were in the area. Waste not, want not was a family tradition and part of the way that his grandfather ruled with an iron fist. It made them better, stronger and sometimes far more secretive than the rest of their kin, but it also meant power which was important in getting their way among the others.

His dark ears flicked forward at the faint sound in the grass ahead of him, but at this time of night with all the other packs coming in, it wasn't unusual for such sounds. He licked at the pelt, preparing to simply grab it and go back to the gathering grounds when a familiar voice brushed his mind. His head jerked up to peer through the trees until a golden flick of colour caught his attention.]

Stevie?

[He was up and on all four paws in an instance as he recognized his old friend from so long ago. Excitement as seeing the other wold flooded him, and he issued a loud ahwoo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo of wolfish greeting into the air, bounding and prancing and wheeling over to his friend, his tail rising half way up his hunches which was too high for an omega, but he didn't care. Steve never cared about status, and this was no time for formality.

He closed the distance and would have tackled the golden wolf over when, in closing the distance, he realized how big Steve was, now taller in the shoulder than he was when before it had been opposite. He instead rammed his head up under Steve's chin, issuing another happy ahwoooooooo and sidling into his friend.]

When did you get so big? What sort of human-tainted ponds were you drinking from, my little friend?

[ Steve was similarly delighted to know it was him, nevermind that he could see Bucky's tail rising in greeting -- his scent was heady, almost intoxicating, and he rubbed back against him, happy to be nudged up against. He had missed him so sorely for the past couple of years, and he yipped, issuing a similar howl before he started to lick his dearest, dearest friend's ears. And face. And everywhere he could reach.

He was excited, wagging almost violently as he sniffed at Bucky, pressing his nose into his flank, underneath, before nudging under his chin in turn even if he was the bigger one now. ]

Grandfather did something to me, Buck. Made me stronger and bigger. Definitely not any human ponds! You look good.

[ Steve licked his face again, his neck, anywhere he could reach as he took in his friend once more, impossibly fond and loving -- it mattered that Bucky was omega, but not in the way that everyone else had thought; it mattered because Steve knew who he wanted as a partner, his equal. ] Missed you.

[Steve's scent was different from when they were younger, though he had always been of the opinion that his golden friend would be an alpha. There was no way that someone as small but scrappy as Steve would ever differentiate into anything but an alpha, and he was pleased with the strength of his friend's body and scent, delighted to have Steve back even if it was for a gather of this magnitude and importance.

His tail remained half-down, still wagging in puppy greeting as he returned the favour of licking Steve's ears and the back of his friend's neck. He lifted a leg slightly to allow Steve to sniff him, squirming playfully with the nudging and giving it back until he came around and lay belly down on the ground and sniffed under Steve's flank, licking his friend's inner thigh to taste and then pull away to return to his dearest friend's ears.

He had always liked grooming Steve's ears. Now was no different.]

Well if anyone deserved to be this big and handsome for more future scraping, it's you. I'm one of the best chasers in the pack. My aim is almost always perfect.

[He gave a playful bow of his front end and then bounded around Steve happily after they had shared such grooming of one another. He flicked his head up and curled his upper lip in a submissive grin.] Missed me, really? You won't for long... there will be a line-up to sniff at you when we get to the gathering. Unless of course your grandfather has a match in mind already?

[ 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.

[It didn't matter to him how old they were, he and Steve would always be rolling uncoordinated puppies that found each other in the pile. He had sucked on Steve's ears, little black tail wagging in the face of puppy growls and they had played when no other would with Steve. They had played and played, and now they did the same here and now. Friends from the beginning and never to falter in his mind.

He bounded and capered and wheeled about, showing both his agility but also his continued excitement to be close to Steve again. His friend was big and impressive, all muscle and strength and bulk, the kind of werewolf that could make strong ties with many of the other clans, make strong pups of the brightest gold. Steve deserved that happiness, that life after so long fighting for everything just because.

He didn't deny that Steve's scent filled his head pleasantly and tickled at the warmth in his belly that would make itself fully known in a day or so. On a primal level, Steve had always been what he wanted, but logically, he knew it was not meant to be. His grandfather expected to use him to gather in another pack alliance somewhere far away.

He and Steve were close to home, no particular benefit for their pairing. He wanted it, especially as he groomed the other and made happy noises. He hadn't known how much he wanted it until this bounding play, and there was a part of him that knew if he flagged his tail and pressed his hips into Steve and felt the heavy weight of the other on his back... he'd ruin every plan that his grandfather had for him and the future ties.

He nudged Steve's snout with his own in return before he dipped his head until his brow was under his friend's strong jaw.] ...it won't happen. Grandfather has... plans for me this gather. I'm... well, I'm his bargaining chip for a new alliance.

[ Steve frowned, and this time the growl that issued from deep in his throat was a good few shades more menacing. He had never really liked Bucky's grandfather, even if Steve had shown him the due respect an elder of his clan deserved. But the idea of Bucky used as a bargaining chip, his Bucky, the pup he had grown up with, the one who had finished his fights for him when he had been bitten and bleeding from the others -- the thought of that infuriated him. ]

You're more than just a chip, Bucky.

[ He knew how their people worked, he knew that omegas were prized creatures, venerated for breeding, ferocious in their own right but always, always used as valuable aseets for any alliance, any negotiation.

Omegas were important currency, and it made Steve sick to think of them as any of that, especially his best friend. His hackles were raised, happy noises dissipating -- he had gently asked Erskine to help, to see if they could make a match, because to him, Steve was his right partner and they both knew it, even if Steve was too inexperienced to know any better.

He rubbed against him, his jaw over his ears, his head, nuzzling in open affection and want, instinct blossoming inside of him that he fought to keep in check. ]

You're important, not a pawn to be used. What are your plans? Does he know?

[He turned his head to regard Steve's growl, far more menacing than ever before. He nuzzled the now larger wolf, licking at Steve's lips in an attempt to placate his friend's anger towards the way that the world worked among them. It wasn't that he had accepted it, but he knew that crossing his grandfather would be hard on his family and dangerous for him.]

I'm aware of that, Stevie, but my grandfather has built our pack up from very little. He deserves my respect, even if...

[He had his doubts, and he knew that his status would mark him as little more than a breeding bitch for his first few years. He would be allowed to hunt if he was lucky but otherwise, he would be a prize in a trade agreement. Not like with Steve, he knew who would cherish him for being him just as he always cherished his golden friend with the mouth too big to keep out of trouble.

He sighed heavily and nuzzled Steve back, licking at ears again before nudging at his friend with his forepaws to 'convince' Steve to lay down.]

I know better than to make plans. If I had my choice... well, I always liked the idea of golden little pups.

[ Golden little pups. Steve hadn't thought that far ahead yet, but the idea didn't trouble him -- no, he liked it, he liked the idea of it; that Bucky could be the one by his side as they forged a new future on their own.

He hated the idea of BUcky being a breeding bitch, pushed to birthing new young wolves for an alpha who would not know what he had. He hated thinking of Bucky being reduced to it -- his best friend was both lover and fighter, strong and compassionate and everything that he'd ever adored about him, and for his grandfather to take all of that and reduce it to a single function was infuriating.

Steve settled down at his friend's nudging, still growling, teeth bared at nothing in particular -- he could not keep quiet about this, he would never do that; and he would protect Bucky with everything that he had. He thought of little golden pups, the idea that his Bucky could carry them, and Steve thought of being the proud father, of having a litter of their own... ]

Black pups, too. Some of them need to look like you. [ He paused. ] I hate the idea of seeing you with someone else. I'm going to talk to Pierce. Make him see that we could be good together.

[He draped himself down across Steve's shoulders when the larger male settled down, ignoring the growling. He knew it was not towards him but towards the situation, though after a few years separation, it was probably jumping the gun talking about bonding on such a level. He liked to think it was just because his heat was so close that his mind drifted that way; his mother called it baby brain and chuckled about how it would pass.

He just wanted to enjoy his time with Steve now that he had his friend back. Suddenly the gather was far more entertaining as he considered the antics he and Steve could get up to, the team up battles they could participate in, friends they could together lounge around with, how he could now shoo his brothers away with Steve's help or just plain harass them. Ah, it was good to be a wolf with Steve.

He nibbled at the back of Steve's ears, smoothing the hair and making certain it was all clean. He hummed at the returned comment, his tail wagging slightly.]

Better they look like you and act like me. I at least know how to behave myself. [He gave a wolfish chortle and suddenly bit the back of Steve's neck in a gesture of all play.] He knows we would be good together, but we live in the same area. He's building alliances with packs far away from here. Schmidt has apparently shown interest. [It was his turn to growl at the very idea.]

[ Steve's mood darkens, spurred on by Bucky's evident dissatisfaction by it. He knew of Schmidt and his pack, the danger that lurked on the the fringes; and he had never liked Schmidt, not his calculating ways, the beady way he looked at Bucky sometimes.

His hackles were raised again, despite Bucky's efforts to smooth them over, and he makes to get up -- the growing bits of good mood tanking. He didn't want to see Bucky joined with him, to be set aside by him just to be bred, his best friend would be miserable for it, and his heart ached at that thought.

He shifted his head to nuzzle against his, snout rubbing along Bucky's own with a renewed enthusiasm. ] Not him. You can't go with him. You won't be happy.

[Schmidt had quite the reputation of gathering power in the East, and the werewolf's pack was considerable. Already, he had seen his grandfather speaking with Schmidt, and there had been a few looks his way. It would not be a happy or even friendly alliance as far as he was concerned, not when he was certain that Schmidt had an omega already but was refusing to admit that any of the older pups belong to that bloodline.

He licked at Steve's hackles even as they rose, but he was dislodged from his lounging when his friend rose. He backed off and set all four paws on the ground again, making a show of stretching so as to seem casual even if this conversation made him anything but.

He licked at Steve's muzzle with puppy kisses.] Ah well... alliances aren't always about happiness, Stevie. It's about the boon it brings. I'm... well, it won't be horrible. [He knew it would be. He submissive grinned again.] Why don't we tromp around before heading to the gathering, yeah?

[ No, no. Steve didn't want to accept them, tense as he bared his teeth in slow growing anger -- even when he was smaller, his own temper and recklessness had been his defining trait. Even now, too, on behalf of a soul he loved so much. He hated the way Bucky acceped what was to be his fate, he hated the idea that Schmidt would one day claim Bucky as his own. He'd heard the rumors, of course, of an omega that he'd had -- and to have such a ruthless creature claiming his Bucky made his blood boil.

He snarled quietly, but settled a little more to enjoy the kisses, soft and sweet and innocent, and he ducked his head to rub against his jaw, to lick his face openly, boldly. ] You're trying to change the subject. I want you to be happy, you deserve all of it.

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