(For 163/assailments)

[nonfrangible]

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.

Comments

[163]

[ 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? ]

[nonfrangible]

[The gathering was nice, the friends were fun, and the contests were worth every bit of energy that he had to spend in them. There was all the usual political maneuvering that had nothing to do with him or the younger wolves, and that left him plenty of time to spend with Steve. He was very taken with his golden friend, and they spent long hours catching up, playing around and grooming. He didn't care how it came across either, especially when watching Steve compete against other alphas on some of fighting challenges; he only had one wolf to cheer for. There was only one real choice. It was always Steve.

The only problem was his family, mostly his grandfather who had not been convinced by any negotiating or arguing that he or Steve had made to allow them to be together. If anything, his grandfather made it insufferable to be at the family camp, and when he wasn't, one of his brothers was usually following him around keeping an eye on him. They didn't, however, stop him from interacting with Steve, just a presence here and there to let him know that his wayward antics would be reported and grandfather would make his life very difficult.

It was the last full day of the celebration and debates, and he finally couldn't take it anymore. An argument about his future had turned into snarling and actual fighting, which had driven him from his family encampment. He left with little more than the clothes that he had and sprinted off into the woods, aware that the fight would eventually get back to Steve. He was done; he believed too strongly that the golden wolf was his and for him that it was insufferable to stay as it was. He'd take being disowned over this.

James ran until his legs were tired and his heat picking at his skin. He found himself back and spot on the rocks where he could look down into the small sloping valley and see anyone coming to his position. He'd wait. Steve would come; they had talked about eloping already though he had always been the one to refuse. Now he was ready if Steve was still willing. They'd go away and have a pack of their own; the world was theirs to find a territory in.]