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Who: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
When: When Bucky is recruited
What: Giant werewolf is brow-beat by a fiesty little human best friend to bite on the full moon so that Steve can also join the war effort.
Warnings: TBA
[When he had been a puppy, he had been found cold, wet and abandoned by a pack on the run. The rain had been heavy the last few days, and he soft whining had attracted nothing in the way of help. Close to the orphanage and in a time when so many children were being left under government care, he had been found by a small blond boy. Inside that thread-bear jacket, against ribs that protruded too much and with a wheeze to he breath that was not his own, he had been made to feel welcome, to give up the crying whines of a pup and settle close to the new source of warmth.
Wolves of their specific kind learned to change early, usually be some mistake. He had learned with a particularly fierce sneeze, shifting from wolf pup to boy. He had no been rejected and instead had been taken to the orphanage where he learned to suppress some of his wolfish urges and take on the human ones. It was necessary for survival, but also it allowed him to be close to his best friend who needed constant minding or would be neck-deep in trouble at all hours of the day.
Steve Rogers was a fierce creature, all biting wit, knobby elbows and a cough that could bowl the other boy over. Years didn't put much in the way of weight or height on Steve, but that burning life could not be snuffed out despite many close calls. When Steve was confined to be alone, he had made certain to sneak into the room, pad over on four paws - immune to human disease - and settle in to keep his best friend warm. It was the wolf instinct, he supposed, as he needed to protect pack. Steve was as close as he thought to come.
There weren't many wolves in the big city, but their paths beyond it were clear. Once a month on the full moon, he was required to change and his dark coat gave him certain privileges when skirting the city streets and keen eyed strangers. A big dog they would say, and that was fine until he hit puberty and then big dog turned into a massive animal, long sleek black fur around his neck and the middle of his back. Always once a month he would run, and if Steve was well enough (and usually when the blond wasn't), he would take them from the city so that Steve could cling to his back as he loped through the lands beyond the press of the city. They had freedom there, a way to watch the stars, to hunt down rabbits in the bushes, to be nothing more or less than pack.
The years had been good to them. He learned to be a wolf. Steve learned to fight the limitations of body and society. It was good years filled with fighting in the streets, fighting in alleys and behind diners. Steve almost always started those fights, but he would never allow his friend to fight alone regardless of the odds.
The war came, and Steve wanted to join and it was the first fissure of their relationship. What was a human war to someone like him, one where the bullets of men couldn't hurt him, the political leans of people far beyond their station dictated who they would send overseas. It was the first time he had a distinct lack of interest in human affairs, but Steve was gamely and set on joining, on proving that all men had a right to serve. He couldn't help it; he was inspired. Steve always managed that in him.
He'd taught his best friend and human packmate how to punch, to box specifically. Teeth and claw were not fit for the trials of war, and Steve had none of those weapons. So they fought for a week, and while he said nothing of what the outcome would be, he followed Steve into the recruitment station. He, fit and able-bodied, James "Bucky" Barnes was taken for human war while Steve Rogers was rejected. It was survival of the fittest out there, and he expected to simply become a wolf and walk away from it all. Why should he fight when Steve was the one who had to go, to prove something to everyone and do right by the blond's own sense of justice?
Bucky hadn't thought about it much, thought about how he was much too big to be lounging on the narrow bed that Steve owned, how it creaked under his weight. He was on his back, all four paws in the air and rubbing his back on the blankets and listening to the springs protest with a simple sense of joy about it. His mouth hung open, tongue lapping at his lips as he wiggled and flicked his big tail. The bed was not made for him; he slept on the floor and Steve generally on top of him for warmth and comfort, but it was fun to mess the sheets.
The full moon was a few hours away, the dusk just coming about. He had no particular reason to be a wolf, but there was a simple pleasure in it within the confine space of Steve's apartment. Despite the rejection and their previous 'arguments' about him considering refusing to show up for base training, he had managed to badger Steve into agreeing to go for a long run beyond New York. It was easier to do with so many people focused on the war.
He growled playfully as he bit the pillow nearby and shook it as if killing a rabbit. His paws kicked in the air and he finally rolled off the bed, shaking out his massive body and settling the long hair around the back of his neck and down his spine. He yawned, wagging his tail and peered at the blond who was far too quiet and concentrating seriously. That usually meant trouble.
When did Steve Rogers NOT mean trouble?]
Hey pal, you've been awful quiet tonight. It's full moon! We always love the full moon, all that running! I plan on getting a fat coney tonight! Maybe it will put some meat on those ribs of yours.
[It literally took him two massive steps to come up behind Steve and rest his massive head on the back of the blond.]
Come on, cheer up! Rabbit stew!
When: When Bucky is recruited
What: Giant werewolf is brow-beat by a fiesty little human best friend to bite on the full moon so that Steve can also join the war effort.
Warnings: TBA
[When he had been a puppy, he had been found cold, wet and abandoned by a pack on the run. The rain had been heavy the last few days, and he soft whining had attracted nothing in the way of help. Close to the orphanage and in a time when so many children were being left under government care, he had been found by a small blond boy. Inside that thread-bear jacket, against ribs that protruded too much and with a wheeze to he breath that was not his own, he had been made to feel welcome, to give up the crying whines of a pup and settle close to the new source of warmth.
Wolves of their specific kind learned to change early, usually be some mistake. He had learned with a particularly fierce sneeze, shifting from wolf pup to boy. He had no been rejected and instead had been taken to the orphanage where he learned to suppress some of his wolfish urges and take on the human ones. It was necessary for survival, but also it allowed him to be close to his best friend who needed constant minding or would be neck-deep in trouble at all hours of the day.
Steve Rogers was a fierce creature, all biting wit, knobby elbows and a cough that could bowl the other boy over. Years didn't put much in the way of weight or height on Steve, but that burning life could not be snuffed out despite many close calls. When Steve was confined to be alone, he had made certain to sneak into the room, pad over on four paws - immune to human disease - and settle in to keep his best friend warm. It was the wolf instinct, he supposed, as he needed to protect pack. Steve was as close as he thought to come.
There weren't many wolves in the big city, but their paths beyond it were clear. Once a month on the full moon, he was required to change and his dark coat gave him certain privileges when skirting the city streets and keen eyed strangers. A big dog they would say, and that was fine until he hit puberty and then big dog turned into a massive animal, long sleek black fur around his neck and the middle of his back. Always once a month he would run, and if Steve was well enough (and usually when the blond wasn't), he would take them from the city so that Steve could cling to his back as he loped through the lands beyond the press of the city. They had freedom there, a way to watch the stars, to hunt down rabbits in the bushes, to be nothing more or less than pack.
The years had been good to them. He learned to be a wolf. Steve learned to fight the limitations of body and society. It was good years filled with fighting in the streets, fighting in alleys and behind diners. Steve almost always started those fights, but he would never allow his friend to fight alone regardless of the odds.
The war came, and Steve wanted to join and it was the first fissure of their relationship. What was a human war to someone like him, one where the bullets of men couldn't hurt him, the political leans of people far beyond their station dictated who they would send overseas. It was the first time he had a distinct lack of interest in human affairs, but Steve was gamely and set on joining, on proving that all men had a right to serve. He couldn't help it; he was inspired. Steve always managed that in him.
He'd taught his best friend and human packmate how to punch, to box specifically. Teeth and claw were not fit for the trials of war, and Steve had none of those weapons. So they fought for a week, and while he said nothing of what the outcome would be, he followed Steve into the recruitment station. He, fit and able-bodied, James "Bucky" Barnes was taken for human war while Steve Rogers was rejected. It was survival of the fittest out there, and he expected to simply become a wolf and walk away from it all. Why should he fight when Steve was the one who had to go, to prove something to everyone and do right by the blond's own sense of justice?
Bucky hadn't thought about it much, thought about how he was much too big to be lounging on the narrow bed that Steve owned, how it creaked under his weight. He was on his back, all four paws in the air and rubbing his back on the blankets and listening to the springs protest with a simple sense of joy about it. His mouth hung open, tongue lapping at his lips as he wiggled and flicked his big tail. The bed was not made for him; he slept on the floor and Steve generally on top of him for warmth and comfort, but it was fun to mess the sheets.
The full moon was a few hours away, the dusk just coming about. He had no particular reason to be a wolf, but there was a simple pleasure in it within the confine space of Steve's apartment. Despite the rejection and their previous 'arguments' about him considering refusing to show up for base training, he had managed to badger Steve into agreeing to go for a long run beyond New York. It was easier to do with so many people focused on the war.
He growled playfully as he bit the pillow nearby and shook it as if killing a rabbit. His paws kicked in the air and he finally rolled off the bed, shaking out his massive body and settling the long hair around the back of his neck and down his spine. He yawned, wagging his tail and peered at the blond who was far too quiet and concentrating seriously. That usually meant trouble.
When did Steve Rogers NOT mean trouble?]
Hey pal, you've been awful quiet tonight. It's full moon! We always love the full moon, all that running! I plan on getting a fat coney tonight! Maybe it will put some meat on those ribs of yours.
[It literally took him two massive steps to come up behind Steve and rest his massive head on the back of the blond.]
Come on, cheer up! Rabbit stew!
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He wasn't the fastest but he could be quick. He couldn't hit the hardest but he could land a solid punch where he meant to put it. And if someone got him down, he'd get right back up again.
They didn't even let him get a word out. He didn't tell Bucky, but he went to two more recruiting stations after the first time and each one was a progressively shorter visit. Formally certified three times over. Steve Rogers (from Brooklyn, from New Haven ,from Paramus, sure) was one unanimous '4F' and there wasn't much he could do to convince anybody otherwise.
Bucky always started to get antsy around the full moons. He tracked it to at least a week off, his best friend would be more physical and affectionate. He'd shift a little more just because though it was hard for him to roam around the neighborhood without scaring somebody anymore. A dog the size of a horse would guarantee to do that much. Usually, his antics were pretty amusing even if they did have to clean it all up once he was done fooling around. Usually, Steve would be wrestling around with him, acting like they were kids again.
He was idling over his sketchbook but nothing was going down on the page when Bucky came over, a mass of warmth and familiar fur who could look over him while he was sitting in a chair. Steve shrugged, straightened out from his brooding hunch and looked over his shoulder.]
You've been trying that for years and it's never happened. Tonight's not gonna be any different.
[He turned around, snagging Bucky's muzzle with a little huff before he settled for scratching behind his left ear. One of his favorite spots.]
Don't you get tired of carrying me around? You're gonna be gone, I should probably get used to staying in on the full moon.
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He shifted his head up enough that he wasn't crushing Steve down to the table, easily towering over his best friend, but his black bushy tail wagged with rising excitement. Normally, he would grab Steve by the head and drag his friend over to the bed to wrestle like a pair of puppies, but the intense broody silence from Steve meant that his efforts had to be more subtle. He had to cheer the blond up before he could engage them in such fun antics... before heading out into the streets around dinner time when most people were in their homes.]
Come on, it's the efforts that make the difference. How is it my fault the rabbits around here are so small anyway? I need a big coney the size of a buck. [Which he was more than aware happened to be impossible to come by, but a wolf could dream.] Why do you have to be so logical in crushing my dreams, Rogers?
[He dipped his head with the hands on his muzzle, a low pleasure groan leaving him at the scratching. His ear flicked and his head tilted in the direction. That was one of his favourite spots.]
I'm not going anywhere, and no, I don't get tired carrying you around. This is our night together, and I won't give it up for anything.
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It wasn't jealousy. He just envied Bucky, sometimes. He wanted it to be just a bit different for him despite doing his damned best with what he had and was.
Steve kept scratching but he leaned forward, raking down Bucky's neck until he could loop his arms around the thick trunk of it and press his face pressed into the familiar soft-gloss and thick of Bucky's fur. He squeezed tight briefly, nuzzling in as an apology. Sorry, and he was. Being such a pill.]
Because we're pack, right? You and me, like we've always been. But Buck, I keep thinking -- what if I was for real?
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He stepped in the ring of Steve's thin arms, lifting his head enough to not bump it before allowing it down again to rest against Steve's back. If he settled down, he knew the exact way to pull Steve into his ruff of fur and almost make the blond disappear completely. It was a game he liked to play, another source of endless fun that he had with his best friend.
He huffed and groaned at the apology. Did he ever really need one from Steve? Well, there were times when the fights seemed a little too egged on by Steve's part, and then he might think he was owed something akin to an apology for wading in to pick up his friend like Steve was a soaked kitten, all piss and vinegar.]
We are pack, Steve, and we always will be. [He tilted his head and swiveled his ears at the question. For him, it didn't make sense. They were pack.] How is it not real, pal? We do everything together that we can.
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[That was the real crux of everything. They were pack. Bucky was his family too. They knew one another like the back of their own hands. He knew all the shifts of Bucky's moods and how they went with the phases of the moon. Not like they were tied to it, but sensitive. He was always his brightest around the full moon, filled up with restless energy and the promise of being able to stretch out on all four legs and run.
Even though Steve would climb up on his back to ride along, to let the wind cut his cheeks and hold on with his knees pressed into the powerful expanse of Bucky's sides, he'd wondered here and there what it'd be like to the do the same himself. He just never put much weight into those occasional thoughts.
Not until now.
He had to ease back into the chair to unearth himself from the mass of Bucky's fur, taking a good bit of stray hair with him -- though that was nothing new.]
We can't do everything because I'm not a wolf.
[His brows drew down and he rubbed his hands over his pants, chewing on the inside of his cheek.]
What if you made me one, like what happened in that picture? [The month that The Wolf Man came out Bucky dragged them both to see it twice dumping their extra change into tickets and popcorn which he practically devoured with his attention still rapt on the screen while Steve fought for the occasional handful. Pretty much nothing about the entire flick was true, and he'd asked. Steve thought it was ridiculous, personally.
Now he was just hoping a few of those things could be true.]
What if that helped, Bucky? We'd have to do it tonight, right? We could do it. You could-- and then if it worked maybe that'd make me stronger and we could both be enlisted.
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And with this phase of the moon, he was even more excited to spend time with Steve. It was practically tradition in his mind, and wolves always ran together with their pack. It was necessity to experience the full swell of the moon, to release all that energy together, to bond and hunt and play fight with each other as they developed skills. A part of him knew that everything ran higher and most matings occurred on the full moon, but he had neither mate nor opportunity to find one. So far, it also hadn't interested him.
He let Steve return to the chair, his ears flicking forward and his tongue flicking against his lips as he moved around to seat himself next to the blond. The fact that Steve wasn't a wolf never bothered him, and he normally wouldn't have even entertained the idea if he wasn't so close to the full moon when all the instincts of being exactly what he was born to be lurked so close to the surface.
The question caused his ears to flatten against his skull and he curled his upper lip in a brief snarl before he turned his head aside and rose to pace away from Steve. Restless, he shook his head and his coat, the question sometimes between them but never given voice. He wasn't raised in a wolf pack, but there were aspects of being one that came naturally, knowledge provided in instinctual urges, and he knew that if he bit Steve, opened the blond up and then transferred some of his blood taint that the blond would make the change over the course of the next month.
A part of him could imagine Steve's tawny hide.]
It's not... like the picture show. There is... a ritual to it, and the change in painful. [He flicked his tail, agitated as he paced. Steve had already endured so much pain in the past, and why should he consider putting the blond through more?] The chance from human to lycan can kill you. And is enlisting the only reason that you're suggesting this?
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Determination set in his jaw. He pulled his hand back and rightened up as much as his crooked spine could go, watching Bucky pace their bedroom with a tug of regret on marring this night out of all of them. Full moons were sacred. Whatever was troubling them through the rest of the night was dropped. They didn't spend the time worrying about how much they had until Bucky's next paycheck or how long it'd be until Steve got his next set of commissions, if he should try looking for a steady job instead. They rarely fought honestly, but if any nagging annoyances were still hanging around, the night out and a good run chase the whole lot of them out. Bucky would come back light as a feather, smelling like pine-needles, like earth, like freedom. Steve might not have looked so imbued himself, but he always felt better too. Some of his best work happened in following days.
But this...this was important. This was worth jarring their tradition.]
I figured it'd hurt, Bucky. I'm not scared about that. I'm not scared about it killin' me either. Rather go out like that than some flu, if I get to have a say of it. But it's not like I'm planning on it, either. [He wet his lips, eyes dropping a moment before they came back strong.]
It ain't just enlisting. [No, not really. Though the drive to go and do something -- just anything -- was clamoring in him.] If it isn't the War then it's...it's gonna be something else one of these days. I just know there's going to be something and you're gonna have to go and I won't be able to go with you...
And I don't want that.
[Softer.]
You're all I've got, Buck.
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It wasn't that he hadn't entertained the idea after all. It had come and gone on more than one occasion when the blond's thin legs clung to his sides as he loped along game trails or through open fields. He often thought of how exhilarating it would be to have another wolf running alongside him, their shoulders bumping, paws raking up the grass, the world laid out around them as if for their taking.
He had almost suggested it, but a part of him knew the struggle that came with a change even for one who was able-bodied. He had read legends of werewolves, angry and vengeful at humans, who had turned their teeth on them for the simple purpose of killing them with the change. Their bodies literally ripped themselves apart, unable to handle the strain. He couldn't do that to Steve, wouldn't risk his packmate and best friend on that possibility. Steve was all that he had and without the blond, there was no reason to stay in the city, and he was old enough where he had no doubt that finding a pack would be difficult. Steve was his pack; he wanted no one else. They had been together too long for him to consider anyone else.
He curled his lips in another snarl. Steve could argue reasonably, but his friend so often discounted the danger. It wasn't because Steve had a death wish but because the other man had been through so much already.] You are never happy unless you're fighting something, pal. Disease, bullies, a war... have you even thought about what would happen if you were able-bodied like this?
[Despite himself, he kept his distance when normally he would be all up in Steve's face, headbutting and nudging his friend. Here, the conversation was too serious for that and he felt the urge to simply give in as an undercurrent. Steve might not be afraid, but Bucky was. Steve was all that he had.]
I promised you when I was a puppy and you took me that I would be with you until the very end. I don't plan on changing that.
[He whined and turned in a circle, which was awkward given how small a space he inhabited so far away from Steve.]
You are all I have, and if I lose you... especially because of something I did... God Steve, I don't know if I could live with it. You're my best friend, my pack.
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'Probably land a few more punches than I've been doing lately.
[It was dry humor. He could hear the hundred thousand of times Bucky had pleaded for him to let something or the other go, to not slog his way right into a fight in his best friend's growling voice. Steve couldn't deny what he was saying as true, he wasn't happy about the state of the world but it felt right not letting it slide right by him unchecked. He was a fighter, all the old nuns said that whether in dismay with his tousled, muddy state coming back from a wild afternoon or checking in on his bedside while he fought another inevitable fever off.
He'd gotten Last Rights twice now and come back from the brink both times.]
You know you would be, Buck, even if that happened. It wouldn't break your promise -- I'm asking you, buddy.
[He sighed, standing up and crossing over the room, the plea etched between his brows.]
How bad is it gonna be? [If Bucky was worried about him rushing into this then he'd listen to everything it'd be.]
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It was why he was so loyal. That was his main trait, enhanced with his wolfish nature. It just so happened that Steve was the one that his loyalty had locked onto, though he never refrained from assisting others in a tight spot either. What would Steve's main trait be? Probably an innate goodness to do the right thing. Or maybe it would be the inability to kick the bucket so to speak. The ever immortal Steve Rogers.
He eyed Steve for a long time, wary and sad because he knew this fight was over before it had even begun. He would do anything for Steve, even the things that Steve never asked for... like a damn good nagging for waging personal war when one wasn't necessary. His ears flicked forward and then laid flat against his head again, a whine leaving him as he turned around again as if searching for a spot to escape to.]
I don't know. I just know... I can, but the details haven't been taught to be. I imagine that the change is agony, that it takes considerable energy and mental fortitude. [He stepped forward as Steve approached, bumping his head into the smaller man's chest.] If you die... James Barnes will cease to exist. I want you to understand that.
[The human aspect of him would disappear, and he would allow himself to be a wolf only. It might be the only way to escape his pain at losing Steve.]
However, if you're going to do something so stupid, I should be there as both witness and so I can wade in to assist. You know you go right off the rails when you get all righteous!
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That lacked more often than he liked. But right now was the time to do it if there was any. Their training over the past week had him feeling hardier than he had in years. Steve scratched soothingly, pressing a kiss to one of Bucky's flat ears and then another.]
I understand. [And what Bucky was entrusting him with. He had a good life as a human, friends and work and a world he'd been in for most of his life. You could practically say he knew it better than anything else. He never tried to go and seek out other wolves. It'd be hard, it'd hurt and he didn't, he wouldn't cause Bucky any more pain after this.] I swear I'm going to give this my everything. I'm not gonna die on you. That'd be too easy, defeat the whole point of trying to change.
The fights don't matter if you aren't there. Nothing matters. So you better be. I need you.
[Steve rubbed his cheek against Bucky's muzzle, pulling back to give him a tilted smile. His heart was beating hard, drumming fast because it seemed so impossible and reckless that there might finally be something that could help. What kind of wolf would he be? Would they still work if they were the same?
And honestly, if Bucky refused to go anywhere once they we done with this, if he wanted to meld into the woods and forget the human world, Steve would try for him. He couldn't imagine going off, even if it was to the war and doing it alone.] You think it would be better to head out to do this or stay here?
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His ears flicked as if annoyed by the kissing, but he understood that being strong and able-bodied, being taken seriously and possibly being able to make a different meant a lot to Steve. For all of his friend's efforts, Steve had not yet known the value of being a strong man before. That could change so much, but at the blond's base, Steve would always be Steve.
He issued a high-pitch growl and then sneezed, peering at Steve when there was a cheek rubbing on his muzzle. He shook himself free of Steve's grip, his tail tucking between his hind legs and his head drooping slightly.]
I'll do this with you, but I expect great things from you, Rogers. [He stepped away as he decided to take a risk on this.] We go to the forest where the earth smells moist and friendly. Bring an extra pair of clothing and some extra food if we have any.
[He stepped away to head to the door and flopping himself down there in a heap, mind still ticking its way through the pros and cons of doing this. He could gain another wolf or lose everything.] It's not too late to say no either. You can change your mind at any time. [He knew that Steve wouldn't though.]
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It still reminded him of that day he pulled Bucky out of the rain, unable to just walk away -- especially after the way Bucky had looked at him.]
You remember the last time I had pneumonia real bad, right? Nobody, nobody, thought I was gonna pull through, they got the Father Coyle and everything but you said the whole time I wasn't gonna go, Buck. You believed in me. [He moved quick, like if he didn't Bucky would change mind for good. Once the clothes were in he stepped over the mass of Bucky's body, pushing into the main room of their flat to grab what bread they had left, two tuna cans and shoved the rest of the bag of jerky in there too. Things that would keep.
Then he went back to the doorway and Bucky.] You're laying around like I'm already gone and if you keep that up, we'll miss the next bus out of the city.
[He steps over again and a few seconds later there's Bucky's hastily shed pants and shirt pelted at his head. You can't take a wolf on the bus and the woods Bucky liked the best took half an hour to get to.]
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using a big steve icon feels so weird oh my god
Hunka hunka mcjustice pants
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fin?
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They slept in piles. Mixes of fur and skin, fur on fur, or skin on skin matching. What little space that existed between the two of them pretty much evaporated around those times and most every other point in which they had relative privacy. Whatever tension and fighting got raised during the day never made enough of a barrier that he didn't want to be by Bucky. They'd bare teeth, snarl and growl but nothing would change the fundamental truth between them.
They were pack. Whatever they did, wherever they went, they did it together.
Steve read the paper aloud every day to highlight his point about enlisting. The need. Maybe this is bigger than something just for humans, Buck. After three weeks of his own blitz, Bucky gave in. They went right over and were practically dragged into the line.
Bootcamp proved to be its own sort of beast. His mother and the nuns at the orphanage had reminded him from time to time that his father served, that he went into the same He couldn't imagine how far he would have gotten with his old body, if he'd ever been taken in to the Army in the first place. They had to work to not stand out too much against the other men but still prove their worth. Steve especially wanted to be taken seriously.
While they ended up in the same regiment they didn't end up in the same squad but the potential for separation could have been much worse. He still knew that was just more fodder on Bucky's end as to why this was a bad idea and he didn't like the distance much either. They made sure to eat together as much as possible, citing the truth of their lifelong friendship when anyone asked after it. The full moon came and they snuck out late into the night creeping to the edge of the base until they could strip down and finally stretch their legs with a run that was too brief. He'd been all about ready to crawl out of his skin and he sensed the same with Bucky, by the way he threw himself into running. By the time they finished the initial sprint their sides were heaving and they had to flop down onto the ground. They chased a couple of squirrels that weren't expecting the huge day and night of them to come barreling through the woods, tussled with each other and then had to creep back to the camp two hours before dawn.
(He almost got caught. Agent Carter, with her mean right hook, red lips and her unshakable confidence. caught him once he split up from Bucky on the way back to the barracks. She'd asked about him out so early and he fumbled, eventually coming up with the lame excuse of needing fresh air.
He didn't think she believed him but she didn't say anything to the Colonel).
What didn't make much sense to him was that he was riled up again about three days later. His skin felt too tight, he was hot all over, sweating through his shirt a lot more than a few minutes and a couple set of push-ups would warrant. The other men in his squad noticed it and commented on various levels from teasing, to jeering, to honest concern.
He shrugged it all off, trying to ignore the way every hand on his shoulder or arm felt electric, until the order came that he needed to turn himself over to medical. Steve went grudgingly, trying to keep an eye out for Bucky somewhere but not finding him there. Bucky never got sick. Wolves didn't get sick.
He didn't know what the hell was going on and it was getting worse.
Agent Carter showed up again before he could be taken back by one of the nurses. She whisked him into a private room at the end of the building, asking after his symptoms and telling him that she used to be a nurse. Then she asked him when the last time his goddamn heat was and all he could do was stare at her dumbfounded.
She looked just as surprised as he did before murmuring something to herself and turning abruptly on her heel with an order to stay right where she was and that she'd be back soon. With Bucky.
He stayed, wondering if he would actually be better cutting out and making a run for it. Had they been found out? Carter smelled human. Everyone on the camp did. They were the only wolves and he didn't think the army knew anything about their kind. Steve waited on the bed in the room, gripping the edge of the mattress as the cramps, the fever and the buzzing irritation that was largely switching over to arousal continued to mount in him. By time he heard footsteps coming back and scented Bucky -- the hint of it making him whine loud enough to be heard through the door before he got a hold on himself -- he couldn't remember ever being harder in his life.
Steve grabbed a pillow, shoving it over his lap since he smelled Carter too and God help him if a woman like that saw the state he was in. He was thankfully Bucky was the only one that stepped through the door, but it seemed to only make everything feel worse with how damn good he smelled.]
Buck -- look, I don't know what's happening here.
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He hoped that with hard work, routine, good meals and company that Steve would give up on the idea of war. Maybe the wolf part simply needed to dig deeper, he would think to himself. After all, his best friend had been human forever and it would take time for the wolf instincts to take over. Steve would probably argue about the value of humanness for them, if his packmate was busy loudly reading the news to him as if he were going deaf. He said nothing, letting the news of war glance off of him as he worked on repairing the knees of the trousers he wore to the docks.
Steve did not, in fact, let the matter go. Arguments were raised, new and interesting each time, and he eventually realized that this was so important to Steve that eventually the blond would go without him. Bucky couldn't let that happen, so he grudgingly agreed, even if he was strict in warning the other wolf that they had to limit themselves and no one could know about them. There's was a secretive life.
So Bucky Barnes found himself in the army, doing pointlessly easy drills to physically work himself, learning to use weapons that would have little to no effect on him and being limited in the hours he slept. He actually quite enjoyed the tactics of war, the hand gestures and even the skill necessary for sniping; he would never openly admit it to Steve who seemed to simply thrive in the environment of order, weapons and a perceived notion of justice. Steve was quick of mind and picked up everything, chattered animatedly on the few occasions they could eat a meal together, and it brought a fond smile to his face. Seeing Steve happy meant a lot to him.
With the full moon, he ran until his paws hurt. He needed it, more so the longer than they ran and bumped against each other. There was something sweet and welcoming about the way that Steve smelled tonight, still earthy and Steve but with an undertone of something he had never actually encountered before. If he spent a little extra time grooming Steve's tail and thighs, it was his business as he tried to place what the scent meant. It was also the first time he risked touching himself in a barracks full of sleeping men.
Yet, back to the routine he fell with his squad for the next few days, always on the look out for Steve as if eager. It was hard to focus at times, but he decided to complain about a lack of sleep the last few days. He could breeze through most exercises regardless, so three days into the meticulous activities of taking apart their rifles and putting them back together in under ten seconds over and over, he found himself drawn from the table in which he was working by Agent Carter. He had met her a few times, but he had carefully avoided her as she seemed to simply know there was more to him.
She gave him little choice, urging him alone and he wasn't hard to convince what with the sweet smell that seemed to cling to her jacket. He leaned in to sniff at it multiple times, his mouth filling with saliva and his senses seeming to heighten with a shivering eagerness that he didn't entirely understand. This had never happened to him before, had never encountered another of his kind in heat and thus he was gobsmacked as she inquired as to when Steve had been in heat before. He stuttered out a reply that he had no idea what she was talking about, but he followed her all the same, practically on her heels as she walked.
Heat? Steve was in heat? Oh he knew what heat was, knew what it meant even if he didn't know how it smelled or tasted or felt, but he had never thought that Steve - his Stevie - would be one to suffer from the condition. For one, the blond was huge, bigger than he was and so golden and beautiful and god, he wanted to nestled his head into Steve's neck or wedge his head under one hind leg to get a good sniff...
Oh God. Steve was in heat.
His senses seemed to peek as he heard the soft whine behind the door, and he couldn't help himself when he issued a deep throaty growl to announce himself as a strong and viable alpha. He picked up his feet, seemed to prance as Agent Carter stared at him, and he tossed his head as a wolf might, turning to advertise himself in all of his full uniformed glory. She looked amused by the display, and he might have been embarrassed had he not currently been overwhelmed with the thought of mate and mine.
Inside he stepped, and the smell of Steve actually staggered him. He hit the wall and covered his face, his shoulders rising as every thought that wasn't wolf was washed away. No war. No army. No care but this smell and that omega. He only barely had enough of his own right mind not to howl, but it was a just thing.]
...are you wet? [He was certainly aroused; his military fatigues couldn't hide it, and if anything, it was yet another advertisement of his prowess.] I think... you smell like you're in heat. You... it will last anywhere from hours to days.
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Needed something else.
That heat was there in another wave as soon as Bucky stumbled in, though he was so surprised to see his packmate stagger back against the wall he was on his feet immediately. He could smell Bucky's arousal: incredible, musky and louder than a five-alarm fire but what really bowled him over was the deep instinctive knowledge that the tent Bucky was already pitching was for him.
It took a second to register what Bucky was telling him and by the time he swam past all the unbridled lust clouding his head he realized he'd crossed the room from the little cot and sunk down on his knees in front of where Bucky was using the wall to keep himself up. His hands were on his best friend's thighs, pushing the fabric of his uniform taut in a way that made the outline of his arousal even more prominent. Was he wet? Shifting, he felt a bit of a strange slickness gathering in the cleft of his ass which definitely had never happened before to him and shouldn't-
They'd touched each other, of course they had. But it'd just been with hands and nuzzling in, relieving tension which wound up in boys and men and felt better when it wasn't just your own hand for once. He known it wasn't proper on human terms; Bucky had never given a damn in his typical way. The only thing was, right now, Steve was sure he wasn't going to be satisfied with getting pulled off, if the way his whole body ached every time he breathed in Bucky's scent was anything to go by.]
Bucky. [Steve finally dragged his eyes up from staring at his friend's crotch, the blue of them sharper, brighter, to the point they looked like they had their own glow.] What do you mean days? We don't got days. I think Agent Carter might know and I -- I thought that was only for other wolves. Wolves that'd be your...
[They didn't talk about it much but it'd come up around the time they'd hit puberty and Bucky kept turning heads. From what little Bucky knew, flirting and dancing hadn't mattered. What mattered was having a mate.]
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He rolled on his feet, rising slightly on his toes as if to add height to impress the blond with, but more he wanted to watch Steve's eyes move with the level of his crotch. His nostrils flared to drink in the scent of arousal between the two of them, so well intermingling like perfumes. All that mattered was that he was alpha and Steve was omega and they would be together as only few wolves could, and the world beyond this room, the people who might suspect and now know be damned to Hell with the war. This was wolf business, and everyone would be better off without an unclaimed omega running around bringing all the wolves to the base.
Slowly, he stepped away from the wall, convincing his feet into motion carefully. He licked his lips, closing the distance between himself and Steve, even if with the blond standing and having come off of the bed there wasn't much room for them to have cover. He leaned up, sniffing at Steve as if the waft of heat hormones wasn't quite potent enough from where he had been standing. He rumbled in his chest, pressing a hand out between them to settle on Steve's belly and then crawl upwards to stroke the left pectoral muscle, fingers brushing purposefully over the nipple there.]
Days, Steve. [His voice was a rough growling, low and deep, his eyes boring into Steve's.] It doesn't matter. Time doesn't matter, not any more. We are together, and I'm going to fuck you for as long as you're in heat. [Under normal circumstances, he would have cringed at the use of his own language of the fact there was no choice. They would be mating.]
You'll be my mate. Won't you? [Colour had raised in his cheeks, his eyes with a glow of their own as he dragged his hand back down Steve's chest and tried his worm his fingers underneath so that they could have skin-to-skin contact for the first time since being locked up together. Again, his mouth seemed to flood with saliva, and he rumbled as he rose so that he could also nip at Steve's chin, bearing his teeth in fun.] It's gonna be so good... I can smell that you're getting wetter. You want me, and God Steve... I want you so bad.
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He was sure under other circumstances he would have balked harder or questioned everything Bucky was telling him would happen. He was a wolf now, their current predicament proving that more than anything else, but he'd been human for years and years more than the last few quick months. There were old lingering fears from all that time. Things he knew Bucky never worried about but nobody ever even thought twice about accusing Bucky of anything like that. He didn't know what Agent Carter thought about it, what she'd tell to their officers if they didn't show up for drills for the next few days.
And under the skim of Bucky's teeth, Steve couldn't exactly gather enough strings together to care.
He pulled his own shirt up, catching onto what Bucky was going after and clamoring to give it to him. He had tilted his head to the side at the nip, eyes slipping shut as a shiver ran down his entire spine but he straightened up and hooked curled fingers into the front of Bucky's shirt to drag him closer. Their foreheads pressed together, Bucky's mercifully cooler than his own. Steve panted, licking his lips and swallowing before he could talk.]
I want you too. God, Buck, I need it. Feels like I'm going out of my mind. It's so-- I've -- I was waiting. [Yearning for Bucky in this room while his body ramped up and up to get ready for him. His mate.
His teeth felt too sharp. His clothes too constricting, itchier than they ever got during the day of the full-moon. He kissed Bucky, surging his whole form against him to eliminate the offense of space. They were going to be mates. Bucky was going to fill up the intolerable empty ache inside of him, help do something about the way he was burning up and it would be perfect.
He wanted to keep kissing Bucky; he needed to get them both out of their clothes and the two leaping urges made for a clumsier clash between their lips and his hands fumbling to strip down Bucky's uniform. It wore at the negative amount of patience Steve had, making him whine again in this throat in protest. Breaking was terrible but necessary. He glared but he wasn't angry, only frustrated.]
You're wearing too much. Take it off.
[Strange as it might have seemed, he stepped back. It bumped him into the side of the bed, but gave him the space to appraise Bucky as he stripped down. He'd seen it all before but that was different. Bucky wasn't about to be his mate all of those times. And although there wasn't anyone else in the world he'd even consider being with, the part of him that was a wolf wanted to see what it was getting with him.]
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The kiss was wet and rough, lips crashing and competing against each other and neither of them actually had the upper hand at any one given time. The taste of Steve on his lips, a touch of sweat on the blond's lips, and the after taste of dust from the morning routine was like fireworks of crippling lust that exploded in his guts, leaving him sweating and desperate as he kissed Steve increasingly with more teeth than lips, trying to invade the omega in front of him as if he could crawl under Steve's skin and just feel everything
He had never felt this way for anyone, never felt it digging deep to every fibre of his being. Was it because Steve had always been different or because Steve had been made by him? He couldn't spare the active brain energy to consider that question and after all this was said and done, he doubted that it would still be there to want an answer for. Everything he wanted and needed was right here under his hands, and the smell of the pair of them like this filled the room and his head.
He issued a whine of his own when Steve finally backed off, his fingers reaching out as if to keep contact. It took him a moment of blinking and squinting to understand the order before he was nodding and growling as he pawed at his own clothing. He pulled the dirt-stained white t-shirt over his head, throwing it aside to a corner that wouldn't inconvenience them. He had to bend and will his fingers back into working order in order to pull the strings of his gaiters and then boots, again tossing everything to a corner. This was all very difficult with his erection rubbing insistently against the material of his military fatigues, but they were the next to go once he stood up again.
He stared the distance between them at Steve, his thumb hooking under the button of his fatigues and flicking it right off so that it could bounce off of Steve's chest. Taunting. Daring. Willing. He tore the zipper until it ripped at the bottom, and his erection sprung free as he shimmied his hips almost daintily from the material. The only item that he left on where his dogtags, and they were warm against his chest, glinting in the light.
He growled low in his throat.] Your turn. Show me everything.
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Steve yanked his shirt off over his head all in one go and stood up straight again once it'd been tossed near the discard of Bucky's clothing with his chest rising and falling with the pant of his breath. Everything clearly meant his pants, his shorts and he wanted out of them but he hedged, knowing that he was already a mess between his legs from all of the slick.. It made a fierce blush creep over his face and down his neck. Steve ducked his head, staring at his hands and the flicker of his own dogtags as he fumbled over the buttons, undoing a few before he switched to kicking off his boots and then doing the rest. His fatigues and his shorts stuck to him, dragging stubbornly as he pulled them off. The shorts were completely soaked through with the worst just starting work through the stiffer fabric.
His scent also jumped from strong to overpowering as soon as that those last barriers were removed, which egged on that aching need.]
There's so much, Buck.
[Steve dropped his clothes aside and reached behind him, tentatively brushing his too-sensitive skin to gather up the excess of slick that sticky down the back of his thighs. It was clear, shiny and thick but more fluid than the viscous excitement wetting the head of his cock. He brought his slicked fingers back around, looking at them while he absently rubbed the spot on his chest that Bucky's button had bounced off.]
Christ.
[His legs felt weak, making him step back to the edge of the bed and sit down, perched carefully with his fingers moving back between his legs automatically. He felt so empty, he needed something and Bucky wanted to see everything so --So both his index and pointer fingers slid into the heat of his body without the hint of resistance. Steve groaned loudly, falling slack back against the bed in relief. Not as much as it'd be with Bucky fucking him but some and some was perfect for the moment.]
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The blush only had him rumbling, struggling to stay in his spot rather than prance and jig his way over to Steve, to bury his nose in that chest or neck or between those very obviously slick cheeks. He instead tossed his head so that bangs no longer covered his eye, but the moment that Steve's fatigues and shorts were done, his erection bobbed towards his belly at the new intensity of scent that practically ran him over, and his own scent fought to find a spot to display itself, mingling together with Steve's.
He growled a low sound as he advantaged as Steve backed off and sat, crowding in close and leaning down so that he could bury his nose into that slightly slick blond hair. He snorted, blowing some about between fierce inhales to draw in the scent that was entirely Steve. His guts seemed to clench and flutter in his abdomen, and he lifted his hands so that they could settle on the omega's big broad shoulders, rubbing his palms on that hot slick skin.]
You're touching yourself. [It was a statement, hitching with excitement. He wanted to shove Steve back and mount the blond hard and fast, to show the merit of his strength with action. He dragged his nails across Steve's shoulders, so close to shoving the blond backwards and grabbing those ankles to force his omega's legs apart and reveal Steve wholly to him.]
Lay back and show me how much you want me. Spread yourself out and I'll make you so mine you'll see no one else but me behind your eyelids.
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Steve shuddered, turning in towards the line of his alpha's shoulder as Bucky nosed into his hair -- each sucking inhale loud and greedy in his ear. The drag of his nails came with pain and cool relief against the way his skin his burning up. How they both were. All you'd need to do to light a match was touch it to the line of Bucky's spine -- he'd put five dollars down the certainty of it. And honestly, Bucky didn't have to work anymore if he just wanted him to show up every time Steve closed his eyes. He shut them at some point already and he saw him: bright, edged with the thin thread of self-control which was keeping him leashed back. They weren't moving like humans anymore. There was something too sharp and pushing in the way their skin moved over muscle. They didn't sound quite human anymore either.
Steve's cheeks may have warmed over a second time over at the right filth Bucky growled into his ear but he needed that as much as he needed all of him. He pulled his hand free, careless of the slick covering his fingers as he grabbed Bucky's face to turn it back to his own -- maybe, actually, a little gleeful in smearing the mess of it on Bucky's cheek. He wouldn't be able to see anyone else but everyone else would be able to scent it a mile away. Mine, promised just as viciously. He kissed him again, easing back onto the bed with his legs spreading to make room for Bucky between them.]
Sounds -- like a promise. You swear, Buck? [Steve broke away from the kiss to arch and squirm, trying to push up mattress more for room, gasping when his cock brushed up against Bucky in the process.] You're gonna stay the whole time?
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He let Steve lead the kiss this time, his hands reaching out to stroke up Steve's thighs, grabbing and massaging the thick muscles as he stepped up to position himself between the blond's parted knees. He moved no closer than that as he was too invested in the kiss that they shared, all lips and tongue and teeth inviting further attentions to one another.]
Nothing and no one is gonna take me away from you, punk. This is you an' me, so you bet your last buck I refuse to go any distance away from you. [It was a promise, deadly with its intent to remain close to Steve. Not even an active firing squad could rip him away, except perhaps to ruin them so that they were safe again. It was all the wolf part of his brain talking, completely engaged with the idea of protecting his mate no matter the cost.
His hands reached out, catching at the backs of Steve's knees so that he could tip the blond backwards harder on the mattress. He lifted and spread them further, baring Steve for his greedy eyes as he leaned down and nuzzled down one thigh and poked his nose into the crown of hair surrounding Steve's hard cock. He licked at the hot flesh as he moved down, kissing at the base of the omega's erection and then using his chin to nudge at Steve's balls. He smeared new slick there on his chin and rumbled his appreciation for the feel of it there.
He wasn't finished those and dipped his head further, sniffing and licking at the pungent slick between Steve's cheeks. He pushed harder on the blond's knees to force Steve's ass off of the mattress where he could begin to 'clean' his mate. The taste of it nearly drove him to his knees in its potency, and he was back to growling and whining as he sucked a rather rude hickey right on Steve's ass cheek. After that, he buried his mouth against the crack of the omega's wet ass, his tongue pushing and seeking the source of the slick so that he could lap at Steve's hole. His own arousal was to the point of being painful, his erection straining toward his belly, but he paid it no particular mind. Soon. They would both have what they wanted very soon, but right now the essence of Steve was filling him up, clouding any and all judgement.]
You're mine. You've always been mine.
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He did cry out at the first lap of Bucky's tongue over the sensitive ring,flashing pleasure impossibly bright up his nerves. Steve felt himself clench, trying to keep the dart of Bucky's tongue for more and he felt himself clutching the strength of Bucky's shoulders but only after he'd clawed lines into nape and back of his neck. His hips arched up even more, blantantly offering if not outright demanding.
Hearing his pack wouldn't leave soothed the strange anxiety that'd been wound up in all the heat. Days and days of this would be intolerable without him. He'd go crazy. More out of his mind than he already was, spreading himself as wide as he could and shoving himself right in Bucky's face like it was nothing. He'd be safe through all of this while Bucky was with him and he'd keep his alpha safe just the same while giving Bucky whatever he wanted. ]
Swear to God, then, Buck. I swear -- if you don't do it now, I'll figure out how to do it myself.
[He was positive Bucky knew him well enough to understand he meant every word of that.]
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He paused at the breathless, almost aggressive, words being thrown at him, lifting his head to peer down the length of the omega's flush body. He raised an eyebrow almost comically, grinning wolfishly despite the glistening slick on his lips and chin.]
You gonna stuff to fingers up there again or your whole hand this time? I might pay my military rations to see that...
[Of course, he was so aroused by this point that waiting wasn't exactly in his own range of patience at present. It was still entertaining to bug Steve even as he pushed himself up and sidled in close, his hands finally slipping away to smooth up Steve's body. He paused to tweak nipples to hardness and then lay over the blond, rubbing himself and his scent all over Steve, a low rumble of pleasure leaving him as his erection settled heavily nudging up against the blond's thigh.]
Fingers... or me?
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