Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nonfrangible) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
spaces_between2016-10-11 07:45 pm
nonfrangible) wrote in spaces_between2016-10-11 07:45 pm
Just another woofs AU
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!
no subject
All those Nazis... God, he didn't even want to think about it. War was not for wolves and not only just because it wasn't a fair fight. For them, normal bullets were an annoyance but their ability to regenerate their tissues meant that they could keep going so much longer than any other human being. Steve would take on battalions of the enemy and win now, but they weren't going to war. War was for humans to wage on each other and now, they were wolves. Their wars with each other were probably small even if they were potentially deadly too. They didn't take over whole countries of land for conquest though.
He gave Steve a good and thorough sniffing, pleased with the smell that came from those hidden glands. He rested his cheek against Steve's broad warm shoulder, the top half of his head peeking over such massive muscle. Yes, it would take some getting used to. He rose on his toes to peer over Steve's shoulder at the pink marks, feeling intense satisfaction about their presence.
As if they told the world that Steve was his packmate.
He didn't resist as his wrist was seized, holding it out. There wasn't a sign of his own teeth, his healing having already dealt with the injury. Now if Steve bit him... he wondered if he would earn faded scars like that? He didn't know, and he wasn't yet ready to suggest it either. He had no idea what it would mean after all.]
It's so small and faded, no one is going to notice those. They suit you, and you can wear them like a badge of honor, Steve. You survived a werewolf bite!
[He bared his teeth playfully and then leaned down to nibble on the scars, adding loud 'om nom nom' noises while poking his friend in the kidney with a finger.]
no subject
[But Steve was laughing at the overblown noises and the ticklish gnaw of Bucky's teeth in his shoulder even as he jerks his elbow back into his packmate's side. He turned, catching up Bucky's hands and trying to wrestling him- no -- immediately wrestling him to the ground with the sort of effortless speed he's left on top of Bucky blinking in honest surprise. It shouldn't have been a surprise considering he'd enjoyed everything of his new body all night but he was so used to having to really outwit Bucky to get an upper hand whenever they wrestled.
It was insane that he could nearly overpower him.
That surprise was chased immediately with a grin.]
Actually -- this is pretty nice.
[Steve exacted his revenge by tickling at that one particular spot on Bucky's side which always got him squirming, keeping him pinned down with his weight until he deigned to roll off and shrug out of his shirt. It still sat as a disappointment in him that Bucky didn't have any marks from him but he was glad to have the soft scars left behind for multiple reasons. They were a badge of honor in a way, they said he was pack with Bucky and right now, they were a good reminder that the whole night before hadn't been some wild dream.]
no subject
This was going to take some time for them both to figure out, but he didn't mind one bit.
However, he did mind being tickled, and he squirmed away from the contact as he tried to dislodge Steve from him, but Steve was impressively strong now that he was pinned down. He was left laughing and squirming, thrashing his body until the pressure relented and he rolled up to follow Steve, grinning wolfishly before pausing at the removal of that shirt. They had planned on sleeping in a big wolf pile hadn't they? He sat up and pulled off his own shirt, shucking his trousers a moment later and then rising to hands and knees to bring himself close to Steve again, nudging at his packmate's neck with his nose.]
Hurry up. We don't have all day to nap, pal.
no subject
They weren't exactly human anymore anyway. Bucky never was in the first place.
He shifted, rolling into the change easier than he thought he would given that it was the third time. Steve shook out his fur huffing in the new heightened intensity of the air around them and split a grin over a Bucky before heading for the bedroom. He butted the door open from where it'd been left half-shut and eyed the bed, tail wagging in waves that smacked into the door frame.
The bed creaked ominously as Steve climbed on, making him stop on all four paws before he got to settle down.] You think this is going to hold both of us?
no subject
Steve was very new at it, but his friend managed it without a single hiccup. He was very proud and more than a little pleased. His best friend was definitely a natural.
He followed, kicking the door gently closed with a hind paw and paused before he climbed on the bed. This would be a test on if it could hold both of their weights. He had to briefly wonder what would happen if the bed not only collapsed but went straight through the floor. Their neighbours would faint dead away. Still, the bed was the most comfortable spot, which meant that it was worth the risk to him.
Slowly and carefully, he climbed up after Steve, listening to the ominous creaking of the bed frame. It held for the moment, but he wasn't so certain it was such a sure thing. They couldn't exactly afford a new one. For now, he lay his chin across Steve's back and hummed, closing his eyes.]
This is probably not the most dangerous thing either of us is going to or has done before. So, I think we should take the risk and think of an excuse why there are wolves in the upstairs apartment in case we go through the floor.
fin?
[Steve was definitely in agreement for bedding down somewhere soft and comfortable and the bed smells like them more than anywhere else though his formerly human scent sits a little strange in his nose.
Steve settles down on the bed, carefully lowering himself so he doesn't dislodge Bucky or encourage the frame to finally snap. They can't jump around like crazy and they probably should go ahead and saw off the legs if it holds through a nap.] Coupla wolves got loose from the zoo? They were just seeing things? Maybe that could work.
[Few people would really believe some great things like them were living right above their heads and their building's seen better days, though it was the sort that was built up fast and kept together with quick fixes.
Bucky was a solid weight along his back, warm and strong. All the fur between the both of them made the pile of old blankets he used unnecessary. As Steve settled down with his head on top of his paws he felt whatever was yearning in him quell. This felt right and he rolled in the sensation. Would have literally if that didn't guarantee them breaking the bed right then and there.
Though it did break anyway. But they at least got a good half hour of dozing before the frame cracked right down the middle like an oceanless shipwreck. It didn't send them through the floor, thank God. But they did have to drag off all the bedding and resettle on the nest of it -- after a round of chaotic play that earned some angry bangs of a broom from their neighbors after Steve started a thwacking his packmate with a pillow clenched in his jaws. In the end that truly tired them out.
Steve didn't think he ever slept better in his life.]