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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!
no subject
He didn't whine loudly but he made a little sound, staring at the ground while he listened to Bucky's instructions. He remembered all those times he woke up with a cold nose against his cheek or Bucky already gone ahead with shifting back. He'd jostle him awake with his hands -- usually in the middle of getting dressed again. They went along with blending into the herd of men heading into the city for a long day's work in the predawn. Few raised interest past a glancing look. Everyone dozed.]
Feels like I just got done changing.
[The desire to simply stay and sleep through the day until the could play again all night again was plain in his eyes when he looked back up. He wanted to just keep running, to wait until what prey they forest could offer finally came back out under the false security of them no longer making a racket. He wanted to find somewhere earthen, hollowed that he could curl up with Bucky within. His human concerns were there. There was war there was needing to serve that helped push him to make Bucky give him that bite.
He wasn't sure how he'd look once he was human again. None of the creeks they drank from were placid or clear enough to show his reflect. All he had to go on was his size against Bucky's and how big his shadow was in the moonlight. Would he still be the same height as before? Would the shift fix his lungs when he was human, not just a wolf? It'd be his luck to get stuck with that.
Steve stared down at his paws and thought about hands as much as he hoped shifting back wouldn't hurt as much as the first change had. Nothing budged.
He snorted, ears flicking. The next attempt didn't go much better, causing Steve to peel off and pace down the width of the clearing before coming back and shutting his eyes. Fingers and toes His hands holding paintbrushes, pulling up the slip of his suspenders. He thought about sitting with book in his lap. He thought I wouldn't complain about being a little taller-
He got close to the point of feeling that skin-prickling potential for change more times that he'd like. It took swallowing his impatience at having Bucky watch him down and throw everything into that fleeting moment before it disappeared to make it take. It hurt. Briefly. A wash of agony, like ten-thousand bee stings there and then gone in a hot flash.
Goosebumps rippled over his bare skin, no longer protected from the wind with fur. Steve panted, trying to shake off the alarmed echo of his mind at the sudden change in form. His fingers tightened into the plush of grass and crushed under his knees. He opened one eye then the other, staring down at his hands.
His hands that'd always been too big for his body but now there was dirt under his nails and his palms spread a lot more than they'd ever-]
Bucky? Am I seeing this right?
no subject
It was a lot harder than it looked in small areas. He had years of practice, but he figured that the more that Steve was exposed to early, the faster his friend could learn to enjoy the bigger wolf form. There was no shame in being small or nimble, but this close to the city and with all the racket that they had made, it was better that they were not here come the full light.
He settled down next to their pack and clothes, not about to change until after Steve had managed it. It wouldn't do for him to make it look so easy when he knew that it was a difficult process and especially tiring. He personally expected Steve's human form to remain much the same, though all those ailments corrected. That would be something to explain, but they would have to come up with an excuse at some point. Maybe Steve finally would have the depth perception to punch some bully for real this time?
He waited, offering only little hums of encouragement as Steve tried and tried, and his ears pricked forward when he smelled a change in the air. It was followed by a transition of Steve from massive wolf to... Oh sweet Jesus.
Steve was big, probably bigger than he was, all muscle and peek physical maleness. There were layers of muscles, wide shoulders and not a single crooked bit of spine anywhere close. Tall too even though Steve was not standing, and after his brain stopped being stalled on what he was seeing, he felt his stomach drop out as he immediately thought, 'how are we going to explain this?' No one would believe that the runty Steve Rogers that lived in that apartment was this beast of a man, and yet, he also felt water stinging his eyes as well.
Why hadn't they done this earlier? So much pain and suffering Steve had fought against with physical conditions and the perceptions of society? All of that seemed to be gone now; Steve smelled healthy and earthy, like a forest after rain. It was unbelievable and yet... he felt wronged by having delayed in this even if before Steve had suggested it, he had never considered it as an option. Why would he? Instinct told him not to with this pack.
Rising, he padded over, sniffing at Steve's thighs and ass and then lifting his great head to rest it on that broad strong back. He rubbed his furry chin there.]
I'm sorry we waited so long... if I had known you would be fixed, you would survive... gosh, Stevie, I would have done this years ago. I'm so sorry.
no subject
These huge hands. The flow of smooth, sculpted skin that made up his forearms. The down of pale hair was his but nothing else. It didn't feel like him and he twitched at the brush of Bucky's breath across his bare skin as he sniffed him. Steve waited, forgetting to breathe though his heart was beating steadily as it did as a wolf, ready for some adverse reaction which never came.
The weight of Bucky's great head made him drop his head. His hair was still blonde, no longer than before and dipping into his clear, vibrant vision as he carefully started to breathe again. A second later he was shaking his head at Bucky's words, rearing back to sit on his ass and grab Bucky before that line of thought could even continue.
Sitting, just sitting, he was higher up than he'd ever been before. Christ-
He hitched short in surprise before he was able to shake it off and get back to what he meant to do. Get some fur well in hand so Bucky knew he was serious and hold him fast.]
What's all this about being sorry? You're the one that kept me alive all this time. And we had no idea this would happen. I'm not even...sure what happened. [A glance down provided him with the impressive swell of a smooth chest. His chest? Hesitant, he dared to ask:] Do I...even look like me?
no subject
He stepped back when Steve sat up, noting the height difference and how the blond's eyes had to drink in everything from a different logistical point. Sitting up, Steve was taller than his previous stature. He whined softly, giving his tail a small wag even as a fistful of fur was seized. He tipped his nose to sniff and nudge at the wide wrist connected to that hand, aware he should change back so they could hurry along.]
The wolf part of you made certain that you were in peak condition in all aspects of your life. [His eyes flicked back to almost rest on his head, anxious and sad that Steve had suffered when this could and always would be the result of a change. If he had done this when they were teenagers... the growth spurt could be explained away.] I... yes, your face, your hair all look the same, even though you've filled out in the cheeks and have a blush of health. You smell healthy too...
[And maybe that was the worst part: people would recognize Steve eventually. They may just have to leave Brooklyn in order to hide this from people, but first, they would have to give the blond time to sort out all the physical differences. That could be a dangerous time. Or maybe not. People were occupied with war, but that was not a wolf's concern. Maybe, just maybe, tongues wouldn't wag over this.]
The dames are going to be all over you, Rogers.
no subject
People would be able to recognize him. Though, he's not sure anyone would be able to believe it. Steve scratched into Bucky's fur out of familiar habit, trying to wrap his mind around everything. He didn't have to ask for elaboration on how he smelled before. He knew it was sickly at best. Maybe weak in a way Bucky looked past, knowing better. He laughed soft at that verbal nudge.]
Not sure my wolf part can do anything about having two left feet.
[Stepping out on the town was really one of the last things on his mind. Steve scooted back, unsteadily pushing himself up to his feet. Another glance down came with a rush of heat that spread up to the tips of his ears and all the way down to his chest, he could feel it. The change made everything -- and he meant everything -- bigger. Pushing past that Steve tottered over to the were their pack was stowed.]
How the hell am I getting back, Buck? I don't-- I'm not sure anything's going to fit.
no subject
He shifted back to his own human form, reaching up to smooth at his hair which was in disarray after all that running and rolling around, and he watched Steve come to realize the true extent of everything being... enhanced. He snorted a laugh, not even bothering to hide it as he walked over and snatched his pair of pants, slipping his legs into them.]
No, it seems even you realize how much bigger everything is. Not even the dames will care about your left feet with some of those enhancements. [He grinned wolfishly, flicking his eyes down pointedly. Let Steve have a load of this new set of teasing fodder that he had found.
He bent and dug through the pack of clothes, but they had only brought an extra pair of clothes for Steve, not him. He tossed his shirt to Steve as he rose, aware that they would need something more appropriate to attempt the homeward journey.]
Tie that around your waist since I doubt it will fit your shoulders. We head to the edge of town and grab a bigger pair of pants off the line from someone and then we can leave come coin on their doorstep to replace it once we hit home, alright? Unless you want me to pretend you're my really big, wolfish dog? That's the only other option.
no subject
[Thank god one of them could at least think on the problem. Grabbing a spare pair of slacks solved the worst of the problem because Bucky's shirt definitely wasn't going to make a cut towards modesty. Tying it around his waist from the front only framed his groin, flipping that around gave him a billowing apron that left his ass on display.] No, we'll get the pants but I'm just gonna- I'll shift back once we've got them.
[He needed the practice anyway, didn't he? Steve pushed the shirt back to Bucky and crouched down. When he shifted his time he already knew how to reach for that rippling part that already felt far more familiar than being right on the same eye-level as Bucky was. Back to being huge, four-legged and furred he shook the tingling sensations from the change out and walked his paws forward stretching while he waited for Bucky to gather up the rest of the stuff into the pack. Steve ranged towards other edge of the clearing and then came trotting back to keep pace at Bucky's side as they made their way out.]
Just call me 'Tiny'. [He grinned, glancing up.] Your really big, wolfish dog who comes up past your waist. The good thing is that I heard them saying they're shipping out men for basic practically the same week that they sign up at this point. Might not have find a whole new wardrobe in that case.
no subject
He gathered their items up while the blond decided to change back, overseeing the process out of the corner of his eye. It took a bit of effort on Steve's part, but he was pleased to see that there was no particular instruction from him necessary for the blond to figure it out. That was good; Steve was a natural and adept at picking up new skills easily, always had been.
He slung the pack over his shoulder, and reached out so that he could card his fingers through the fur between Steve's ears, scratching around those big cheeks a moment later.] How about I call you something fierce? Brutus? Timber like timber wolf? Ah well, let's get you some pants.
[He managed to hold in his frown at Steve's words of shipping out. That was for other men after all. They were wolves now, and there was no necessity to joining in that fight even if Steve was fit and probably couldn't be killed easily. It was too risky, and they were pack now. As far as he was concerned, it was mostly a non-issue and they could run in the woods for as long as they liked. Shipping out simply meant that there was less explaining for them to do.]
It will be better if we move to a new neighbourhood anyway. Less questions that way. [He headed towards to edge of town as if leaving to topic of war behind him in the woods. He walked right up to town as if he had every right to, keeping calm as he looked for lines of clothes that had been out on such a warm night to dry. He eyed a few trousers that he thought might fit and looked back at Steve.] Wait here.
[With that, he was off to slip into yards with a practiced ease of avoiding drawing attention to himself. He moved up in the shadow of buildings, using the early hour to his advantage as he picked through the available trousers to find something that was bigger than what he would wear. Taking down a pair, he headed back to Steve and lifted his arm.]
Here's hoping these fit, pal.
no subject
It didn't escape his attention that Bucky skipped focusing on his enlisting. That pulled in the air between them like a thread with an unwanted knot louder than either of their footsteps through the underbrush. They'd take him in a heartbeat from what he looked like now. He could be a good soldier, unquestionably. He would have been so even before, but the matter of his health would have made it so much harder.]
Might be able to get somewhere better, even. But it wouldn't make sense to move if we're just going to leave. [ He agreed with Bucky on the shifting if they ended up around a little longer but he had to say his piece. They could probably get away with him slipping by with one of Bucky's hats pulled low on his head and his eyes down but a anything longer than a few days would require a song and dance more trouble than it was worth. Their flat was a good deal but Steve could find the same sort of work that Bucky did now and Bucky was having far more days with as much than not since the War started in earnest.
Steve sat back on his haunches once Bucky asked him to wait. He kept to the treeline, keeping company with a dense evergreen and their pack with his ears pricked in alert on the chance someone might be around to spot Bucky. Two pairs of trousers, a shirt and a skirt drifted idly in the growing light of the oncoming dawn. The street was quiet, still dozing and the coast seemed clear enough that Steve flipped his attention back to shifting again. Learning how to come back to being human was going to be a sticking point, it wasn't nearly as smooth as his flow into a wolf. But he managed to get back to skin by the time Bucky returned with the second pair of hanging pants, sporting wild, ruffled hair and a grateful glance.]
They've gotta be big enough. [Steve replied, pushing himself up from the ground and wiping the dirt off his butt before he grabbed the pants. Compared to what he usually wore they seemed huge, something he'd immediately hand over to Bucky to try on instead. Yet he worked into each leg and found them snug, not loose. Hitting just right at his ankles to remind him that he wouldn't have to make all those deep hems by hand anymore. His old undershirt which had always billowed at best was similarly stretched tight over his chest and arms. That'd at least give Bucky his own shirt to wear for the ride. ]
What do you think? This'll do? [He tossed Bucky his wallet from his old pants. They had two spare dollars after what they needed for bus fare.]
no subject
However, in returning, he was intensely pleased to see Steve back in the flesh rather than the fur, aware that it was the bigger struggle. He smiled brightly, offering the clothing and supervising Steve's progress into the material. He was, of course, ready to head right back out to collect something else if this choice wasn't appropriate and he found his eyebrows hitching when Steve barely managed to get into those trousers. He walked around, tugged at the belt loop with a finger and noting how little space was left.]
Yeah punk, it will do but just. You aren't going to be striking any new fashion trends with these, but it will get you home. [He caught the wallet as he came back around, looking Steve over, a faint hunger in his gaze as his eyes crawled over his packmate.] When we get home, I'll have to grab your measurements and see if Lloyd can tailor you up something that will actually fit you. You're sure something else.
[And again, he was hit with the pangs of regret that they had waited so long, that Steve had suffered so much. He drew in a breath from his nose and turned to head back into town in order to catch the first bus of the morning.] What do you say to snoozing away part of the day in wolf form on your bed, huh?
using a big steve icon feels so weird oh my god
He looked up just to notice that Bucky's attention was lingering on him, focused in the sot of way he's pretty sure he's only seen thrown at other people before. It's enough to make him pause for half a second, something warm and eager flaring in response before he's shaking the whole mess of whatever that was off like rainwater.]
But that...sounds amazing, actually. [He could still go to the recruiting center before it closed and they had been out all night. If they couldn't hole up in the woods, their apartment was the next best thing. He just wanted to stay close to Bucky. Needed to keep by his side, probably because of the change and the new thrumming sense of being truly bound to Bucky unlike anything before. Steve pulled out the newspaper from his shoes and slipped them on, glad that they fit. With those on, they were good to go. He swore he could hear three people -- men, by their gait, their voices -- starting to get approach.] Let's leave the money and get out of here. The next bus is probably coming soon.
Hunka hunka mcjustice pants
For him, he saw the ability to work on the docks as one where Steve could learn his new body, learn everything about it on the physical side. No one would laugh or pick on the blond for being runty, though they would probably peer at those long lashes and wonder how they managed to make their way on a man. It didn't matter because he and Steve could work together, be pack in all things, and it would make up for all those times he knew Steve cursed being sick and unable to work while he slogged his way to the docks through the snow to pick up extra shifts.
Maybe if he wasn't so busy daydreaming about the endless possibilities, he would have hurried his way back to his friend. Instead, he was still digging in his pockets for some coin and dropping it on the doorstep and swaggered down to where Steve was standing looking big and meaty and so handsome. He was smiling again, the sadness to his expression gone now that Steve was fully dressed and not blushing heat throughout all of Brooklyn.]
Come on, big guy, we need to get you home before you accidentally knock over a bus station bench. [He grinned, heading off towards the bus station and nodding his head to the three gentlemen that were clearly an early work shift. Of course, there was the bus just pulling up to the stop, and he grinned back at Steve.]
Let's run to catch it! [He bounded off without waiting for a reply, waving an arm in the air to catch the driver's attention that they were still coming. His spirits had perhaps not be higher in a very long time.]
no subject
The driver had scolded at them both, indulgent approval in his eyes as he looked over the both of them.
He sat down heavily, shouldering off the bag and putting it on his lap. There were a dozen or so scents surrounding them -- splashes of aftershave, the soap from clothing, warm human skin and the remaining traces that had sunk into the fabric of the seats. Bucky's was bright in a way that he could tell meant he was happy as much as the thump of his heart did. Steve drew in a shaky breath, smiling to himself and then over at his best friend.
His pack.
Though he knew the ride back home wasn't a short trip, it felt quick. The bus was filled with the quiet lull of people trying to catch a quick nap on the way in or rustling the morning's paper -- which, Steve realized he could read just fine even someone was four seats up. He would be a shoe in at the docks, no question. With two wages like that coming in, they'd be more than okay for however long they needed it.
Steve leaned in, bumping his shoulder against Bucky's while leaving the outside of their thighs pressed close.]
Thanks, Buck.
[For trying. Believing in him. For risking all of it, though the odds were stacked pretty much the other way and there'd been literally his life tossed down in the gamble. They rumble back into the city with all it's sounds and pretty much every garbage heap from here to the Hudson stuck in his nose but he's still walking on the cloud of his change and their night's run. Getting back to the flat is a relief, doubled by being able to avoid running into anyone they really knew. Steve tossed down his bag on flat of their makeshift table and cut immediately for the chipped mirror they had hanging up.]
no subject
It wasn't like he had actually ever lost Steve before, but there had been a constant low-level threat of it. If there was a sickness going around, Steve would catch it. If there was a physical demand at school, Steve would push to the point of collapse. If it was cold in winter, Steve would suffer through, sometimes only burrowing into his fur being the only choice. That low level of threat was in the back of his mind, and while he never ever would crowd or steer Steve clear, he was aware of it and took his own personal precautions to know when it was time to intervene.
Now, it seemed like all the world had opened up for them. He practically bounded off the bus, smiling and waving at everyone before up the stairs and kicking the brick to reveal the key (Steve probably lost his somewhere) to open up the place. This too was familiar and safe, a space for them both, and he sniffed the air. It smelled like their den and that's exactly what it was now.
Unlike Steve who made for the mirror, Bucky was intent on getting out of his clothes and being free again. The night had been stressful as well as exhilarating, but he reminded himself to hang up his shirt even as he toed off his shoes and then marched over to Steve, seizing the blond's big shoulders and leaning in to sniff at his friend's neck. God Steve smelled good.]
Like what you see, pal? All filled out and grown up finally! Never thought I'd see the day!
no subject
Everything else felt like someone else entirely. He moved and all the muscles in his shoulders and chest, outlined by the tight stretch of his shirt moved too which meant they were his but that seemed impossible. He was just in the middle of pressing a hand to his own chest when Bucky clasped his shoulder, shoving his nose against his neck though it was warm and human instead of the wet snout of him as a wolf. Without thinking his head lolled to the side, giving up the expanse of his neck.]
It's something.
[Something he was going to need a second to get used to, no matter how good it felt just walking around. He'd been used the day-to-day but he never realized how uncomfortable it'd been until it disappeared.]
There's this though, you see?
[It's light, not much more than pale marks now but the ring of them was distinctly where he remembered Bucky's teeth sinking in to start the change. Steve shifted to twist and try to snag one of Bucky's clasping hands.] Did you wrist heal?
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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.]
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[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.]
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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.
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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?
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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.]