gotup | for amelioraate

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v: murder puppies

for amelioraate

[ HYDRA, as it turned out, had been working on other biological projects, which Steve had discovered one night late in the war when he infiltrated a small outpost and found a number of wolves. At first, he'd thought they had just been exceptionally resilient animal specimens - he'd had to set the house on fire and trap them inside to escape after he'd run out of ammunition.

When the full moon came, he discovered that they hadn't just been wolves, they had been werewolves. He turned into a beast, ran through the forest, and when dawn came, he found himself miles from camp, naked on a bed of pine needles.

(That had been a little awkward.)

A few months later, he'd gone under the ice, and nothing mattered anymore.

Fast-forward a good few decades, and Steve's out of the ice and managing his furry little problem the best he can. Which is to say, he disappears once a month and hope nobody notices. That hasn't been a problem till now. He's ostensibly under house arrest in Stark Tower, and, okay, he knows Tony won't care if he leaves, won't tell the government that he's suddenly disappeared. But that doesn't mean he's not paranoid about it.

There's really nothing he can do, though. Sure, he could probably spend the full moon curled up in his room, but he knows Tony has cameras in there to monitor him (doesn't blame him for it), and that's obviously a problem. He'll just have to suck it up and sneak out.

He's pretty sure Tony's preoccupied with something - a meeting, genius Tony things, whatever - when he casually strolls out of the tower before sunset in a hoodie, baseball cap tucked under his arm. Once he's safely out of view, he puts the baseball cap on, pulls up the hood - he can't wear sunglasses right now, that would just look weird. It's not far to the park, but he can feel the tug of the moon in his bones, and it makes him walk a little faster.

Steve wishes he would've had a chance to scope out the park ahead of time; right now, he just has to strip down and hope to god nobody steals his clothes as he stashes them deep in a copse of trees. And then- then the change hits, twisting his bones, reforming his body. It feels like the serum did every time, hurts like hell, but soon enough he's on four legs.

The wolf in him misses the jungles of Wakanda; they'd been hot, but wild, full of animals to hunt. The city isn't the same, not when the park isn't big enough to really run through, not when the biggest animals in the bushes are squirrels and rabbits. It feels distinctly unsatisfying; he wants to hunt, to feel the exhilaration as he brings down his prey, the hot blood on his tongue. As he thinks about it, there's a rustle in the underbrush behind him, and without thinking, he tenses his muscles and leaps. ]

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[ Of course he's sassing you, Tony. You just don't realize it because you don't know he's Steve. He snaps at the shirt - could tear it to pieces if he really wanted to be an asshole, but he's not going to do that - and tosses his head so it falls on the floor.

...yes, perfect, a towel draped over his head is totally useful. Thank you for that, Tony. Blue eyes glint in the shadows cast by the towel, and there's an annoyed huffing noise. ]

[ Fucking sassy murder puppy. Stop it.

Tony raises an eyebrow at the disgruntled wolf under the towel, taking his time towelling himself off since, you know, some fluff ball decided to eat his throat and then soak him in his own bathtub. Really now, him first okay. You already shook out all the excess water.

Once Tony is dry (which doesn't take long), he drapes the towel around his shoulders and kneels on the floor infront of the murder puppy and begins to dry him.]

You look like a fucking dust bunny. Jesus, you are fluffy. Maybe I should call you that. Fluffy the Murder Puppy. It's perfect.

[ Steve gives him a flat look. You are not even calling him Fluffy the Murder Puppy, and he does not look like a dust bunny. He's not a puppy, he's a wolf. There's a difference between the two, okay?

Granted, he's acting more like a puppy right now, but that's just because he's indoors and his human side has taken over. You want to see how not puppy-like he is, take him somewhere wild and watch him bring down a goddamn deer and eat it raw like a real wolf.

(Actually, he really wants to do that right now. The wolf in him doesn't like being indoors, doesn't like the forced inactivity. It wants to run and hunt and howl.)

Maybe next month, he thinks, he can talk Tony into going back to the training facility. There's plenty of land there to do whatever the hell he wants. Better than some stupid park in the middle of the city. ]

[ Tony takes that unimpressed look (don't ask him how he knows, but he does, fuck this is an expressive wolf) and takes it as a win. He grins, all teeth at the wolf, as he finishes towelling him off.]

There you go Fluffy. All done.

[ There is a clear smirk to his tone and , for fucks sake he needs to see someone if he is talking to a wolf and this is his life and... what.

Tony groans and presses his forehead against the wolf's flank.]

I clearly need help. Shit. All this pining over super soldiers is fucking me up.

[ Whoa, wait, pining over super-soldiers? What? Steve's surprised enough that he turns his head to give Tony a definitely confused look. There is no way he means that the way Steve thinks he means it. Absolutely definitely no way. He lets out a quiet whine.

(He'd think that maybe he's pining over Bucky, but come on, that's a little ridiculous. Plus Bucky's frozen in Wakanda, so even if he is, it's not like it would make a difference.)

He licks Tony's face again, more tenderly this time. ]

Yeah, I know, pathetic. But wait till you meet him, Fluffy. He's fucking-- ugh, you will want to tear his throat out and kiss him all at once. Asshole's been driving me out of my mind for fucking years...

[ Tony sounds resigned in his words, half smile on his face. With a heavy sigh, Tony looks at Fluffy and shrugs, a what can you do, kind of motion before standing up and heading towards the bedroom.]

C'mon murder puppy, time for pants and then maybe food. Or at least coffee. Then it is time to track down the missing supersoldier. Don't suppose you can sniff him out, huh?

[ Tossing a look over his shoulder, Tony vanishes into the massive closet, only to reemerge wearing a pair of well worn, low slung jeans. He doesn't bother with a shirt.]

Maybe he finally ran back to his better half in Wakanada..

[ Not that Tony really thinks that, but... He shakes his head and headed towards the kitchenette, turning the coffee machine on right away.]

[ Steve's never really thought of himself as the kind of guy who would drive anybody crazy, let alone Tony, who's...well, he's Tony. He could have anyone he wanted without exerting any actual effort. He doesn't know why Tony would pick him.

He probably won't, once he finds out the truth. Once he finds out what Steve's really done to him.

(And, okay, he looks really unfairly attractive in just those jeans, even with a wolf's vision. Steve wants to trace his tongue along those hipbones, and that's not even the wolf talking.)

While Tony turns the coffee machine on, Steve sits in front of the fridge. He doesn't really like most commercially available raw meat (it's too old), but, hell, he'll take what he can get right now, because he feels like he can still taste Tony's blood in his mouth, and it kind of makes him want to vomit when he thinks about it too much. ]

[ Fumbling about the kitchen, it takes Tony a moment to even notice that Fluffy is sitting at the fridge like he wants food. Tony has pulled out a mug and yelled at FRIDAY about making sure they order more coffee and, did Steve come back by chance? No, okay and--

Tony blinks at Fluffy.]

Uh... Food. I guess.

[ Tony's gaze narrows a little as he walks towards Fluffy and the fridge. ]

Are you a fucking domesticated wolf? How do you know food is in there, because I don't think you could smell it. Pretty sure. Maybe. Fuck, what do you even eat?

[ The fridge doors swing open wide, and Tony hums as he looks at the contents.]

[ Steve goes up on his hind paws to poke his head inside, sniffing at the contents, and-

Yep. His nose zeroes in on a nice, raw steak. He rises up even higher, and he's almost as tall as he is as a human right now, putting his paws on the shelf with the steak. There's a quiet, polite yip, and while he could just grab the steak and pull it down, that would be rude. He'll wait for Tony to get it out and put it on something so he can eat it like a civilized wolf.

You know, the kind of civilized wolf that would be ripping raw flesh from an animal carcass if he had the opportunity.

Please deliver steak, Tony. And also any other raw meat you may have in your refrigerator. ]

[ There might be something of a grin on his face as he watches the wolf stand and peer into the fridge. Though he doesn't stop to think before grabbing the steak with a raised brow and a shrug before tossing it on the counter and grabbing a small container of yogurt for himself.

When the coffee machine pings at him, he tosses his cup underneath it, then turns to the steak.]

I suppose you just want this without it being cooked. Well then..

[ He pulls out the meat and then puts it on a plate before setting it on the floor. It is a large steak, but Tony has no idea how much the murder puppy has to eat. He opens his yogurt and takes a spoonful before--]

FRIDAY, how much do I have to feed Fluffy here?

More than one steak, Boss. Also, might not be the best idea to keep a wolf as a pet in New York. You should take him to a conservatory.

Mmm, probably. Thanks FRIDAY. [ He peers at Fluffy. ] More then?

[ Judging how long it takes the steak to disappear down Steve's throat (about thirty seconds), yes, he would like more. Steve also fails to appreciate that the steak is expensive grass-fed Kobe beef, because what else would Tony Stark have? (Steve's just used to whatever you buy at Costco. Look, you eat like a super-soldier, you learn to buy in bulk real fast.)

He sits down patiently, waiting for Tony to deliver more food. And thanks for the advice, FRIDAY, you're a real pal. On the bright side, Tony can't actually do anything like that till tomorrow morning, and it obviously won't be an issue then. ]

...wow. That was... impressive? Terrifying? I am not sure what I was expecting honestly.

[ He shuffles back to the fridge, spoon stuck in his mouth, and pulls out the rest of the meat he has laying around. There is some beef, and ground turkey apparently, and one other steak as well as a package of the fancy thick cut bacon. Tony looks at it and holds it out to Fluffy.]

Yay or nay to bacon?

[ He's already making decent inroads on the beef when Tony asks about the bacon. There's a bit of a 'well, duh' look on his face when he glances up and yips.

(He wishes there was a way to tell him to fry it up first.) ]

[ Rolling his eyes, Tony opens the back and throws a strip at Fluffy.] Fucking sassy shit. Why are you here eating my food? You tried to murder me and now I am feeding you.

Fuck I must be desperate for human contact. FRIDAY remind me to call Rhodes tomorrow morning, I need to get out more. Al this pining bullshit has be going more insane than normal. I am talking to Fluffy like he understands.

Wolves are intelligent creatures, Boss. Chances are he has an idea.

[ Tony glares at the ceiling before snatching he coffee and dropping all the meat onto the plate for Fluffy. Traitor of an AI. ]

[ Um, obviously you're feeding him because he's adorable and those big blue eyes remind you of the jerk you're pining over, duh.

Steve catches the thrown strip with ease, chowing down happily. Yeah, it would be better cooked, but he'll live. And now he's got a meat buffet, and everything is basically amazing by a wolf's standards.

(Well, okay, the fact that it's refrigerated meat isn't great, but the variety is pretty awesome.)

He just sort of spends awhile eating through all the meat in Tony's fridge blissfully, wagging his tail. ]

[ yeah, that's totally it. You and your stupid blue eyes, fucking wolves man. Rip your throat out then look cute as fuck and eat your fridge clean.

Tony sips his coffee, quiet moan at the taste. God he loves coffee he really does.

While Fluffy chows down, Tony shuffles into the living room, drops himself into the couch and grabs his tablet. It is the hour of the night where creating shit that might be a terrible plan is par for the course. Maybe he should get Fluffy a collar.

Maybe he should get Steve a collar since the fucker ran away. Wait, not. That-- is a mental image his poor pining heart cannot take right now. He groans.]

I'm gonna die, Fluffy. Die, you hear me? And it's all Steve fucking Rogers' fault. Why is that fucking asshole so-- so--- ugh. [ He puts his coffee down for a moment and pulls up the specs for a electromagnetic shield for said asshole. It's supposed to be a surprise.] After I finish this, I should probably try that sleep thing. Or get Steve a collar so I can keep track of the jerk. Ugh.

[ Once Steve's done with the food, he grabs the plate in his teeth, puts it up on the counter next to the sink. He can't actually load it in the dishwasher, but at least he's not going to leave it on the floor.

Then he pads to the living room, jumping up on the couch and curling around Tony like a giant fluffy backrest, resting his muzzle on his thigh. He's not sure why he's apparently killing Tony now, but Tony's just melodramatic about everything. He's used to it. What he's not used to is Tony openly talking about his feelings for him, but that's filed away to worry about when he's human. The wolf doesn't care about that. ]

[ AS soon as Fluffy is wrapped around him, soft fur and warmth pressed to his bare skin, Tony finds himself relaxing more than he usually would. Yeah, maybe he is a little touch starved, a little isolated since trying to fix what he broke, and maybe he has been sleeping like shit for the last little while but-- whatever.

It doesn't take long for Tony to sink down into the couch, against Fluffy a little, electric blue holograms before him and coffee forgotten. And if Tony's blinks are getting longer as he all but snuggles into the wolf, well... the wolf isn't telling anyone.

And if Tony ends up passed out on one fluffy wolf, well then. Apparently wolves make for great pillows.]

[ Steve passes out, too, nestled against Tony. There's so much wild energy he still needs to run off, but there's also the fact that Tony is actually sleeping for once, that the couch is really comfortable and his stomach is full of a whole lot of meat.

He wakes up just before dawn as the first twinges of pain start. He sucks in a breath, wonders if he ought to try to sneak out, and then-

Then the first bone snaps and it's too goddamn late, all he can do is whimper as his body reforms, as the bones break and heal, the muscles realign themselves. The thick coat of fur recedes, and all that's left is Steve, completely naked and still curled around Tony on the couch. ]

[ The thing that wakes Tony up isn't the movement or the too warm touch of skin on skin, it's the fucking whimper that reaches past his sleeping mind to force him awake. Of course, then he is confused as fuck because--]

Steve?!

[ He has one naked super soldier curled around him like Fluffy was and mother fucking fuck, did he actually fall asleep on the couch? And where the hell was Fluffy?

Tony flails a little, not sure if he wants to get away from Steve or just to freak out for the sake of it, but he just ends up tangling himself with Steve even more and gets himself nowhere. Fucking fuck is going on here.]

What the fuck are you doing?

[ Ohhhhh boy, this is awkward on so many different levels. Steve flails at the same time as Tony, which makes things twice as tangled, and-

Well, actually, he wouldn't mind staying curled around Tony, but maybe in a less wolf-like position. Except then his brain reminds him of all the things Tony said last night, and he just flails more and tries to get away but he just ends up pulling both of them off the couch and onto the floor.

And Tony is, of course, on top.

...Steve hates his life. ]

[ There is a noise of distress from Tony as he goes from couch to floor in one fell tangle. The air is pushed from him when Steve's elbow ends up in his ribcage and ow.

Wheezing a little, Tony tries to sit himself up, but merely ends up sprawled on Steve.

On naked Steve.

Motherfucking fuck.]

Fuck, naked surprised cuddling is not okay Steve. Consent is sexy.

[ He was trying for his usual sass but it falls short thanks to the fact that his face is in Steve's neck and how the fuck did he end up here. Steve is fucking naked and he should love that but he is so damned confused that he can't even enjoy it. ]

Yeah, well, you were okay with it last night.

[ Okay, so Steve has to admit that Tony is attractive. And maybe there are certain reactions that his body has when an attractive man ends up sprawled on top of him that are really inappropriate to have right now.

Steve takes a deep breath, presses his thumbs into his eyes. No, he tells himself firmly, we are not doing this right now.

Problem is, there are certain...moods that go along with the change. It's always worst right before, when he always feels like he's going to claw his own skin off if he doesn't get some sort of release. But apparently it's still lingering now; he can feel the wolf lingering at the edge of his consciousness, the feral need tangled around his bones.

Fuck. ]

I was-- what?

[ Tony finally manages to battle gravity and win, pushing himself up with his hand on Steve's shoulder, fingertips digging into the muscle, and confusion writ on his features. That-- doesn't make sense to him. There was no way Tony woke up and told Steve he was okay with naked cuddles without figure out why Steve would ask that.

The thing is, Tony would fucking love naked cuddles with Steve. Should be enjoying this if it weren't for the fact that he knows it is just going to be taken away from him; a little piece of something he wants before its gone again. Steve could barely stand him on most days, so this-- yeah this was so fucking confusing.

At least for a few moments. Moments where Tony just hovers above Steve, eyes wide and confused, his brain trying to boot up and process what the fuck has happened, going over the last twelves hours and-- no. No no no, their lives are weird, but not that weird. Right?]

.... Steve. Are you-- [ His brain skips a little when Steve moves, something registering in his brain that maybe he wasn't the only one enjoying this, and he takes a shallow breath. ] You are not telling me that you're a fucking murder puppy, are you?

[ Steve reaches up and runs his fingers over the mess of scarring on Tony's throat. Christ. ]

You're gonna have to grow your beard out to hide that one.

[ It's a weak attempt at a joke, but the pain and guilt are evident in his eyes. He'd never meant to do this, never wanted to hurt anyone - let alone Tony, of all people. ]

I didn't- I know it's an awful excuse, Tony, but I didn't mean to, I just heard something in the bushes, and it was instinct, like chasing after a rabbit or something and- and I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry.

[ Can't even articulate how sorry he is, not when guilt sits heavy in his chest like a lump and all he can do is apologize and it's still not enough, will never be enough. But that's how things are between him and Tony, isn't it? He fucks things up and can't do anything to fix them; all he has to offer are totally useless words. ]

for amelioraate

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