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[ 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. ]
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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[ 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?
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(He wishes there was a way to tell him to fry it up first.) ]
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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. ]
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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. ]
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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.
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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. ]
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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.]
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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. ]
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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?
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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. ]
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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. ]
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[ 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. ]
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[ 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?
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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. ]
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Are you fucking kidding me?!
[ Because, excuse me, what? Nevermind that Steve tried to kill him, that really isn't the thing that Tony is stuck on right now (wasn't the first time, probably wouldn't be the last time either, let's be real here. Tony brings that reaction out in people). He is stuck on the Steve being a werewolf thing.
What.]
I'm sorry, how long have you been hiding the whole howling at the full moon shit? Because, that is kind of impressive but I am also a little hurt you never told me. Wow.
[ Is Tony still pressed to Steve, leaning into the touch on his throat? Maybe. Whatever, not his fault okay. Touch starved.]
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[ It's really not impressive at all, and Steve's pretty sure that Tony's priorities are totally fucked up but - okay, it's Tony, he can't exactly be surprised by that. ]
How the hell do you tell anyone that kind of thing?
[ Maybe he'd told T'Challa - very awkwardly - but to be fair, he'd been pretty sure he was about to run around in a jungle full of panthers and/or Wakandans who probably would have killed a wolf in their territory. And, actually, turned out T'Challa had a similar problem, except more feline.
...yeah, he's not gonna tell Tony about that. ]
I mean, even for us, that's...that's kind of weird, Tony.
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[ No really, these are the important questions. He doesn't need to focus on the fact that his is now straddling a naked Steve's stomach, in nothing but some well worn jeans and bed head, trying to figure out the logistics of becoming a werewolf.]
Did the serum really fuck up? Like, how have you hidden it? Wait--- shit, Steve! Did you make me a murder puppy?
[ He looks down at Steve, slightly incredulous and confused.
SHit, does he have to make Full Moon Protocol a thing? Ugh.]
Weird, really? My self made artificially intelligence now has the ability to phase through walls and has a fucking space rock stuck in its head. Its not weird, just new.
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[ And, okay, maybe he feels guilty about that. Hell, for all he knows, they were American POWs who'd been experimented on, not willing volunteers. Now that he knows about Bucky, that seems a lot more plausible. But it's in the past, and there's not really anything he can do about it. ]
I don't really know if or how the serum's interacted with anything. I mean, it's not like I have a baseline for this sort of thing, you know? I just...am.
[ As for how he's evaded notice - well, a lot of stupid luck, mostly. That's the only way to explain it. ]
Werewolf, Tony, not murder puppy. And if you call me Fluffy again, I'm going to- [ Well, he's not sure what he's going to do, but it's going to be drastic.
Except not.] I don't know if I did or not. I mean, this has never happened to me before. Something happened, 'cause you're not dead, but I don't know what did. You're the science guy, you figure it out.no subject
[ Tony blinks again, continuing to just... sit on Steve with a perplexed look on his face, one hand coming up to rub along the scar that now marred his neck. That-- yeah, that shouldn't have healed. Tony should be dead in the woods and while he isn't complaining about this outcome it is a lot for him to deal with.
So is a naked Steve.
Naked Steve who was totally the wolf he was talking to last night about how much he was frustrated and pining over him. Wow, shit. It is a surprised that Steve hasn't punched him yet. Or tried to maul him again. Tony winces, peering down at Steve.]
So, I might have said some things....
[ He he is going to say more, honestly, but then he moves back and-- oh. Oh. Um. Well that is-- interesting. ]
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[ Oh, Tony, why did you have to move? It's already taking almost all of Steve's self-control to not do anything, and now-
Now it's even harder. So to speak.
Steve just sucks in a deep breath and closes his eyes. No. This is a traumatic experience for Tony, and he's definitely not going to do anything stupid that might make things even worse, no matter how much he might want to. ]
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[ Wait... he wasn't supposed to say that. Fuck. Shit. This is why he should have run like, the moment he got up.
And now he's saying shit he should have taken to his grave, the thought of him being a murder puppy lost to the back of his mind because Steve is fucking hard beneath him and oh shit oh shit oh shit, this is--
Tony shivers, looking a little caught as he freezes, ass pressed against Steve's hips and erection and he can't move, can't breathe without adding to the friction and there is a tiny voice telling Tony that, hey, maybe Steve isn't as against this as he thought. Or maybe it's some by product of the werewolf thing. Or a full moon thing. Or--
There is a quite whimper as Tony's fingers curl, pressing against Steve's shoulders, and:]
Shit.
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Better hurry up and choose, Stark.
[ And maybe it is a byproduct of the werewolf thing, but that doesn't mean that Steve doesn't want it, that he hasn't wanted it for awhile now. Maybe not like this, where his gaze has to skate over Tony's throat every time he looks at him because otherwise it's hard to breathe when he thinks about what he's done. Maybe not even on Tony's living room floor. ]
C'mon, we can play Little Red Riding Hood. I'll even give you a head start if you want.
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And then Steve speaks and, well, fuck that.
Tony's gaze narrows, fingers tangling in Steve's hair as he pulls him down and kisses him. His kisses are hungry, all teeth and tongue and taunting. Daring Steve to match him, to take this further.]
Hnn, you want me in a little red skirt and stockings, Rogers? How interesting.
[ The words are light against his lips before Tony is kissing him again, pulling Steve closer if he can.]
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[ There's a growl in his throat as he kisses Tony, hips working against him, fingers curling around his biceps hard enough to leave marks. A wave of animal need rolls over him, and god, he's so hard it goddamn hurts. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, barely pulling away from Tony's lips. ]
Tell me you have lube in here.
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[ You are going to find a decked out Tony now just to fucking prove he would look amazing in it. Fucker. But for right now, Tony is a little busy trying to steal Steve's breath and cant his hips up, seeking friction for his rapidly hardening cock because, fuck, Steve is fucking entrancing like this. He totally gets the deer in a predator's gaze thing right now. Wow. There is a whine trapped in his throat when Steve pulls away, and Tony nips at his lips.
That is just who Tony is.]
Nnnn, yeah. In... the drawer of the side table by your feet.
[ What. He has needed it before. ]
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