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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[ All Steve does is take the food from the delivery girl and thank her politely, and then he heads back up with the bags of food. Maybe sneaks a strip or two of bacon in the elevator, because the food smells so goddamn good in the enclosed space and he's hungry.

But when he carries it all into the bedroom, Tony's gone, and the sound of running water at least makes it evident where he is, but-

He hadn't shown any desire to get out of bed before, and now he's suddenly in the shower. Steve frowns, sets the food down, heads into the bathroom and pokes his head in the shower with absolutely no regard for Tony's state of undress. ]

Tony? You okay?

[ Look, there has been a lot of shit that has been thrown at him in the last twelve hours and Tony has gone from wondering where the fuck he stood with Steve, to waking up with the guy after fucking amazing sex and now-- now he is trying to hold himself together while his brain runs circles around him.

He is a werewolf now, and that-- that weirdly enough is the thing he can deal with the easiest at this point. Because that he gets, knows that he can figure out the parameters of easily enough with everything and it's going to suck he knows that. Steve? Steve he has no fucking clue about. Sure they kind of talked about it, but Tony doesn't know how much of that is real and now much of that is Steve still out of it from being a wolf, doesn't know--

There is a strangled noise as Tony presses his forehead against the tile, eyes closing.

Of course, that is when Steve wanders in.

Tony yelps and nearly kills himself turning around.]

Fine! Shit, ow... wow. Fine. Just wanted to be clean. Food here?

Uh.

[ Steve just steps into the shower, doesn't care about the fact that he still has pants on. He's pretty sure that Tony is absolutely not fine right now, and that it has something to do with him - probably has everything to do with him. So instead of answering Tony, Steve wraps his arms around him, tugs him close and nuzzles his face into the side of his neck. ]

You want me to scrub your back?

[ Honestly? Tony just wants to curl up in a ball and freak out a bit about the state of his life and how he is going to turn into a wolf once or twice a month, and how Steve Rogers apparently likes him enough to sleep with him.

Or might have been under some weird wolf hormones and felt the need to sleep with him. And shit, that is the problem here isn't it? Tony doesn't know how much of it is real and how much of it is some weird leftover from the transformation and what kind of life does he live when werewolves are more believable than someone caring for him?

When Steve's arms go around him, there is a moment when Tony stiffens, not really knowing what the hell the blond is doing until--]

Uh... sure? I mean... food?

[ But it's hard when Steve is warmer than the water and there and, shit, real or not Tony wants this.]

[ He feels Tony stiffen, wonders if he ought to pull back, if it's too much for him to handle right now. Maybe he's just making things worse by being here, maybe Tony only wants space.

But he untangles one arm long enough to grab body wash, manages to step back from him and squeeze some into his hand. ]

We can microwave it if we have to.

[ He starts kneading at Tony's shoulders, trying to work some of the tension out of the muscles, digging his thumbs into the knots there. ]

[ It only takes a few moments for Tony to relax again, sinking back against Steve. There is a quiet sighwhimper as Steve digs into his shoulders, fingers pressing into knots that have been there for as long as Tony can remember and holy shit that feels good. Tony sways a little on his feet, head resting against the shower wall again as a groan slips free and a shudder runs through him.]

Fuck, you might have missed your calling as a masseuse.

It's the whole super-strength thing. Kinda helps with massages.

[ He thinks about just straddling Tony in bed while he's face-down, about rubbing oil into his back until he's just a puddle of contentment. Smiles at the thought, because it doesn't seem like the sort of relaxation Tony ever allows himself. ]

I'll give you a full one sometime later.

[ Because, Christ, Tony's muscles feel like rocks under his fingers. He needs the attention. For now, Steve just works at his shoulders, trying to ease those knots out first. ]

Uh huh... sure.

[ Tony sounds a little fuzzy, body unwinding in increments as Steve presses into the muscles. This-- this wasn't what he expected at all, but fuck he enjoyed it. There is another noise of contentment as the muscles around his spine begin to relax. Not completely but enough.]

You're gonna have to stop or be picking me up off the floor soon, Rogers....

[ His words are thick and heavy, head tipping to the side a little as he tries to look back at Steve.]

All right, all right.

[ And while he wouldn't mind picking Tony up off the floor, there are better places to do this than in the shower. Some of the same relaxation is seeping into his own muscles, and he just wants to curl around Tony in bed and shove bacon into his face.

Steve steps back, suddenly realizes that he's wearing soaking wet track pants that cling to his skin and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. Which isn't something that bothers him too much, considering that they've just spent the entire day cuddled up together naked. ]

So, about that food.

[ And while there is still the lingering edge of panic, something clawing at his mind to freak out and run and hide and no no no-- it seems to be quieter now. Easier to ignore with the warmth of Steve around him, like the blond, despite being the reason Tony was freaking out, was the only one able to keep him from doing it as well. It would be infuriating if Tony wasn't focused completely on Steve right now.

There is a shaky smirk on his face as he turns around, back pressing against the shower wall, as he looks at Steve (in his pants, and wow, okay, he likes that) and maybe takes a moment to look him up and down.]

Mmm, I guess I'm a little hungry.

For food?

[ Because he catches that look, and there's a hint of affectionate laughter in his tone when he speaks. Steve shucks the pants off and leaves them in the shower, steps out and grabs a towel instead. ]

And if the answer to that is no, then you at least need to wait for me to eat, 'cause I'm starving.

[ The look on Tony's face lets it be known that, no, not really for food, but then he thinks about it and--] You know, as much as I would like to say no, I am actually at the point where I am noticing that I am hungry and that-- isn't normal.

[ Meaning Tony can totally go longer without food but... whatever.

He watches as Steve gets out before following, stepping over the pants and moving a little slower than normal to wrap a towel around his waist. He doesn't bother drying his hair, or most of himself for that matter, just shuffles past Steve back to the bedroom.]

C'mon, Fluffy. Food time.

Good. Because if you said no, I was going to eat all the bacon.

[ Along with everything else.

Steve settles down on the bed, arranging styrofoam containers around him, and god, the smells wafting up from them are heavenly. If he were a wolf, he'd be drooling right now. As it is, he looks a little impatient for Tony to get settled in, waiting for him to get started because his mother drilled manners into him, and apparently those manners hold even when he's sitting on a bed in the nude. ]

[ That makes Tony laugh a little, the edges slightly rough, but it's still an honest laugh. He doesn't know why he can't seem to figure his own thoughts out right now, but maybe-- maybe it will be better after food.

Dropping to the bed, Tony watches with amusement as Steve all but begins to salivate over the food. Though, he doesn't blame him; the food does smell delicious. ]

Oh you can start, stop looking at me like that.

[ He wants to say it is a kicked puppy look, but-- well it is. So Tony just grabs a container, sticks his tongue out at Steve, and pops it open.]

[ Steve grabs a fork and begins digging into some scrambled eggs like he hasn't eaten in about a year, because apparently the whole wolf thing makes him hungry.

(Yes, even after he ate ALL THE MEAT last night.)

Or it could be the amazing sex he had earlier, or maybe both. ]

So am I doomed to a life of stupid dog jokes now?

[ HE KNOWS WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY, TONY. ]

Look, I didn't say anything.

[ But there is something that is terribly close to an honest smile on his face, something like laughter, as he looks up over his container to Steve. Yeah, maybe he was a little fucked, and maybe this whole thing was a disaster waiting to happen, but right now?

Right now Tony thinks that the strange feeling settling in his stomach might be that thing they call happiness.

Either that, or that first bite of egg was poisoned. ]

I know you didn't.

[ He scoots closer to Tony, close enough that their shoulders bump together. Yeah, he likes that better. Something in him wants to be able to touch him all the time; it's not even sexual, just...a hunger for contact. ]

Better not start calling me Fluffy in public, though.

[ He drags his container over so he can reach it, then slings one arm around Tony, using it to steal bacon from him instead. ]

[ Tony just grins as he bites into a slice of bacon, too wide and all teeth, even as he leans into Steve at his shoulder. He isn't gonna say anything. Nope.

He is also not going to say anything about the fact that the simple closeness, the contact with Steve, calms him even further. Chases away the trembling energy that had him shaking earlier, and leaves him in a calm that, later, he might look back on and think is a bit strange.

Until then, he squawks over the stolen bacon and drives his shoulder into Steve.] Hey! That's... ugh. Fine, stop stealing my bacon and I won't call you Fluffy in front of anyone else. I guess.

[ Steve just laughs at that, leans in and steals a quick kiss instead. Which turns into a longer kiss, because Tony tastes like bacon, and maybe that's weird, but whatever. He hums contentedly against Tony's lips for a moment before he pulls away and goes back to eating. ]

You'd have a hell of a time explaining that nickname.

[ Instead, they'll probably end up having to explain why they're suddenly incredibly affectionate (in their own weird way, but it's still jarring for people who were pointedly ignoring each other a matter of weeks ago). The nickname might be easier, actually. ]

[ Oh.

Oh.

There is a moment where Tony freezes, the kiss catching him a little off guard though he doesn't know why. It's gone in a moment before Tony is tugging at Steve's bottom lip before pulling away and sticking a tongue out at Steve.]

Don't distract me to steal my bacon, you dog!

[ Yeah, okay, he is laughing. Well done Steve. You have broken down so many of Tony's layers and now he's just a bit of a mess as he tries to figure this out. You know, while being curled into you and eating bacon.]

'm not a dog, I'm a wolf.

[ Said smugly through a mouthful of bacon. The difference is very important to him, okay?

But something about Tony's laughter just makes him happy in a way that almost never happens, curling through him in a wave of warmth and contentment. It's the sort of feeling that would make him want to wag his tail, if he had a tail right now. Since he doesn't, he just kisses the tip of Tony's tongue and then-

Okay, then he sucks it into his mouth and kisses him again. At least he's not stealing the bacon this time, though. ]

Uh huh. Sure. Don't see much of a difference really.

[ It's clear he is just saying that to irritate Steve, laughter curling his lips as he taunts Steve.

Of course, then the jerk goes and ruins it with another kiss and-- shit. He should not be so easily affected by kissing for fuck's sake, it's stupid. But the moment Steve's lips are on his Tony can all but feel himself scattering apart, falling into some strange space where he just is with Steve. He murmurs against Steve's lips, eyes half closed and words slow and languid.]

You're a fucking cheat, Steve, distracting me with things better than bacon.

Mm. [As he hums into his mouth, his hands play over Tony's chest, fingers exploring smooth skin and muscle, wander down along his stomach and the hollows of his hips. ]

I think we oughta move the food off the bed. Unless you want to artfully arrange bacon over your naked body, which...is kinda weird, but I could probably get into that.

Don't put it on your dick, though. That seems pretty hazardous.

[ There is a moment where Tony can't think, is caught up in the trail of heat that Steve's fingers leave as the move along his skin. It doesn't take much at all for Tony to forget that there is food involved at all.

At least until Steve mentions it.

Then Tony is laughing, a little breathless and strained, looking at Steve with far more softness in his eyes than he should be capable of.] Uh, I don't mind you eating me, but yeah, should probably move the food.

[ He can barely hear the small voice from before, the one that is worried and criticizing, racing in circles to tell him how this was a mistake. Now all he can think is Steve Steve Steve and press into the touch.]

Promise?

[ He arches an eyebrow at Tony, flashing him a crooked grin, and then he's bending down and sucking his cock into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks around it.

What was that about moving the food? He's totally forgotten now. ]

for amelioraate

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