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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[ Steve, for his part, hasn't exactly been shying away from contact with Tony. He's spent more of his time in Tony's room than in his own, started just bringing a book down to Tony's workshop and sitting in there and reading while he works. Hasn't followed Tony to the office yet, but usually, when Tony's in the tower, Steve finds him eventually, aimlessly makes his way to wherever he is and just sort of...stays. Doesn't even feel the need to talk to him or interrupt what he's doing; it's enough to just be there.

He's always felt the full moon in his bones, like the ebb and flow of the tide. And, yeah, there are certain animal instincts that start to come out around the full moon - like the fact that the dinner waiting for them consists of a few racks of ribs, because Steve can't get enough meat. The sheer need, he ignores, usually through a combination of sheer stubbornness and being Steve. Which isn't to say that he hasn't given into it a time or two - if he hadn't, he probably still would've been a virgin till he fucked Tony - but it's a matter of self-control for him. He's the one in charge here.

(He doesn't remember anything about the first time he changed - why would he? It had been in the middle of war, he hadn't known what was going to happen shortly. There's nothing for him to make connections to seventy-odd years later, nothing he can warn Tony about.)

The ribs are getting cold, and when Steve finishes a chapter in his book, he slips a bookmark in, asks FRIDAY where Tony is. He expects him to be in his workshop - doesn't really think anything about him being in the shower. He makes his way into the bathroom, slides the glass door open to poke his head in- ]

Hey, are you co-

[ Oh. ]

Gonna assume the answer to that is 'not yet'. [ He gives Tony a slow grin; he's already stripping out of his shirt and jeans. ] Don't stop. I wanna watch you.

[ There was a part of Tony that was totally blaming the constant closeness between the two of them for his predicament right now. Somehow, this was Steve's fault. And, while his brain couldn't exactly figure out how it was the blonds fault, he knew that it was.

As for now, he was a little bit too wrapped up in letting the hot water relax the muscles of his back and the slow constant build of warm, electric pleasure that his hand on his cock was providing him. He wasn't moving too fast, his grip not too tight because, if he was going to fucking jerk off he was going to make it worth his time. Honestly, Tony hadn't done this in a really long time, there was always a willing body around and-- well he could ask Steve, but he fucking needed it now, and he wasn't sure how to vocalize that without just pinning him down and humping him like some kind of--]

Fuck. Fucking wolves.

[ Tony hissed, his grip tightening as he, for a brief moment, figured out what the fuck was going on.

Of course, then he almost falls over because Steve is sticking his head into the shower and mother fucking fuck. Tony spins, presses himself back against the shower wall, eyes wide as he looks at Steve who-- is taking his clothes off.

Fuck.

Groaning, Tony tips his head back a little and complies with the request. He spreads his legs a little farther apart, pushes his hips away from the wall, and strokes himself, bottom lip caught between his teeth.]

This is... fuck. All your fault, you jerk. [ Not that he sounds all that upset by it, not when there is that added thrill of eyes on him, of Steve's eyes on him. No, now Tony is starting to get that lovely live wire beneath his skin sensation, his eyes trying to catch Steve's.]

Is it? [ Steve raises an eyebrow casually, down to his underwear now. He's trying to play it cool, but he's hard already - not that it takes much, especially not where Tony's concerned. When Tony spreads his legs apart, Steve thinks for a moment about toys, about how much he would want to watch Tony doing this with something else up his ass - maybe spread out on the bed where Steve can watch him.

Not that he minds being in the shower, either. He tugs his underwear down and steps out of it and into the shower, presses himself against Tony almost instantly. He licks his way up his neck and into his mouth, pushing him against the wall as he kisses him. The warm spray is welcome against his bare skin, and the feeling of slick skin up against him is intoxicating. His hands find their way to Tony's hips, pulling him tight against him, their cocks rubbing together. ]

You blame everything on me. [ He smiles as he says it, his forehead resting against Tony's. ] And it's only my fault some of the time.

Hnn, it is. Fuck... [ It is so much better with Steve there and watching him, removing clothing and revealing skin that, by now, Tony was becoming so wonderfully familiar with. Skin and muscles that Tony knew far more intimately than he ever thought he might, and honestly, there were times when he wasn't quite sure if the last month hadn't been some kind of fucked up, near death hallucination. But, whatever. Right now all that mattered was Steve, and Steve's eyes on him as he stroked himself and his muscles trembled with electric pleasure.

There is a sigh, barely there, when Steve finally gets in close enough to touch him, part of the razor sharp desire lessening if only a little. Like this is what it was after; Steve close and skin on skin and--] Fuck, Steve, I am not okay with teasing right now.

[ His voice shakes, a barely there growl underlying the words as Steve grabs his hips and pulls him close, his arms automatically sliding around Steve's waist. It's lightening on his skin and perfect but so not enough right now and-- shit shit shit. The razor edge might be lessening, but that didn't mean Tony was really any more rational. Rather than snark with Steve, explain to him exactly how this is his fault, Tony just makes a needy noise and rocks his hips up against Steve. It's slow at first, the perfect slide of skin on skin, but it isn't enough, so Tony moves his hips a little faster, presses his forehead to Steve's neck with a huff of breath, and shakes.]

Steve-- Steve, I can't-- fuck. I don't know what's going on but fuck.

[ He wishes he had some sort of explanation for Tony - but he's not sure he'd be capable of listening to it right now, anyway. And besides, that hunger that he so carefully ignores and pushes to the back of his mind is beginning to awaken, breaking down his barriers with every noise Tony makes.

So instead he just gives in, fumbles for the lube he knows is in the shower, right next to the shampoo and conditioner, squeezes a generous dollop into his hand and spreads it over himself. God, he's already rock hard - not that it ever takes long at the worst of times, Steve has an unfortunate tendency to get worked up very easily - and he buries his face in the crook between shoulder and neck, trying to calm the anxious skitter of his own arousal down. ]

[ There is something in the back of his mind, memories of Steven mentioning something from before, but he can't think beyond the heat of Steve's body and the burning need in his gut. If he thought jerking off in the shower was going to make shit better, he was really really wrong. So wrong. Sure, the frantic edge was... lessened, but Tony still needed to the point where his bones ached.

Tony cants his hips faster against Steve, panting against his neck and making an embarrassing noise when Steve pulls back enough to coat his cock in lube. Tony doesn't stop moving, hips jerking and seeking friction against the lines of Steve's hips, his head tipping back against the shower wall as he tries to reach a peak that he can't even begin to fathom. And that makes it even more annoying, stressful, whatever. There is another low noise, a growl of sorts, as Tony moves his hands up, tangles them in the wet hair at the base of Steve's neck and pulls him, hard, into a biting kiss.]

Steve, please. Fuck.... all your fucking fault. All of it. I need you-- [ Tony shakes, bites down hard at Steve's bottom lip with a strangled noise as a flash of want goes through him.] Fuck me, Steve....

[ Steve doesn't say anything, just pulls one of Tony's legs over his hip and-

Ohfuck, he's distracted by that kiss, all biting need and desperation, moans into Tony's mouth as he presses close to him again. He gives as good as he gets, his teeth clashing against Tony's, his tongue pushing into his mouth like he's fucking him.

And then he reaches down and guides his cock into him in one slow, smooth movement. He knows Tony wants it fast and hard right away - hell, he wants it fast and hard right away - but for just a moment, he lets his rational logic prevail, takes his time burying himself to the hilt. Once he's there, he guides Tony to wrap his other leg around him, uses his arms to brace both of them against the wall. ]

[ When Steve pulls him closer, pulls more of the heat and want from Tony's bones, the genius shivers with expectation.

Of course, then he is fully distracted by that kiss, and fuck fuck fuck, he should not want to come apart at the seams just because of the way Steve kisses him. Like he's devouring him, pressing himself into every crack that Tony has appearing in his need right now and making himself at home there, making Tony feel complete only when Steve is there, filling him.

So when Steve pushes in, slow and steady and so fucking good, Tony breaks the kiss to all but slam his head back against the shower wall with a low moan of Steve's name. It feels so good, too much and not enough and so so slow. But Tony doesn't rush Steve as much as he wants to, doesn't tightening his legs and roll his hips despite every damned nerve in his body telling him to. He just shakes as he wraps a second leg around Steve and pants into the warm air of the shower.]

Yes, fuck... so good Steve. Feel so good, needed this.... c'mon...

[ Someone else might not be able to support Tony's weight, but it's nothing to Steve; he could quite happily do this for the next hour. Not that either of them are going to last that long, of course. He can already feel the need tightening around his bones, coiling in the depth of his gut, urged on by something he can't quite name.

He pulls out slowly with a long moan, almost whimpering as his cock is exposed to the air, then thrusts back in, just as slow, but harder this time. Keeps doing it, the pace deliberately slow to taunt both of them. It's so fucking hard to do when he can practically feel the wolf clawing to break free, when he wants to growl and just fuck Tony into the wall. He wants to take more, to take everything. ]

[ There isn't room in Tony's brain to think about anything else aside from Steve right now. He is barely aware of the position he is in, let alone of how impossible it would be with anyone other than Steve (and maybe he will think about it later, about how since the blond barrelled back into his life those months ago, there hasn't been anyone else). Tony is too caught up in trying to get air in his lungs and to not rock down hard on Steve, demanding everything now.

It's weird in a way, how easily he hands the control over to Steve, lets him decide how this will play out, despite wanting Steve to just fuck him, hard and fast and claiming. Tony gets part of his wish when Steve pulls out and then is filling him again, slow but harder and--]

Steve, yes. Okay, please, just--

[ It doesn't take long for Tony to start to roll his hips in counterpoint to the thrusts; slow and deep. But Tony can still feel something vibrating in his bones, making him want more. Want Steve to just-- ]

Just what?

[ His grin is sharp and wicked and almost Tony-like. He knows what Tony wants - he wants the same thing - but he wants to hear him ask for it. Hear him beg. It's the only thing that makes him hold back, that last sliver of coherent thought.

He holds him up with one arm, curling the fingers of his other hand around Tony's cock - not moving yet, holding it still to torment him. There's a moment of stillness, where Steve just stops as he waits for a response, the only sounds their combined breathing, the soft patter of water from the shower. Steve leans in, follows the path of a single droplet of water up from Tony's chest with his mouth, slowly dragging his tongue up his skin, along his neck, the line of his chin. ]

Tell me what you want, Tony.

[ It's growled against his lips, the tone rumbling deep in his chest and echoing in the shower. ]

[ Tony doesn't answer, not right away. He can feel something dark rattling his ribcage, making him hiss a breath out between clenched teeth and he tips his head back and strains against the hold on his waist. Tony knows that Steve wants to hear him ask, wants to hear Tony beg and, fuck, Tony wants to. Wants to give Steve fucking everything that he can and then some, but there is still iron in his spine and the words are stuck in his throat.

Until Steve stops, holds Tony there on the edge of giving him more, makes the genius and that dark thing in his bones keen with want. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Steve's lips are searing as they move up his chest, leaving scorch marks in their wake and Tony can feel the pride he has turning to ask beneath the touch. Can feel whatever it is in his bones giving up to Steve little by little, and by the time Steve is mouth to mouth with him Tony can't breathe.]

You, fuck Steve. Please, fuck. I need you to fuck me, make me fucking feel it, shit... Steve--- [ There's a note of desperation to his voice, something he would deny after. ]

Yessssss- [ he hisses into Tony's mouth, squeezing his cock. Something in him - something that isn't quite Steve - exults at the way Tony sounds, at how utterly his he is, body and soul. (But he knows instinctively that he belongs to Tony just as much, even if he doesn't consciously acknowledge it.)

That's all Steve needs to push him into giving Tony what he wants, what they both want, and he gives over to sheer instinct, lets the thing in him take control as he thrusts fast and hard and fucks him mercilessly, pushing him back into the tiled wall with all the force of a super-soldier over and over and over. His hand moves on him with a little more restraint - it's probably better if he doesn't accidentally rip Tony's dick off, that would really ruin the moment - but it's still far from gentle. ]

Steve! [ It's half plea and half prayer as Steve finally gives in and fucks him the way Tony needs. This is hard and fast and, if Tony could get a thought out that wasn't Steve's name or a strangled moan, he would know that it was so much more than what he could usually endure. He was only human and, the strength in Steve's thrusts, the raw power and want that was coiled in every movement would not have been enjoyable, but now? It's everything Tony needed. He felt complete, like something snapped into place and this was all he needed, to be Steve's.

Between Steve fucking into him, the tight grip on his cock, and the hard wall behind him, Tony has no air. Nothing left in his lungs to scream the way he fucking wants to, because this pleasure is ripping him apart at the seams and pulling him back together in a way that makes the world tilt and fuck, Tony barely notices his nails, sharper than they should be, digging into Steve's skin, leaving marks and welts and small bubbles of blood that are washed away in the shower. He will have bruises on his back, but that doesn't matter because Tony can feel his orgasm racing towards him and --

It's right there, Tony can almost feel it, but something is missing and he is fucking near crying as he tries to get air in his lungs, tell Steve he need more, needs--]

[ Steve vaguely registers the sharp crack of the tiles in the wall breaking, maybe thinks somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn't be doing this, that he'll hurt Tony - but Tony said he wanted to feel it, and that's exactly what he's doing.

There are bright bursts of painpleasure on his back where Tony's nails dig into him, like scarlet blossoms unfurling in his mind, and they egg him on, make the wires tangled around his bones pull tight until he's soclose, he just needs to feel Tony come, needs to feel him tighten around him-

So he kisses him again, sucks his lower lip into his mouth and bites till he tastes blood in his mouth. Doesn't stop kissing him, doesn't stop biting him (and somehow the two are one and the same). ]

[ There are shocks of painpleasure lancing his back, searing his muscles as Steve makes it clear that no one will ever own Tony Stark the way he does right now.The way he has for the last few months. And it's that thought stuck in his head, coupled with the kiss that is more teeth and blood than anything else, has Tony seeing white.

Whatever noise he might have made is lost to the kiss, sinks into the blood between them as his whole body tightens, muscles taught and trembling as the world fades out except for Steve Steve Steve Steve.]

[ He sinks into Tony one last time as he tightens around him, burying himself completely, and fuck, his vision goes white with the intensity of his orgasm, his whole body shuddering convulsively, and it's only the tightness of his grip that keeps him from dropping Tony.

His knees nearly buckle, and he slowly sinks to the floor of the shower, bringing Tony with him - broken fragments of tile clattering to the floor as he peels Tony's back away from the wall, and Steve would be surprised but he can't quite manage any thoughts that coherent right now. All he can do is hold Tony close as the warm water patters down on both of them. ]

[ By the time the world realigns itself, Tony is on the floor of the shower with Steve wrapped around him like a vice and the fuzzy noise of water in his ears. There is something ringing in his ears, barely there, and Tony isn't sure if it's real or the noise of his whole damned body rebooting but--

There is a noise caught in his throat as he leans into Steve, shakes as the bliss of his orgasm washes away leaving him feeling tired but-- complete.

Tony hums, barely a noise, and presses his nose into Steve's neck, more than pleased to not move despite the faint echoes of pain that he is beginning to feel. ]

[ He cards his fingers through the wet strands of Tony's hair, rests his chin on his head. Steve frowns a little at the cuts on his back from the sharp edges of broken tile, almost feels guilty, but-

It's what they'd both wanted, right? Even if he hadn't meant to go quite that far. He's always been able to control his strength during sex before, and it's a little worrying. What if he goes too far and damages Tony in- well, a very unpleasant way.

(Okay, he isn't always able to control his strength during sex; there are times when he's ripped sheets, maybe broken furniture from gripping it too hard. But breaking the tile like that is a first.) ]

Are you going to make me carry you around again? Because I'm just gonna buy you a butt donut from Amazon.

[ The noise that escapes from Tony's mouth is supposed to be laughter, but it doesn't quite make it. It's lost against Steve's skin as Tony continues to lay there. There is the rational part of his brain that is already kicking online, making it known that perhaps, there was something that needed to be looked into here. That there was far too much contentment for sex that was on the uncomfortable side of rough, but Tony just felt blissful.

Like he could happily stay here, draped on Steve under the spray of the shower for some time and not wish for movement. ]

Mmmm, maybe just make you carry me outta here. Fair?

All right. But I'm gonna have to dry you off first, too. Otherwise you'll soak the bed.

[ They'll both soak the bed. But Tony is a whiny baby who's going to make Steve do all the work. ]

We're- [ He pauses for a moment, a little awkwardly. ] Gonna have to head upstate tomorrow, I guess. [ Steve's nervous. Sure, Tony's been handling things all right so far, but now it's time to confront the reality of what he's done. It's all been sort of abstract so far, but tomorrow night he's really going to turn into a wolf, and Steve isn't quite sure how Tony's going to cope with that. ]

[ At this point, Tony couldn't care less about the state of the bed, so long as he got there. He answers with a groan, pressing his face into Steve's neck and shivers.]

Fine. But only because I know that I won't want to move later.

[ The note of nervousness makes him crack an eye open however, curiosity in his gaze as Steve stumbles over his words. Tony huffs, presses a soft kiss to the underside of Steve's jaw.]

Mmm, can head to the mansion today if you want. Shouldn't take too long to get there, then we can be weird and fuzzy all we want. [ He sounds a lot more okay with it than he is. To be honest, as much as he is okay with this.... Tony has no idea what to do. Doesn't know how this is going to work, how this might affect him and Steve and--]

Even got a few deer moved onto the property. Lots actually, mostly sanctuary stuff but...

Oh my god, am I going to be eating orphaned deer that were hand-raised by humans or something? Or three-legged deer that can't survive in the wild?

[ Steve looks vaguely horrified by that, even though...realistically he knows it's not really any different than hunting down wild deer that grew up in the forest. He's well aware that his wolf instincts tell him to chow down on Bambi once a month, okay? But at least normal wild deer know how to behave and run and let him hunt. What if these just stand here and let him kill them? Not only is that half the fun, but he'll feel incredibly bad about it. ]

[ There is a beat of silence after that, until---]

Are you fucking with me right now?

[ And before Tony can quite help himself, he is shaking with laughter, curling in on himself, head against Steve as he tries not to cry at the idea of Steve feeling guilty as he chased down Bambi.

iT takes a moment, but he finally looks up at Steve, something soft as he presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.]

No, you idiot. They aren't tame, I just took the surplus from a nearby sanctuary. They would have to kill them anyway, or spend millions of dollars taking them somewhere new, so this worked. They are not lame, or three legged.

Well, I don't know how these things work. I just didn't want to hunt deer that couldn't defend themselves.

[ Steve looks a little sulky for about five seconds - but in the end, it doesn't really matter. He could always just let Tony make a robot or something - which he thinks still wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable. But he can't expect Tony to understand the joy of hunting, not yet. ]

Are you. Um. Are you okay with everything?

[ Not that there's much that he can do if Tony isn't okay, but at least he can try to offer some sort of emotional reassurance. Maybe. ]

for amelioraate

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