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[endsinafight]

Sweat drips down the back of his neck as he makes his way out of his hut and into the heat of the Wakandan sun. It's later than he usually gets started on things these days, but today he just hadn't had the energy to make himself get out of bed early. He's still tired, even if he shouldn't be. His body doesn't require the kind of sleep that normal humans need, but the last couple of weeks...well. Since he'd woken up from cryofreeze, sleep's been practically non-existent. Between flat out insomnia and nightmares, he doesn't rest much.

But this isn't even that. He knows how he feels after a restless night, and this isn't it. No, his lack of desire to get out of bed or leave his hut or do anything these days has a lot more to do with a six foot blond who's been back in Wakanda since a few days after he'd woken up. He knows Steve's there, because he's picked up the language easily -- which apparently still a thing he can do thanks to HYDRA -- and he hears whispers about "The Nomad" almost every day. He knows exactly who they mean.

He just rarely sees Steve himself. It's not like he's come around. He's not staying with Bucky. He's either in a hotel or at the palace, and that's fine. Really. He gets it. He doesn't blame Steve.

Bucky's still trying to get used to functioning with one arm. Balance has been surprisingly difficult. He's fallen more than once, used to having to lean to the right to balance the excess weight of the arm that had been strapped to him for the last seventy some years. Shuri's offered to make him a new one and he's turned her down. He doesn't need it. Doesn't want it. He's done fighting, thank you very much.

He doesn't bother with shoes as he pads out into the grassy area near the goats, who are definitely acting a lot more jumpy these days. He'd assume it was him, but his presence actually seems to relax them, so he thinks maybe there's a predator on the prowl at night freaking them out. He walks to pick up his garden hoe, because that's another thing that he's doing -- likes it. Finds it soothing. Growing something and helping it thrive instead of ruining it like he has everything else for the majority of his life.

When he rounds the house, he jumps, startled at Steve's sudden appearance. "Jesus Christ,," he mutters, heart pounding hard.

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[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve swallowed. He closed his eyes. He nodded.

It felt monumental, like the moment before jumping out of a plane. He’d rescued Bucky like that, once upon a time, and he’d imagined before the jump that it would be like falling. It wasn’t like that at all—he had felt weightless and powerful, like he could do anything. Being the wolf was a little like that. He didn’t have much impulse control and he was near to unstoppable, physically. He was a tiny bit concerned what he’d do, after he changed—but he figured worst case scenario was some very aggressive cuddling. Body and soul, he loved Bucky.

He reached into the wildest part of himself and shifted. It hurt—change always did—as his bones shifted and cracked, breaking and reforming. His skin boiled and sprouted thick golden fur. He dropped to his hands and knees, and then they became paws. His teeth grew and sharpened. And in a matter of moments, the world was gray in his wolf eyes. He looked up at Bucky—he could smell him like the sweetest perfume, drenching the air between them, but the human part of him needed to see the look on his face too.

[endsinafight]

Bucky wasn't sure what to expect, really. Especially not with the knowledge that whatever happened to him hadn't been a choice, and that it was something bad. He had far too many years of those exact circumstances himself, so he braced himself, waiting.

Alarm shot through him when he heard bones cracking -- Jesus Christ -- but before he even had time to absorb that, Steve was growing thick, beautiful golden fur and a moment later he was on all fours and yet still tall enough to reach Bucky's waist with his height.

When it was over, he found himself staring, dazed at a goddamned wolf.

All the air left his lungs and he slowly sank down to his knees so they were more at eye level. "You were bitten by a werewolf," he murmured. His eyes were wide, but it wasn't fear so much as shock. Wolf or not, he was still Steve.

Bucky reached out his hand to him but didn't touch him, wasn't sure he had permission like this.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Bucky’s immediate reaction was to get closer to him, to reach for him. He didn’t run screaming—he didn’t even look or smell frightened. He was surprised, which made sense, but not at all scared. Some part of Steve almost thought he should be—he was about three times the weight of the biggest European wolf, the same weight he was as a human, and hugely tall. He could rip Bucky’s throat out without the slightest bit of effort.

But Bucky reached to him, got on his level—Steve pressed his muzzle into Bucky’s hand, huffing a little breath of the scent of his skin. It was amazing, to smell him in this form, and he couldn’t help himself. He pushed his way further into Bucky’s personal space, sticking his nose underneath his ear, smelling deeply.

[endsinafight]

Seventy years of mistreatment, abuse, and torture -- he didn't have a lot of room for fear left in him, really. Besides, he knew it was Steve. Had seen him transform right in front of him. He almost smiled when Steve nuzzled into his hand and exhaled when he pressed closer, like trying to give him a wolf-hug.

"Hey, Pal," he murmured, hesitantly stroking his fur, and then letting his head lean against wolf-Steve's. Behind him he could hear the goats moving farther away, bleating in panic, but for now he ignored them.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve made a soft huffing nose as he nosed up into Bucky’s hair and he let himself lick, just a couple times. The taste of Bucky made his chest tighten and his muscles tense. The possessive urge built in him and he wanted all sorts of things, he wanted to clamp down his teeth and take— the overwhelming violence of that urge combined with the stench of the goat’s fear, the way it made him hungry—and he was overwhelmed, heart pounding, somewhere between afraid and furious.

The terrifying thing about the full moon is these moments of uncontrollable wildness would overtake him and there was nothing he could do—but it wasn’t the moon right now, so he immediately transformed back. He was basically in Bucky’s lap, a few breaths of cracking bone and writhing and then he gasped with a human mouth and slumped hard against Bucky.

[endsinafight]

Bucky blinked a couple of times when wolf-Steve licked him, but he chalked it up to instincts, deciding not to read into that too much. He stroked his fur with a little more confidence until suddenly all his bones were making that horrible, gut-wrenching sound as they snapped and shifted and then Steve was dropping onto his lap like he was exhausted, breathing hard.

Instinctively he reached down, cupped his face in one hand, then stroked some hair out of his face. "Easy," he murmured. "Easy, Stevie." He gazed down at him with worried gray eyes, cradling him against his chest the best he could with only one arm. "Easy."

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve shivered at the way Bucky touched him, his instinctive comfort and soothing. Steve wanted to chase his hand with his hand, smell and lick and taste. He resisted the urge to push Bucky over and climb on top and just as much he resisted the urge to throw himself away. Instead, he slowly eased himself back, until he was less on top of Bucky and testing his fragile self control less.

“You’re kinda nuts to let me do that,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I coulda ripped your throat out. Part of me wanted to.”

[endsinafight]

Bucky arched an eyebrow at him, letting him pull away and hating the feeling of loss he was left with. He wasn't sure how to tell him that not only had it not occurred to him, if it had, he still wouldn't have pulled away. The last thing he feared was death, and sometimes, when the nights were very long and very dark, he craved it. Wished for it. Prayed for it. He was pretty sure God stopped listening to his prayers a long, long time ago.

"You didn't."

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

If Steve killed Bucky, ripped into that beloved flesh with his teeth and tasted his blood—he’d be dead himself as fast as he could make it happen. Simple as that.

He didn’t know Bucky was thinking that he maybe wanted death, but he was so aware of how close the possibility had been, always was. He wanted Bucky, he loved Bucky. But the wolf was somewhat mysterious to him, sex and violence all mixed up and close to the surface. He didn’t know the full extent of what he was capable of.

His first moon, he had killed someone who didn’t deserve it. An old man, whistling in the woods. He doesn’t remember what he looked like. He does remember the taste of him.

Steve shivered and shifted, wrapping his legs up in his arms and pulling them into his chest.

“So, that’s me, now. Out of a fairy tale or something.”

[endsinafight]

Bucky watched him shiver, mind going back decades and remembering a much smaller Steve shivering like that in the dead of winter. He hadn't hesitated back then to crawl into the bed with him, wrap his arms around him, press against him until he was warm enough that he could sleep. Til they both could. There was so little hesitation back then.

He longed to do the same now even if he wasn't tired, even if Steve wasn't tired. Wanted to hold him, or even let Steve wrap himself around him this time, skin to skin.

"How'd it happen?" Bucky's voice was quiet.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve looked up at Bucky, just for a moment, and his smile was wry.

“Deep dark woods, big bad wolf,” he said. “Maybe would’ve made a good story. We were in the Ukraine and the locals were gossiping about Soviet genetic experiments. Funny enough, we didn’t actually find anything made by science—just a pack of wolves. I never saw them human and they were ferocious. The only reason why they didn’t kill all three of us was I tackled their leader down a hill and fought him one on one—I think they took that as appropriate. Problem was, he won. He held me down, had my throat in his jaws, and I thought I was done for. I still don’t know why he shifted his teeth and took a chunk out of my thigh.”

His hand reached down to rub the leg, unconsciously. It stung and burned regularly, like the magic was close under his skin.

“They let Natasha and Sam take me away. I was feverish and convulsing for days and then, well, I was different. It took a couple weeks until I put the pieces together.”

[endsinafight]

Bucky drew in a slow, deep breath, itching to reach out and touch him, but the way Steve was curled around himself made him think it wasn't something he really wanted at the moment. And sure, he had no problem pushing Steve when he needed a push, but he wasn't going to push him when it was something he wanted and not something that Steve needed.

It wasn't difficult to put two and two together, though. "You were looking for me. When it happened." It wasn't exactly a question.

He scraped his teeth over his lower lip. "Not everyone survives it. A werewolf bite." He didn't know everything about werewolves, but he remembered a few things over the years, through HYDRA operatives who assumed he wasn't listening or didn't care, or maybe they hadn't cared. It was always hard to tell.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve smiled again. There wasn’t much humor in it and his eyes were sad. “Buck, every second of time between the bridge in DC and the apartment in Budapest I was looking for you. That’s not special.”

When Bucky gave him that little fact, he look up and his eyes sharpened on Bucky’s face, a wild intensity in them. “You know things? About this?”

Steve knew nothing and didn’t dare ask any of the people that he knew who could help him find out.

[endsinafight]

Somehow that didn't make him feel much better about things, but he had a long list of sins already so what was one more?

Bucky met Steve's eyes and held his gaze, giving a short nod. "A little. Not a lot." He hesitated a moment, held his breath. "Come inside? I'll make stew and...we can talk?" His voice was quiet, so, so quiet. Part of him was still afraid Steve was going to insist on getting away from him. Staying away from him. For his own good, like he cared about that.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve studied Bucky. Tension zipped through his muscles, both from the promise of information and Bucky inviting him closer, wanting to be around him. There was something like joy in his heart, glowing like an ember at the bottom of a campfire. Bucky didn’t reject him. Maybe he should, but he didn’t.

He didn’t try to push him away, not exactly. But he thought Bucky had to know.

“I’m dangerous, really truly. I don’t have good control. I could kill you.”

[endsinafight]

Bucky watched Steve study him like he was looking for something specific, searching for answers that Bucky wasn't sure he had or not. He pressed his lips together as he waited, then shrugged with his good shoulder at that, his only real acknowledgement of that warning.

"Stew, then?"

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve stared at him a long moment more. His eyes were sharp and bright, distinctly canine. Finally, he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I definitely would like some stew.”

He pulled himself to his feet and stretched, unselfconscious. It wasn’t even intended as a display. After cracking his back, he reached down to offer Bucky a hand up if he wanted one.

[endsinafight]

Bucky nodded, watching as he rose to his feet gracefully, stretching and looking all too breath-taking -- not an unfamiliar thing, really. When Steve extended his hand, he took it after only a moment of consideration, letting Steve pull him to his feet. Admittedly, getting up is more difficult these days than it used to be.

"Come on," he said quietly, squeezing his hand and then leading the way into his hut.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

When Bucky didn’t immediately release him, Steve let his greedy instinct to keep hold of his hand rule. He held Bucky’s hand all the way into the hut.

He couldn’t help snort a laugh about the outraged bleating he got when he passed the goats.

“They really don’t like me,” he said.

[endsinafight]

"Well, they did just see you shift into a wolf," Bucky said wryly, barest hint of amusement in his voice. "They're smarter than you'd think." He tugged him inside the hut and closed the door behind him, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "Make yourself comfortable."

Bucky made his way to the fridge as he started pulling out vegetables to slice. "Want something to drink?" It had been a long, long time since he'd hosted visitors, even if Steve wasn't exactly a visitor. He was Steve.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

“I haven’t eaten a single one of them,” Steve jokingly protested. “No matter how tasty they smell.”

When Bucky let him into his home, Steve greedily took a deep breath, soaked in in. His eyes looked around to memorize every inch of it. Sometimes he wanted to crawl inside Bucky’s skin so he could see every single thing he saw. He wanted to know everything.

“Hmm?” he said, too focused by staring. “Oh, I’m fine. You want help? I want to help.”

[endsinafight]

Bucky made a face at that. He might love the goats, but they definitely don't smell good to him, either. He glanced over his shoulder to see Steve looking around, taking it all in. Overall, it was a very simple dwelling and that suited Bucky just fine. It was more than he even deserved and he was grateful for it.

"Sure. Wanna help chop veggies?" He paused, considering. "You're still okay eating those, right? I can add more meat if you'd rather."

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve nudged Bucky over, not hesitating to get close to him, into his space. It was almost proprietary, the way he took over chopping the vegetables.

“I eat vegetables,” he confirmed. “But yeah, a lot of meat. More than people should eat, percentage wise.”

He glanced at Bucky. “What do you know?”

His voice was studied, a little too casual.

[endsinafight]

"Makes sense," he murmured, moving to get the meat from the fridge next -- chicken. He set it on the counter beside the stove and moved to get a pan to cook it in, then set a large pot on the back burner.

Bucky liked the way Steve crowded him, made his skin tingle with awareness of the close proximity.

"HYDRA's been fascinated by them. At one point there was talk of genetic modification but as far as I know they were never able to actually catch one." He was silent for a moment as he sliced the chicken into small pieces and tossed it in the pan, turning the stove on to start heating the bits.

"They had a couple people who'd been bitten, though." His voice was more hushed now. "Bite didn't take with either of them." And they'd died drawn-out, painful deaths. "Know you shouldn't be around shit like wolfsbane or mistletoe. Poisonous to werewolves."

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Steve made very rapid work of the vegetables—he had excellent hand-eye coordination, and then moved back into Bucky’s space. It was hard not to tug him close, rub himself all over him, make him smell like Steve. He wasn’t going to do any of the things his instincts wanted him to do, but he could stand too close, lean into him, feel his reflected warmth.

“So they weren’t created by HYDRA?” he asked. He kept his voice neutral, but he was relieved. He was a monster either way, but it was nicer to think he might be natural.

“And what about silver, do you know if I can touch it? I’ve been too scared to try.”