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Bucky’s panting and spent and sated as Steve pulls out and rolls off of him. He smirks tiredly as Steve kisses his cheek and pulls him closer for post-sex cuddling.
“I love how you’ve still got a bit of the wolf in you when you get back,” Bucky says, rolling onto his side to let Steve spoon him more efficiently. “Always so eager, as soon as you see me. One foot in the door and straight to bed.”
“Glad you like it,” Steve murmurs, nibbling Bucky’s neck, “because this is probably gonna keep happening every time. I’ve got a lot of energy to burn off, in a lot of different ways, and let’s just say I don’t get to take care of all of those ways while I’m out there alone. It’s just not the same without you.”
“I mean, I’ve never read anywhere about super-horniness being one of the side effects of lycanthropy, but I’ll certainly take it,” Bucky says with a laugh, wiggling deeper into Steve’s embrace. “Although… Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t what? You can ask,” Steve says, gently nudging. “Just because I keep this part of me fairly private doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of being a werewolf. And if you have questions, you deserve answers. Ask away.”
“You sure? Don’t judge me for this,” Bucky says, turning his head to meet Steve’s eyes.
“Oh, now I’m really curious. What’s your embarrassing question?” Steve twines his fingers between Bucky’s and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.
“What if…” Bucky begins, chewing on his lip, formulating his question. “What if, next time, I went out there with you? As much as I like this, wouldn’t it be even better, for both of us, if I could be there to help you out?”
Steve stills and pushes himself up on one elbow, looking down at Bucky, peering into him. “You know what you’re asking, right? You’re asking me to fuck you while I’m a wolf, right?”
“Yeah, why not? You’re still you,” Bucky says, arguing his case. “And come on, I gotta have that experience at least once. Don’t tell me if I were a werewolf who got really horny every full moon, you wouldn’t be curious what it’d be like. Come on, Steve, I know you.”
Steve makes a noncommittal noise and glances away.
“Alright, how’s this then,” Bucky offers. “We both go get cleaned up, giving you time to think it over. Then when we’re done with that, we can keep discussing this. Deal?”
“Alright, deal,” Steve agrees, releasing Bucky’s hand.
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Steve’s in their little in-suite kitchen, serving up breakfast when Bucky wanders out of the bedroom, dressed for the day but with his hair still up in a towel.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Steve says, whisking two plates of pancakes, bacon and eggs, and fresh fruit to the table. He pours the coffee as Bucky takes his place.
Bucky murmurs a thanks as he accepts the coffee from Steve. He sits down across from him, feet brushing under the table. “So…” Bucky begins, taking a long sip of his coffee. “Thoughts.”
“Thoughts,” Steve echoes. “Yeah, I have a few of those.”
“Very funny,” Bucky says, kicking him under the table and picking the leaves off of a strawberry. “Talk to me.”
“Ok, the way I see it, it’s going to be a little dangerous. I’m a werewolf. Yeah, it’s me under there, but I’m not the only one steering,” Steve explains, speaking slowly and punctuating his thoughts with bites of pancake. “When I’m human, the wolf part of me is dormant, sleeping, something like that. I know he’s in there, but he’s content to let me drive. But as the moon gets closer to full, he wakes up and starts making his thoughts, his desires known.”
Bucky nods, making little sounds of agreement, urging Steve to keep going.
“Then, on the full moon, as you know, I transform. The wolf becomes dominant. He wants control. I’m still in there, but if he wants to do something that I don’t want to do, it’s gonna be a fight to rein him in. And while I’m sure he’d love to have sex with you as much as I do, once we get started, it’s going to be hard to get him to stop.”
“I like it rough,” Bucky interjects with a shrug and a casual, lopsided grin. He leans back in his chair. “And I trust you.”
“I know, thank you,” Steve grins back. His face sobers again quickly. “There’s also the differences in anatomy. Everything’s going to be bigger, and are you at all familiar with, uh, knotting?”
“Vaguely?” Bucky answers, sitting up straighter. Steve is starting to blush. God, it’s cute. He literally just screwed him into the mattress not even an hour ago, and he’s going pink talking about sex. Bucky continues. “That’s that thing that happens to dogs, right? Where they can’t separate immediately?”
“Yeah, in very general terms, that’s what happens,” Steve replies. “When I turn into the wolf, I get all the wolf’s parts, knot and all. So if we agree to do this, and I tie you, I could be inside you for a long time.”
“How long?” Bucky asks, curious. He’s getting a little tingle of, if not arousal, at least interest deep in his gut. The idea of Steve fucking him wild and rough and staying hard in him after he’s come, after they’ve both come, is waking desires he didn’t know he had.
Steve glances up towards the ceiling, making a mental calculation. “I think the longest it’s taken to go down was about forty minutes, give or take.”
“Forty minutes?” Bucky’s eyebrows climb almost up to the towel around his hair.
“And there’s a lot of come,” Steve nods matter-of-factly.
Bucky’s eyebrows jump even higher. He picks another strawberry off of his plate and nibbles thoughtfully on it.
“Yeah, it’s a lot different than what you’re used to,” Steve says. “I’m happy enough with what we’ve got now if you don’t like the idea of having a werewolf up your ass for half an hour and having to deal with the mess afterwards.”
“Oh, no, I’m sold,” Bucky says, picking up his coffee and taking another long sip. “Make whatever arrangements you have to to bring me along, because I wanna do this.”
“I’ve got a cabin up in the backwoods of the Hudson Valley, very remote, no trespassing, so arrangements won’t be difficult. Just put in your vacation request and we’ll drive up together,” Steve explains with a shrug.
“Good, that’s settled,” Bucky says, leaning across the table to stab a strawberry off of Steve’s plate.
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“I had some more thoughts,” Bucky says, mid sparring-session with Steve. “About the werewolf thing. I know it’s still a couple weeks out, but I had an idea I’d like to run by you before it’s too late to do anything about it.”
“Yeah? What kind of idea?” Steve asks, dodging a flurry of quick jabs and dancing back on his heels, trying not to get backed up against the gym wall.
“You ever thought about roleplay?” Bucky asks, pushing Steve further back with a short kick, foot connecting solidly with his side.
“Oof, not really… something that’s crossed my mind,” Steve replies, catching his breath and blocking a punch.
“Well, how would you feel about doing a sort of Red Riding Hood roleplay with me when you change next?” Bucky continues undeterred, grinning and sidestepping as Steve feints and circles.
Steve takes advantage of Bucky’s momentary distraction to dart past him, just a little too fast for him to catch. “Oh yeah? How would that go?”
Bucky wheels around just in time to block a blow as Steve passes him. “How about this: I put on some nice lingerie—”
“Lingerie in the woods?” Steve asks with a laugh, falling back into a defensive posture as Bucky jabs at him again.
“Yeah. If I wanna feel pretty out in the woods, then why shouldn’t I?” Bucky shoots back. “Anyway. I put on some nice lingerie, red lacy stuff, traipse around out there, and you play the Big Bad Wolf come to ravish me.”
Bucky aims another kick at Steve, who anticipates it. Steve gets enough of a grip on his leg to throw him off balance, flipping him down onto his stomach. He’s on top of Bucky immediately, pulling an arm behind his back and pinning him to the mat.
“You want me to ravish you, huh?” Steve says, a dangerous note in his voice that makes Bucky’s spine tingle with excitement.
“That’s what I said,” Bucky challenges, lying on the floor and not trying to dislodge Steve. “You think you can do that?”
“If that’s what you want, I can give you that,” Steve says, dropping his voice into absolutely indecent territories. “You want to play the naïf, want me to show you how it’s done? Want me to take advantage of you? Dominate you? Fuck you hard and fill you up? Is that what you want?”
Steve ends this last pronouncement almost flat on Bucky’s back, covering him and purring into his ear. He’s straddling his hips, and Bucky can tell he’s getting hard. A bitten-off moan escapes Bucky’s lips.
“Moaning doesn’t technically count as an answer,” Steve says, releasing Bucky’s arm and shifting his weight off of him. “No pressure, though. Do you want that?”
“You’re not pressuring me, I want that,” Bucky answers, rolling onto his side to look up at Steve. “Yes, it’s a yes, very much yes.”
“Great,” Steve grins, climbing off of Bucky and offering him a hand up. “In the meantime, would you care to join me in a little, shall we call it, ‘practice’?”
“Absolutely,” Bucky grins back at him.
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Bucky walks into his and Steve’s suite, checking the calendar on his phone, counting down the days until the full moon; just under a week to go. He’s got a large, fancy-looking, shopping bag in his other hand dangling casually at his side. He glances surreptitiously over at Steve as he passes him on the couch, moving only his eyes.
Steve’s eyebrows rise as he sees the bag. He leans over to try to get a peek at the contents, shrouded in clouds of tissue paper.
Bucky shakes his head and clicks his tongue, moving the bag out of Steve’s reach.
Steve gives an exaggerated pout. “Can you blame me for being curious?”
“Not at all, but you have to wait a little bit longer, ok?” Bucky says, feigning innocence.
“You tease,” Steve says, shaking his head. “Fine, make me wait. I’ll just be even more eager to get you out of it then.”
“I sure hope so,” Bucky calls over his shoulder as he retreats to their bedroom.
Shutting the door behind him, Bucky sets the shopping bag down on the bed. He carefully unfolds the tissue paper, unwrapping his purchases and holding them up one by one to appreciate them. Oh, whatever I choose, Steve’s gonna love it, he thinks. He’s bought a variety of options, still not quite sure what he likes best.
All the items out of the bag are rich, saturated crimson. A short, velvet capelet that falls to his shoulder blades. A longer, satin cloak that reaches his thighs. Stockings in fishnet, sheer, and opaque, each with garters and belt. Lacy panties of varying degrees of coverage, from shy and modest, to a thong that hides absolutely nothing. Bucky holds up the thong and chews on his lip. As much as he’d love to see Steve’s expression when he catches sight of that, he isn’t entirely sure it would be practical. He’ll have to prep himself ahead of time and put a plug in—he didn’t think he could see a way of convincing a werewolf, even Steve, to stay still long enough to lube both of them up properly—and he’s not sure a plug with a thong would be the best combination. Eh, he’ll find a use for it, one way or another.
The last item out of the bag is the one Bucky has the highest hopes for. He lifts the bustier reverently out of its wrappings and holds it up to torso, eyeing himself in the mirror. He knows he can’t cinch it up too tightly, but it’s perfectly designed to show off his chest and deemphasize his waist without being too restrictive. Silk laces, subtle linework embroidery going in all the right directions, and sheer but supportive cups. He fondles his nipples gently through his shirt and imagines himself wearing the bustier, thong, and stockings, with Steve looking on hungrily. Steve loves playing with his tits and he loves to let him, so this would be perfect. He imagines Steve pressed up against his back, hands cupping his tits, calloused fingers rubbing his nipples until they’re peaked and oh, so sensitive. In Bucky’s reverie, Steve quickly shifts to become a leering wolf, hands morphing into paws. His claws, sharp and grasping, tear through the bustier and thong, shredding the stockings, stripping Bucky and leaving him bare and open.
Almost as soon as it began, Bucky snaps out of his daydream. Tearing. Whatever he chooses to wear is certainly going to be torn off of him in a frenzy of feral lust. Steve’s going to be a wolf for this. He smooths the bustier down again, frowning exaggeratedly as he sighs at his reflection. He’s a little too hesitant about letting it get destroyed. Well, he’ll just have to find some other time, some other reason to wear it. He reluctantly re-wraps the bustier and places it back in its bag. He’s got enough perfectly good choices here that he’s more amenable to letting them get shredded. If he has to sacrifice a pair of stockings and lace panties in order to get fucked by wolf-Steve, that’s a price he’s willing to pay.
And hey, tits-out is a good look on him, too. Bucky shrugs and turns his attention back to his choices of stockings and panties. He knows he’ll look good in any choices, but he has to find the right ones for the occasion.
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“Buck, please try to sleep,” Steve mumbles into Bucky’s hair, spooning him tighter. “Everything’s gonna go fine. The cabin’s all stocked and ready to go, we’ll get there in time, and I’m sure you’re as prepared as you need to be. I know how good you are about making sure everything’s right.”
“How’d you know I wasn’t asleep? I thought I was pretending pretty well,” Bucky says, deflecting. He’s excited, nervous. The full moon is tomorrow night, and he’s been running over his preparations in his head all day. Is he ready? Has he forgotten to do anything? Does he have his overnight bag packed and good to go? He’s checked off everything on his list three times tonight, but this is such a big deal, he has to be sure…
“The plates in your arm shift a little when you’re worrying and trying to pretend that you’re not,” Steve answers, pulling his hand back to stroke his palm gently down Bucky’s metal arm as if he can smooth down his worries. “If you gotta get up and check something, I won’t stop you, but you really should get some sleep. You can check your list again in the morning. Sleep now, check later. We’re gonna be busy tomorrow night.”
Bucky can hear the grin in Steve’s voice at that pronouncement.
“I’m holding you to that,” Bucky replies with a yawn as he wiggles deeper into Steve’s arms.
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Bucky’s all nervous excitement on the drive up to Steve’s cabin. He keeps his window down, dangling his hand out, feeling the warm early summer evening air rushing over his skin and tousling his hair. Steve is quiet for the drive, focusing on keeping the wolf contained; when Bucky glances over, he can see the concentration in every line of his body. They’re cutting things pretty close with the timing, but he trusts that Steve knows what he’s doing. He turns back to watch the scenery. The sun’s dipping low in the sky, painting the low clouds bloody reds, burning oranges, and vivid pinks over the treetops, leaves reflecting the glow. As soon as the sun slips far enough below the horizon and the full moon rises in its place, the wolf will emerge.
And when it does, Bucky will be ready. They’ve got this planned out perfectly. As soon as they reach the cabin, Steve will take their bags in and prepare for his transformation, and Bucky will put as much distance between himself and Steve as he can. Make it a challenge. Let Steve hunt him down, really get his blood flowing, let him claim him as his prey. Bucky takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, willing his cock to settle down. It’s not time yet. Steve darts a glance over at him like he knows what’s happening.
“You ready?” Steve asks, a hint of last-minute concern in his voice like he doesn’t believe that Bucky could want him like this.
“Oh, I’m ready,” Bucky replies, giving him a big grin. “This is gonna be fun.
“Good, because we’re almost there,” Steve says, turning his eyes back to the road. He signals his turn to the exactly no one else on the two-lane road out in the back end of nowhere.
The car crunches onto the gravel road, barely more than a trail, leading up to Steve’s cabin. Bucky grits his teeth and pulls his hand back inside the car to grip the armrest. He shifts, trying to adjust his sitting position to keep the tires-on-gravel vibrations from playing havoc with the plug in his ass. He wants to draw this out, get Steve worked up with the hunt, not go off right here in the car.
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you? You’re looking kind of antsy all of a sudden,” Steve asks, slowing the car almost imperceptibly.
“No, no, I’m good,” Bucky answers quickly with a broad smile, showing a flash of teeth. “Can’t fault me for being excited, can you? I mean, this doesn’t happen every day.”
“No, it does not,” Steve replies with a quiet chuckle. He stretches one hand on the wheel, splaying his fingers, knuckles popping.
They drive on in silence for the next ten minutes, the colors growing more muted in the sky, and the forest growing denser. Bucky listens to the sounds of the evening woods, diminishing birdsong marking the close of the day, crickets and katydids and countless other insects in the night-chorus welcoming the twilight.
The car slows to a stop, pulling Bucky out of his reverie. There’s a chain-link fence now, cutting its way through the forest. Bucky supposes it must be to keep any unwary hikers out, or a psychological deterrent for Steve, because he can’t imagine it could withstand a serum-enhanced werewolf if he decided he wanted to make a break for it. Leaving the car running, Steve hops out to unlock the gate and swings it open. Once they’re through the gate, closed and locked behind them, there’s another short stretch of trail before the trees begin to open up. There’s a clearing just large enough for a small cabin and a place to park a car. Bucky rolls up his window and Steve cuts the engine.
Bucky hitches his messenger bag over one shoulder and steps out of the car, eager to stretch his legs and get moving. He links his fingers and stretches his arms above his head, throwing out his chest and letting his shirt ride up, revealing a wink of crimson. He sees Steve’s response from the corner of his eye, a rise of his eyebrows followed by a toothy, predatory grin. He smirks back at him. The sun is no longer visible, hidden behind the trees, slipping softly below the horizon, deepening the shadows and adding a sense of fairytale to the woods. The moon will rise soon, and then the hunt will be on.
“Oh, go on now,” Bucky teases. “You’ll get to see more of what I’ve got under here when you find me.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Steve says, using his Captain America Is Being Very Serious voice. He disappears into the cabin and the windows light up.
Taking that as his cue, Bucky slips away into the trees, putting distance between himself and Steve. He looks for a safe place to strip down and stash his street clothes and bag. He walks softly, quickly and quietly, a holdover from his Winter Soldier days that he just can’t seem to shake. It does come in handy sometimes. He takes in the scenery, noting every rock, every tree, every shadow. The katydids chirp and scratch uninterrupted, unaware of or unconcerned by his presence. He moves deeper and deeper into the woods. As the light continues to fade, he pulls a camping lantern out of his bag and clicks it on its lowest setting.
Finding a half-dead tree with a twisted, lightning-shattered trunk, Bucky decides this is as good a place as any to leave his things. It’ll be memorable enough that he’ll be able to find it again without too much difficulty. He brushes the leaves aside and sits down to unlace his boots. As they come off, they reveal red silk stockings, deliciously sheer. He feels a little twinge of regret that he’ll be ruining them by traipsing through the woods barefoot, but it’ll be well worth it once Steve hunts him down. His t-shirt comes off to reveal a lacy, crimson garter belt. He quickly unbuttons and unzips his jeans, stepping out of them as he rises; the lacy red panties underneath sit low on his hips and hide very little. He removes the red satin cloak from his bag and lets the smooth, supple fabric flow over itself and unfurl. He shakes it out, considers it with a smile, and wraps it around his shoulders. He juts out one hip and practices a pout and a contrapposto, twirling one finger in the hem of the cloak. He reaches back to check the plug, making sure it’s settled firmly, but also that Steve should still be able to remove it in his wolf-form. Satisfied, he tucks his boots and clothes into his bag, hangs it from a high branch, and slips away to be hunted.
The forest takes on a far different character when you make yourself vulnerable, Bucky decides. The ground, soft and silent with loam and moss and leaf litter under his boots, becomes predatory, sticks and debris grasping and clawing at his bare feet. Fully clothed, the night air is pleasantly warm, with just enough breeze to keep it from being too still, too heavy. With only his lingerie and thin cloak, the air prickles softly on his skin as the day fades into dusk. The insects all around him grow louder, throwing their chirps and rasps into the night, a blanket of unease settling over the woods. Their asymmetric voices overlap and rise to a crescendo as he pushes deeper into the trees. The moon, full and pale, rises higher in the sky as his lantern sheds its artificial light far below.
Bucky allows the forest to swallow him up. As the wolf, these wild woods are as much a part of Steve as Brooklyn is. He waits. He moves. He anticipates.
As suddenly as it began, the night chorus falls eerily silent. Bucky stops in his tracks, immediately alert. He knew the plan had been to allow Steve to sneak up on him, but he had wondered if his instincts and training would allow anyone to get the drop on him, werewolf or no. A thrill of fear and excitement makes itself felt in his stomach. He cautiously turns his lantern up a notch.
“Hello?” Bucky asks the silent trees, slipping into character. “Is somebody there?”
A soft crackle, a deliberate snapping of a twig directly behind him makes the hairs rise on his neck. Bucky turns slowly, left hand holding the cloak shut at his chest. He startles, genuinely shocked, as he comes face to face with Steve in his wolf form. He hadn’t actually ever seen Steve as the wolf before, and he’s awed—a little afraid, and a lot aroused. He’s going to put that last one down to a danger kink and not think too deeply into why he wants to be fucked by a werewolf, except that this werewolf is Steve, and Steve is giving him things he was never allowed to have as the Winter Soldier. The Soldier did not acknowledge pain. The Soldier did not show fear. The Soldier was not allowed to experience pleasure. Danger was merely part of his duties.
In his wolf-form, Steve is massive, even larger than his usual tall, muscular frame. He’s still wearing his shield harness and his gloves, but those little touches of his human self just serve to enhance the uneasiness of the situation. His fur is a chestnut brown on his back, around his eyes, and on top of his muzzle, changing to tawny gold on his sides and upper limbs, then fading to a pale, sandy blond on his forearms, feet, and belly. His eyes are still a piercing blue. Steve drops his jaw in a lupine smile, tongue lolling out over his sharp teeth as he sizes Bucky up.
Bucky’s knees are suddenly weak and he stumbles to the ground, dropping his lantern. He recovers enough to shuffle and turn his back to Steve, righting the lantern so it illuminates him. Steve can probably see pretty well in the moonlight, but why not try to make sure he gets a better look? He plays coy. “Oh! You surprised me there,” he says, clutching the cloak tighter, glancing over his shoulder, right hand rising to touch a finger lightly to his chin.
Steve pulls his tongue back into his mouth and closes his teeth, still bared. He gives a quiet, throaty growl and takes a step closer to Bucky to sniff at him. Bucky’s back bows reflexively as Steve’s nose brushes the nape of his neck; he can feel Steve’s breath through the fabric of the cloak. His cock twitches in anticipation, pushing against the lace of his panties.
“My, what a big nose you have,” Bucky says, dropping his right hand to the hem of the cloak just above his left. Steve continues sniffing, over his left shoulder and down his arm to his elbow. Bucky simply watches, unable or unwilling to move. “My, what big eyes you have,” he adds, voice subdued.
Steve turns his head, eyes meeting Bucky’s, staring into him. He bares his teeth again in a hungry grin.
“My, what big teeth you have,” Bucky says, voice almost a whisper. He’s fully hard now, having fun with the roleplay, but also eager for Steve to make his move. He opens the cloak wider, revealing more of his body, and brushing his hands lightly over his nipples, pebbled with the slight chill of the air and arousal. He cups his pecs briefly, pushing them up and together, a deliberate tease. Steve licks his chops and rears up on his hind legs, towering over Bucky.
“My, what a big cock you have,” Bucky says appreciatively, slipping the hood of the cloak off and staring lecherously. Steve’s cock is an eye-catching red, beginning to emerge from its sheath.
Bucky lets the cloak fall from his shoulders, puddling around his feet. He rises to his feet again, back still to Steve. “You like what you see, don’t you?” he asks, pushing his ass out a bit, enticing.
Steve growls again, louder. Bucky feels the leather of Steve’s gloves on his hips, long claws just grazing his skin. Steve’s grip tightens possessively, then releases just enough for him to slip his fingers into the waistband of Bucky’s panties. Bucky closes his eyes and shivers a little, lips parted as he hears the delicate fabric tear under Steve’s claws, freeing his cock. His instincts are confused. Arousal fights with fear, the desire to let Steve have his way with him wrestles with the reflex to fight back, to put an end to a dangerous situation by whatever means necessary.
Steve presses himself up heavily against Bucky’s back, arms wrapping around his chest, forcing him down onto his hands and knees. His fur is surprisingly soft, his cock hot and firm, its length dragging over the cleft of Bucky’s ass. Bucky gasps as he drops onto to all fours.
“Wow, you sure are forward, aren’t you? Buy a girl a drink, first,” Bucky teases, groaning under Steve’s weight. His words belie his desire, oh, god, he wants this so badly. His balls are tight, his cock achingly hard. He needs the plug out and Steve in him now.
Steve pauses in his advances, giving a questioning whine. One hand drops to the ground to support himself, taking some of his weight off of Bucky.
“No, you’re fine,” Bucky answers, hoping he understood properly Steve’s wordless question. He shakes his head a little. Ever the gentleman, even as a wolf. “Just playing hard to get, you know, staying in character. Any time you’d like to get in me, you’re more than welcome.”
Steve licks Bucky’s cheek in reply and lays his full weight on his back again, possessive. One of his hands fondles Bucky’s chest, claws teasing his nipple, and the other slips down to find the base of the plug. Steve’s breath is loud in Bucky’s ear. Bucky bites his lip and moans as the claws scratch lightly over the sensitive skin of his ass before closing around the plug. Steve licks his cheek again, and Bucky relaxes further into his hold, spreading his legs wider.
The plug comes out and is quickly replaced with Steve’s cock, long, firm, and growing thicker by the moment. Bucky gasps as he takes him deep, feeling the short fur of Steve’s sheath against his ass. Steve’s hand caresses Bucky’s hip, moving around to paw at his cock, leaking already. The rough pads on Steve’s fingers stroking over his cock, slick with his precome, makes him shiver with desire. The arm around his chest squeezes tighter and Steve presses his bared teeth against the side of his neck. The thrill of danger surges through Bucky’s body, enhancing every sensation. He feels the heat of Steve’s body opposing the cool night air. He feels the luxurious softness of Steve’s fur contrasted against the heavy weight pressing him down, dominating him. He smells the heady, muskiness of the wolf covering him. He feels Steve’s breath on his neck, raising goosebumps and making the short hairs stand on end.
He moans loudly, lewdly, wantonly, as Steve begins to thrust. The thrusts are shallow but strong, rocking Bucky with their power. Bucky digs his fingers into the earth and the leaf litter, grounding himself and reveling in the fullness and the vigor with which Steve fucks him. His chest heaves, his cock twitches and drips, and his orgasm builds, hot and deep and urgent within him.
“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky moans, “this is… Oh god, I need this, I need you... Take me, make me yours.”
Steve gives a sharp bark of acknowledgment and buries his full length deep inside Bucky. His hips still for a moment, and then Bucky’s crying out as Steve’s knot begins to swell, filling him, pressing and rubbing against his prostate. Steve wraps both arms around his chest, clutching him tight. He fills the air with a howl of desire and Bucky’s ass with a deluge of come. Bucky can feel Steve’s cock pulsing, over and over, locked inside him by its knot. It’s an exhilarating, overwhelming feeling. As Steve thrusts through the aftershocks, grasping Bucky to him and howling his orgasm to the wind, it’s enough to push Bucky over. He gasps and comes.
The orgasm rushes over him, his skin electric as he spills onto the ground. He lists to the right as his elbow buckles, suddenly weak. Steve’s arm is immediately there to support him, both of them. Bucky wobbles and pants, catching his breath and coming back to himself. He’s oversensitive, but part of him doesn’t care—part of him loves it. Steve’s not exactly a small guy, but this is something else. The knot feels huge inside him, locking them together and demanding his submission.
Bucky’s barely had a moment to think before Steve’s moving again, rolling his hips gently, still coming in little bursts, filling him even fuller. He squirms and moans, tears leaking from his eyes, reveling in the pleasure and the almost-pain.
“I can take it,” Bucky moans, voice wrecked. “You need this, I need this. I’m yours, Steve, I’m yours.”
Steve licks his cheek, a soothing gesture. Slowly, gently, he unfurls himself from Bucky. He drops a hand to the ground to support the two of them and lifts his other hand to brush Bucky’s hair back, tucking a lock behind his ear, careful to keep his claws out of Bucky’s face. He gives a rising whine, another question.
“Good, very good,” Bucky replies, breathless. “Like nothing I’ve ever felt before, wow. You weren’t lying when you said it was a lot of come, I’m so full of you.”
Steve gives a short, almost smug-sounding bark and settles a little heavier back down onto Bucky. Bucky drops his head and breathes slowly, deeply. He closes his eyes and just feels, reveling in Steve in him and on him. However long it takes for Steve’s knot to go down, part of him feels it won’t be long enough. The knot feels so big, so insistent, claiming him and making him Steve’s. In this moment, he has no duties, no responsibilities, nothing to do except be. Steve is his and he is Steve’s.
After what feels like an eternity locked together, Bucky can feel Steve’s knot beginning to soften and go down. Steve huffs a sigh and lifts himself up again, completely off of Bucky’s back. Bucky has a sudden sensation of floating with Steve’s weight gone, and then Steve’s hands are on his hips and he’s pulling out. Bucky hisses at both the sudden emptiness and the sudden hot spill of come down his perineum. He groans and straightens up, rising slowly to his feet, feeling rivulets of come running down his ass and thighs. He stinks of sex and sweat and wolf. He’s got dirt under his fingernails and in the joints between plates. His panties are a shredded mess, lost somewhere in the leaves. One garter hangs loose, stocking slid down to his knee. His cloak is tangled and snarled with debris. His stockings are laddered and streaked with come. He’s a mess, utterly fucked out, and he loves it.
Dropping down to all fours, Steve gently picks up Bucky’s cloak in his teeth and offers it to him. Bucky thanks him, takes it, shakes it out, and wraps it around his shoulders. Steve sprints into the trees, disappearing briefly from sight, before circling back. He whuffs softly at Bucky, nosing at his arm.
“You still have energy to run off after that?” Bucky chuckles. “Oh, go on, I can find my way back to the cabin. You do what you gotta do, I need a shower. Your cock is a fuckin’ firehose, you know that? I wouldn’t change a thing, but I am still leaking.”
Steve’s eyes glint in the moonlight and he bares his teeth in a possessive grin. He rears up on his hind legs, throws his head back, and howls. It’s long, low, and penetrating, resonating deep within Bucky. Steve looks down at Bucky, staring into his eyes again before disappearing into the trees. Bucky stretches his legs, stoops to retrieve his lantern, and begins the walk back to the tree to collect his bag, and then to the cabin to get cleaned up. A nice, hot shower before bed would be a perfect cap to this night.
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Bucky sends up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever invented the rapid hot water heater. A proper hot shower in a cabin in the back of nowhere? Beautiful. He gives a groan of pleasure as the hot water eases the night’s chill out of his skin. Right now, all he wants to do is fall into bed with Steve curled around his back, holding him close. He knows Steve’ll be back before the end of the night, but right now he’s still out there, taking care of werewolf things, whatever they might be. Bucky’ll manage, but he hadn’t given enough thought to what would happen afterwards. They’ll have to plan a little better, next time—because there will be a next time.
But in the meantime, he’s got a hot shower to help ease the chill, the soreness, and maybe even the low-level longing. Bucky will get warm and clean and dry, he’ll go to bed, and in the morning, he’ll wake up with Steve’s arms around him and everything will be right in that moment.
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Bucky’s resting, but not truly asleep, tucked under a blanket in one of the big wing chairs flanking the fireplace when Steve returns to the cabin hours later, much subdued.
The lights are all out, but the fire is crackling low and warm and there’s an empty mug on the hearth. Bucky cracks one eye and a tired smile blooms on his face as the door clicks and swings open and Steve ambles in. He looks worn out, but the good kind of tired that comes after an intense workout or enthusiastic sex (or both). Steve kicks the door shut with a hind paw, glances around the front room, cocks his head, and gives a rising whine when he sees Bucky. He trots over, sits down on the floor, and lays his head on Bucky’s legs.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Bucky answers with a yawn, reaching down to stroke one of Steve’s ears. “I dunno, usually I don’t have a problem sleeping when we’re apart, but it just didn’t feel right without you. Maybe because it’s a new place, maybe because it’s your place and you should be there with me.”
Steve rises back to his feet and gestures with his body in the direction of the bedroom.
“Yeah, just lemme take care of the fire and I’ll be right there,” Bucky replies.
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When Bucky returns to the bedroom, Steve is curled up on one side of the bed, tail thumping slowly against the mattress. He stares meaningfully up at Bucky.
“Yeah, I’m coming, don’t worry,” Bucky says, walking over to the open side of the bed and climbing in. He pulls the blanket up over both of them and lets Steve wrap his arm around him, pulling him close. Despite the danger inherent in sharing a bed with a werewolf, Bucky feels secure, warm and content. He drifts off to sleep.
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“Morning, sunshine,” Steve says, gently nudging Bucky awake. When Bucky stretches and sits up, he places a tray with a plate of sausage links, hashbrowns, and scrambled eggs over his lap. As soon as the tray’s down, he adds a cup of fresh, hot coffee. “Breakfast is served.”
“Mm, thank you,” Bucky replies, picking up the fork and digging into the fried potatoes. “You look… well-rested.”
“Thanks,” Steve says, sitting down next to Bucky, careful not to jostle his breakfast. “I don’t look this good immediately after shifting, but you managed to sleep through it all, so I just cleaned up quietly and made breakfast. You must’ve been really worn out after last night; I didn’t overdo things, did I?”
“No, no, of course not,” Bucky replies quickly. “You don’t remember?”
“I remember things from when I’m transformed sort of like I’m viewing them through a foggy window,” Steve explains. “I know we had sex, I know I enjoyed it immensely, and I want to say I remember you enjoying it too, but I want to be sure I didn’t hurt you or do anything wrong.”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Bucky says, shaking his head emphatically. “I loved it. You were amazing; I didn’t know I needed that like I did. Knotting? Again, amazing. Only bad thing I have to say was when I got back, after I showered, I tried to sleep but I just couldn’t. I felt kind of antsy, empty, and all I wanted was to have you back with me. I fell asleep after you got back, but that must have been hours later.”
“Yeah, no wonder you were tired,” Steve says softly, scooting in closer to Bucky and smoothing down his bed-hair. “How can I do better next time?—Do you want there to be a next time?”
“Oh, I definitely want a next time,” Bucky grins. “And if it won’t be too much trouble, do you think you could run first, and then, once that’s done, find me and fuck me so we can go back to the cabin together? When I got back last night, all I wanted to do was get clean, get warm, and have you spoon me for the rest of the night.”
“I can absolutely do that, work up an appetite, so to speak,” Steve grins back. “Anything else you want me to do for you today?”
“When I’m done with this,” Bucky gestures towards his plate, “do you think you’d be up for a walk with me? I want to see these woods in the daytime, and I think there might be a couple things I didn’t pick up last night that shouldn’t get carried off by squirrels.”
“Of course, I’d love to walk with you,” Steve smiles. “This place really is beautiful—especially with you in it.”
“You sap,” Bucky laughs, elbowing Steve.
“You love it,” Steve says.
“Yeah, I do.”