Originally posted in November 2014 as part of a 30 day writing challenge on Archive of Our Own.
For a long time, it's just Steve and his mother, and that's enough. Sometimes it gets a little lonely – a little quiet, when Sarah is still at work and Steve is home alone reading books and doodling in a worn out notebook – but Steve doesn't mind it. It's kind of nice, sometimes, when he's got a thousand things racing through his head and something fierce and restless itching under his skin, to be alone – to not have to worry about snapping at his ma or being crowded in on all sides on a crowded New York sidewalk.
The year he turns ten, his ma takes him out of the city one weekend to a sprawling forest in New Jersey for his birthday. There, Steve is free to run and play and do as he wishes, and the burning under his skin isn't so bad after, sits quiet and calm inside his chest when they return to the city Sunday night.
Two weeks later the Barneses move into the apartment down the hall and Steve's world shifts, because there's something wild inside them, too. Steve can tell as soon as they get home from the park, and the only thing that keeps him from racing up the stairs is Sarah's low, warning growl and her tight grip on his shoulders.
He trails behind her obediently, watches from the open door of their apartment as she knocks on the door and a tall, dark-haired man answers.
Steve doesn't understand why the adults are so tense those first few minutes, too young to really understand, but he scampers over with all the eagerness of a puppy when Sarah relaxes, looks back and waves him over. Their new neighbor shouts something into his own apartment and soon after two kids appear. The first is a girl a few years younger than Steve with big brown eyes who eyes him suspiciously from behind her father's legs. A boy appears shortly after and every hair on the back of Steve's neck stands up, alert.
The other boy looks to be about his age – maybe a little older – and like most other kids is bigger than Steve. But the smaller boy can't stop staring, only drags himself from the trance when the boy sticks a hand out at him.
"I'm James Buchanan Barnes. Who are you?" he asks with no preamble.
"Steve. Steve Rogers." Steve shakes his hand and James smiles so wide that Steve can see where two of his teeth have fallen out; small, sharp canines are peeking from his gums where they're just starting to grow in.
"You can call me Bucky. Do you like baseball?" Bucky asks, and it all falls together from there.
Bucky and Steve are fast friends, and soon it's not strange to see Bucky trailing Steve around or vice versa whenever the two of them are in the same vicinity. It's partially because they're two of the only kids their age in the apartment building, and it's partly because the wild thing inside Steve is calmer around Bucky, doesn't push at his self-control until he's vibrating with excess energy.
Sarah seems to find it amusing, the corners of her mouth always quirked up when she catches sight of Bucky and Steve tangled up in a pile listening to the radio after a bout of playful wrestling.
After that it's the six of them: Steve and Bucky and their families, and they make a tidy, friendly pack in the middle of New York.
Years later, when Steve tells Bucky the name of his unit, Bucky nearly laughs his goddamn ass off.
"Yeah, it's hilarious, Buck," he mutters, sure that Bucky'll hear him even over the chatter from the rest of the camp.
Bucky just keeps laughing, slaps Steve's shoulder once for good measure.
After a while, even Steve has to admit that there's a certain irony to him and Bucky leading a unit called the Howling Commandos, all things considered.
"You make one full moon joke and I will shove you into the mud next time we're on patrol," Steve warns, puts a little growl into his words.
Bucky's eyes flash at the challenge and he cackles some more, canines bared in a wide grin. "I've always been faster than you. Just you try, Rogers. Just you try."