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WHO: Steve Rogers v 1.Werewolf, Meeting up with Betty and OPEN
WHAT: Letting Betty risk her life to deliver a message and roaming around.
WHEN: Flexible
WHERE: City of Tomorrow
NOTES/WARNINGS: None, will update as necessary.

Betty:
He meets Betty, bright and early Thursday morning. He's dressed in the dark blues of shield, but it's not a uniform, it's his compromise to not standing out in vivid colors, without resorting to the harshness of black. He's nervous while he waits on her, wants to pace, wants to maybe change his mind and back out.

But it's Bucky. He needs to know Bucky's okay - or even just alive, since he's not stupid enough to believe okay, really okay, is even possible. It's not possible for Betty either, though. The conflict there is acute so the first thing he says when he spots her is, "You sure about this?"

Open:
Human:
Steve spends most of his days around City of Tomorrow. He's restless and anxious, and hanging around here is easier for him to do than waiting around in his own world. It stops him from micromanaging, wanting to hover, or clamp down and demand information updates every five minutes.

So he wanders the streets, pokes into McAran tower, grabs cheese fries and a burger at lunch and a steak for dinner. He checks into a coffee shop, has a drink there and even manages to spend a few minutes sketching.

Wolf:
When night falls, he stows his clothes somewhere safe and accessible enough, finds a private corner to change in and spends the night more obviously roaming and pacing - on four feet and with a thick coat of fur. He is, if anything, more into sticking his nose into things that are none of his business and places he doesn't belong.

Not that he belongs in the city at all.

He clearly isn't shy or reclusive, though, much less afraid. He'll approach people, and be reasonably happy to be approached by them.

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Sam snorts in return, shooting him a little teasing smile. "So keep on covering your ass when we go charging into things but don't get paranoid, got it."

He sets the steaks on the stove top grill, leaning against the counter as he considers that.

"Huh. All right, then, note to myself: maybe start showering a little bit extra. So what about..." He pauses as he tries to figure out how to ask 'so is it like those werewolf movies where the dude goes all crazy' without actually saying that. "I mean, tonight it seemed like you were still pretty much you, just as a wolf. Is it different if it's not optional?"

"Sounds about right. Maybe cover my ass a little more literally and start stashing pants around, just in case." Is he self-depreciating? You bet your ass he is, because he's Steve. Also because it might come in handy.

His eyes track from the steak, then back to Sam's face and he shrugs a little. "Doesn't seem to make any real difference. Guess I'm a little... hotter tempered, more likely to react first and think later." Which - well, maybe of that what you will, Sam. Which leads him back around to - "Why would you shower more?"

You don't smell bad, Sam. You smell -

Okay, that's awkward, but good. Part of what feels good about this place.

All right, he can't help but laugh at that, sudden and soft and grin going wide. "Mmm, I think I can handle that. Not all that much to cover, really." There's a glint in his eye as he throws some sass back, though he manages to hold off from adding in something about the view.

"Good to know. All right, yeah, I got this. I've handled 'my best friend is a super soldier from the stone age' for a while now, I can handle throwing wolf in there, too. Give me a head's up if things start getting... I don't know, worse? Weirder? Whatever." His brows furrow a little at Steve's question, and he shrugs one shoulder. "You know, the sense of smell thing. Not all of us are the run thirteen miles without breaking a sweat type."

"Keep calling it the stone-age, Mister, and I'm gonna start communicating with points and grunts." Which was teasing. He was smiling when he said it, his tone was warm. His smile's maybe not as certain since he's still feeling - pun not intended - exposed, but it's Sam and the warmth is just a thing that's there, with him. He couldn't turn that off hif he tried.

He blinks a little at the rest, though, and the smile fades a bit. "...I promise you, Sam, any soap you use is gonna bothr my nose a heck of a lot more than you smelling like you,."

That gets another chuckle out of Sam. "Now that I'd almost like to see." It's always been so damn easy between them, right from the very beginning, and Sam's almost grateful to see that's apparently still true even when Steve's revealing that he's a werewolf.

Granted, Sam'd always thought he'd be open minded and judgement free - more or less - about anything Steve wanted to share with him, but he hadn't quite counted on werewolf.

His brows pinch a little when Steve's smile slips, though, because he isn't a hundred percent on what'd made that happen, and he hadn't meant to kill the teasing mood. Which means he's definitely going to try to bring it back. "You got it, I'll scratch that off the list. That sounds almost like a compliment, man, you saying I smell good?"

...all right, he'd maybe slipped a little closer to flirting banter than teasing there, but it's not like he hasn't done that before.

He arches an eyebrow at Sam for the first, implying heavily that if Sam's going to make it a dare, Steve's going to pick it up. Smart people can walk away from dares. It's not a kind of intelligence Steve has. Has ever had. Is likely to ever have.

The rest... Good news: Steve wouldn't recognize flirting if it walked up and kissed him square on the lips. The bad: He still gets a little uneasy in response to the question, because he's aware of his own feelings and that he's maybe exposing them here. He overcompensates, and looks Sam square in the eye. "Why do you think I'm so comfortable being here? Smells like you."

His grin just widens a little at that arched eyebrow. Sam likes to think that he does have the kind of intelligence that makes him being able to walk away from a challenge. Sometimes. But mostly, nah, that's one place he and Steve are a little too similar, and he's kind of looking forward to seeing what Steve does with it.

And then Steve says that.

Sam's eyes widen a little in surprise. He hadn't actually expected Steve to get all direct like that, though in retrospect, he probably should have. He swallows a little, just the smallest bit off balance. It's a hell of a lot easier to be charming and flirty when he doesn't have a stake in anything, or when he can convince himself it's just silly banter. He loses his game a little when he's got Steve looking at him like this, open and honest. Maybe because it forces him to admit that it does mean something, at least to Sam.

But he doesn't look away, or try to take it back to light and teasing. Instead he angles himself a little closer, smiling at Steve soft and sincere. "Wish I'd known that earlier, I've been trying to figure out the best way to get you comfortable and relaxing a little since I first met you. Gonna have to try to rope you into coming around here more often."

Steve doesn't back down but he doesn't get any closer, either. He keeps an eye on Sam, tries to sort out a response to that that won't make Sam cut, run, or feel ... what? obligated? Put on?

In the end, he just doesn't know, but wolf-nature and Steve nature combine to have him finally leaning lightly against him. "You need to spend less of your time worrying about me." Not that he's not grateful; he is. He just worries bout Sam back and doesn't want to be Sam's problem.

Kind of the opposite of what he wants, actually.

His expression lights up, just a little, when Steve leans against him like that. He doesn't exactly realize he's doing it, but he knows the way it makes him want to shift closer - and he tells himself that Steve's just being friendly, that he shouldn't push it.

But he still stays where he is for a long moment. "Don't think of it as worrying, just think of it as me wanting you to be happy. Anything I find out that's gonna do that is good in my book."

Especially when it involves something about Sam himself, or something Sam can do. He leans over to flip the steaks, giving a chuckle to bring himself back to the more comfortable banter as he asks, "We can add one more to the list, how do you like your steak?"

Push it, Sam. Steve's being more than friendly, even if he doesn't quite know it, and he's more into physical contact than he's ever been. More tactile, more willing to seek it out. Which means he leans, Sam leans, and Steve leans a little bit harder, before Sam moves to deal with the steaks.

"Still seems pretty unbalanced to me. How about you start sharing some of the things that make you happy?" Otherwise, it's just not fair. Not that his only motivation for wanting Sam happy and to do for him is Steve's sense of fair play.

Not even close.

He shakes his head with a self-depreciating snort. "I'm gonna go for medium and not gross you out, but if it ever saves you work in the future, you could toss it to me raw and bleeding and I'd eat it."

If it was anyone else, or maybe under different circumstances, Sam'd probably be more eager to push. But Steve means a hell of a lot to him, more than he's willing to admit, and it makes him falter, just a little. Not enough to be able to resist touching Steve every opportunity he gets, though.

"Woulda been more grossed out if you said well done, man, I couldn't do that to a piece of meat this beautiful. How about we say rare?"

He pulls out a pair of plates before he goes back to that first question, looking back over at Steve. "I'm not the one who said they didn't know what made them happy, can you blame me for wanting to change that?" He'd meant it to be teasing, and it comes out light, but his smile is a little too soft and genuine to really sell it.

"But yeah, all right, it's an easy question. Flying makes me happy. Running, even when some jerk decides to chase me around and make fun of me. Listening to music, a good glass of wine. Cooking."

Sam bumps Steve's shoulder playfully with his, lingering against it. "This makes me pretty damn happy."

He doesn't bump back so much as he leans back, then moves to grab silverware, even though he has to guess at where it'll be, and take his plate. "I'm not saying that I blame you." Blame's a nasty word, implies that there's some kind of resentment there, and there's not.

There is, however, a little envy at how easily that answer comes to Sam. "Just that maybe it isn't the most balanced thing in the world." Isn't fair to Sam is still what he means. "You want to eat this at the table?" Tell him where to go, Falcon.

"Yeah, man, table's good. Gimme a sec and I'll join you."

He cooks his own steak for just a little bit longer before he heads over. Sam mulls over his steak for a moment, considering how he wants to word his reply to the rest of that - and he's knows when he looks back up at Steve, his smile is soft and affectionate, but he can't do much about that.

"You're a good guy, Steve. There aren't a lot of people who think that way, you know? Trying to make sure things are equal, looking for what they got to give another person - and trust me, I'm right there with you. There's a reason I didn't have anyone to leave behind when I went with you. But sometimes it flips the other way, when you're so focused on what the world needs outta you that you don't think about what you need. What you want."

There's the briefest pause as Sam wrinkles his nose. "That was a hell of a long way of saying you don't gotta worry about that with me, man, you give plenty. We're balanced."

Steve settles down at the table with his plate, a fork and a knife and he's busy chewing through most of what Sam says, though he's paying attention - eyes up on the person talking, properly listening.

He swallows in time for answer. "Sure," he agrees. "We're balanced because I'm gonna worry about it with you exactly the way you worry about me. Otherwise we're unbalanced again, and things get weird." Things being him.

He doesn't quite know how he 'got' Sam, but he's not interested in losing another friend who sees him for himself, instead of Captain America. He is Captain America but he's not... the comic book guy.

It's not like he wants Steve to worry about him - pretty much the opposite of that, really - but he can't deny the warmth that spreads through him when Steve says that. It's nice to have someone who cares about how he's doing the same way he cares about them. Well. Almost the same way Sam cares about him, anyway.

But Sam doesn't want to make this weird, either, so he just grins a little. "All right, all right. We'll worry about each other and do our best to make each other happy, sounds good to me."

He takes another bite of his steak, swallowing it down before he adds, "And speaking of that, how about we cross one of those movies off your list after this?"

When Sam spells it out in exactly those terms, Steve has a wild moment of thinking that it sounds like they're dating, and that they're doing dinner and a movie makes it worse. He wants to crack a joke about it, but finds out he can't.

As illusions and accidental shit goes, this isn't the worst. It's one he'll enjoy spending an evening in. He might even enjoy it more than the real thing, since he won't overthink and get in his own way.

"Yeah, sure," he agrees, after a moment of looking at Sam. "You pick, though and I get to clean up while you do it."

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