Author's Note: For Pandabetalock on AO3.

Steve was watching him from the open entryway, leaning one of those big shoulders against the door jam, arms crossed over his chest. He was already half out of his uniform, boots discarded in the living room, his weapons holsters and shield straps shed in a trail down the hallway. His top had been lost at some point, too. Normally, Bucky would be taking this opportunity to appreciate the captain's impressive physique or fussing over the already fading bruises that he could see peeking out from under the collar of his sweaty undershirt. There were scrapes along his forearms that had already healed and a few rust-colored smears near his hands and fanning over his cheek and brow on the right side of his face.

Bucky scowled, looking away from Steve and glaring at his reflection in the mirror above his dresser. There were a pair of short cat ears poking up out of his messy hair, the tips velvety smooth with black fur. They shifted as he watched them, flicking this way and that, rotating to pick up the soft sounds of the apartment, of the building settling, of Steve breathing.

"Don't say anything," he started to say at the same time that Steve opened his mouth to reassure Bucky that:

"They look awful cute."

His new ears pulled back, pressed flat to his skull as he bristled. Bucky was glad he hadn't taken the full brunt of Loki's spell earlier and ended up with a matching tail, or whiskers and fur all over. No way he would ever hear the end of that.

"Oh, shut up, nobody asked you," Bucky huffed, and added sourly, "I don't even like cats."

Steve had the audacity to grin at that comment. Asshole. "Well, you're definitely a cat-person now."

"I shoulda let you take the hit this time," Bucky grumbled, but they both knew he didn't really mean it. He had been covering Steve when the spell grazed him. The lug was always tossing around that shield of his, sending it spinning through the air to ricochet off alien foot soldiers instead of using it defensively.

"C'mon, I would have looked stupid as a catboy."

"You always look stupid, you punk," Bucky snapped, pulling off the rest of his combat gear and clothes. There was no sense in standing around stinking up his room waiting for the spell to wear off. He might as well take a shower and wash the grime and sweat off. Steve didn't argue, which Bucky took to mean that the blond was more interested in watching him undress. "You probably woulda got puppy ears. A big dumb golden retriever, that's what you'd be."

He snuck a glance back towards the door and caught Steve beaming at him, smile bright as the sun. His voice was warm and fond when he replied, "Yeah, probably."

Bucky snorted, yanking a change of clean clothes out of his dresser and slamming the drawer closed. He brushed past the captain on his way out of his room, stalking naked towards the bathroom to shower. Bucky shot Steve a scathing look as he paused in the hallway. "Well, dogface, you gonna join me, or what?"

If Steve had had a tail, Bucky thought, it would have been wagging.