Prompt Post 1

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At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

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Update, April 22, 2014:
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[fill] Sea Change (2/?, Steve/Bucky, A/B/O)

[amandajean]

I've been fiddling with worldbuilding details, so it hasn't come as quickly as I'd like. Thanks for holding tight!

--

They interviewed Steve and Bucky over and over for the reels, between shots of Bucky staring down his scope at nothing and Steve letting his shield ricochet off of walls so he could catch it in one expert hand. Somewhere in there, the story of how they met transformed into something out of legends. No mention of Steve's status back then, but they'd met when they were kids anyway, supposedly too young to care about designations, and they didn't get segregated till junior high.

Kids in the schoolyard played with instinctive traits without the full force of biology to back them up. Bullies formed packs and picked on the little ones. Teachers did their best to pull them apart, but everyone quietly accepted that it was training for the real world, just alphas being alphas. Betas watched on the sidelines with a rubbernecker's gaze, and omega children learned by middle school how to lower their eyes and their heads when it got hot.

Except Steve. He yelled in some stupid bully probably-alpha's face until he got whacked in his own, and Bucky looked up from his game of hopscotch to see what all the fuss was about.

Tiny Steve Rogers fighting the bullies until his knuckles were raw and they had him buckling over on the blacktop made for a good story, and James Buchanan Barnes sauntering over and ending it all with a shove and one good punch made it even better. Bucky was pretty sure there was a trading card with his mug on it now, the origins of their childhood friendship immortalized underneath. Maybe somewhere in the fine print they put down his status, disappointing in the face of all that puff. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Beta. Had a kind of poetry to it. Much better than Sergeant Barnes, ace sniper and plucky sidekick.

Thing was, not once in any of that press did anyone mention why a bunch of eight year olds were trying to loosen a few of Steve's teeth. Sure, he was tiny, everyone in America knew that and clucked over it, but—he was tiny because he was a sickly little omega, small for his age and his designation both. And no one seemed to want to talk about that. It was a footnote, not part of the story the army wanted to sell. Just like Bucky's status.

Bucky thought, back then, and even when he shipped out, that they were an odd but matched pair; Steve so tiny and forceful, Bucky with the authority of a designation he could ape but didn't feel, not where it counted.

Bucky didn't feel like part of a matched set anymore.

For one, the smell that was as familiar to him as the humid grime of Brooklyn in summer, it was all messed up. Aside from what his body was doing in response to it, sending fifty kinds of wrong signals, it didn't smell too familiar. It didn't remind him of the Steve he'd left behind, the one he could all but tip over with a strong shove. Whatever they did to him changed him on a fundamental level, and if Bucky thought about that long, he'd get pissed.

He looked wrong, he smelled wrong, and his wrongness was taking Bucky down with him. Not once in over fifteen years had Bucky smelled anything but the coziness of Steve's omega scent. Not once had he felt something but the warm rush of brotherhood.