The apartment room in Brooklyn Steve shared with Bucky was small, cramped, and never quite warm enough in winter, no matter how much newspaper they stuffed in the cracks. Steve grew used to wearing gloves around the apartment during wintertime, layering on thick sweaters and shabby jackets under his thin blanket. Even then, he usually woke up shivering.
Not tonight. Tonight, Steve could feel sweat bead at the back of his neck, making the hair curl dark and wet at his nape. His thin, pale arms trembled violently as they struggled to keep his body upright. Behind him, the man - Tony, he called himself - had two long, clever fingers knuckle-deep in Steve’s body and fucked them in and out leisurely as he swirled his tongue along the knobs of Steve’s spine.
Steve had never met Tony before this day, nor had he ever made love to a man outside of his heated imagination, guiltily pleasuring himself under the covers while Bucky lay snoring across the room. Steve had always thought that there was something wrong with the way he felt, and he never dared to even look at another man that way, especially since doing so was a jail-able offense. But Tony, with his uncombed hair and dark eyes, was a man who inspired sin.
And Steve had so few defenses against temptation (had little practice resisting it, in fact, neither men nor women were exactly lining up for a shrimp like him).
Tony made love like it was a strange and wonderful sport. There was no guilt or shame in his expression as he took Steve in his mouth and did dirty, unspeakable acts only written about in dime-store novels.
Tony seemed to take great pleasure at how easily he could manhandle Steve, something Steve would’ve sputtered angrily at, if only his mouth would stop moaning.
"Believe me," Tony said as he pinned Steve’s wrists above his head. "This isn’t something I get to indulge in usually."
Steve wondered if Tony was an old hand at sleeping with men, and felt a flash of jealousy.
"Future- oops." Tony made a zipping motion across his lips and grinned. "Sorry, don’t want to upset the time-space continuum and all that."
That made no sense to Steve, but then there was Tony’s cock, the heat and stretch of it that, even oiled, made Steve whimper.
"Baby," Tony said, rubbing his trembling skin, "It’s okay, we don’t have to-"
"I want to," Steve said stubbornly, shoving his hips down, and even though he had little leverage pinned under Tony, it forced Tony’s cock another inch, making both men groan.
"Okay, okay," Tony said, his voice strained. He rolled his hips, grinding against something in Steve that made every muscle in his body spasm.
"Ohgod," Steve moaned, tugging at Tony’s grip on his wrists as he tried to fuck back against Tony’s cock, tried to replicate that feeling. "More, please-"
"Well as long as you’re polite about it," Tony said, grinning. He fucked Steve in slow, short strokes until Steve was wailing, trying to muffle his noises with his wrist because of the paper-thin walls. With luck his neighbors would think that it was just Bucky with another one of his girls. When Steve was boneless and nearly incoherent with pleasure, Tony put a hand around his bobbing cock.
With one, firm stripe, Steve came, splattering over his heaving chest and Tony’s stomach. Tony’s rough, calloused hand milked him through it, until Steve was squirming with over-stimulation. Only then did Tony take his own pleasure, pinning down Steve’s hips and fucking down hard and fast, completing with a shout of Steve’s name muffled in the curve of his shoulder.
They dozed, Steve cradled wholly in the curve of Tony’s body. He felt warm in his bed for the first time since winter began.