Rumlow might be right to feel lucky in this particular case, because Steve had half a mind to rip all of his clothes off and go at him the moment that they got through his front door. He wasn't thinking straight, he realized that, hopped up on hormones and adrenaline and who knew what else. The serum meant that sometimes he felt things even stronger than other people; Steve just hadn't realized it could apply to this too.

(Then again, he had noticed a while back that masturbation was better now than it ever had been before the serum, but he figured that was mainly because he didn't have to worry about all of his illnesses holding him back.)

At first Rumlow placed his arms where anyone would while riding backseat on a motorcycle, but as soon as Steve got the bike going and steered them toward the parking lot's exit, that changed. Rumlow's touch might as well have been sending sparks up and down Steve's leg, and more alarmingly to his groin. He had to fight not to jerk right out of his seat as he pulled out onto the street.

"Are you trying to make me crash this thing?" Steve sounded aggravated, there was no doubt about that, but there was something else in his tone too, his voice coming out a little rougher because of how badly he wanted to pull over and take care of this right now.