It was a damn good thing that no one walked in, too. Granted, if the elevator had stopped at a floor before Steve's, he would have at least had the presence of mind to break away from Rumlow. It didn't end up being a problem, probably because of the late hour. He would usually never endorse any kind of public display of affection (although it was more like a public display of ball-busting lust), but he didn't usually get felt up in a theater either.

Rumlow's hands on his bare skin made Steve feel like his breath had got caught somewhere in his windpipe, but he managed to moan against Rumlow's mouth anyway, intertwining their tongues and then sliding the tip of his over the back of Rumlow's teeth.

The hip grinding was probably a little much given that they could still be walked in on, but at least the elevator reached its destination then. Steve was preparing to withdraw and step out when Rumlow's thigh wedged up against his crotch and he actually had to slap a hand over his own mouth to muffle the sound that came out then. Shit, he was in way too deep and he had no idea how to pry himself back out again.

"On it," he said with a heaving sigh when Rumlow practically ordered him to get his apartment door open. Steve didn't even think to make a comment about insubordination, but instead stalked down the apartment hallway like a man on a mission. He barely fumbled with his keys, his hands strangely still with the pure determination of getting them inside as soon as possible.

The door swung open and Steve stepped inside, barely stopping himself from dragging Rumlow in with him by the collar.