It didn't take very long for Steve to get used to Tony's flirting and blatant sexual language around the tower. He had done his research and knew well enough that Tony was very similar to his father in regards to sex. Cavalier, ghjkl. The man had had multiple partners and wasn't particularly shy about giving details of his escapades if someone asked. Steve learned to ignore it, to let it mostly drift in one ear and out the other. Occasional second hand arousal from Tony's stories and images of the man in compromising and otherwise lewd acts. For the most part, nothing he couldn't handle. It only started to become a problem when Tony suddenly turned this flirting to his direction.

It started subtle at first. He had barely noticed it until Natasha had rolled her eyes and told them to, "Tone the flirting down, boys." And Steve felt as though he had been slapped in the face. No, this wasn't flirting, casual touches, smirks from across the room, occasional winks, and joking between pals. This was what friends did. So he thought, until the flirting began to get more bold without the company of others.

"Bite me, Stark."

"Oh, believe me, I'd like to."

"Hit the showers."

"Sure thing. Join me?"

"Ah, fuck me."

"If you're offering."

"I have you! Tap out!"

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather just establish a safe word."

Steve had just been brushing them off, dismissing them as Tony's idea of a joke. If a cruel one. After all, there was hardly anyone he didn't flirt with, why should Steve be special? Natasha had offered to make Tony stop if it made him uncomfortable, but he assured her it didn't.

"I'm not so damn precious and innocent, Nat. Jesus…" That was the first time she had looked genuinely and openly surprised in front of him. It was the truth, and she hadn't been expecting that. It was a truth that made him shut down one day when Tony's flirting happened to push a button. "I'm going down." He called out to Tony, sitting in the penthouse absentmindedly working on his tablet.

"As long as it's down on me." He froze in front of the elevator and Tony looked up moments later when he failed to register the sound of the lift arriving and leaving. "Steve?" The super soldier trembled on the spot, eyes unblinking and fixated on the floor, while his hands turned to threatening balled up fists. Tony shifted on his chair, uncertain, "Steve?" he called out again and the other whipped towards him.

"Don't…you can't! Can't just-joke about that!" He spat angrily, chest heaving hard, reminiscent of when he used to have terrifying asthma attacks. Tony spoke again and approached him but he tore away to the stairs, not currently possessing the will to wait for the elevator. He had meant to go back to his own apartment, but instead he went further down to the gym. JARVIS confirmed no one was in there at the moment. When he stumbled into the dimly lit room, it sparked to life, illuminating the hard wood floor. Not exactly the most comfortable place, but certainly better than holing up in his apartment where the team would worry individually outside his door. He ordered JARVIS to lie to everyone and report that he was in the apartment, and locked the gym doors.

He moved as though on automatic, barely registering his actions as he picked up a fresh punching bag and hung it up. He wasn't even entirely sure he wrapped his hands before he started to hit the bag mercilessly. Not that it would matter. Whatever he damaged would heal up. He just couldn't let the tears that were pooling in his eyes drop. He just wanted his throat to feel like it wasn't being choked. He wanted to stop feeling like he wasn't getting enough air, despite no longer having asthma. He struck the bag harder and harder again until it tore open and he fell to his knees, letting the sobs roll over his frame and escape him. God, he hadn't thought about it for so long, why did it still have to hurt? The memory hung in the back of his mind, fresh as ever despite the gap of time since it had happened.

It had started out innocent enough. A few times a week, no big deal. But he was 95 pounds of sickly, malnourished stupid that fought like a man three times his size, despite it never working for him. And it didn't take people long to figure that out.

"Just-pay me, damn it!" He launched himself at the larger man and knocked him to the wall. The man let out a sound of air escaping his lungs and Steve hoped to God it was enough. It wasn't. The man decked him, cutting his cheek and flooring him.

"I ain't gonna pay you shit, fairy boy!" Steve scrambled up and swung, just barely grazing the other's chest as he stepped away. He laughed, an ugly guffaw. "Get out of here kid! You ain't getting any cash outta me, not for a shitty blow job!"

"Doesn't look so shitty to me." Another voice spoke and the man was sprawled out on the ground next to Steve, knocked out. Steve's stomach sank. He knew that voice. "Take everything from his wallet. He deserves it." Bucky said without humor or a hint of a smile on his face. His brow knitted itself together and his mouth puckered angrily. Shit, he was pissed.

"Buck-" Steve tried to explain himself but the brunette cut him off.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Steve?" He hissed, glaring at his friend. Steve hoped they were still friends. Steve straightened and arranged his face into an equally steely expression.

"You gonna turn me in then?" His heart was beating heavy in his chest. It took everything he had not to shake from fear of losing his friend. He had neglected to mention any interest in men to Bucky, despite trusting him. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt on the matter, and didn't want to lose him as a friend. Particularly because Steve had been mooning over him for some time. He could have jumped for joy when the other rolled his eyes, letting the anger slip from his face for a moment.

"I don't give a shit who you're sweet on, Steve. We can't take a walk around the block without running into some guys going at it. I'm just not too excited about the idea of my friend selling himself in back allies. Sorry if I'm a little concerned for you. Just what the hell are you doing here?" Steve opened his mouth, "No, don't answer me. I know exactly what you're doing here and I don't like it. Clean yourself up, I can't look at you like this." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Steve with a sigh. He couldn't help feeling embarrassed and his face flushed as he wiped himself clean. The guy hadn't exactly been a…gentleman, and Steve's mouth and neck were spattered with cum.

"I need the money, Buck." He wasn't looking at him anymore, and had chosen to scowl at the wall instead.

"So you go and do this? Steve, I don't give a damn if you're into dames or fellas, but doing this? There are better, less dangerous ways of getting paid. And I'm really damn-" he swallowed, "-pissed that you're blowing guys for cash instead of coming to me for help first." Shit, that sent a pang of guilt through him.

"I can't keep taking money from you, Bucky. I can't keep depending on you like that, I gotta do something." Bucky barked out an angry laugh.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you, damn it! This isn't your first time doing this, is it?" Steve looked away. He couldn't look him in the eye, not now. "Yeah, I didn't think so. How many times has this bullshit happened?" He gestured to the passed out man.

"This is the first." Steve answered a little too quickly.

"No it isn't. Maybe it's only the third or second, I don't know, but this isn't going to be the last if you keep this up. You can't depend on me to rescue you, Steve. I know you wouldn't anyways, but a strong breeze would knock your 90 pound ass over. You can't keep creeps like this off you. What's going to happen if there's someone worse than this guy? Bigger than this guy? I can't always be around the corner to keep 'em off you."

"You don't have to. I'm 95 pounds." Steve gave a crooked smile and looked up at the other man, who snorted.

"Yeah, how could I forget those five whole pounds? That's what, 1/12 your weight?"

"Not really, but nice try." Bucky shrugged, visibly less upset now.

"Eh, math. We ditched it a few too many times." He turned his eyes back to the blonde, eyes full of worry. "You're not letting these creeps fuck you, are you?" He looked like he was going to be sick from the thought of it.

"No, Buck. God." Steve blushed again. "Nothing like that." Bucky nodded absentmindedly, still swimming in apprehension.

"Look, if this is what you want to do, I can't stop you. I could try, but you're an asshole and you would just do it anyways. So I'm just going to ask once; please be safe." Steve's stomach turned in guilt, but he donned a smile to reassure his friend.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Promise." Bucky nodded again and put his arm around Steve's small frame to pull him into a semi-hug.

"I trust you. Now, grab this asshole's cash and we'll walk back to your apartment. I think you're done for the day."

It was only two weeks later when Steve had wished, fuck how he had wished, that he had listened to Bucky and stopped. But, as the brunette had always reminded him, he was a stubborn shit. And this was one of those times where it came back to bite him in the ass.

The whole job had started out normal. The guy had sauntered confidently over to Steve and asked what he was charging. It was a well enough known area that formalities could be excluded, thank goodness. They had gone back into a secluded alley and Steve had taken his money up front (a recommendation from Bucky). He probably should have felt something was wrong when the stranger had convinced him to move into the corner of two buildings, but he had gone a fairly long time without hassles and wasn't worried about anything going wrong.

He was only a few moments into sucking the stranger off when the man had ran his fingers into his hair and held tight. Most didn't let their customers do this, as it was considered to be a more intimate touch. Steve didn't really care. He had no knowledge of what was or wasn't intimate. So long as it got them there, that's all that really mattered. Things only really went south when the man started to talk to him through it.

"Ah, anyone-mmm- anyone ever tell you, you got a fucking gorgeous mouth, kid." This was unusual, Steve knew that much. No one ever talked, and definitely not like this. "Jesus, kid, you-you're-" he panted hard and his legs shook. 'Good, just finish up and get out of here, buddy.' Steve thought. This was getting too strange for his taste. He knew bedroom talk when he heard it. "Christ, can-I just, I need to have you. Here. Can I have you? God, please I need you here." He placed both hands on either side of Steve's head and immediately he pulled away, the man moaning with the loss of sensation.

"Look pal, I don't do that. Maybe you should go somewhere else." If he was going to leave the guy with a painful erection, so be it. He couldn't tolerate this. Steve moved to stand up and the man pushed him back down gruffly.

"I don't think you heard me, I need you. I want to take you here. I'll pay you good." Steve shook his head, angry now.

"And I don't think you heard me. I don't do that." Once again he tried to stand and move away, but the man grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and forced him back to his knees, so that they were surely bruised from sharply hitting the concrete.

"Then I'll take what I want." The man spoke, voice low and threatening. He grabbed Steve roughly by the jaw and forced his mouth open. He pushed himself back into his mouth, driving hard and deep into him now, something Steve wasn't accustomed to. The man hit the back of his mouth roughly and his eyes welled up as he gagged against him. This only seemed to encourage the stranger who then began to thrust harder into his throat, now hurting him. The resistance of his throat was apparently gratifying, as the man was moaning loudly and tossing his head back in pleasure.

In between sighs of pleasure he groaned about how 'lovely' Steve was and how amazing it was to be inside him, despite Steve clawing desperately against him, throwing punches, kicks, anything that might make him let go. After what seemed like ages, the stranger grabbed hold of Steve's hair and shuddered to a hard finish deep in the back of his throat, so that he had no choice but to swallow him down. When his orgasm finally ended, he removed himself from Steve's mouth and patted his cheek endearingly.

"There, that was wonderful wasn't it?" Steve only shook, still on his throbbing knees, throat under too much distress to answer him. Instead he spat angrily to get the sour taste of this creep out of his mouth. The man took him again by the jaw and kissed him roughly, though Steve refused to let his lips part again. Nevertheless, the stranger moaned against his lips and ground his new forming erection against Steve's hip as he pulled them both up to their feet. Steve's head swam in confusion and shock and it wasn't until the man was tugging at his underwear that he finally began yelling. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was yelling, but he was making noise and that was what was important. He knew a fair majority of the gay community around him, and knew they protected their own. Someone, anyone had to hear him. He got a few yells out, despite his aching throat, before the man turned his attention away from his underwear to clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Hush, be good, you'll love this. Just relax and let it happen." He pulled off Steve's underwear and pushed him into the wall. God, this couldn't be happening. Something snapped in him and he bit down on the man's fingers until his teeth met bone and the taste of copper filled his mouth. The man pulled away and Steve took his chance to nail a punch on his temple, crumpling him to the ground long enough to get away. He pulled his clothes back into place and ran as well as he could to Bucky's apartment.

When he arrived at the apartment, he didn't even bother to knock or see if his friend was there. He would be, eventually. That was all he needed. Luckily, Bucky was inside, sleeping on his sofa. He startled awake when Steve slammed the door shut and plodded inside, wheezing.

"Steve? What are you-oh hell." Steve hoped he didn't look as bad as he felt as he leaned over the kitchen sink and voided his stomach's contents. Just cum and bile; lovely. Even puking, he couldn't get that asshole out of his system. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he crumpled into the touch, letting Bucky catch him. "Steve-shit. I don't have anything for your asthma…" His eyes scanned over him in alarm. Steve grabbed hold of his shirt front and squeezed his eyes shut, willing his body to cooperate. Tears flowed freely from his eyes, but he supposed to Bucky they just looked like they were welling from an asthma attack. When he got enough breath, he croaked out,

"I'm s-sorry Buck. You were r-r-right. 'm sorry."