Steve stood against the side of the building, his hands were freezing. He felt like his lungs were going to explode. He hated winter but what he hated most was his body. His body that hated him more than anything or anyone ever could. He heard a groan. His body was starting to calm and he stumbled to the noise. His apartment was only a few buildings down.

He cursed again. He couldn't make it to his own apartment without stopping. He stumbled the last few feet down the alley. Someone was curled up on the ground. Steve dropped taking in the clothes of the person. The material of the clothes told him this was no vagrant. He rolled the person over and saw the blood. It was flowing from the fallen man's arm, above the cut the man was covered in some kind of green goo. Blood was flowing out quickly.

Steve took off his belt and strapped it around the wound. The blood stopped but he knew the man would be dead soon if he didn't get him inside. Steve sat a few seconds willing his body to cooperate and moved to pick the man up. He sighed when he realized how little the man weighed.

He looked again maybe it was a woman. It was too dark to see. He was too scared to wait and used the adrenaline to pull the man inside. It took him twenty minutes to walk down the building and up the stairs to his door.

He was so mad a Bucky. He would have to pick tonight to have a date. He unlocked his door and went back for his bundle. He dragged him inside and shut the door. It was freezing in here. The boiler for the complex had been out all winter. He felt his lungs trying to seize up again. He was out of meds. He just needed to focus calm his breathing. One thing at a time.

He moved to the kitchen to the first aid kit they always kept. He'd sown up enough wounds him and Bucky were almost nurses. He moved back to the man and began to peel away his clothes. He peeled the dress thing off the man. He dumped it beside him and looked at his black pants and white shirt and tie, so small man then.

He pulled out the bottle of alcohol. Bucky would forgive him and dumped it on the man's arm. He groaned but didn't wake. He sowed up the cut and released the belt. Blood didn't start pouring again and he spread iodine over the cut to prevent infections. His breath hitched and he fell back. His chest was shaking his body arching trying to get in air. He closed his eyes he didn't think he would ride this one out.

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Harry began to groan. His body was shaking and his entire arm was on fire. He forced himself to sit up and the cold, fuck had he ever been this cold. He automatically started shivering. He opened his eyes and what he saw confused the hell out of him.

A man was arched beside him his hands flexing eyes closed, wheezing like his life depended on it. Harry didn't think. He whipped out his trunk and charmed it to its size and started digging. He had a few potions but knew they hardly worked on muggles. It had to be enough.

He found one for wizard's flu. He prayed to Merlin as he jerked the man off the floor and pushed the potion down his mouth. He held a hand over his mouth and massaged his throat. The wheezing stopped some. Tears were rolling down his face. It was so cold. Harry could barely breathe.

He ripped the man's shirt off and his own then found several blankets in the bedroom. He ran back sitting on the couch wrapping one blanket around him then drug the man up. He was surprised to find someone smaller than him. He pushed him between his legs, his back to his chest and swung the other blanket over his body on the man cocooning them in. They were both so cold he flinched when their skin touched. The man was panicking.

"I won't hurt you. We will freeze if I don't do this. Please trust me."

The man collapsed against his chest. Harry moved and began rubbing the chest under his fingers. He could feel the wet cough and rasped breaths. He began to pull magic from himself and pour it into the man. He refused to see anyone else die. The man arched like a cat and his chest shuddered.

"Hold on. Fucking please don't die. Hold on." Harry repeated over and over and pushed magic into him.

He only began to stop when he felt the man begin to calm. Harry was so tired. His eyes were closing. He passed out his hands rubbing the man beneath him.

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Steve was warm. It was the first time he'd felt warm in months. He took a slow easy breath and felt his lungs open easily and not without the wet cough he'd had for weeks. He felt hands on his chest but didn't think about it. Bucky must be home and trying to get body heat. It was actually working. He didn't' want to get out of bed and this warmth for anything.

He closed his eyes again and they popped open as the memories flooded him. The man in the alley, dragging him home and the asthma attack he didn't think he'd make it through. The realization the hands around him were not Bucky's. He listened to the breathing and knew the man was asleep.

He vaguely remembered the man stripping him making him drink something and rubbing his chest as he thought he would die in his arms. The feelings going through him when it was happening was pleasurable and painful. His mind was going a mile a minute. How could something feel like that from someone of the same sex?

He was so confused. Was he attracted to men? Why was he even thinking about this? The man made a small whimper in his sleep. It made Steve flinch.

Steve moved dropping the cover some and regretted it instantly. It was so cold. The man automatically began to shake. Steve threw the blanket back over them and began to fret. He felt vulnerable and he was exhausted. He wondered briefly about Bucky. He had no idea what time it was. It was the middle of winter. It was around seven and completely dark when he'd walked home.

He still didn't have any light in the apartment. He wished Bucky was here. The hands started moving over his chest again. Steve was too scared to move his body wanting the touch while his mind ran a mile a second. He heard the man's voice so low that he had to listen for several minutes.

"Don't die." He repeated it over and over for several minutes.

Steve leaned back curling against his warmth and fell back in exhausted sleep.

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Bucky was getting more bored by the second. The smile plastered on his face was starting to make his face hurt. The dame, Samantha, was telling him about her perfect idea of marriage. He was fighting the urge to run and was on his third beer now. The only thing that kept him in his seat was every time he really got the look in his eyes to leave she would pop another button on her blouse or raise her skirt a little higher. But the boredom was winning, and she seemed like the trap kind of dame that would demand engagement. He wasn't having it.

"I should be headed home. Let me walk you home."

She smiled batting her eyelashes like a big cow. He wanted to sigh but this night was so not worth it. He'd had a nagging feeling in his stomach all night. As soon as he walked outside and felt the wet cold he was panicking. Steve was at home alone and he'd been trying to hide from him this morning. He was the worst best friend ever.

Bucky moved, almost dragging the girl home. He tipped his hat to her. She huffed and yelled at him. He ignored her and ran. He made it home after fifteen minutes of running.

He stopped at the door and let his breathing calm and listened. He heard nothing and there were no lights on. A bad feeling snuck into him, crept in more and more as they grew older. What if he walked in and his friend was dead? He knew he would pick up a knife and slit his own throat and join him.

He wanted to go to the front lines as much as Steve but he was terrified to leave him. If he died here while Bucky was in Europe he would never forgive himself. He crept in the door and lit a match stumbling to the light. He flipped it on and looked at the room with his mouth falling open.

Did Steve have someone over for the night? He walked to the lump of blankets on the couch. He looked inside and didn't know whether to laugh or be utterly too shocked and pass out.

Steve was bare-chested in the arms of another man in bandages, both of them completely passed out. The apartment was so cold. Bucky went through the house pulling out all the extra blankets. He walked back to the couch and pulled Steve off the man. The man almost didn't let go but it looked like the exhaustion was too much and he whimpered and fell back. He placed Steve in the middle of the bed and went back for the man.

He picked him up bridal style. The man buried his face in Bucky's neck. Bucky froze as the man arched to the touch. "Smell."

Bucky looked affronted. "I don't smell."

"Umm… yes sexy."

Bucky froze when he sniffed again then his body gave out and he became like a noodle in his arm. After a second, he snickered. He couldn't wait to hear this story.

He took him to their room and slid him in bed with Steve. He moved to the other side of the bed piled it with all of their blankets. He stripped to his undershirt and boxers then climbed under the covers with them.

He listened in the dark to Steve's breathing and it was the calmest it had been in months. He grinned. He should have come home sooner. He closed his eyes hid under the covers and listened to Steve breathing calmly and fell asleep.