Darcy/Steve 6
“What are we doing?” Steve was lying on his back, one hand up behind his head, the other around Darcy as she lay beside him, her head pillowed on his chest.
“Lying in my bed? And we just had some pretty fantastic sex?” Like, she was probably going to be sore tomorrow- that slow burn that meant muscles had been pushed to their limit. Because Steve? Steve had stamina for days.
His hand squeezed over her arm. “No, I mean… What are we doing?”
Oh. Oh. This talk. Well… They’d been having friend-sex for a couple of months, and both seemed to, you know, really enjoy it. “What do you want to be doing?” That seemed like a fair question- and also a complete cop-out of giving an actual answer.
“I’d like to take you out.” He was fully staring at the ceiling as he said that, and Darcy had to bite back a sharp comment about the ceiling not being able to leave.
“Like… Hopefully as a date and not as a contract killing?
He turned his head, and she could practically feel him staring at her. “Dinner. Picture, maybe.”
She’d known that this was probably coming at some point, because Steve… Steve was still an old-fashioned kinda guy at heart. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, but are you ready to hear people talking all kinds of shit about me?”
“They wouldn’t.” The answer came immediately.
“Uh, yeah. America runs on misogyny. I’ll be corrupting you, distracting you, all kinds of things.” And because he was an old-fashioned kinda guy, slights against her hurt him more than slights against himself. “You have America in your superhero name, people think they own you.”
He squeezed her shoulder again, shifting down to kiss the top of her head. “Then I just won’t listen.”
Darcy sighed again, unconvinced. But she nodded. The last thing they needed was for Captain America to get in a fight with someone because they called her a shield-chasing whore.