Work Text:
“Oh fuck me,” Darcy groaned, rubbing the heels of her palms into her eyes, desperate to relieve the pressure of her brain currently trying to pound its way through her skull.
She made a mental note to never accept an invite to an Avengers party and to definitely never accept any drinks made by an Asgardian ever again. She was just thankful that she had apparently made it back to her bed, as she did not need the embarrassment of having passed out on Tony Stark’s couch. She muttered a curse when something wrapped around her finger jabbed her eyebrow.
Squinting she inspected her hand and her heart leapt into her throat. “What the fuck happened last night?” She realized that she wasn’t in her room. And that the shirt she was wearing wasn’t hers. And she wasn’t alone.
Darcy could have sworn her eyes almost literally popped out of her eye sockets when she saw the embodiment of male, purity, and the American dream . . . and seriously long eyelashes . . . passed out on the bed next to her, blankets pushed down around his hips showing off his gloriously bare chest. He had one arm buried under her pillow, the other tossed over his eyes.
“Amber waves of abs . . . “
Steve, whom she had thought asleep, snorted.
Darcy’s felt her face flush but decided to just face it like she faced her ever stranger life. “Seriously dude,” she poked his bicep, “I feel like I should be pledging my allegiance or something.”
That earned her a deep chuckle, which caused her lady parts to want to pledge their allegiance too.
“So, uh, do you know why I’m in your bed?”
“We’re engaged,” Steve explained dryly, still covering his face.
She poked him harder, ignoring the ring on her finger. “Care to elaborate, El Capitan?”
He finally pulled his arm away from his face, smirking up at her as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Well, you see you were very drunk last night. We all were, whatever Thor brought is apparently stronger than any super serum.”
She crossed her arms with a huff, feeling satisfied when Steve’s eyes darted towards her ample chest. He looked back to her face with a smug grin, unashamed. She rolled her eyes.
“Still waiting, dude.”
“Well, trying to wrestle you to your apartment farther down the tower was more difficult than carrying you here. But . . .”
“But?”
“Well, you took exception to the idea of sleeping in my bed without ‘being at least engaged as to preserve the sanctity of a national icon.’ “
Darcy buried her face in her hands, groaning. “Why didn’t you just put me on the couch?”
She didn’t see Steve’s taken aback look, “My mother would roll in her grave if I made a lady sleep on my couch. Anyways, Tony heard your declaration and produced a ring out of nowhere. Seriously, I don’t even remember him grabbing it.”
She peeked through her fingers. “And why am I wearing your shirt? We didn’t . . . “ she started making awkward gestures which caused Steve to look at her with confusion before making the connection.
“No, don’t worry, we didn’t have sex.”
“Oh, thank fuck for that.”
Steve cocked an eyebrow, and Darcy sputtered all over again. “I mean, not that I wouldn’t want to. It’s just if it happens, which I know it won’t obviously, I’d like to actually remember it. So, your shirt?” She finished lamely.
“Well, you refused to sleep in your dress and declared that since we were engaged, you get full access to my clothes. And that I wasn’t allowed to sleep with a shirt on.”
Darcy threw herself back onto the bed. “I need you to loan me your shield so I can bash my skull in and die.”
She squeaked when Steve was suddenly on top of her, resting on his elbows and somehow fitted between her legs. Her lady parts began their pledge of allegiance again but she clamped down on that train of thought quickly.
“You'd really leave me as the heartbroken fiancé?” Steve’s eyes were crinkled with humor. “I can see it now, the news going crazy. Captain America: Virgin Widower.”
Darcy laughed, tossing her head back against the pillow. “Captain America: Purity Ensured.” She poked him in his very well defined chest. “So tell me, Steve. Would the Captain be a virgin widower?”
Steve smirked, lowering his face closer to hers. Darcy held her breath as she watched him look at her lips and then back to her eyes. “Well, the Captain has never had sex--the uniform is a bit obvious in the dating scene. But Steve, on the other hand . . .”
“Yeah?” Darcy breathed out.
“Steve doesn’t kiss and tell.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “Not even to his fiancé?”
“I’d prefer to show her if I were being honest.”
“Oh.” Darcy blushed, heat pooling low in her belly at the intensity of his gaze. “I’d be okay with a demonstration.”
Later, while Steve was kissing his way down her body—her fingers in his hair, she giggled as a thought popped into her head. “Do you think we should walk down the aisle after the ceremony to the national anthem?”