Title: iPodauthor: Merideath
Fandom:
The Avengers (2012),
Thor (Movies)Rating: Mature
Relationships: Darcy Lewis & Steve Rogers
Characters: Steve Rogers, Darcy Lewis
Summary: Darcy leaves her iPod lying around. Again.
........................................
..................................
The days after an assemble always seem to crawl by; meetings, arguments, bones to knit back together, bruises to fade, and torn muscles to heal again. Steve prefers his little Brooklyn apartment to staying at the Tower, but the Tower does have its perks. Endless hot water, a kitchen stocked with more food than he can eat while his body goes about repairing itself, endless entertainment in the form of movies and music, whatever he can ask JARVIS for, and a fancy gym where he hasn’t managed to wreck anything. So far anyway, he still plans on giving it a go when his shoulder stops aching like a sonovabitch.
Shifting his position on the couch, he turns the page of his book and reaches for the bottle of beer on the coffee table. His shoulder protests the movement, and he snarls under his breath.
“Alright there, Captain?” Darcy says as she snatches the bottle off the table, taking a sip before handing it to him and flopping down on the couch beside him. “You got pretty banged up by that Douchebot, not that I know anything about that. I’m just a lab grunt after all.
“Doombot,” he corrects and Darcy rolls her eyes at him.
“Seriously?”
“M’fine, Darcy,” he mutters. Darcy looks dubiously at him and pokes at his shoulder. “Stop it.”
“Sure you’re fine.”
“Is there something I can do for you, Miss Lewis?” he asks, shifting a little further out of her reach and not rubbing his shoulder.
“Oh, touchy are we, Rogers?” Darcy arches a brow at him and delves into her bag for a tablet, a generic one with an obnoxiously bright pink silicone cover. “And the answer is nope. I’m just waiting on Jane to escape Thor and remember Science.” Darcy curls up beside him, reading something he can’t see on the tablet and twisting a lock of hair around her fingers.
It’s not long before Jane comes scurrying down the hall, disheveled and muttering a string of science babble. “See ya around, Steve,” Darcy winks at him. She shoves the tablet back in her bag and chases off after Dr. Foster, curls bouncing and hips swaying. Not that he noticed that. Nope. Not at all.
Steve finishes reading the chapter of his book and gets up off the sofa, suppressing a groan when he jars his arm. Poking out from one of the cushions is the corner of something bright orange, Darcy’s iPod. He picks the iPod up and shoves it into his pocket, making a mental note to text her about it later. No point in leaving it out for Stark to confiscate. Again.
……
After tossing and turning from an aching shoulder and nightmares playing out behind his closed eyes, Steve gives up on sleep. Throwing back the covers, he pads barefoot into his small kitchen and fixes himself a sandwich. Darcy's iPod sits face down on the corner of the counter beside the bowl loose change and keys live in. Taking the last bite of his sandwich, he dusts the crumbs from the counter and sets his plate in the sink. He picks up the iPod and untangles the mess of knots.
Steve swipes his thumb over the screen and music starts playing from the earbuds. It's too loud to his sensitive ears, brash and far too lively for the middle of the night. The music makes him think of Darcy though, when she's in the lab with Jane, or tapping her toes when JARVIS plays something she likes. Turning down the volume and putting the earbuds in, Steve walks back into the bedroom and settles back on the pillows. The screen of the iPod is the only light in the room. He flicks through a few albums, random songs in a playlist that jar against one another, a 'Welcome to Night Vale' podcast, and a serial radio show from the 40s that makes him smile at the bittersweet reminder of his past.
He's half asleep, listening to the Civil Wars, hands resting on his belly, loosely holding the iPod. The song ends and shuffles to the next track. A husky voice, deep and raspy, sends a shiver of heat racing down his spine. That voice. Darcy's voice. There's no album cover, just the title 'Blue' and Darcy's voice in his ears.
…She straddles his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, skirt rucked up over his hands, calloused fingers on pale flesh as his lips trailed kisses over her collarbone….
Goddamn.
........
“You are a freaking life saver, Steve,” Darcy grins, grabbing the iPod out of his hands and whirling around in her chair to place it in the dock.
“Not a problem, I just didn’t want Tony to turn it into a robot or something,” Steve says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well I better g...oh...”
...He presses a kiss to each trembling thigh, fingers delving into...
“Oh my god,” Darcy says, cheeks flushed as pink as the blush creeping up his next. She rolls her chair back to the dock, yanking the iPod out with more force than strictly necessary. Shit.
“I uh...I’ll go,” Steve mumbles, turning on his heel.
Oh no you don’t,” Darcy says, hooking her fingers in one of his belt loops. “Have fun listening to my podfic, Steven?”
“I..,” Steve’s voice trails off as he turns to face her. He has no way to reply to that. He can’t say that listening to her husky voice on the iPod had him slipping his hand into his sweats imagining it was them in the story, his hands and mouth on her skin. Darcy lets go of his belt loop and he takes a small half step back. “Yes,” he confesses voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, I did.”
“Oh,” Darcy says, head tilting to the side as her eyes flick over him. “Oh,” she repeats, the soft blush on her cheeks darkening, a slow smirk curving her lips. “You know if you wanted, you could call me tonight.”
“Call you?” Steve says, swallowing hard.
“You like fairy tales right, Cap?”
“I...yes?”
“Mhmm, call me and I’ll read you a bedtime story,” Darcy says, voice low and seductive, though the color doesn’t fade from her cheeks. Steve opens and closes his mouth like a damn fish gasping for air.
“I...yeah,” Steve says, wondering if it would be better if he swallowed his own damn tongue than stutter like a fool. “I’ll call you tonight, Darcy,” he says, firmly – using just the edge of the Captain America persona to lend strength to his voice. Darcy’s eyes widen, teeth dragging over her bottom lip a moment before she blows him a kiss across the small space between them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
