Darcy's eyes linger.
Bucky supposes she thinks she's being slick, but he can feel her eyes on him whenever they're in the same room. It doesn't happen often because he tries to keep to himself but he can't avoid people completely.
He grabs a lot of convenience food from the kitchens before retreating to his apartment. He doesn't like cooking. He watches a lot of movies and TV shows with bags of popcorn, pretzels and candy.
He sees Darcy when she's getting coffee at two in the morning. She seems wide awake, but he suspects it's not insomnia that keeps her up. She works in the labs with Banner and Thor's girlfriend Jane.
He eyes travel over him and Bucky thinks about the last time he showered. It wasn't that long ago, so he can't be stinking up the place.
"Hey," she says easily, like Bucky isn't who he is, and he blinks at her.
"Hi," he replies, shoving a packet of potato chips into the pocket of his hoodie. He avoids her eyes. He doesn't like eye contact.
"Big night?"
She smiles at him, joking. She's making a joke and Bucky nods.
"I can't sleep," he mumbles, and her face changes.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
She doesn't need to hear about that. He needs to think of something nicer to say in case this happens again. He leaves abruptly, hackles raised as he makes his way back to the elevator.
She follows him and he thinks about taking the stairs, but she'd definitely notice.
"Have you tried yoga?" she asks, and he glances at her feet.
He noticed before that she's not wearing shoes, just rainbow socks. He talks to her feet instead of her face.
"That doesn't work."
"I'm being a dick, I know yoga doesn't work," Darcy says, chuckling. "What about Seconals? Or a really stiff drink?"
Bucky feels something loosen in his chest. His lips tweak for a second.
"Or are you like Steve and you metabolize everything too fast?" Darcy adds, and Bucky finally looks up at her.
She has a gap in her front teeth. She's pretty. In an understated sort of way, like she could fade into the background easily. Except now that he's seen her up close he doesn't want to look away.
"Yeah," he grunts, and Darcy nods.
"The food bill for you guys must be insane," she says. She points to his hoodie pocket that's bulging with snacks. "What you got? Twinkies?"
"Little Debbie snacks," he replies. "And chips."
"Salty and sweet, nice," she says.
How is she so relaxed? Doesn't she know who he is? Or what he's done?
He just nods at her, and the elevator finally arrives. The doors open and he steps inside. She follows, her hand hovering on the keypad.
"I'm on 12th."
"Cool, that's where I'm heading," Darcy says, pressing the floor number and stepping back, eyes bright.
He stares at her. "Why -?"
"You going to bed?"
"I'll probably watch a movie," he says, and feels himself blush inexplicably. He doesn't know where this is going.
"Good," she replies, shrugging. "Jane'll be up for another few hours, and if she's desperate FRIDAY will ask for me."
He doesn't say anything else, not until they reach his floor and he takes out his key card. He pushes the door open with his shoulder and Darcy saunters in beside him.
"Unless you want me to leave?" she asks, and Bucky stares right at her, eyes a little wider.
"I –"
"Because I can go, if you want to be alone."
He always wanted to be alone. It made things easier. He saw how employees would stop talking when he entered a room sometimes. He saw people whisper. He knew when people were trying to cover up their fear, their judgement.
He gapes a little. She's so direct and fearless. He could snap her neck in a second if he was triggered. He knows it won't happen, but he thinks about it anyway.
"I'll go," she says, and he holds up his metal hand.
He forgot he wasn't wearing his glove and he regrets the movement, because it's jarring to his ears. Darcy doesn't seem bothered in the slightest.
"I can stay," she says, her voice softer. She's less playful, her eyes darting to his metal fingers and then his face.
"Okay," he mutters, hand going down.
She walks over to his couch and flips on the TV. She pulls up her feet and props her elbow up on the arm of the couch, flipping through channels.
"Which movie, dude?"
Bucky blinks, still standing near the front door, trying to process everything. He clears his throat and walks over, sitting the furthest he can away from her on his couch.
His couch is lumpy and too small. He didn't realize it was so small until they were both sitting on it, but he got it from off the street. Some asshole was just going to throw away a perfectly good couch, and that kind of wastefulness still rubbed Bucky the wrong way.
"I thought maybe something kind of new," he mumbled. He has a list somewhere but can't quite handle the idea of sharing that with her. She could tease. She was probably born eighty years after him, give or take.
He was a hundred and this girl was like a quarter of his age. That still blew his mind. He glances at her rainbow feet while she considers the files on the external hard drive.
"What are you in the mood for? What's a no-no?" she asks, and Bucky blinks.
"I'm okay with… most things."
"But like, no war movies, right?" Darcy says. It's so easy, like he doesn't have to explain.
"Yeah," he says, head ducking.
She picks something called Jawbreaker and he watches with a vague interest for several scenes before he sighs quietly and Darcy turns her head toward him.
"You hate it," she says, and she's smiling.
"It's not good," he replies.
She laughs. "But it's so bad it's good. And Rose McGowan is so hot."
She points out the sadistic brunette and Bucky looks her over, nodding a little because Darcy is watching him.
"She's very pretty."
They watch in silence, and once the movie's over Darcy turns off the TV.
"With the exception of that one, I have a pretty good taste in movies," she says, leaning a little too close.
Bucky feels himself tense and Darcy pulls back, feet on the floor.
"I'll make you a list," she says. "Essential viewings for the 21st century."
"I already have one of those," Bucky replies, before he can stop himself.
Her face instantly brightens.
"Well, good. We'll work on that list together," she says. She holds up a hand. "Where is it?"
Bucky nods at the coffee table and she goes to the little drawer. Bucky pulls out a tiny zebra cake from his hoodie pocket and begins to unwrap it as Darcy studies his list.
"You have terrible penmanship," she mutters. "But I've seen worse."
He bites into the cake and chews quietly. Darcy taps the paper.
"Cool. I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Bucky chokes on his food a little. "What?"
"Tomorrow, unless you have somewhere else to be," Darcy says. She stands up from the couch, looking around his bare apartment walls. "Or if you have a different female visitor."
She could try to be more subtle. Bucky shakes his head, eyes ducking to the floor.
"No, just me."
"You can tell me to fuck off, too, Bucky," she says.
He glances at her, surprised. She hadn't said his name aloud before.
"I don't – you can stay," he mutters. He really hates the sound of his own voice. It's embarrassing that he just talks the way he does, sounding so lifeless. "I wouldn't tell you to – to fuck off."
Darcy laughs. "Are you offended?"
Bucky lets out a short laugh that surprises him. "I… grew up in Brooklyn, doll. And I was in the Army. Not a lot offends me."
She smiles at him, her face different. She's still standing while he sits on the couch. He flicks a crumb onto the floor.
"Do you call a lot of girls that?"
"What?"
"'Doll'," she murmurs.
He shakes his head. "It's like… slang."
"Yeah, I got that," Darcy replies. "Just wondering."
Bucky meets her gaze, shaking his head again. "No. I… don't know."
Darcy shrugs, her mind elsewhere. She flashes one last smile.
"I'll let myself out, Sarge."
She walks off, and Bucky's eyes travel to her rear end almost instantly. He stares while she moves toward his front door and she opens it.
She looks over her shoulder at the last second and Bucky's eyes snap up to her face but he knows he's caught.
He swallows as she leaves, the door shutting behind her.
Two nights go by without incident, and then he hears a knock after midnight while he's sharpening a knife at the kitchen table.
He walks over to the front door, at the last minute remembering to pull on a shirt and he opens the door.
She walks in without greeting him, and he stares at her ass again, but he's quicker to pretend he wasn't looking when her eyes meet his.
"Whatcha doin'?"
She's adorable. It's insane that he hadn't noticed it before that moment.
How does she not have a stream of men waiting on her at any given moment? He blinks at her, shaking his head.
"Nothing."
"Cool, let's watch Star Wars," she says.
She's carrying a can of soda and cracks it open, walking over to the couch and sitting down. Bucky follows her, not sure what to do with his hands.
She doesn't seem to care. They lapse into silence while the movie plays, and Bucky feels transported. He thinks about being in space, traveling to places like Tatooine.
He should travel. He should leave the Tower every once in a while. The second he thinks of the logistics of that, having to book a flight and get a passport and be on a tiny tin can in the air for hours – he passes a hand over his face and sighs.
Darcy looks at him.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he says, because he can't get into that. He can't tell her he's a mess. She seems content enough just sitting there.
"You sure?"
His eyes swivel to hers.
"Why?"
She blinks. "What?"
"Why do you care?"
"I'm… human, aren't I?" Darcy says, "At least the last time I checked, I was."
He's an asshole. He feels his face flush.
"Sorry. I just get grumpy," he mutters. "It's stupid."
"I can leave."
"Don't," he practically snaps. "I don't want that."
The rest of the movie feels awkward, because all he's thinking about is her being his hostage. His eyes dart to her bare foot resting next to his, and he thinks about nudging her, just to feel her skin.
He didn't realize he was this pathetic, not with women. He thinks of how Natasha flips her hair and he can catch her scent and he wants to groan at how disgusting he is.
He needs to make her leave. She'll find out everything.
The movie ends and Darcy turns to him.
"So… what do you think?"
"It's good," he replies. He's avoiding her gaze.
"Same time tomorrow night?"
If he scares her enough she might leave and never come back. It would be better to watch these movies alone, to not have her be a variable in the room he can't control.
"Or not," she adds.
He swallows hard, because her foot suddenly bumps his leg as she moves it up to sit with her legs crossed.
"I'm – I'm a virgin," he blurts.
His face is burning. He glances at her hands, which seem the opposite of his – smooth and small. His are calloused and big, rough and brutish.
He's telling her this to get himself off the hook, to stop her waiting for him to make a move. He used to, way, way back. He hardly remembers that time, when he'd take girls to places with the little money he had.
He kissed them plenty, and occasionally hands would be laid on intimate parts, but he'd never –
"You've never had sex?" Darcy asks.
She sounds shocked. He finally looks at her face, her mouth first before he reaches her eyes.
"No," he murmurs.
He wants to tell her – I see you looking, but he doesn't know how. He swallows, cracking a knuckle out of nervous habit as Darcy just stares and stares at him like he's grown a second head.
"Is Steve a v-?"
"No," he replies.
"Okay," she breathes, and she takes a second to understand the story. "So all those history books about you and your rotation of w-?"
"I get the feeling that people said that about me because they thought I was dead," Bucky interjects.
He could picture surviving Howling Commandos bragging because he did date a lot of women, but no dame had gone that far with him. He knew that existed, he wasn't some naïve idiot, but he was always waiting for the right time.
He ended up falling from that train in Europe as a virgin. He could have died a virgin, and in a way, he had.
"People just assumed."
Darcy stares. "And then you came back, but no -?"
"Have you seen me, Darcy?" he says, a little too sharp. "When would I grow the balls to do something like that, after the fact?"
"Then why are you telling me?"
He knew why. It was so she wasn't disappointed. He needed to nip this in the bud. He was just glad that she hadn't laughed in his face.
"I dunno," he mumbles.
They fall silent, and Darcy bites her lip, thinking.
He thinks about asking her to leave, but then she turns toward him, her hand reaching for his flesh one in his lap.
He startles easily, and she forgets that, drawing her hand back immediately.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine, I'm sorry," he mutters.
"Are you just supposed to stay a virgin?" she blurts. "Like, how is that fair?"
"It's not about what's fair. I can't – I dunno," he mutters.
Her hand hovers, never settling.
"Does it – does everything still… work?" she asks slowly, and Bucky feels himself flush once more.
"I guess so."
He got hard when he stared at her ass the other night. He didn't touch himself until the next morning when he woke with a nagging hard-on. He felt immediate disgust the second he came into a tissue.
"Then…" Darcy bites her lip once more. "I could help."
His heart begins to hammer. Darcy's hand comes down to rest on his leg and he bites his own lip, her hand moving further up.
"Tell me to stop," she murmurs. "In case this is triggering, or just me being a pervert –"
"I'm not triggered," he whispers.
He feels like he's burning up from her touch. He sucks in a breath.
"I wasn't raped in captivity."
"Okay," she murmurs. "But is this okay, me touching you?"
"Yes," he whispers.
Her hand is close to his crotch now. He swallows, before turning himself toward her. He moves before he can think about it too much and he kisses her. He doesn't close his eyes until Darcy deepens the kiss, plying his mouth open with her tongue while her hand stays on his upper thigh.
"Darcy," he whispers, and she pulls back, searching his face.
"I'll go slow."
"Can I…?"
He's distracted when she kisses his jaw, then nips at his neck. She sucks at his pulse point and he moans.
"Fuck, can I make you come first?" he gasps, and Darcy's hands go to tug at his hair, before she works her way back up to his mouth.
"Do you have any idea how hot that is that you offered without me asking?" she whispers, and he shakes his head.
"I like to," he murmurs, and she groans a little.
Her skin is so soft as he makes his way down her front, lifting her shirt to kiss her stomach. She helps him pull down her leggings and underwear and he can smell her musk in the air the second her cunt is exposed.
He rubs his nose in the thatch of hair between her legs and Darcy hisses a little, hand going to the back of his head. Her chest is heaving by the time he finally licks along her slit.
Every girl tastes a little different, but they have the same musky, almost salty base to them. Bucky works his tongue inside her while her thighs begin to shake. She hardly knows him and he's somehow managed to convince her to let him fuck her with his tongue.
"How long since you've done this?" she gasps, and he lets out a laugh against her skin.
"Like, seventy years."
"Bullshit," she hisses. He sucks on her clit and she dissolves into a moan.
When she comes, she grabs at him to shove up against her cunt and she cries out. She's practically vibrating off the couch and Bucky finally pulls back, seeing a drop of her trickle down among the dusty rose of her pussy lips and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
She's still recovering, her chest heaving. Then she's suddenly pulling him toward her, and they share a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue.
He whimpers against her mouth and she climbs on top of him, her hands reaching for his sweatpants.
"Are you sure?" he whispers.
She nods. "Are you? We can stop."
"No, I want.. I want you," he whispers, and he moans when she grabs him by the shaft of his cock, pumping him a few times.
There's precome on the tip of him and she rubs her thumb through it. He's close to writhing beneath her. His nerves are suddenly so awake and he's pliant in her grip.
She sinks onto his cock and he whimpers again, feeling himself flush.
"That's so sexy," she murmurs, watching his reactions as she circles her hips. "I love all the sounds you're making."
She feels like a silky, warm glove. A perfect fit, and so much tighter than he could have ever predicted. His eyes flutter shut and he's lost in her. She pulls him into another smothering kiss as she begins to ride him.
"Fuck," he hisses, pulling his mouth away from her. "I'm gonna come."
"I was hoping."
He locks eyes with her and she's relentless, working him over and over, her little hands on his chest as she bounces.
He can hear the way they sound where they're joined together. She's wet and warm and –
"Oh, God."
He comes, his grip enough to bruise her thighs, and for a second he thinks he's passed out. He feels the white hot bolt of pleasure right through him, all the way to his tingling toes.
He pants, and Darcy just smiles, kissing his sweaty face.
He captures her in another kiss, wondering how long he'll have to wait to do that all again.