Someone had eaten all of the double chocolate chunk cookies. That someone, Darcy Lewis decided, was going to pay. How was she supposed to enjoy her afternoon double shot latte with extra foam (damned if she would ever tell Stark she loved his coffee machine) without cookies?! Besides, she had a scientist to feed and water and a couple of weird hocus pocus magicky people to…come to think of it, she wasn't sure Vision even ate food.
Either way, there were no cookies because Moira was out of town at some stupid Science! conference and Darcy's culinary skills consisted of ramen, mac 'n' cheese, and ordering takeout. Oh, and pop tarts. "Fuck," she muttered dejectedly, tipping her hand into her palm and staring morosely at her Batman mug.
"Sure, but only if you'll respect me in the morning." Sam Wilson smiled winningly at Darcy as he swung into the communal living room, his voice overly cheerful and, she decided with a sneer, grating. So maybe he made the basketball shorts and tank top look damn good with his slender, muscular shoulders and gorgeous skin and long legs and maybe she'd had a couple of fantasies where he was a sexy, sweaty mess in her bed, but he was here and cookies were not, so there.
"Shut up and go away if you don't have baked goods," Darcy grumped. There was the sound of rustling paper, the shuffling of feet, and then a perfect chocolate éclair dripping in frosting was placed delicately before her, exactly centered on a pristine white napkin. Sam's breath was warm on her lips and smelled of mint when she whipped her head around to stare at him. "Who…what…chocolate…you?!"
"Smooth, Darce," he teased and flicked the end of her nose with his finger. "Tash texted me, said someone had eaten all your cookies. We all know how you get without your afternoon chocolate fix."
She narrowed her eyes at his handsome, sincere, innocent, open face. "Did you eat my cookies and this is how you say you're sorry?"
Sam shook his head, dark eyes going as wide as Darcy leaned in, one finger poking him in the chest. She smelled, he realized with a little tug of lust in his gut, like coffee and cinnamon and powdered sugar. She was saying something but all he could hear through the sudden roaring in his ears was the nursery rhyme: sugar and spice and everything nice. "You smell amazing," he said and before either of them quite knew what exactly was happening, Sam had hauled her half out of the high bar stool she was sitting in and into his arms, his mouth slanting over hers.
Now, Darcy liked kissing. She really, really liked kissing. In fact, she had a scale on which she rated kisses, from 0 (where you'd rather throw up than kiss this person again, stop with the grabby hands, mister!) to 10 (holy shit balls of flaming underpants I just had an orgasm from your tongue). Mostly, Darcy lived in the 5-7 zone quite happily. Sam, it turned out, hit the top of the scale and while she didn't exactly have an orgasm while his tongue delved into her mouth and licked, she was pretty sure she was the one with the grabby hands on his firm ass.
When he tried to move away she followed him, winding herself around him like an octopus and shaking her head. "No. No, no, no, no leaving. More of the kissing."
Pretty sure his head was about to explode as Darcy suckled at his lower lip, Sam groaned and let his hands skim up her sides until they hovered under the curves of her breasts. And, he had to admit, she had fantastic breasts. Perfectly sized to be a little more than a handful, porcelain and round in the scoop neck of the Snoopy t-shirt she was wearing, and oh fuck if she squeezed his ass one more time, they were going to have sex right here where anyone could walk right in and have themselves a show.
"We should…" Darcy nipped his upper lip, lapped at it, then purred when his hands closed over her breasts and exerted the perfect amount of pressure, not too hard, not too soft, and oh sweet hell in January please!
"Yes," he agreed hazily, though he really had no idea what she'd said, only that if he stopped touching her he might just melt into a puddle on the floor. Or cry.
The clearing of a throat had them turning, Darcy's arms and legs still wrapped firmly around Sam, his hands captured between them over her breasts. Vision regarded them blankly for a moment. When he spoke, Darcy muttered that it was still weird to hear JARVIS and had Sam nodding absently. "Is this appropriate behavior in a public venue?"
Darcy had no answer. She was saved from giving an answer when the perimeter alarm went off. Sam cursed with an inventiveness that impressed Darcy and was gone with a firm, "We'll finish this later, Darcy Lewis." Vision followed him out.
Darcy ate her éclair and wondered how soon was too soon to ask a man to let you lick chocolate out of his belly button.
OoO
OoO
"He could…like, itty bitty?" Darcy made a gesture with her fingers which had Sam groaning and covering his face. The med tech rolled her eyes and finished tapping information into her Starkpad.
"You're all good, Falcon. OTC meds for pain and maybe take it easy today."
"Thanks," he grumbled, sliding off the cold table in the med bay with a wince. He appreciated it when Darcy slid her arm around his waist, even more when the angle gave him a perfect view down at the breasts he'd only briefly been allowed to fondle earlier. She seemed aware and approving of his scrutiny for she snuggled closer against his side which pressed her breasts together, deepening the already deep V between them.
"So you were totally taken by a bug," Darcy teased. "Isn't that, like, backwards?"
Sam grunted and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand as they stepped into the elevator. "Just please don't tell Cap."
Darcy leaned back against the wall and turned a little so he had to either hover over her, his chest pressed to hers, or step back. Ever obliging of a beautiful woman, Sam leaned in and nuzzled her neck. She purred and turned her head, tugging lightly at the lobe of his ear with her teeth. Her voice was like velvet when she whispered, "Whatcha gonna give me, Sam, not to tell Mr. Red, White, and Blue?"
He slid his hand down the outside of her thigh, enjoying the smooth denim under his fingers, and lifted until her leg was hooked around his waist. The little sound she made was somewhere between a gasp and a greedy moan as he rolled his hips into hers. "Whatcha want, Darce?"
"Fuuuuck." Her head thunked lightly against the steel of the elevator as his mouth slid wetly down her throat, biting and licking, and his hands kneaded her ass. His chuckle vibrated through her chest, tightening her nipples into aching points.
"If you insist."
It was much later, after FRIDAY agreed to wipe the audio and video from the elevator and they stumbled to Darcy's car and then into Darcy's apartment and then onto Darcy's couch and then into Darcy's bed, that Darcy propped her chin on her hand and regarded the sweaty mess that was Sam Wilson in her bed with imminent satisfaction and some measure of smugness. "So, tomorrow. You, me, chocolate syrup. Licking. All over."
Sam's chuckle was darkly pleased, his kiss sweet. "Only if you buy me dinner first."
She bought him dinner. He bought the syrup.
They didn't come out of her apartment for two days.