"Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there staring at me?"
Steve grins at Darcy's words, having rarely been so pleased that she's standing with her back to him and hence can't see his face. Which brings up a question of his own. "How did you know I was here?"
"I always know where you are, Steve. I am psychically attuned to identify your presence." He doesn't have to see her face to know that she's rolling her eyes. She glances at him over her shoulder and there's the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. "Plus you've just taken a shower and applied fresh cologne and I could smell it from the other end of the corridor."
Steve chuckles. "And you said you didn't have superpowers."
Darcy turns to face him, braces her hands on the counter behind her and groans. "I'd rather be without this particular one," she says. "It's not so bad with your cologne, which I like, by the way..." He's figured as much because he's standing in front of her now and her eyes are roving over his body, a look in her eyes that's almost predatory. "But Thor was eating some Asgardian delicacy earlier on... I almost didn't make it to the bathroom."
"You want me to talk to him? Steve knows he's frowning but Darcy just chuckles, reaches up to push at his forehead. The first time she'd done that, she'd had to explain that she was trying to smooth the frown away; it's been a thing between them ever since.
"Trust me, Jane has it covered."
"Good." Because he can resist anything but temptation when he's around her, especially after he's felt the touch of her fingers against his skin, he leans in, kisses her lips quickly. "And in answer to your first question... Coming in here and staring at you aren't mutually exclusive, you know. I can do both."
Darcy makes a sound that's caught somewhere between a moan of pain and a sound of disgust. "Why would you want to?" He must look as surprised as he feels - at the very least his eyebrows are heading for Asgard - because she spreads her arms out wide. "I'm ready to pop... look at me, Steve, I'm a whale."
He looks and he looks hard, feels a slow smile spreading across his face. "Oh, I'm looking." His voice has dropped an octave, maybe more, and she visibly shivers. His hands move from their cradle on her hips to the swell of her belly, meeting in the middle, just over her belly button, then running up and down. "I'm looking, Darcy," he tells her, admiration in every syllable and she shivers again.
"God..." Her voice is hoarse and her tongue flicks out to lick her lips. "That should not be that hot."
He hides his smile by leaning forward, trailing his lips down her cheek. His breath is warm against her skin, goosebumps erupting in its wake. Her hands go to his chest, making fists in the material of his shirt and a whimper escapes her that he knows she's going to be embarrassed about but he doesn't care.
And if the way she's pressing herself against him is anything to go by, neither does she.
"You're beautiful, Darcy," he whispers against her skin. "Always... but especially now."
One of his hands moves slowly down her bump, finding the waist of her pants and pushing underneath. His unerring fingers easily find what he's looking for, find her ready for him, and something that sounds like a sob tears itself from her throat. "I've missed you," she whispers, her fingers gripping his biceps tightly as she parts her legs, grants him better access. "So much."
"Me too." The words are whispered against her cheek as he continues to move his hand against her, inside her. It doesn't take long at all before she gasps against his chest and shudders her release against him. He works her through the aftershocks, kisses her cheek, her temple, her forehead, waits until her breath has evened out from those quick, shallow pants before he even thinks about moving his hand away.
The taste of her is intoxicatingly on his tongue and when she stares up at him, realises what he's doing, her eyes grow even darker and more dilated. All told, she looks exactly like what they just did, what he certainly hopes they're about to do, and he makes a mental note to ask Jarvis if Tony has cameras in this lab and, if he does, to delete the last few minutes of footage.
"Bedroom," is the only word she says, her eyes already burning with desire and he doesn't have to be told twice.
"Can you walk?" he asks because she's still clutching him tightly and he doesn't think twice when she shakes her head. "Then I'll carry you."
Which is exactly what he does.