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He’s turning the page of his book when the bathroom door opens and Agent Lewis steps out in a cloud of steam. He tries very hard not to focus on her nipples, hard peaks through her thin t-shirt or how tiny the grey shorts she’s wearing are and how rapidly his blood is flowing south with the thoughts turning over in his head. “Any word from HQ?” Darcy asks, and he shakes his head, looking back down at the book in his hands. “Come on baby, speak to me,” she croons to her laptop leaning over her bed and tapping a few keys. “Maybe another hour or two before the decryption is finished. TV?”

He grunts in agreement and shifts his knees up a little higher, lowering his book to cover his erection. He really needs to stop looking as Darcy flops down on his bed, her tits bouncing. Steve grips his book a little too hard. She surfs through the channels settling on an episode of I Love Lucy.

He concentrates on the book in his lap and not her proximity, but his eyes keep straying to her pale legs, and every breath he takes is filled with the intoxicating smell of her shampoo. Citrus flowers he thinks, wants to bury his nose in her damp hair, press her down into the soft bed and kiss the smile from her pink lips. He’s so occupied with turning his thoughts away from the places he doesn’t want them to go, it takes him several minutes for the moans and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh to trickle through his foggy brain.

"We are not watching pornography," Steve grits out, reaching for the remote in her hand.

"Aw come on Captain...oh my god, is that even possible?" Darcy exclaims and his eyes flick over to the tv and away again just as quickly. He doesn't answer just presses random buttons on the remote. "Can you do that? You know with your super serum-y goodness?"

"We aren't talking about this," he mutters and rolls his eyes, but he can feels his face heating up.

"Oh my god you totally can. That's awesome," Darcy grins and smacks his chest with the back of her hand. "Ow. Fuck, you're hard," she says shaking her hand. Her words are innocent, no matter how ashamed he is at their inadvertent truth.

"Find something else to watch," he suggests, pressing the remote back into her soft hand, pushing away the thought of what it would feel like to have her small hands wrapped around his dick. Fuck.

"I'm bored," Darcy says not long after she’s surfed through all the channels. Steve axes the show with the vampires, and a movie about fuck buddies. Darcy turns her head to look at him, mischief sparkling in her eyes, lips curled up in a predatory grin. His belly flips traitorously, and he forces himself not to squirm under her gaze. " wanna get off?" she asks and it takes his brain several long seconds to process.

"What?" he splutters, sitting up, book slipping from his lap, landing on the floor with an ominous thud. "You want to..."

"Double click my mouse? Hell yeah. I’m bored," Darcy says, her grin sharp. He swallows hard as she reaches over and switches off the light above the bed.

"Okay," he says lowly. He tells himself he is just calling her bluff, half expects her to burst into laughter and retire to her own bed. Only she doesn't do any of the things his mind supplies, instead she wiggles her ass into the bed, spreads her knees apart and slips her hand under the elastic of her shorts. Steve groans low in his throat. Oh damn.

He has never been good at backing down from a challenge.

Darcy makes the smallest breathy moan and he presses the heel of his hand against his cock though his sweats. There is only the faint glow of the infomercial playing on the tv. "This is a bad idea Darcy."

"Look I'm horny and bored. We can't leave the room. And I'm not going to have sex with you. No offense, you’re hot as fuck but I like to date the men I take to bed," Darcy says and pushes her shorts down her hips.

"And this isn't sex?" Steve asks, because he can't not. The same way he can't tear his eyes away from the movement of her hand inside her purple panties.

"Nope. It's masturbation, the stimulation or manipulation of one's own genitals, especially to orgasm. Sexual self-gratification," Darcy says, her words punctuated by a soft moan.

"Right," Steve says dryly because there is no way this isn't going to bite him on the ass.


"You're an idiot, Rogers," he mutters under his breath. He looks up at the ceiling, licks his palm, and eases his hand into his sweats. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, squeezing tightly to ease the ache. Darcy's breath hitches and he lets his eyes wander over the curves of her body. Her left hand is buried in her panties, her right hand toying with her nipple through the thin cotton of her t-shirt, lip caught between her teeth, eyes focused on the movement of his hand in his pants as he strokes himself.

"So did they play 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' back in your day, Cap?" Darcy asks and his hip jerk at the thought of seeing her naked.

"Tits or gee tee eff oh," he says solemnly, or as solemnly as he can with his hand around his cock while he jerks off with a junior agent he’s meant to keep watch over. He's going to the special hell.

"Fuck. I didn't think you could get any hotter than your ass in your Captain get-up. Sarcasm is my kryptonite, Captain," she says, slipping her hand from her panties and shimmying them down her hips.

"It's Steve. Captain America would not have his hand around his cock jerking off while on a surveillance mission," Steve mutters. He stifles a groan when Darcy tosses her panties on the floor, and spreads her knees wide. The light of the tv illuminating the pale flesh of her thighs and the dark triangle of hair above her sex. Darcy runs her hands up her abdomen grabbing the hem of her green t-shirt and tugging the front up over her tits. "Christ," he mutters, tightening his hand on his dick and circling his thumb over the crown.

"Buck up, Steve," Darcy says, her voice a low purr that sends a shiver down his spine and his dick to throb. She slips her hand back between her legs, trailing down between the lips of her sex, her hips roll and he desperately wants to sit up to see her bury her fingers inside her pussy. He is so fucked. Or not as the case may be.

"Damn," he mutters looking up at the ceiling as he follows her lead, letting go of his cock to shove his sweats down, until his dick is free and the elastic of his sweats lies tight across his thighs. He circles his hand back around his cock, swiping his thumb over the head gathering the drop of precome beading at the tip.

"Fuck, you're huge," Darcy exclaims and his cheeks burn hotly.

"Am I allowed to say how gorgeous your tits are," Steve asks. He leaves out how much he wants to touch her, kiss and lick and bite that perfect pale skin, bury his face between her legs and taste her. "How fucking gorgeous you are?" Darcy's breath hitches, face flushing and she shakes her head the tiniest bit then arches her back twisting to give him a better view as she toys with her nipple. Rolling his hips up, he works himself a little faster, twisting his wrist on the upstroke and Darcy moans. Oh, hell.

"Close," Darcy says, licking her bottom lip. His skin feels electric, heat curling in his belly as his balls tighten. Her eyes are dark behind her glasses, her cheeks flushed pink, and her lips bitten red. Her eyes flicker down to his left hand where he’s clutching the blankets. He licks his lips and turns his hand over, reaching out for her. Darcy pulls her hand from her breast and laces her fingers with his. She gives his hand a squeeze, nails biting half moons into the back of his hand.

There is something raw and honest in their hands, damp palms pressed tightly together, that it makes his heart ache inside his chest. "Steve," she cries out as she comes, her back arching up off the bed, pale thighs trembling.

Steve tightens his grip on Darcy’s hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth over hers as he pumps his hand over his dick. He let his gaze wander from her had still pressed between her thighs to her breasts shuddering with the last aftershocks of her orgasm. He's close. He imagines burying his cock in the cleft between her tits. "Fuck," he mutters a moment before he shudders and comes all over his hand and his t-shirt. He lays still, eyes closed tight while he breathing evens out. He doesn’t try to think about how long its been since he came that hard. He rolls his shoulders and sits up with a grimace, hand still wrapped around his softening dick.

“Here,” Darcy murmurs, offering a box of tissues from the bedside table. He murmurs his thanks and reluctantly lets go of Darcy’s hand to mop up the mess. Steve tugs his soiled t-shirt up over his head, and she hums happily beside him. When he looks at her she grins and pulls her own shirt back down, which is a terrible shame to him. Her eyebrows raise but she doesn’t comment on his expression. He pulls his sweats up at the same time she puts her little shorts back on. “We’ll have to do that again some time,” Darcy grins crookedly sending a shiver down his spine. He is so fucked.