More than anything else, right then, Sharon wanted to cuddle with Sam.
And to stay in one place a few hours. And to be out of uncomfortable clothes. And to have a warm bath. And to stay out of these damn shoes, which were the worst idea she’d had in a long time. Her feet were killing her.
There were about five things she wanted more than anything else, she supposed.
Sam had kindly taken driving duties, getting them back to their hotel after the latest mission. One more low-key gig in one more random town, though this one did involve a pleasantly short cocktail dress instead of tactical gear. She thought they might still be in Texas; she wasn’t entirely sure. The last few weeks had been a blur of travel.
Sharon didn’t mind having a chance to do some good again. It seemed there was no shortage of folks in need, willing to seek out Steve Rogers and his team of do-gooders, Accords or not. But they were piecemeal gigs, which the team had done rapidfire for several weeks, after their tumultuous and exhausting worldwide adventure. She was tired. And wanted a night off. But there were so many people who needed help “off the books.” And no one on the team had much practice at turning down pleas for help. With the schedule they were keeping, time off would have to wait.
Sharon watched the streetlights flicker across Sam’s tired, beautiful face. She remembered thinking earlier in the evening that Sam just couldn’t get any more dapper than he was in the fine tuxedo he wore. But now his jacket and tie were gone, and his top two shirt buttons were undone. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off the graceful movements of his forearms as he steered. And then, he caught her looking at him. And he winked at her.
And she felt as warm and fuzzy inside as if she’d just sipped a good cognac.
Sam had found a burger joint - a well-reviewed burger joint - called Sam’s Diner.
The exhausted soldier and the worn-out spy kept each other upright in the red vinyl booth for some very good bacon cheddar burgers, and great fries and shakes.
“What are the odds we’d find this place near the hotel?” Sharon mused.
“Wait. Where are the others staying?”
Sam’s face subtly lit up with mock awe. “Ohhh there it is. That’s why you’re the superspy in this relationship.”
“You planned our accommodations around burgers.”
“Of course I did. I have, in fact, met you, sweetheart.”
“You’re so good to me.”
In the quiet neon stillness of a greasy late night diner in a strange town, Sharon took Sam’s chin in her hand and gave him a kiss that had a hint of salt flavor.
“We need a night off.” Sam leaned on Sharon in the hotel elevator and sighed into her neck.
“Mmmm, and you need sleep.” She stroked his forehead and caressed his cheek. When the doors opened, they held each other up as they found the room and stumbled in.
“Hey you.” Sharon dug into a suitcase while Sam sleepily pulled off his shirt.
“I brought you your pajamas.”
“You’re so good to me,” Sam said with a distracted smile as he slipped off his shoes.
By the time she crossed the room with his pajama pants in her hand, the matching top covered her back and arms, and gaped unbuttoned down her front.
Sam finally looked up from undressing himself, his eyes inching up her body with drowsy captivation. “You’re… so… so very good to me.”
Sharon pressed the pants into his hands, and slinked away to pull down the blankets and climb into bed. Sam soon followed. Sharon wasn’t certain that he’d be still awake once his head hit the pillow. But he curled up close and they nuzzled together as Sharon’s thinking got fuzzy around the edges.
As she drifted just slightly toward sleep, she felt Sam’s hand caress her hip.
She nestled herself into him, wrapping an arm around his neck. Then his lips were on her forehead, her cheek, her nose. Their mouths met, and they drank deep, slow currents of drowsiness shifting into gentle waves of desire.
Sam stroked her hair, cradling her face in his hands and gazing into her eyes with heavy lids.
“You’re fighting to stay awake, love,” she said.
“I’ve fought harder for far less.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close to him, adorning her shoulder with passionate kisses. She gasped and sighed as she ran her hands down his back.
He lingered a bit on a kiss, and for a split second Sharon wondered.
“You haven’t fallen asleep, have you?”
“Mmm-mm,” he murmured into her skin, barely moving. She chuckled, and pushed him away.
“If your bursts of energy are going to last that long…”
“Nooooo, no,” he protested weakly as she pushed him back. “I’ll try harder, don’t go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You, however, are laying on your back.”
Sam opened his eyes just wide enough to listen better, and slowly took in her meaning.
“Oh? Ohhhh. Okay. Yes. On my back. And you-”
“I’m right here.”
Sharon climbed up and perched on top of him, straddling his thighs. She grinned at him as her hands snaked up her body, first making sure the shirt she wore still gave him a good view, then running her hands slowly across her breasts.
Sam kept focused on her chest as though it were the only thing tying him to consciousness. He pressed his own hands into her thighs, her hips, her belly. When he reached her breasts himself, she playfully swatted him away.
“No, you’re too tired. You should rest.”
“I’m tired, I’m tired of you being foolish, c’mere.”
She leaned down to him, her nipples just grazing his chest, and braced herself on her hands while she gave him one good long grind up his pelvis. He moaned.
“What were you saying about me?” she asked.
“Don’t recall. Do that again.”
Sharon rubbed her bare slit up and down the front of his pjs a few more times, before he got wise and pushed his pants down out of the way. Sam slid inside her and she groaned, both of them holding still for a moment. They both loved to stop here and savor this… this quiet moment, this first stillness
But just in case she might lose him again, she leaned back up and soon started rocking fiercely. Before she knew it, Sam was sitting up, hands gripping her thigh, stroking her neck, cradling her breast and cupping her ass as she rocked. She leaned her forearms on his neck and watched him as they moved together.
Sam. Her friend. Sam. Her favorite soldier. Sam. Her love.
She felt a flutter starting to build inside of her. So she wrapped her arms around his head, pressing his face into her chest while she helped herself to just the grinding angle she needed. The tension built and built until she cried out, Sam helping her continue her rocking when her legs weakened. When she was fully spent, they both fell to the mattress, Sam unable to keep her upright.
From there, Sharon kept sliding her hips slowly against Sam. When he flagged, she ground against him and gripped him tight. She lay on top of him as he moaned, found another burst of energy himself, and sank his fingers into her hips, thrusting deep.
He gasped and groaned, pressing into her quickly until he too was spent.
He lay beneath her, still. He reached for her, a gravely serious look on his face.
“I love you. Ni-night.”
His hands fell to his chest. She laughed, and carefully moved off of him. “You’ll want to take your pants off first. They’re a little wet.”
They got their clothes off and out of the way. And they curled up again, warm skin on skin, limbs gently tangled.
They were both asleep within seconds.