Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE
Steve Rogers may have been a man out of time, but he was still very much a man. He had wants and desires, and none of them were for baseball, apple pie, or Chevrolet.
The modern world had bought the Captain America PR campaign lock, stock, and smoking barrel—and consequently had applied that to the man underneath the uniform. Polite didn’t mean innocent, and gentleman didn’t mean neutered.
But that’s what everyone seemed to think. Clint and Tony both thought he was a virgin. He’d been inundated with fanmail from women who’d sworn it was their patriotic duty to “punch his v-card.” He wasn’t going to hold a press conference to explain to the world at large that he’d lost his virginity to a brothel.
The whole brothel. Not just one prostitute, but one right after the other in a three day mission. His virginity, or lacktherof had been Top Secret. They’d wanted to test the limits of his super-serum—and test them they had. He probably knew more about carnal relations than the Kama Sutra.
But no, everyone wanted to shove him into this little labeled box. Which he guessed he was okay with, because yeah, the press conference about his train and the number of tunnels… not happening.
Although, he had learned he was immune to STDs and his semen cured the Clap. He hadn’t appreciated the intentional exposure to infection just to see. He couldn’t imagine living with that forever. Whenever he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he reminded himself that an immortal strain of the Clap was a very real possibility and then being grateful for what he did have (or didn’t in this case) wasn’t so very hard.
But what was hard? His cock. Rock fucking hard. That curvy little ball of noise and sarcasm who looked like a walking pinup had just darted past and he could smell the faint hint of her perfume, her conditioner and another scent that was uniquely her. It was sweet and feminine, and made his mouth water. Although, he was sure she wouldn’t appreciate being thought of in the same breath as the Clap. He was glad she wasn’t psychic. That would be awkward.
Every time he caught scent of her, it was the same. He was surprised his desk was on four legs instead of five. The super serum made everything bigger. Everything.
He leaned back in his chair and caught a flash of pink. She was wearing a cotton candy pink sweater that looked soft as a kitten. His fingers itched to touch it, and not just because of the enticing way it stretched over her generous breasts. He loved everything about the way she looked. The long, black pencil skirt that accentuated her already dangerous curves—especially since she’d put on just a little bit of weight. It had gone to all the best places. He loved the way her hair curled over the pale expanse of her cleavage, her bright red lips that he couldn’t stop imagining wrapped around his cock and her hands.
Her hands were so small, so soft, but he knew they could bring a man or alien low with that taser she carried in her bag. She was the embodiment of the ultimate fantasy woman for Steve—all kinds of delicious, but with a sharp edge. Much like his favorite candy—sweet and tart all at the same time.
Yes, he even liked her sharp little tongue. He loved watching her cheeks flush and her eyes flash while she gave someone a set down that they righteously deserved. She was fearless.
Steve would admit to wishing she was just a little less so. Not so he could play hero, although he wouldn’t mind being the one to save the day—to have her pressed against—no. He just wanted her to be safe. To take a little more care with herself.
Like last week when a rogue faction out of Croatia had kidnapped her on the way to work to try to blackmail Stark. She stood there, hands on her hips, lecturing them about how this really wasn’t what they wanted to do. She’d shown no fear and Steve, well, he thought for sure they were going to kill her. Fear had tightened in his gut like coiled serpent. Thor had crushed the guy’s head with his hammer, leaving nothing but a stain on the subway wall before he’d had a chance to do permanent damage. And she’d seemed singularly unfazed.
Although that moment when her eyes locked with his, he saw so much in her eyes. He’d drowned there and he just wanted to make her safe, keep her safe.
Actually, he was still supposed to be writing his narrative about what happened. He’d figured out the laptop, it was actually a much smoother process than a typewriter. But he’d admit that he kind of missed the sound that the keys made when they splashed a new character on that clean white paper.
All he was doing was recording facts, but he still found himself staring at the blank screen. He kind of wished something else would blow up so he’d have something to do, some way to try to channel this kinetic energy and get his mind off of Darcy Lewis and his dick.
“Hey, Captain Muscl-y. You got a sec?” The object of his current obsession peered back around the corner of the doorway to his office.
He was struck again by the scent of her and his flagging erection was once again at full salute. “Sure, Darce.”
So she did notice his body. It was a good body. He knew what he looked like naked.
She rewarded him with a smile. “That’s much better. Last time with all the ma’aming, I was worried.”
“I think I’ve picked up the cadence and slang of this decade fairly well. But I still like to be polite.”
“Of course you do. And, um—“ she pressed her velvet lips together tight for a moment “—if you wanted to keep some of your old timey phrases, there are those of us that wouldn’t mind.”
“Including you?” He just wanted to make sure he was reading her signals loud and clear.
“Duh, me.” She grinned and her cheeks flushed just the tiniest bit. “I kind of like that whole dollface business.”
“I’ll make you a deal. You keep dressing like a pinup and I’ll keep talking to you like one. Work for you, dollface?”
He loved seeing the color in her cheeks. Yeah, she liked it. She more than liked it. Steve flashed her a grin.
“Yeah, Captain Muscle-y. It does.” She pressed her lips together again and set down the coffee she had in her hand. “I actually came here for this.” She nudged it at him.
“To bring me coffee?” He raised a brow. “Not to go looking a gift horse, Darce, but it’s not going to tase me, is it?” That’d just make his hard on, well, harder. He didn’t need that. Not that he was into that or anything, but he’d already learned it was an involuntary response from that time he’d startled her in the archive.
She leaned against his desk, half sitting on it. Her scent wrapped around him and he didn’t care if she tased him. It would be worth it, just to sit this close to her. And her laugh, it was deep and throaty, all sex-pot. “No. You’d have to worry if you were Clint.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “He’s got about one-hundred twenty volts coming for that last prank. And I’ll get him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow… but soon.” Then her face changed as she gave him a soft, shy smile. “I just wanted to thank you.”
“For what?” He was happy to be thanked, happy to spend this time with her, but he wanted to know what he’d done right so he could do it again.
“Last week.” It seemed like this was hard for her to say.
“I didn’t do anything. It was Thor who saved you.” He was glad that Thor had saved her, but he couldn’t help but wish it had been him.
“No, it was you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He’d been there, but he’d done nothing to help except decoy. “I was just there to keep their attention while someone else did the hard work. Kind of like the last war.” He hated that he was a dancing monkey. Granted that hadn’t been the whole of his service, but that’s what they wanted from him. That’s what Stark wanted from him. They wanted him to be the face of the Avengers. All-American PR stunt goodness.
“Seeing you there, it was like I knew everything would be okay then. Nothing bad could possibly happen to me with you there. So it helped me stay calm. The way you were looking at me, it was like a promise.”
Yeah, it had been a promise to himself. One he couldn’t keep. He’d sworn once he’d gotten her to safety, she’d never go through anything like that again. But he had no control over her—even if she was ever his girl. She made her own choices.
“Is that stupid? That’s stupid. I’m going to shut up now.”
“No,” he rushed to reassure her. “It’s not stupid.” And he decided to confess. She needed the words more than he needed to keep them silent. “It was a kind of promise, but it was a lie.”
“How’s that?” She was smiling again. He loved her smile.
“I promised that once I got you to safety, I’d never let anything like that happen to you again.”
He expected her to rebel against the sentiment, inform him that this wasn’t 19-Opression and that women didn’t need to be protected or coddled and she’d do as she pleased. He’d obviously been on the other end of that scolding more than once. As had Thor, to be fair.
“So you’re the one responsible for my move to the tower?” She arched a brow.
“The blame is Thor’s too.”
She laughed. “It’s rather nice, actually. Thank you. But you still haven’t told me how it was a lie.”
“I can’t protect you all the time. Especially if I can’t tell you where you can and can’t go. I suppose I could tell you, but I doubt you’d listen. So I can’t say that nothing like that will ever happen again. I can’t guarantee I’ll always be there.”
She put her hand out and clasped his shoulder in the manner of war heroes and drinking buddies. “You should probably remember that applies to the rest of the world, too, you know?”
He realized that was the problem with the narrative he was trying to write. He felt like he should always be there and that made framing things a much different animal.
“You’re still writing your narrative? The new SHEILD liaison was bugging me about getting you guys on the ball with that. How about I just write it for you? I bullshit my way through a whole semester of criminal justice studies.” She grinned. “My way of saying thanks. Coffee is a miracle, but doesn’t quite express my gratitude.”
“No thanks needed, ma’am. Just doing my job.” He let the persona fade away. “But if you insist, I won’t say no.”
“You really shouldn’t give me that kind of power, Steve.”
Damn, but he liked hearing his name on her lips. Even if it was a threat. He wanted to know what it sounded like while he was between her thighs.
Yeah, that definitely wasn’t a very Captain America thought. Not at all. And if Darcy had offered to do her patriotic duty, well… he couldn’t say he wouldn’t take her up on it.