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Smut Week: Fresh Air

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While Darcy's never been a girl without goals, there are some places she just figured she'd never get around to seeing in her life. Every major US City, certainly. A little bit of Europe, sure, and she was definitely seeing the pyramids before she died. But if someone had told her a year ago that she'd be, say, ringing in the new year in Singapore, on a poolside lounge with a superhero boyfriend on her left and a master assassin/spy on her right, she'd have probably asked how high they were and if they had any to share with the rest of the class.

Granted, they were all still on high alert over the holiday season, but with the helicarrier circling above the island city-state, Tony had justified an excursion. Besides, it was the pacific rim they had to mind these days anyway. They were just staying close to the action. Honest.

"That is counter-productive to getting a tan," Iron Man points out, presently, in the pool with a mai-tai. He's booked them a few floors at the Marina Bay Sands, and some part of Darcy feels like she should be more nervous about sitting by a pool perched a few bazillion feet in the air. Presently, she and Natasha both squint at Tony from under the giant beach umbrella they've been sharing.

"Who said anything about getting a tan?" Nat smirks, "Look at me, Stark. I couldn't tan if I tried. This doesn't mean I can't enjoy the weather."

"Ditto," Darcy sets down her book, yawning, glancing over at Steve who, of course, is golden and just about perfect under the much-closer sun. "Look at this one, though. Doesn't even have to worry about skin cancer." It's true, he's been out in the sun every day since they got here, and apparently his skin cells stop darkening just before actual damage is done. Bitches. "I've got SPF 100 on and I'm still staying in the shade."

"I like you pale," Steve just grins behind his aviators, eyes on his sketchbook. "Tan wouldn't suit either of you gals anyway."

"Tony you might want to slap some of this on though," Nat tosses him a bottle, "That sunburn you're working on will feel like hell in the suit."

"I thought I'd go with a matching shade of red."

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"I'm not one for gambling..." Steve is reminding her from the small balcony, as she tugs on the silk blouse and almost-too-small skirt she'd swiped from Jane. Office-wear, Darcy can manage. The occasional throw-back vintage to get Steve going, easy. But clothes fit for a vacation with sun, sand, and fancy hotel casinos? She hasn't a clue. Thankfully, Jane sported a not-so-secret past as a club girl with a PhD.

"Me neither," Darcy allows, stopping to muss up her hair in the mirror more. The heat here actually wasn't so bad. Tropical heat, which was a whole other beast, somehow made her long, unruly hair look sexy when tousled, instead of frizzy, and the threat of sweating off her makeup seemed minimal, "And even if I was, SHIELD pays well, but not that well." She turns. Well, the skirt managed to just barely cover her ass, so that was a win, "The food down there is amazing though, and the drinks, and it'll be fun to watch Tony lose a few grand to some Japanese businessmen, yeah?"

She can hear him grinning, as she puts on her earrings, "True. All right, you've sold me, Agent Lewis,"

"Excellent," She steps into her shoes and makes her way across the bedroom, onto the balcony looking out over the ocean. The sky is just starting to turn pink with the sunset, the city lighting up below, but Darcy's eyes are all over the man lounging in the deck chair, shoes on the wicker table. Steve's in a pair of dress slacks and a white button-up, sleeves rolled up and the top couple buttons undone in the heat. She licks her upper lip thoughtfully, grinning, as his eyes fix themselves on her sequined skirt. "So uh," Darcy sways a little, arms braced against the glass doors, "Casino?"

"...Later," His voice has dropped, and it makes Darcy's breath hitch, "Get over here."

She moves toward him, and Steve reaches out, catching her hand and pulling her into his lap. "You've gotten good at bein' bossy, Cap," She notes approvingly, straddling his legs. His hands move over her hips, catching on sequins as her fingers slide up his chest.

"I -am- bossy all the time elsewhere," He reminds her, clutching her legs and leaning forward, lips on her neck, smelling just so -good- in the evening heat, "And you don't argue my every other order nearly as much as Tony..." He grins.

"Say that man's name while we're getting it on again, in that voice, and you'll get hit, handsome," She smiles again, and then gasps, one of his hands sliding between her legs. Steve's chuckling against her skin, though he does pause to cast a concerned glance around at their above and below neighbors' patios. Darcy does as well, and he takes the chance to breathe in the heady scent of her hair. The balconies are empty, and even if they weren't, they're pretty shielded from each other. Still, that can mean little to a dedicated photographer, or some weirdo who, you know, likes to listen. "...Someone could pop out any...time..." She shuts her eyes, as the fingers between her thighs resume their movement, tugging her panties to the side.

"Mhmm," Is his only response, pulling her down for a kiss. Oh, this is new as well. Clearly, the tropical air is doing all kinds of fun things for the Cap. Or maybe it's Jane's skirt. Either way, Darcy is a fan of his new found, semi-exhibitionism, rocking her hips against his hand as he keeps stroking, lips hard against hers, almost moving in time with his fingers. Her legs tighten around him, hands going to his belt, stroking the front of his pants until he's biting her lip.

She might hear a door slide open somewhere around them, but Darcy follows his lead in the not caring department, getting his fly open and shifting upward because, really, the public need not be subjected to genitalia. Which is why Darcy's easing herself down onto his cock, obviously. Public decency is everyone's responsibility.

The little gasp that leaves her mouth as she takes him in has Steve tilting forward, grasping her ass hard as she rocks against him, slowly. Darcy's never been so thankful for all her strength training, for once being the one to fuck -him- into the bed, so to speak. For all his former bossiness, Steve's panting into her mouth as she grinds onto him, hips jerking unevenly underneath her. Her hands slide into his hair, scraping his scalp, and he's downright moaning her name back to her.

One of her hands moves from the back of his neck to the hem of his shirt, sliding up under it and over his chest. "Darcy," Steve groans again, hands on her back, pushing up her blouse as well. She grins, lightly pinching a nipple. His hips get in a particularly good thrust at that, and her head falls back, eyes shutting, and he's running his tongue along her throat. She can hear the city below, his pulse under her hand, and holy hell, she's going to come, and if the way those gorgeous blue eyes of his are darkening, he's about to as well.

They've never come together before, and it's a wonderful mess of jerking hips, hands clutching at clothes and hair, and drowning their cries in each others' mouths. Darcy keeps rolling her hips into his, not wanting the sensations to end, and by the way Steve's wrapping his arms around her, crushing her to his chest, she gathers that the feeling is mutual.

They finally pull apart, gulping for breath, Darcy's forehead coming to rest against his. They've gotten sweaty all over each other, she realizes, grinning, and he grins back, expression all sweet and unguarded and that same ol' shy Steve she loves best of all. "You're gorgeous," He breathes, smile gone goofy. Darcy giggles, shaking her head, her voluminous hair.

"And you're a filthy, dirty fella," She grins, easing herself up slowly, groaning a little, which makes his jaw go a little slack. He's quick to zip up his pants, though, and Darcy tugs her hem back down just as swiftly, regaining her balance on her heels. "...Think anyone heard?"

"Nah," Steve tries to look unconcerned, and fails horribly. Darcy laughs again, tugging him into a tight hug.

"Freshen up, and head downstairs?"

"Yes 'mam."

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As it turns out, Steve does end up having to gamble against Tony at the blackjack table, on pain of blackmail. "Oh I've got pictures," Tony cuts in, as soon as Cap tries to protest, waggling his cell phone, and Darcy goes even more pale than usual. Iron Man grins, "Hot ones. That can really easily be sent up to our Pirate Lord hovering over this city."

"You're a jerk." Steve grumbles, not quite covering up his grin, his face as red as the casino carpets.

"Get some," Tony shakes the dice in his hand, "...Oh wait, you just did."

Darcy makes a mental note to have Pepper take -her- some pictures.

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