Work Text:
Saturday:
Darcy agrees to meet him at the shop Saturday night so they can go to a proper dinner but when she shows up she's toting two large paper bags. She wants to make him food.
"A little payback for all of the free meals and coffee," she says as he's locking up before he wordlessly takes both bags from her. "I make killer chicken enchiladas." They agree to use his kitchen for the preparation and baking purposes, especially after Darcy mentions her roommate's penchant for bringing strange men home from parties on the weekends. "We can totally cook at mine," she says, "But you may have to interact with Joe Trashcan-punch."
Bucky can't suppress a snort. "Mine is fine." He doesn't mention that his roommate is sleeping with a university professor. It shouldn't matter, he hasn't been home in days. Probably because of the sleeping with a university professor.
When they get there Darcy starts buzzing around, opening cabinets and drawers, seemingly familiarizing herself with the kitchen. Bucky puts the bags down on the kitchen table and takes off his jacket. He hangs it on the back of a chair before folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the doorway to watch her.
When she's done she looks at him from the center of the room. "Okay, I have learned you own 6 or 7 moderately sized appliances that I have no idea how to use. Also, I don't remember where anything is."
Bucky can't help himself, he laughs. And Darcy blushes. And he wants to kiss her.
He shakes his head. "I'll gather what you need. You handle those," he motions toward the bags.
"Word."
When the enchiladas are prepped Darcy sets the timer and pulls the oven door open.
"Oh, hold on," Bucky says suddenly, going for the fridge. He digs around and comes up with a bag of shredded cheese.
"The recipe calls for a certain amount of shredded goodness, sir. If you put that cheese on we could mess up the delicate balance of the thing," Darcy says with her hands on her hips.
Bucky rolls his eyes. "You said you never put on enough cheese and the enchiladas always end up with dry edges. I have an extra bag. Figured it couldn't hurt." He opens the bag and moves for the pan, spreading the extra cheese around the edges before picking up the pan and putting it in the oven. After he starts the timer he turns to toss the empty bag and finds not only that Darcy hasn't moved but that she's staring at him.
"Bucky," she says it like she's scolding him for making a grievous social error. "I mentioned my slim cooking prowess once when I first started coming in. I remember cause of that ridiculous start of term 'potluck'." Darcy makes finger quotes. "Potluck my ass, more like Darcy makes dinner and feeds freeloaders. I digress. How the hell did you remember that?"
Bucky shifts uncomfortably, not realizing his slip until it's too late.
Darcy must mistake his silence for offense at her comment on his memory, because she starts babbling. "Ah shit, I didn't mean - I mean, I don't know how bad your memory is, we haven't gotten to that part. Or at least why or anything and I didn't mean to make it sound like it was bad you remembered this little thing about me. It's not bad I just-" She cuts herself off with a frustrated growl. Darcy presses him against the doorway then, all curves and dark eyes and full lips. "I'm gonna kiss you now. Because if you talk any more I'm gonna panic."
Bucky furrows his eyebrows, "I haven't said anything."
"That was sarcasm and since you're not gonna talk I have to find something else to do with my mouth." Bucky's expression doesn't change and this time when he opens his mouth to speak Darcy continues on quickly, "I like the things you remember, about me. I like that you remember me telling you about drying out my mom's recipe. I'm just skittish. It's been a long time since I was important to someone like that and boys waxing poetic while telling me outlandish things makes me nervous."
Then she kisses him and it burns all the way down to his toes. Bucky thinks he's melted to the spot until she lets loose the smallest little sound. Suddenly his nerve endings spark to life and Darcy's moving backwards. She takes in a startled breath but Bucky has an arm secured around her. When he presses her against the fridge and slips a knee between her legs Darcy gasps. Bucky wants, everything in his body is singing and God he wants.
"You don't waste any time," the words are breathy and tumble out when their lips separate.
Bucky rests his forehead on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. That-" He cuts off before speaking again. "Is your hand on my ass."
Darcy laughs. "Yes it is. Also, that was really hot. So if you stop to have some attack of chivalry, while the sentiment is truly appreciated, I will kill you. This is me consenting. Now please, please God tell me you can fulfill my dream of fucking the devastatingly attractive coffee guy on his counter top. Because Jane woke me up before I finished that one and-oh!"
Once their clothes are off there's an awkward scramble when Bucky realizes he hasn't exactly prepared himself for this particular possibility and Darcy is "between gynos right now and, by the way, you were over here acting like the goddamn Virgin Mary".
After practically tearing apart the bathroom, by some miracle of Clint Bucky can only assume, he finds condoms behind the aspirin in the medicine cabinet.
Back in the kitchen the two conclude that Bucky's counter is too high. It’s nice for some wholesome making out but the positioning just isn’t rational. Darcy laughs, arms and legs flinging around Bucky, as he scoops her off the counter and settles for the dining room table.
“This may be better actually,” Darcy says, words coming out in breathy spikes as Bucky kisses his way down her body. Part of Bucky wants to respond, he likes the way Darcy’s voice is jumping and he’d like her to keep doing that. But he has difficulty taking focus off of his goal. As soon as Bucky’s mouth is on her, Darcy moans the most beautiful of startled moans. “Jam-” Darcy cuts off with a choked sound when Bucky sucks on her clit. Then she’s tapping on his shoulder, “Up. Up, up, up.” Darcy’s hands frantically paw at his shoulders and arms as she tries to pull him up.
Chuckling once with his mouth still on her, Darcy shudders at the vibration. Bucky pulls off to stand and settle between her thighs, hand checking the condom as he goes. Then he’s sliding in and Darcy’s heaving a relieved sigh, hooking her legs around his hips. Bucky leans over Darcy on the table, meeting her thrust for thrust as she slings an arm around his neck for leverage. Darcy’s entire body begins to vibrate and Bucky knows without prompting that she’s about to come. It takes everything in him not to concentrate on that thought and follow her down.
Darcy’s meeting thrusts start to come more inconsistently and her arm tightens around his shoulders. When she whispers Bucky thinks she might tear his own orgasm out of him. “Please, don’t stop, please, please, oh god Jame-ah.” Darcy cuts off as she clenches around him, heels digging into his lower back.
Feeling her pulse around him but still doing his damnedest not to come, Bucky practically sees stars when she bares down one last time. Taking a few deep breathes, Bucky pants with the exertion it takes not to continue thrusting into Darcy as she comes down. It’s difficult because the breath she’s taking are -
Bucky realizes with a start that the breaths are only a distraction. Darcy’s got her eyes closed, but a smirk dancing at the corners of her lips. She was tightening her muscles around him repeatedly. Purposefully.
With a growl Bucky forces an arm under Darcy and scoops her up again. He’s still inside of her so Darcy’s squeal cuts off with a whimper as she settles on his hips. Bucky walks them to the living room, hands braced under Darcy’s ass.
Bucky sets her down on the arms of the couch, pulling out of her as her goes. “I’m gonna turn you around.” There’s enough request in Bucky’s tone that he feels like Darcy can stop him if she isn’t interested. But it’s nothing to worry about with Darcy spinning as soon as his hands touch her hips. Bucky runs his left hand up Darcy’s spine, threading the fingers of his right hand in her hair. Darcy bends over the couch arm without further prompting and Bucky thrusts up into her from behind.
Reaching forward to touch herself a few thrusts in is what pushes Bucky to the edge. The combination of their thrusts and her manipulation pulling his mind down a single train of thought. Darcy comes first, vibrating and clenching around him as she’d done before. Before Bucky follows her down he pulls his left hand away from her body, anchoring it to the back of the couch. Even as he comes he can hear the wood underneath the cloth and padding splinter.
Taking a few deep breaths to ground himself, Bucky looks at the way Darcy has gone boneless against the arm of the couch. Impulsively he leans forward to kiss the middle of her back and Darcy lets out a pleased hum. “You want to take a shower with me?” He breathes the words against her skin, barely louder than a whisper.
Darcy gives another pleased hum. “You’re speaking my language, dude,” she says, beginning to shift.
Still sensitive, Bucky braces his left hand on Darcy’s hip as he wraps the fingers of his right around the base of the condom so he can pull out. Padding into the bathroom, Bucky works the condom off and drops it into the trash there. He turns on the shower so the water can begin warming up.
Out in the living room Darcy has moved from her spot splayed across the couch arm. Now she’s standing stark naked with her arms stretched above her head as she looks at things around the room. Thoughtlessly, Bucky settles against the doorframe to watch her move. There was always something so untouchable about her at the shop and Bucky has to admit that hasn’t changed. The way her body moves is goddamn ethereal. When Darcy finally catches him looking a blush seems to flush her whole body.
Bucky nods toward the bathroom, “Ready?” He can hear how deep his voice comes out. Darcy smiles at him and he realizes she doesn’t hear it. Something about that just increases his need and as soon as he has her under the water Bucky is dropping to his knees. A series of moans and hair tugs guide Bucky along the way and before long Darcy is shuddering around his tongue.
When Darcy's coming down from that one, a grinning Bucky looking up at her with her leg still thrown over his shoulder, she pants out, "Were you trying to hit all of my fantasies in one night? Did I awaken some primeval urge? Because if that's the case then ever am I a fan of the primeval urge."
He kisses the inside of her thigh but doesn't say anything. When they get out of the shower, after actually taking one, Bucky realizes that only a bit of that fog is steam and runs bare-assed to the kitchen. "If that's what you do during a fire I may be in danger of becoming a pyromaniac," she yells after him. Still, she grabs a robe that's hanging off the bathroom door and a t-shirt from the closet to throw on herself.
Unfortunately, or fortunately all things considered, they burn the first batch of enchiladas and end up eating peanut butter and jelly at the sink. But the second batch of enchiladas will be delicious for breakfast the next morning.
They climb into Bucky's queen sized bed around midnight. After the, ehm, distractions and showers, as well as distractions in the shower, and second round of enchilada prep it was already eleven-thirty. Adding in that Darcy lived up town they decided it was much too late and 'titty bit nipply' for Darcy to make the treck. Around twelve-thirty it comes out and it's so quiet he almost misses the question.
"What happened?"
Right, because that makes sense. She would want to know what she was getting herself into.
He shakes his head. "They tell me it was my senior year of college," he begins. "God knows how many weeks before I was going to graduate with my BS in Business, we were running training drills out on the airfield. I was in ROTC but I hadn't done a lot of training around the planes. I guess someone sent me to wave in one of the pilots. They think I saw him wave me forward and then...well, they said one of the propellers was still on but with all of the noise in the airfield I didn't notice." Bucky pauses, shrugging. "They think I must not have seen it because of the speed and I moved too far left. Suddenly I'm waking up in a hospital room without any memory of the last 8 years and no left arm. Honestly it's a pretty ridiculous injury..." he trails off.
"And you, what, got hit in the head with the plane propeller in addition to earning yourself a myriad of off color nickname possibilities?" She doesn't beat around the bush but Darcy's words are still soft with the benefit of her body pressing along his. Humor is her guard, her soft landing. He can understand that.
Bucky smiles at her, already fond and sweet, "Nah, the force threw me backward." Then he moves his hair, parting it on the side of his head to reveal a pink scar that hair has only really just begun to cover up. "Damage to the temporal AND parietal lobes."
"Holy shit," her fingers are on his scalp, touching and tracing. They pause. "Is it just me, or is this in the shape of a star?"
Bucky snorts, "I honestly don't know, I can never get a good look at it." And her fingers are gone. "Oh, no, I liked-" Her fingers are back but this time she cards them through his hair. "Mmm."
They fall asleep like that, Darcy's toes tucked against Bucky's ankles as she runs her fingers through his hair.
----
Sunday:
At six in the morning Bucky wakes up with Darcy's mouth around his dick. "Jesus Christ," he groans out, dragging a pillow over his face. Darcy laughs and the vibration shoots through him. It isn't long before he can't keep his hips still. "Darcy, Darc I'm gonna-" and then she takes him down her throat. When Bucky comes he swears he can see stars. He takes a few moments to catch his breath before he attempts to speak. "No complaints up here, but what was that for?" he asks, pulling the pillow off his face.
Darcy climbs up his body, looking for all the world like the cat who got the cream. "You said you had to be up at six to open the shop. I figured I'd wake ya in style."
Bucky freezes for a moment in thought, gives it some serious consideration, and then gets up to pad to the livingroom where he's pretty sure he dropped his pants just before their second round. He returns with a phone at his ear.
He's climbing back under the covers when a voice comes over the line. "Sam," he says, talking over Darcy's squeal when he uses his super strong prosthetic to grab her around the waist and drag her against him. "I'm sick." And then he gives a pathetically unconvincing couple of coughs. "If you can open the shop for my seven am church crowd I'll have Clint there by nine."
Bucky's phone is turned up much too loud because Sam's voice rings through the room like a bell, "This is the only one of these you get, Barnes. Though if that's the brunette from the college then I'd say that's a favor well spent," and the line clicks.
Bucky is beet red when Darcy turns her head to look back at him but she just laughs, "Make your other call. If you're not going to work then you have a favor to return, mister," and she leans back against his chest.
Bucky quickly calls Clint repeatedly until he answers and then threatens him. Clint promises to be at the shop by nine and lets Bucky know he hid condoms in the bathroom behind the aspirin. Bucky hangs up on Clint and shifts the entirety of his focus to the newly naked girl in his bed and making her gasp. Actually, good call on the condoms, Clint.
At nine-thirty Bucky slips out of bed. When Darcy finds him in the kitchen he's plating some enchiladas he heated up. "I thought, leftover mexican food, yeah okay that's breakfast." He nods his head in the direction of the coffee pot and Darcy looks for a moment like she might blow him right there in the kitchen.
They sit at the table and eat in companionable silence, sipping coffee all the while. When they finish Darcy stands up, snagging the plates from the table and taking them to the sink. Bucky follows her with the cups.
Bucky places the cups in the empty side of the sink when Darcy starts babbling. "Um, so I guess I`ll get out of your hair. I mean, I know you called into work and I don't wanna overstay my welcome. I have this knack for getting on peoples nerves. Not that I'm trying to talk you out of the resounding crush you claim to have on me. I'm just saying, this face, not ideal for day in and-"
He licks into her mouth with an intensity reserved for passionate lovers, like he wouldn't be happy with anyone else. When he speaks lips and stubble scrape across her jaw. "I did not call into work today with any intention of watching you leave this apartment." Bucky pulls back to catch her eye, "Too intense?"
Darcy shakes her head adamantly. "Nope, still firmly placed in hot territory." She shakes out her hands, "Damn, boy. You marathon often?"
Bucky doesn't look away from her face but he does shake his head. "Think it might be the opposite. I haven't had sex in four ye-" This time Darcy's hand over his mouth is what silences him.
Her eyes are wide and she looks like she's trying to read him. "Okay, that's definitely one of those intense panic inducing statements that we touched on yesterday because you are gorgeous and you make my toes curl and if you make up stories like that I'm gonna think I'm something special."
He doesn't say it when he kisses her this time, or when he lays her down on the bed to properly explore her body. But when he's had her two or three more times and she's in the middle of a late morning nap Bucky finds himself whispering that Darcy couldn't begin to imagine how special she already is.
Around one pm Bucky wakes to a banging noise. It takes a whole two seconds for him to realizes it's on the front door. It takes him even less time to look at his phone and see how many calls he's missed.
Steve. Ah fuck, he didn't tell Steve.
"Jesus, who is that?" Darcy asks, tugging on the shirt she'd borrowed from Bucky.
Bucky sighs, "It's Steve." The banging stops. "He's going for the hidden key."
"Why is he being such a gigantic cock block?" she hisses.
His eyes flutter shut and he rubs his temple with his right hand. "I don't-it's more common for me to call in a favor...because something's wrong-"
"Oh My God, you were serious about the four year thing!" There is such shock in Darcy's voice when she interrupts him. Bucky opens his eyes and arches an eyebrow. Darcy continues, "You were so serious that your friend is about to beat down your front door and here I was thinking the hot coffee dude might be full of shit after the way he pinned me down and HOLD ON!" She jumps out of bed.
"What are you doing?" Bucky didn't expect that and, well okay, Darcy has run into the living room in nothing but his t-shirt. He propels himself out of bed, grabbing some sweat pants and throwing them on before going after her. He reaches her, hands grabbing at her waist intent on pulling her backward, when the door opens.
"Buck, are you-" Steve's voice cuts off then and the color drains from his face. "Christ, Bucky, I was worried about you!" And he's yelling but he's also turning his back on them. "Here I am showing up to see how your date went only to find out Sam opened the shop this morning and Clint took over. When he told me you'd called in sick I-"
"Immediately ran over here without listening to his, I'm sure, colorful theories about why I actually called in?" Bucky's fingers tighten around Darcy's waist and he begins pulling her backward.
"No, I wanna see Commander United over there blush. I got to see him blanch, now lemme see the embarrassment!"
Bucky ignores her. Once they're back in his bedroom he put his hands on her shoulders. "I am begging you to stay in here. If you do that for me, when I'm done, I will cook lunch and we can ask each other more probing questions."
Darcy seems to consider Bucky's offer for a moment before nodding her head and sticking out her hand, "Deal."
Bucky takes the proffered hand, "Good." He shuts the bedroom door behind him and goes to find Steve.
Steve's is in the kitchen heating up leftover coffee in the microwave. "Bucky," he begins, big brother tone sharp.
Bucky rolls his eyes but moves to sit at the kitchen table. "I know I should have let you know everything was okay. I just got...distracted."
Steve nods, "I get that. But last time this happened I found you at the base in Paramus." He looks down the hall, in the direction of Bucky's bedroom door. "Does she have any idea?"
Bucky shrugs, looking down at his hands. "She didn't, but she's a nosey thing," Bucky lifts a hand to run it over his face. "I imagine she's figuring it out. Thanks for that, by the way." He sounds bitter but he knows it's probably better. Because there is a plaque fixed to his bedside table and another at his bedroom door. She'll have noticed them by now and Darcy is smart:
Barnes
James, B.
4625555
AB Positive
Catholic
Disarm: 'To the end of the line.'
Maintain Cover: Sam Wilson - (786) 555-5555
Steve freezes mid-pace. "I didn't think of that." Bucky nods.
Steve leaves Bucky's apartment five minutes later after he's downed his coffee with a promise to wait longer when knocking as long as Bucky tells him when he really is just getting some. "I'm not entirely sure that's gonna be a problem, but yeah I promise."
When Bucky re-enters his room Darcy is sitting on the side of his bed staring at the plaque fastened to his nightstand. "It's anti-conditioning," he says without provocation. "Supposed to help me rehabilitate after," Bucky looks at his metal hand, "My 'stint' as a military tool."
"So, when you told me you were crazy, you weren't talking about the amnesia thing specifically?"
Bucky shakes his head, moving closer to her.
"And the, um, the disarm sentence at the bottom there..." she trails off before she looks over at Bucky where he's stopped at the edge of the bed. "I'm guessing it's not because you wake up in the middle of the night with a mad hankering for pizza."
Bucky shakes his head again.
Darcy doesn't say anything for a little while, then suddenly, "Could my waking you up this morning like I did have gotten me killed?" The question is straightforward and rational. Like Darcy. But her voice is so small. Unlike Darcy.
He's moving toward her now and when he reaches her side she doesn't flinch away, which is a nice sign, "I wouldn't have let you stay if that was possible. I'm not dangerous to people around me, I swear." Bucky sighs and perches next to Darcy on the bed, "I just didn't know how to begin to bring this up."
"Well, I'd say it's story time," is all Darcy says, her voice as quiet as before.
Bucky nods, "Alright." He considers how to start and after a moment decides to just dive in. "After my accident I was pretty low; armless and missing huge portions of my memory and whatnot. I guess I struck the government as promising and they liked the universal recipient thing, because they offered me a place in a program. The recruiter claimed it was designed to rehabilitate injured soldiers and I figured, what did I have to lose at that point." Bucky pauses, his mouth dry, and is surprised when Darcy reaches to give his hand an encouraging squeeze. "It wasn't what they promised. They were using my muscle memory from training along with the gaps in my mind to implant me with missions." Darcy sucks in a breath but Bucky has to finish. "No one knew what they were doing but they had me for a year. Then one day there was Steve," he pauses and apparently Darcy can pick up this thread.
"All lawyered up and hitting them with injunctions?"
Bucky can't suppress a little smile, "Exactly." The smile falters. "Maybe once a year at this point, though it used to be more frequent, I wake up and I'm nothing. Not Bucky, not James, just a shell waiting for orders." Darcy doesn't make any moves or noises now and Bucky doesn't look at her. "If the disarm sentence doesn't work something in my brain understands that I need to maintain cover and I call Sam." Bucky has never called him for personal reasons.
Darcy nods, like she finally understands, though he knows she has questions, "Which is why Steve came like he did..."
"Mhmm."
They sit in silence after that until Darcy bursts out, "That`s so fucked up."
Bucky stares at their joined hands, "Yes, it is." And when Darcy pulls her hand away Bucky reminds himself that he`s glad he kissed her, took her to bed, at least he got to feel that. He went a little overboard when things first settled down, fucking everything that smiled at him, and he's glad he got to feel what it's like to be with someone that cared. Needless to say he's surprised when she throws her leg over and settles in his lap. "Wha--"
"What 'wha'? These issues play in my favor way better than 'liar' or 'womanizing freak'." Darcy winces, "I don't mean they're not heavy, I just mean...oh fuck it, you get the point." Then she kisses him and Bucky relaxes into the warmth of her.
It's like that for the rest of the day; warm and relaxed. He feeds them and they argue over what to watch on Bucky's Xbox...well it's less arguing and more perpetual distraction. They set up in Bucky's bed with Netflix finally, sticking on South Park because it's something they've both seen and it won't matter if sometimes they don't pay attention.
Bucky makes them breakfast for dinner, french toast and bacon. He think's Darcy's amazing smile is burned into his retinas. She tries to leave around ten, gets up intent on putting on her clothes and everything.
"Reality returns tomorrow. Just give me one more night."
She does.
----
Monday:
It starts snowing just after midnight on Monday morning. Big, fluffy flakes that stick to everything they touch. And it's not that they don't live on the east coast and aren't prepared for the snow. It's more that the snow happens so fast and it's so cold. One moment the weather channel is declaring freezing temperatures with dry streets. The next Darcy's phone is blaring some god awful tone at five am.
Darcy springs out of bed with the grace of an Olympic hurdler, probably intent on silencing the offensive noise. It doesn't matter. Bucky's been awake for the last hour soaking in everything; the way her head feels on his shoulder, the pressure of her cold toes tucked against his ankle, the tickle of her soft hair against his chest. He was supposed to be at the shop half an hour ago but he couldn't pull himself out of bed. When she comes back into the room Bucky has propped himself up against the headboard and turned the bedside light on.
Darcy groans. "You are so not allowed to look like that this early in the morning, it's too cruel." But as she climbs back in bed her fingers skim up his exposed thigh, stopping at the bottom of his boxer briefs.
Bucky lets out a throaty laugh, equal parts early morning vocal disuse and spiked arousal, "Should I ask?" He grunts, eyes darting to the phone in her other hand
Darcy shakes her head like she'd honestly forgotten. "Sorry, I got distracted." She removes her hand from Bucky's thigh and sits back on her heels. "Um..." She shakes her head again. "School. School closed. They said every road leading into campus is iced over and it's too cold for the salt brines to do anything. Should thaw tomorrow, it's supposed to warm up."
It's Bucky's turn to groan. In the few instances where the campus roads have frozen enough to close school he's been unable to open shop for the day. He starts to push himself out of bed. "I have to-" but a pale hand on his chest stops him.
"Malone is completely iced over."
Bucky lets himself fall back against the headboard. "Dammit." Then Darcy is swinging her leg over dear God and settling herself in Bucky's lap.
"I'm sorry," she says, "But I'm missing the bad here." Suddenly Bucky is too. She begins a steady but slow grind in his lap, hips canting almost lazily. "When you haven't let a girl leave your apartment in two nights and a full day you're supposed to be excited when you get snowed in with her."
Bucky's brain had already started to mush but Darcy's reminder of their weekend disintegrates it entirely.