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“Leaving already?”
It's a useless thing to ask because they never stay, but hope springs eternal and all that. Darcy props herself up on her elbows, the thin blanket doing nothing to hide her obvious nudity underneath, and stares lustfully at Bucky and Steve as they hurry to dress.
“Sorry, doll. Got called in.”
“Next time.” They offer her an apologetic smile, which makes her forgive them in a heartbeat like the pushover she is.
Yeah, okay. If it's not a mission then it's always something else.
They gaze at her heatedly before swiftly leaving to wherever they're needed. She sighs and flops back on the bed, cursing at herself for falling for the two superheros when it is abundantly clear that they see her as their female booty call-- their go-to woman when they get a craving for pussy instead of the daily dose of dick they get from each other.
This is a recent development, the sex that is. They've been close friends ever since Bucky as Winter Soldier came in almost a year ago. Darcy already knows that she's in way over her head on this one and she's not sure if she has enough self-preservation this time around to get out while she still can.
=
Times passes and Darcy's feelings continue to grow in the box she reserves in her heart to kill any tender emotions she may have for undeserving men (like her college boyfriends or Ian the intern). It's a method that usually works. The only problem is that these are probably the only two men who happen to be worthy and it's her dumb luck that she ends up falling for both of them.
She thinks she may have to stop all the sex cold turkey as her final act of self-preservation. Then Bucky approaches her one day.
He finds her in the communal kitchen, cutting up fruits for a pie filling she's making for later.
“Hey,” Bucky whispers, his sudden, secretive tone intriguing the hell out of her, “can you help set up the birthday party for Steve?”
She responds back in the same hushed volume. “Uh, duh. Of course. When is it?”
“The fourth.”
“Oh.”
“What? It's not like you're gonna be busy right?” Was he being serious right now? He must be serious. He wouldn't make awful jokes like this.
“Is anything happening after that?”
“You mean an after party? For a birthday party?” He says it with a teasing grin, like everything was light and fun.
“I meant, the next day. The fifth.”
“Mm, no. Is there anything on the fifth?”
She really shouldn't be surprised. They've been seeing each other for only a few months now, and not in any official capacity. Sure, all three of them have dinner together, occasionally go out to watch a picture, and maybe spend the day together exploring the city. It's only recently when Darcy joins in to their nighttime activities as well.
It's not dating, really.
They hold hands out in public with Darcy standing away like the third wheel that she is. Steve and Bucky have been each other's since before the ice; it's not like they do this on purpose.
Darcy knew she should speak up, mention it off-hand, casual or something, but she keeps quiet. The irrational part of her feels a burning resentment in her belly. While she's glad that it will be Steve's birthday soon (just a day before hers!), she knows that it would be ridiculous to have two birthday parties in a row. Since this party is for Steve only, it's more likely that nothing special will be happen for Darcy.
Which is fine. It's okay. Really.
It's not like she's Captain America or an Avenger or his significant other. They all had a birthday party recently for Sharon Carter, and though she's not a direct part of the group she was celebrated, the Avengers certainly made an appearance and everyone ate and hung out like they were all friends. Which they all are-- just not Darcy's friends. So why would they even bother making a party for her?
Right? Right.
Besides, Darcy has her own tradition should she be single and ready to mingle, and it would be just the perfect pick-me-up after this whole Steve birthday thing blows over.
=
The party consists of all of their friends-- the Avengers, everyone involved with the members, close friends, including Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and Phil Coulson, and various other SHIELD employees who have gone on missions with the Avengers. With everyone interchanging between mingling amongst themselves and gathering around to greet the birthday boy, Darcy uses this time to guzzle as many drinks as she can without looking sloppy. It hits her system almost by the first sip, and Darcy feels confident enough to be around Bucky and Steve without her heart aching.
“Happy birthday, Steve!” She gives him a quick peck on the cheek, leaving him there for a moment longer with his mouth expectantly puckered. He expected something longer and perhaps a little more filthy than was appropriate in public (this was Darcy, after all) so seemed surprised when she left it at that. Silly Steve, doesn't he know that's only reserved for public couples?
Hours in the party gets later and later, numbers in attendance dwindling down, Darcy finds herself alone with the super couple. Bucky puts his head in closer like anyone might overhear.
“You wanna sleep over tonight?”
“Was this your idea?” She raises her eyebrows accusingly at him.
Bucky bites his lip in that ridiculously cute way of his and his eyes shift to big, blond, and hunky behind him. Steve, as if on cue, readily blushes at being so exposed in his carnal desires.
Darcy nervously chews at the inside of her cheek, and looks to be debating it over. Steve gives her his puppy dog eyes and his face is so cute and so hopeful. Ugh. How could she say no? It's his birthday after all. She gives a shrug.
“Eh, why the hell not?”
=
It's fine. Darcy and Bucky take turns making Steve beg though she's not totally in it. She rides Steve as hard as she can, hips pistoning into his with an almost painful violence. Her face doesn't show her usual enthusiasm, but that's okay because Steve's eyes seem forever rolled into the back of his head and Bucky stays mesmerized at the erotic view he makes. They don't see her, so it's okay if she doesn't have her game face on.
She goes through the motions because she's already familiar with this. Familiar with how the scene goes.
They fuck. And Darcy sleeps for a bit because what normal human can even stay conscious after some energetic sex with two super soldiers. Then she wakes up in the middle of the night and sneaks out. They never mention it the day after, so Darcy assumes that this arrangement makes everyone happy.
Steve looks like he's about to implode then comes with all he's worth, hands clutching her hips for dear life. She'll probably have bruises there by tomorrow.
He falls back onto the bed, breath heaving. Bucky decides to show mercy on him by shifting his attention to Darcy. “Your turn, doll.”
“Nah, I'm good for tonight. Like really good. Really.” She gives Steve a pat on the head and kiss on the cheek. “Besides, this was for you, birthday boy.” If her accompanying smile looked a little fake, neither of them say it out loud.
=
She was hoping someone would say something. Even a greeting would be better than nothing. But everyone goes about their daily lives like nothing's amiss, and the hurt grows darker, into something bitter and vile.
All she wants is a little romantic acknowledgement. Maybe even have dinner at a dimly-lit restaurant where they put candles on your cake, and you act surprised like you never saw this coming. And maybe have sex with someone who was in love with her. Was all that too much to ask?
Apparently. But Darcy never let something like that stop her before. If no one was gonna give it to her, then she was gonna get it herself.
It's not like Bucky or Steve think about her in that light anyway.
=
Darcy puts on her sexiest, but still comfortable because how's a girl supposed to paint the town all night when she's about to fall over in pain, pair of heels and darkest red lipstick to treat herself on the date of the year.
She takes herself out to the nicest restaurant she could afford as a party of one and the servers all pity her because all they see is this poor woman all dolled up with no one to appreciate her efforts. Darcy doesn't mind because they serve her a slice of the specialty cheesecake on the house; they even put a candle on it and sing. She isn't about to correct them on her perceived loneliness when it gets her free shit.
Her next stop is the club. She goes to one she's never been to before but always saw a steady line of attractive people waiting to enter wrapped around the building. She makes her way to the front and gets in with quick efficiency. There are some advantages to being an attractive woman by herself.
=
It's a while before Darcy decides to take a break. It's been an hour (or more? She can't quite tell) since she came in so it wouldn't be too terrible if she left.
She makes her way out to the club's extensive back patio to get a breath of fresh air. The first drink she had inside already streams through her body, giving her a nice buzz. She looks around for someone she can bum a cigarette off of. She doesn't smoke normally, but tonight's a special night so fuck it, she's gonna go full out.
She spies a couple of dudes standing way off to the side, far off from the exit and away from the lights. She sees they're definitely smoking-- something not quite tobacco. She prays inwardly that they're at least a little bit attractive for what she's about to do.
The little swish of alcohol whispers soft encouragements into her head and she finds a liquid courage that wasn't there before. “Hey, guys. You mind if I shotgun off one of you?”
They both startle, until they see that it's her and not one of the club's security guards. They check her out.
“Sure,” one of them says. He takes a deep hit of his portable bong as Darcy puts her face close to his. At his exhale, she puts her lips up to his, their mouths in a semblance of a kiss as the smoke passes from his lungs to hers.
She inhales it through her mouth deeply, fighting the strong urge to cough. “Mm, yeah. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Another one?” This time she turns to the other guy who is surprisingly pleased that he gets a turn to shotgun with the lady.
She repeats the motion again. This time the weed actually hits her and she feels herself crossfade, the herb and the alcohol mixing together to give her that pleasant floating feeling.
The guys look like they're about to say something else, maybe chat her up, but Darcy's already heading back into the club.
=
It's late into the evening and neither Steve nor Bucky could find her within the Tower. They've seen her throughout the day, a lot of people have actually, but no one seems to know what she had planned for tonight or where she is currently. They go to person who knows her the longest (and in relation, the most).
“Hey, Jane.”
“Hello.” Jane only glances up briefly.
“We were wondering if you knew were Darcy was? She said she would be very busy today,” Steve makes a show of looking around the empty laboratory, ”But she's obviously not here right now.”
Jane continues jotting down on her notes, paying them less than half her attention. “She's probably on a mission-”
“Mission?” Bucky tenses.
“-to pick a one night stand from the nearest club and maybe get into some more trouble.”
“What?!”
Jane laughs at them. “Oops, did I reveal too much about her?” She notices the twin grim expressions on their faces and puffs up, as much as her tiny stature would allow, to loyally defend her friend and intern. “I don't care what you think about her, though she's not usually like this. It's just that today's her special day.”
“What do you mean special day?”
At this Jane cocks them an eyebrow and shoots them a look like they're idiots. “What do you mean, what do I mean? It's her birthday today.”
=
Darcy weaves through the dancing crowd like a shark. So many people to choose from. So many attractive faces and attractive bodies. She surveys the men until she catches herself scanning for familiar features. For buff men with blond hair and blue eyes. For the dark leanness of a brunette. She shakes her head. Now's not the time to think of those two. Tonight's about her.
She spies a sexy Asian man across the room, reminding her of neither cause of her heartache. In other words, he's perfect.
She makes her way to him. “Hi. I'm drunk. It's my birthday. Let's dance.”
To her great surprise, the guy laughs and takes her offered hand. “Nice to meet you, drunk. I'm Chris.”
This time it's Darcy who lets out a loud laugh. “Good thing you're cute 'cause that was awful.”
He only smirks at her and holds her close to him as their bodies gyrate to the beat. It's hot, so hot. Darcy needs to go... but not without her catch for the night. She turns as they continue dancing, his thigh right between hers and she grinds it to the music. They gaze into each other and the world closes in till it's just the two of them, needing no other communication except for the movement of their bodies and the smolder in their eyes.
Chris pulls in closer, as if to kiss her. Instead he says, loud almost yelling to be heard over the thumping music, “Wanna get out of here?”
Darcy smirks in response. “Let me get my things.”
Darcy and the guy somehow make it to the alleyway without stumbling. She holds him, hands buried in his hair, shoving his face to hers. It's drunk, messy, and sloppy and she loves it. It's nothing like Steve's careful kisses or Bucky's burning touches, and that suits her just fine. If she keeps her eyes open instead of closing them like she normally does, then she can be sure she's doing this because of the guy (who's tall and handsome and definitely does not remind her of anyone she should be forgetting about tonight).
Her body feels so good. She's unsure whether it's because of this person (Ryan? Michael? She forgets) or it's her body still crossfading from all the substances she's been consuming all night.
Either way, she's ecstatic. She hasn't felt this kind of excitement in a long time. Her hands make their way down to his belt buckle then suddenly touch nothing but air.
Bucky and Steve now stand with their hands iron clamped on poor Chris' shoulders, their backs towards an increasingly sobering Darcy.
“Hey look, dudes! I didn't know!” Chris holds his hands up, but otherwise doesn't move away. He chances a look at Darcy as if to ask, “Will you be okay? Can you handle this?”
“Let him go, assholes!” She takes her clutch purse by the chain and soundly whacks the two of them on the head with it. She gives Chris a tired nod, smiling in apology for ruining the moment with her super-powered baggage.
They ignore him as he shuffles away, turning their ire to Darcy.
“We've been looking all over for you!” ”What do you think you're doing!”
Like a bucket of cold water, Darcy can feel the euphoric effects on her body bleed away in an instant. She stomps down the alleyway, intent on flagging a taxi and getting the hell away from them.
“Fuck off!”
They ignore her, naturally, and fall into step with her. She notes, with a petty irritation, that they use small, shuffling steps to keep pace with her elongated, high-heeled ones.
“What the fuck are you doing here, huh?”
“We're bringing you home, Darcy.”
“Home? I was about to go home! With that guy you scared off!” They reach the sidewalk, and Darcy raises her arms in an attempt to get a taxi. They bring her arms down, each of them holding her hand and entwining their fingers together in the way she'd always hoped, always dreamed of. It's enough to quiet her rage and return to the melancholy she'd been trying to avoid for months.
“Darcy, why would you want to go out looking for someone when you have us?”
She doesn't answer. Can't answer.
“Why didn't you tell us it was your birthday?”
She fixes her gaze on her feet, kicking at an invisible pebble to avoid looking at either of them. “Why would I? It's not like we're dating.”
“Sweetheart, darling- Whatever gave you that idea?”
She sniffles and oh fuck Darcy wishes she was still drunk right now so she can avoid this. Bucky and Steve stiffen in alarm, ready to sweep her in their arms at the slightest hint that she would welcome it.
Her heart opens like a broken dam and she finds herself explaining everything that she feels in stuttering, halting words. From how they seem to only invite her in for sex to how their friendly dates out in the city make her feel like an incredibly unwanted and out of place third wheel. As she continues on, the two super soldiers become increasingly distressed.
“No, honey, no...” Steve gets up and hugs her with Bucky sandwiching her from behind. Great warmth envelopes her and if it weren't such a chilly night, she might be uncomfortably sweating a little.
“We're sorry. Sorry we made you feel like this.”
“We didn't mean to.”
“We thought you'd want to keep it secret for a while, keep it only between ourselves.”
“That's a fucking stupid idea. You guys are fucking idiots.” The words are harsh, but she say them as she tries to surreptitiously wipe tears from her face so they take it as an admission of pain.
"You're right. It was a stupid idea."
Bucky tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear and kisses away the salty tracks on her cheeks. “Let us make it up to you, doll.” She looks up at him, face full of hope that it would stop hurting and they would make good on their promise. “Okay?”
She nods.
=
Steve and Bucky end up taking her up the Tower to their apartments and treating her to a sloppy, wet orgasm that she's mostly conscious for.
They lay her with ease on their king-sized mattress (thank you, Stark), her body tired and compliant from the happenings of the day and the recent waterworks she endured earlier. They remove her tight, clubbing wear, knowing that as pretty as they are they couldn't possibly be comfortable to sleep in. They divest her of even her undergarments with the full intention of tucking her in, kissing her forehead, and bidding her sweet dreams.
Darcy evidently has other plans when she sleepily opens her arms and legs and ensnares them with the timid request of, “Please.”
Who were they to deny the lady? Bucky palms her tits in both hands, the mechanics of his left arm whirring softly underneath the metal plates like a cat's purr as the fingers pinch at her puckering nipples. Steve waists no time diving in with arms propped under her thighs and his mouth on her sopping wet cunt. Both their hands grasp and massage whatever tender flesh they can find.
Her body's been anticipatory all night so the orgasm comes swiftly and without warning as he sucks ardently at her clit. She moans and arches up from the mattress, legs folding around Steve's head and locking at the ankles. “Unh, ahhhh!”
As she comes down from her high, Steve places a reverent kiss on her mons with Bucky licking at the damp skin of her neck. “Happy birthday, Darcy,” they whisper.
Finally, they place her head on a pillow, moving her hair up so she doesn't roll into it during the night when Darcy, exhausted from the day and the magnificent orgasm, feels the last of her reservations leave her and she whispers, “Stay?”
The two share a significant look before removing themselves of clothing and tucking into the bed with her. They hold her from either sides, kiss her on the forehead and cheeks, and Darcy thinks this might be the best birthday yet.