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From the moment he stepped off the Quinjet, Darcy knew that Steve was upset. She also knew after several months of dating her nonagenarian superhero that men of his generation, or at least Steve, had difficulty expressing some of their feelings.
He had kissed her on the cheek upon disembarking the jet, but had not hugged her, kissed the top of her head, or murmured any of their usual sweet greetings into her ear. He had been gone for nearly two weeks and nothing.
Something was deeply upsetting Steve.
She followed him to his apartment and watched him throw his shield and cowl down without his usual care. He marched into his bathroom, and straight towards the bathroom.
“Sorry, Darce. I’m just going to take a quick shower. I… I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
That abrupt dismissal of any of their usual after-mission chatting stung a little, but a plan had already formed in Darcy’s mind. A plan that one of their recent movie dates had inspired, that she had been looking forward to trying out, but under much different circumstances.
Ten minutes later, Steve stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped low across his hips, teasing Darcy with the amazing sight of his toned stomach, chest, and shoulders. But she remained strong in the face of such an awe-inspiring sight. Any other time she’d start mentally writing sonnets and composing hymns, but this time, Darcy had a mission.
“Sit, Captain,” she said sternly, forcing herself to only look at his eyes and face.
Confusion flickered across his brow, but Steve walked to sit by the mirror on the stool from his kitchen and faced Darcy.
She approached Steve, taking a towel off the counter and placing it over his shoulder. She reached back to the counter and grabbed the shaving cream and brush. Darcy then began to lather the brush before beginning to coat the sharp angles of Steve’s jaw with the foamy concoction.
“Look Steve, I’m sure it was a difficult mission. And it was probably Tony who has you in this funk. But I want you to know that I won’t stand for you shutting down on me. I will not worry about you while you are gone only to have you blow me off when you return.”
“Darcy, I-“ he attempted to interrupt.
“I’m not finished, Steven,” she stated with a steely look of determination and strength in her eye, letting him know he needed to keep his mouth shut and simply listen to his girl.
“This here, is between you and me. I will always listen and will always be on your side. And when I think your side is being dumb, I will tell you. But I think this will help you let go and also serves to remind me how much you trust me, even if you are being a butt right now.” Having learned his lesson, his only acknowledgement of her speech was to chuckle a little at the truth of her statement.
“You will sit here. You will let me take care of you. And then we will talk about your mission. We will either find a solution to the issue or we will figure out how to avoid the problem in the future. Or we can plan a prank on Tony. This moment here is between you and me. Only you and me. Trust me to take care of you.”
And he did.
Having sufficiently coated him with the shaving foam, Darcy began the task of removing it from his face with the practiced motions of an old-timey barber. The online tutorials she had watched and the lesson she had taken from Tony’s barber had paid off. The straight razor was a classic, and seemed to bring Steve a little bit of his past while rooting him firmly in the present with Darcy.
She now stood between Steve’s strong thighs, smoothly tilting his head this way and that, pulling the skin of his cheek and neck tight to allow her to swipe the sharp edge of the razor across his skin. Her gentle motions lulled him into a kind of trance. Darcy could almost see the tension melting him off the shirtless man in front of her like the foam and stubble being wiped from his face.
She had known for many months now, of course, that he trusted her. But this quiet moment, in his bathroom, spoke volumes to Darcy. His eyes were closed, this serene moment between them the perfect solution to remind them both of their need of one another.
After several minutes of only the mingling of their breaths and the sound of the razor dragging across Steve’s stubble, Darcy had only one swipe left, the most delicate. He opened his eyes as she paused to tip his head back and slowly bring the razor up from the notch at the base of his throat to the bottom of his chin.
She wiped the razor off on the towel on his shoulder one last time and turned to set the closed razor on the bathroom counter. Darcy grabbed the dirty towel, threw it into the sink and grabbed a fresh, warm towel and wiped the remaining flecks of foam off Steve’s face.
His eyes remained closed as she took the final steps to take care of him. Steve was no longer tense, his hands had crept to her waist without his knowledge minutes ago, and had pulled her even closer to him between his legs.
Darcy got rid of the last towel and moved her hand to the back of his skull, sinking her fingers into his short and silky hair, her nails biting just enough to get his attention, and brought his head forward until their eyes met.
“Now that’s better.”
“Yes, Darcy, it is,” mumbled Steve, as he leaned forward, connecting their lips and letting her no without words just how much she means to him.