Summary:Darcy finds Jimmy at a bar. Content warning: heavy flirting. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Jimmy is no stranger to bars. Darcy's taken him out to bars before, even before they started dating. But usually while he's there, he's just there for social reasons. He's not there to drink, usually getting sodas or milkshakes and playing designated driver. (Designer flyer?)
This evening is different. After work, he's headed to the Tavern on the Green with colleagues. They've all headed home, and Jimmy remains, sitting at a table by himself and slowly working through some liquor. He still sits up straight, but there's a certain flatness to his expression, mostly blank.
Notification! Jimmy's phone chimed a little while ago with a text from Darcy: where u at???
Upon receiving the reply, she made her way over and now she strides into the Tavern to look around.
"Hi handsome," she chirps as she moves over to him, having spotted him from across the way. She drapes her arms over his shoulders, leaning into his back, her lips coming to brush his ear.
Work had been dull enough that Darcy was frustrated by the boredom. She also missed her boyfriend, the two having been so busy with their lives that schedules weren't lining up for the spending of quality time together. She was happy to see him, as eager to hear about what he was up to as she was to tell him all about hte boring of work and mid-season.
Jimmy's text back is simple: just 'Tavern on the Green.' It answers the question, without embellishment. When she comes through the door, he sees her from his perch at the table. One hand lifts to greet her. "Hi Darcy." Once she's nearby, his arm drapes around her shoulders, tugging her in close to his side. "What are you having? How's your day going?" Yes, he can already feel the day's frustration radiating from her, but being read doesn't bring the same venting catharsis as her talking about it. He prepares to get up and get another drink for her, while his free hand stays on his own glass.
Pulled against his side, Darcy twists to try to get to his lap. Will the establish like having two people sitting in one chair? Ask her if she cares.
"I don't know yet. Maybe a bourbon and are you drinking?" Darcy's answer and catharic release of her day - really just boredom - gets derailed by one simple observation: Jimmy's hand is wrapped about a glass of "That is not soda." Concern rides high as her gaze lifts from the drink to Jimmy's face, eyes skimming his face, studying his features.
The establishment may not get in her way, but simple physics poses more of an obstacle. That table is a bit too close for the seat to have room for two people in it. "Whiskey," Jimmy answers. He looks back into her face; probing his features finds him just shy of expressionless. No smile, but no frown either. "I'll go get that bourbon." His tone, too, is level, almost monotone. He slides opposite from her, coming out from behind the table to head back to the bar.
Darcy had been ready to just shove the table back, but Jimmy slid away and left the table. Her knee dropped to the seat as she watches her boyfriend, normally far too polite to have just slid away and always too expressive to not even have a smile or a frown or a blush. Her head tilts, lips parting slightly in question, eyes narrowing behind her glasses.
Something is off about her little angel.
Pursing her lips in thought, Darcy watches him at the bar, and watches him walk back, studying and waiting.
Jimmy does draw the table a little farther away from the chair on his way past. There's nothing significant about his time at the bar; he places the order, neutrally polite. No smile, but he's still probably one of the more pleasant customers dealt with today. He returns with her bourbon and takes his place again — which now has enough room for her to get in his lap. So he still at least sees what she was going for. He isn't pushing her away, he's just… flat.
Collecting her drink, Darcy takes the room given by straddling his lap and hooking an arm about his shoulder to help her stay upright - chest to chest.
"How was your week, darling?" she asks, worried about this flat lack of emotion she's getting. Does he just need some space? Is he upset that there hasn't been time for THEM lately? Did he find someone else and … no, he didn't push her away. Just wait for the answer, Darcy.
If he needs space, he doesn't act like it when she gets into position. He still responds with that arm around her waist, drawing her closer, as if he wants that close contact just as much as she does. Others in the tavern start to pointedly look away, and there's the ghost of a blush, but just the ghost. "SHIELD stuff," Jimmy says. He's not technically an agent, but he does work with them often. And often, the details are classified, or he just doesn't want to weigh her down with it. "You?"
Not that Darcy has much understanding of what SHIELD really is, but that sounds like work things and it's got him wound up or so it appears to her eyes. The ghost of a blush and him pulling her closer wipes away the first set of worries and leaving room for them to be replaced by concern for his well-being.
"Wondering what your girl can do to help you relax," she says, settling down more fully, seeming almost to grind herself onto him. Suggestive and openly so.
That close settling makes Jimmy tense and gasp, more from the sensation than surprise. It brings a fullness to his blush, until it's almost as warm as the first time he saw her eating a cinnamon roll. Maybe about 75 or 80%. His hands tense, both digging into her back and gripping his glass. "I'm fine; I'm just tired." His eyes stay on her face, but he has other senses. "I think a couple at your seven o'clock is whispering about us. This" He kisses her briefly. "should wait until we're in privacy."
"Privacy doesn't have to wait," Darcy retorts, returning the brief kiss before straightening and looking over her shoulder, directly at the couple. She smiles sweetly, innocently; her emotions anything but. They, along with her gaze, are challenging, as if begging the couple to say anything or try anything beyond going back to minding their own business. A full three seconds later she turns back to her boyfriend and takes a drink. His blush noted, Darcy's smile gains the more typical edge of enjoying getting a rise out of him.
"Do you need more sleep, baby? We can head to your place so I can tuck you in and let you crash early. I was thinking about taking a mental health day tomorrow. Taking care of you is totally a worthy excuse."
Her enjoyment, her affection, her wickedness… they trickle through into him too. Not enough for him to respond to the grinding in kind, but just enough for him to draw his fingers, his nails, along her back. His breath still comes slow, carefully controlled. His eyebrows remain level, his mouth straight. But there's at least that blush on his cheeks, and her own desire reflected back at her in the look in his eyes.
"I'm just tired," he insists. "I don't need you to take a day off to look after me." He sets his glass down and taps her nose. "You haven't told me about your week. But we can head home."
Darcy hums, lips curled up, as he claws lightly at her back. The controlled breathing in noted as something he's not done before.
"And if I want to take the day off to take care of you?" she fires back challenging, grinning as he taps her nose. She chases his finger with gently nipping teeth.
"That's because my week's been dullsville. Hours and hours of dullsville. Really, having you take me home so I can walk around you place naked is way more entertaining."
Jimmy takes up his glass and polishes off the whiskey in a few swallows. No sense wasting it just because he's leaving soon. If it burns, he doesn't show it. He lets her capture his fingertip, bringing it back onto her back when she releases it. "Then it will be an inefficient use of a day," he says. "I don't need special care. I'm just tired." He sets the glass down, empty except for the rocks. "That sounds… pretty. What about your bourbon?"
The robotic nature of his rebuttal smacks Darcy as 'Not Right' and it makes her blink for a moment. Asked about the bourbon, Darcy downs it just as quickly as Jimmy had his whiskey, but unlike the angel, the squishy mortal hisses at the alcohol burn it leaves her with. exhaling on a sigh, she sets her glass on teh table and pushes herself up, body rolling against him as she goes.
"About as pretty as my bra on your floor. Which will be your all day tomorrow if you'll stop being a butthead and denying my want to have a mental health day spent with you."
Jimmy is on his feet with her in the same moment. He pushes the table back into place, though leaves the glasses for staff to clean up. He has an easier time moving the table, even without glowing. "You witohut the bra is prettier than anything the bra does on its own." He kisses her cheek as he catches up with her, an arm around her waist. "You're going to keep on insisting, aren't you? Alright. Tomorrow, we're together. But it's not so you can take care of me. Just so we can… be together." Soon, they're outside. "Want a lift? Or did you drive here?"
That careless strength thrills, and Darcy's arms wind tighter. A tiny blush caresses her cheeks as she happily lets herself be hefted here and there.
"Pretty much yes, because being together is the best," she states on a tiny giggle once outside.
"I took an uber. Yuo feel up to it giving me a ride?" she asks… yes suggestively.
Jimmy's arm, hooked about her waist, guides her where they need to go — which, up next, is around the building's side. Somewhere out of the way, without prying eyes. Then he settles in close with her, chest to chest again. "Always." He draws the veil around them as he lifts her from her feet, his skin shining like a fluorescent light. His wings spread, and he takes them to the air. It's just a few minutes' flight to get them back to his apartment.
.~{:--------------:}~.
Type "+thelp" for help.
Flying with Jimmy is always a thrill. But so focused on him as she is, this time she takes in the details of his wings. One hand reaches out to touch for herself before they arrive to his apartment. Not ready to be apart, Darcy stays chest to chest with him, chin canted up to look into his face.
"Fuck your gorgeous."
The wings aren't entirely a solid thing, not like his sword and shield. It feels more like bringing her hand close to a bright light, with warmth filling her fingers as she reaches through the wings.
When they reach home, he comes in through the alley-facing balcony and closes the door behind them. The light fades, dropping him back into his human form. He actually gives a slight smile at that praise. "No more than you." Then he presses a kiss to her mouth, holding it steadily — giving just as much passion as he gets — while his fingers work on her clothes.