Title: Simply Me + You
Author: clarahow // clarascarters // charleybradburies (will be posted after challenge)
Fandom: Agent Carter
Characters: Daniel Sousa (POV), Peggy Carter, Rose Roberts, some mentions of other Marvel characters
Pairing: Daniel/Peggy
Length: 2,927w
Rating: E
Summary: “Isodyne case is closed. Tell everyone they can go home.”
Notes: Spoilers for the season two finale. Begins during the final office scene. Title from the 'Song and Dance' number. Enjoy!

Daniel regains his balance surprisingly quickly after Peggy shoves him back into his chair, and in all honesty it’s probably due to just how forceful she is and how willing he is to go along because he is certainly not even thinking about going anywhere now that he is holding her.

It’s strange to be able to touch her now - and it’s not like he never had before, but he’s not the type to grab and those sorts of ideas are things he’s gotten pretty damn good at resisting by now - but it’s too intoxicating to be able to feel that she wants him, that she’s wrapping her arms around him and leaning deeply into a kiss full of desperation and grinding down into his lap and for once he’s actually pretty sure there will be no offense taken if he fails to stop himself from getting a little bit handsy.

And hey, Peggy’s definitely not stopping him, let alone herself.

Of course, on one level, he’d hoped for that, hoped that bringing back to light the ways that her words and her actions didn’t line up would at least get her to admit that she’d been wrong to pretend that feigning indifference to each other could be a solution to anything, or even that it was reasonable for either she or him to be able to do so, especially after Daniel had already admitted why Violet had broken off their short engagement.

Because this was what his dreams were made of. This was what popped into his head when he got lost in thought in the middle of paperwork or traffic: the sexy tug-of-war foreplay he imagined as so very fitting with Peggy’s personality….her unceremonious undulation of her hips with her breasts against his chest…pressing his lips against those scars on her shoulder, finding more of them, memorizing them...taking her, hard and fast, on the desk or in his lap or against the wall...and now, just the realization that all of that, every last lascivious idea, now exists in the realm of possibility, is enough on its own to get him hard.

The second time Peggy pulls back her movement is slow and reticent, and if Daniel didn’t realize she was about to say something he’d protest, but he keeps quiet, even though he does let his hands wander away from her hips and closer to the small of her back because he so badly needs to keep touching her.

When he can actually see her face again, she’s blushing. Which is...confusing. Daniel wasn’t entirely sure she really did that. God, there were so many more things about her to learn.

“I, um, I’ve just remembered that we are...in your office,” she murmurs awkwardly. Daniel doesn’t see any anyone out in the bullpen when he tilts his head to look, but concurs that this first confessional moment is a private event deserving of privacy.

They could, of course, find some excuse to head out somewhere. He probably owed her a thousand drinks, with all the swinging and missing and the phone calls he’d avoided answering.

He puts up a finger of his right hand, and reaches back for his desk with his left, pulling the chair closer and then letting go to pick up the phone. He crooks his neck to hold it while he sends the call out, and sees Peggy giving him an inquisitive look that’s first in his peripheral vision and then inches from his face when he turns his head again.

“Hey, Rose. Can you do something for me?”

“Pretty sure that’s the job description, Chief.”

“Isodyne case is closed. Tell everyone they can go home.”

Peggy smirks, seemingly in rough realization of his thought process, and Rose chuckles, barely audible through the phone but too familiar to Daniel’s ear not to be picked out.

“‘Allowed’, or ‘ordered’?”

“Rose, please, just do it,” he says, working to keep his tone even. She giggles in response.

“Never said I wouldn’t, Chief. Just bein’ curious.”

“Mm-hmm,” he grumbles, half joking and half annoyed but honestly quite sure she’s able to tell all of that somehow. It was just a gift of Rose’s - one that seemed to be a big part of making her so good at both being a phone operator and a cover agent.

She was probably going to hear about this later. Not only were she and Peggy relatively close, but she was the first person to hear just about any gossip that came through their building, and naturally, anything about Daniel being involved with a woman was almost always an SSR break room headline. Here, at least, he’s the boss, and the only male agent who’s been around the organization more than just a few months, and gossip about him is a little more rare in Los Angeles; and Peggy, well...all of Daniel’s green agents were terrified of her. In truth, that was reassuring, because it meant they were counting their eggs - and a good bit wiser than some longer-standing agents who were foolishly willing to get in Peggy’s way, which Daniel knows never ends well.

That, though, is not exactly his topmost priority at the present, not once he hangs up the phone to the still-curious Rose. Daniel realizes upon looking at her properly that Peggy’s been biting her lips through the phone call; it sends a shiver down his spine, and he sits up straighter, pulling her mouth back to his with comparable force to that Peggy’d first employed.

There starts to be something strangely unfulfilling as they grow more familiar with their kiss, a constant undercurrent of desperation for more, more, more.

Her undulating is rocking her, but not sharply, and that’s, Daniel realizes, what’s missing. He shuffles to grab onto her more firmly, left arm not only wrapped up her back but then pulling her closer with a grip on her shoulder and a quickly tightened hand below her ass. A small, surprised gasp falls from her lips, but she doesn’t break their kiss, just obliges his grasp. Some guilt grabs onto him then: he’s achingly hard and needy and he knows that just because Peggy started this kiss doesn’t mean she’s gonna drop to her knees and get him off.

But he can feel her start to smile, and as soon as her hands leave the nape of his neck she tucks her thumbs up underneath the collar of his jacket and oh God she’s almost certainly on the same page about where they want to take this.

Daniel sits forward to let her jimmy his jacket all the way off, then sits back even deeper than he had before as she slips off the chair and back onto her feet with somewhat surprising ease and grace, her departure an odd pause to follow...however long they’ve been moving full speed ahead.

She slips his jacket onto the hook with his crutch, locks the door, and spins the rod for the blinds to shut, her breath still heavy as she darts around...as Daniel takes that surreal moment to drink her in with wide, twinkling eyes. All the ways he’s tried not to look at her - everyone points out his all too obvious affection, but he was able to keep himself from being wolfish or sexual, cutting himself short once he reached sarcasm or breathlessness - she now was here, in his office, seemingly encouraging. Kneeling on top of him, taking his jacket, leaving her dress unkempt when she stood up...by the time she returns, he’s noticed himself straining against the front of his dress pants; he doesn’t see Peggy do any analysing of him in return, but it still turns out not to be long after she sits back down that she drags her fingers down his chest, gently and seemingly without a remarkable purpose, then in the span of a second pries open his belt and button. The zipper takes her a little longer - not the easiest of tasks when one’s primary tools were a pair of sharp red fingernails and a distracted thought process - but for the sake of a few more seconds to relish, he goes for a tight grip on her hips and keeps himself from offering help.

After all, Daniel was the one with less to prove, wasn’t he? All their mess had spiraled from his loving her, hadn’t it? The least he could do was let her make her damned point. (Besides, he knew it took a tipping point for Peggy to really express emotion, and to some extent he was able to get it from her - increasingly in possession of not only her trust but the knowledge that allowed him to provoke her into honesty - and he was absolutely not going to protest for a single nanosecond if expressing emotion translated into kissing him, let alone going further.)

She pushes herself back up onto straightened legs; he interrupts whatever exactly she’s thinking of doing, greedily pulling one side of the decorative collar of her dress over her shoulder, starting on a trail of kisses down her collarbone towards her sternum but waiting until she curls her hand around the nape of his neck and grabs onto his hair as though she could move him any closer to suck hard enough to leave a mark right above her left breast, somewhere fleshy and intimate he trusts her dress will cover it. Peggy’s consequent whine comes with a heave of her chest, a short moment of collapse that settles her back down in his lap, and Daniel would question whether he’d gotten too forceful had she not soon slipped a hand down between them and unceremoniously pulled him free from his trousers and underwear.

“Not even gonna steal me off to France,” she pants, half a question and half an answer, and he moves his mouth away, quickly working his path to her ear with a string of a gentle, wet kisses up from the reddened spot.

“Could,” he whispers warmly, and Peggy maneuvers to look him in the eye, just far enough that he can see her sparkling eyes and cute crooked smile as she leans into his left shoulder, arm hooked around it and a couple of her fingertips gingerly dancing about his collar; he wraps his left arm all the way around her back, his hand holding her on the right side of her waist.

“We could kiss under the Eiffel Tower,” she muses. She leaves her mouth open in one of those tantalizing little ways of hers, but Daniel adds his own thoughts anyway.

“I could teach you some French.”

“I thought you served in Germany.”

“I did. Took French every year of school, though.”

“Hmm.”

Peggy bites her lip, still smiling, then presses a soft, comparatively chaste kiss against Daniel’s lips.

“Teach me, then.”

Daniel chuckles at the somewhat flat demand.

“You don’t have an ounce of patience in you, do you, Peggy?”

He feels her nose scrunch up in front of his.

“I’ve tried that. It was anything but conducive to actually getting what I want.”

She’s half serious. He’ll tease her a bit anyway.

“And right now you want...me?” He asks as firmly as he can. Her subsequent breaths are sharper, shorter, and then, her voice is only roughly as certain as his, like she’s thinking the idea through as she talks.

“No...no, I want us. I want to...make up for lost time, to lose track of where I end and you begin, to forget that...everything else exists. Or at least...learn to stop letting it matter so much.”

Daniel strokes the underside of her right cheek with a finger, more for the sake of touching her than out of trying to keep her looking at him.

“Well, I was going to say that I do want you, but that is a rather good point.”

“Am I making a lot of those today, or is that just shorthand for “I don’t agree but I like where this is going and have thus decided not to argue”?”

“No patience!” He gripes playfully.

“Not an ounce,” she grins, and leans in for a kiss which immediately grows deep and physical, and starts twining together the fingers on their otherwise unoccupied hands as she angles herself straight again. After another aching moment with her rubbing against his erection, she straightens her legs to sit higher and hastily jerks her dress up her legs, not quite to her waist but high enough to show the tops of her tights and her garters - and the tiny pistol hooked against the outer side of the right garter. Because of course Peggy would have a garter with a holster. Probably custom-made, for that matter.

Probably best left to his desk, too, Daniel realizes, and clumsily works it open so he can remove the weapon. Peggy chuckles, and then, reaching for his cock with her right hand, pulls the crotch of her panties aside, and positions her entrance immediately above him so she’s teasing her wetness with his firm, tender head (and vice versa), before finally slipping him into her slick heat with barely a thought but a deep gasp.

She feels dizzyingly better than he’s ever imagined, and Daniel can’t help but be covetous for more; he swiftly pushes himself all the way in before Peggy’s high-pitched whimper catches him off guard enough to really realize he’s done so and worry that’s indicative of hurt. But, contrary to what she’d do were that the case, she growls at him when he starts to pull out - well, more of a frustrated little whine than anything.

“I’m not fragile, Daniel,” she moans, her lips then half an inch from his and arms wrapping around him again while she pushes herself back down, purposely tightening around him as he gets deeper.

“The only thing you could possibly break is my resolve, and seeing as I’ve already survived such an occasion I don’t think even that is a reasonable cause for concern.”

Peggy starts slowly, gingerly, rolling her hips, soft, slight gasps tickling his mouth with warm breaths, and even more so when she begins to interrupt her movements with quiet words.

“Besides, you do attest and seem to want me -”

“Yes, absolutely. Peg -”

“Well, for God’s sake, if you can so confidently mock me for acting out of fancy, certainly you can -”

“I was not mocking you. I was making a point.”

“So show me, Daniel.”

She wraps her hands around his wrists and moves his hands to the tops of her thighs, right beneath her hips where his thumbs easily come to rest in front of her pelvis and his fingers can sneak into her panties and reach around her buttocks. He has no idea what to say, and he says nothing, but even with confusion writing itself into his expression he knows that she can see the desperate desire bubbling underneath the surface. And Peggy being Peggy, she sees enough to know that she’s only got a few more inches to push before she strikes him out and calls up to base all the things he keeps hidden, tucked neatly below the emotions he’s willing to wear on his sleeve.

“Stop being such a bloody gentleman,” Peggy whines, “and show me just how badly you want me.”

Of course, of all the women he could have ever fallen for, he had to be in love with the one who could hurl the word ‘gentleman’ around as an insult.

God clearly had one Hell of a sense of humor.

Daniel might technically be the boss, but he obeys Peggy’s demands like his life depends on it.

It’s a slow escalation in speed at first, not just to have some build up but because he really does need to take a few minutes to savor it: the sweetness of skin against skin and flesh inside flesh, Peggy’s wet warmth tightly sheathing him, their soft lips already and increasingly well-versed in each other as their bodies start to find rhythm, Peggy’s hips rolling and bucking in time with Daniel’s thrusting.

(And, to be entirely fair, the first time he pushes upward into her hard enough that he elicits a verbal response rather than a wordless moan, she softens in his arms and gives him a weak, breathy, shrill exhale of “oh, Daniel, yes,” and he’s pretty much convinced that his life might actually depend on this because this is everything. An overwhelming trip to Heaven, and yet, at the same time, Daniel’s never felt so vibrantly alive.)

But they grope and kiss and crash unceremoniously into each other with sore muscles that decide they’re tired before either Peggy or Daniel has had their fill and bodies that as of yet only want to know how to move seamlessly against each other. Mentally they may be on the same page, but by nature, actual action was a little more complicated.

Practice does make perfect, though - and he doesn’t plan on letting go of her at any point in the near future.