I think they need a time out.

@ask-phil

Just call me Agent Coulson, everyone does. Hobbies? I guess my hobbies include using my knowledge from Super Nanny to deal with some... certain people, and tazers. Current status: Normal ((Independent RP blog for Agent Phil Coulson.))

373 posts

I'm With You

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“I understand. And I know that it’s your job and that your job is a big part of your life. Mine is, too,” Steve answered. “So I know that trusting someone completely probably isn’t going to happen. At least, not right away. And I’m okay with that, but I need you to be able to trust me with some things. Things like this which are clearly a result of you being with me. It hurts to see you like this, but it hurts more knowing I wasn’t able to do anything to stop it because you kept the situation from me.”

His anger had mostly died down by now, leaving embers in its wake. Mostly he was just tired and worried. It bothered him immensely that Phil didn’t seem to trust him enough to come to him about the situation. He knew that, on some level, the agent had done it for his protection; that’s just how the man was. But Phil’s concern for him caused him to lose focus. The agent was a level-headed, rational man and yet this had been an extremely foolhardy move. Did being in a relationship with Steve throw him off that much?

“I appreciate your wanting to defend my honor and all, but frankly, Phil, I’d rather let them all have their say and have you here, safe, than have something like this happen again,” Steve said slowly. “And that’s all. We can work on the trust issues, but please don’t go getting yourself hurt on my account.”

He leaned towards Phil, gently running his hands along the man’s sides, feeling his ribs. They didn’t feel broken, thank god, but the bruising might hurt for a few days afterward. He made a thoughtful noise as he inspected the abrasions on the agent’s face, taking note of the darkening bruise around his eye.

“Ribs aren’t broken, and most of these cuts seem fairly minor,” Steve noted. “What do you say I treat them with a little disinfectant, I get you some painkillers and some food to go with it? That sound agreeable for the moment?”

"Sounds great." he responded to both statements.

Phil breathed out carefully, aware of the dull pain in his side and attempting to not provoke it. He was glad that Steve decided to stay with him. During the argument and anger, the jab of paranoia that he might just leave hit the agent hard. For a while he wondered if the captain wouldn't just walk out or tell him to leave.

Part if him couldn't believe that he didn't do that yet. The frequent question of what Steve saw in Phil ran through his head over and over. It appeared before he went to sleep and after he woke up beside the man.

Yes... he was very happy that Steve didn't give up on him yet.

"I suppose this has ungodly timing but- happy anniversary, Steve."

I'm With You

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“Yeah, I’d gathered,” Steve said in response.

He was glad when Phil sat down, knowing the man must still be in some pain. Holding up a hand for the agent to wait a moment, he disappeared down the hall, retrieving the first aid kit from the bathroom before returning to the kitchen. He grabbed the free chair and placed it directly in front of Phil’s before sitting. They were close enough that their knees almost touched.

“I’m not asking you to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets,” he said as he slowly sifted through the contents of the kit. “If there are some things you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I know there are some things I still feel uncomfortable talking to you about. But where it matters, like this, when it’s about us, I need to know I can trust you to include me. It’s not a partnership if you don’t trust me to be your partner and support you.”

He placed his large hands on Phil’s knee, gently probing the area. Even through the agent’s pant leg he could feel heat radiating from his kneecap and feel the swelling. It had to hurt like hell.

“This has to hurt,” Steve said, rising briefly to pull a cold compress from the freezer. Shifting his seat around slightly, he raised the agent’s leg and rested it in his lap, placing the cold compress on the man’s knee. His eyes began looking the shorter man up and down. “Where are your other injuries? I want to make sure I take care of them all.”

"I'm used to keeping my mouth shut," he sighed weakly. "and though we have been together for a while, I suppose I'm not used to trusting others fully."

He remembered Agent Park, who he thought was a good kid. In the end, he had betrayed him, though he couldn't say he trusted the man either. Even those closest to him he had a hard time putting all of his confidence into. He had been double-crossed, neglected, and betrayed too many times in this job to completely trust anyone. Even Steve Rogers.

"With the career I have, complete faith in a person is non-existent." Phil said, immediately regretting it afterwards. Now he just sounded like an ass. "I trust you more than anyone before, but it's obvious now that it still needs work. I... hope you have the patience to put up with me."

He flinched when Steve prodded his knee, making a sharp pain shoot up his spine. "Yes. They took a pipe to that." he winced. The human contact as his leg rested in the other man's lap was calming. He felt well cared for, something that was unfamiliar to him. Phil was happy that even after all of his stupidity, Steve still managed to (at least pretend to) have faith in him.

"I was hit in the ribs, and someone stepped on my foot if I remember correctly. Most of the punches were directed at my face, but my nose isn't broken. A shiner will probably appear in a while."

I'm With You

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Steve let out a gigantic sigh.

“Stop, stop, don’t be ridiculous, you’re not going anywhere like this,” he said, reaching out and gently taking hold of Phil by the elbow. “Listen, I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry. I ran my mouth a bit more than I should have. I’m glad you’re not hurt worse than you are.”

He took deep, even breaths. It wasn’t Phil he was angry at, he needed to remind himself of that. Yes, he was bothered by some of the implications of his actions, but his anger wasn’t going to make this any better. In fact, it was rapidly making it worse.

“But do you see why I’m upset? I didn’t submit myself to the super soldier program so someone else could fight my battles for me,” he explained carefully. “I’m not asking you not to fight, I’m asking you to be truthful. Be honest and up front with me and let me stand by you. If you’ve got a problem, it’s my problem, too. We should be facing any problems we run across together. That’s all I want. Your work deals with secrets and making sure no one gets a hold of them, and I respect that, but that’s where all the secrets need to stay; at work. I do believe you when you say you love me, I just… I need to know I’m not going to lose you because of something stupid like defending my honor.”

They needed to talk, obviously. This wasn’t going to be solved by either or them running away. And he wasn’t about to let Phil leave when he was injured. He should really have gone and gotten the first-aid kit from the bathroom. He was tired of losing people. The fact that he’d come so very close to losing Phil so many times was particularly painful; more-so because he could never give the man up. Doing so wouldn’t alleviate the pain of it.

“Can we just talk? Let me see to your injuries and let’s just… talk,” Steve petitioned. “Please, Phil.”

Phil was never good at 'talking' about things like emotions because he had never had them. He held on to secrets for a living, he never talked about personal things. It was a foreign and dangerous subject in his mindset, speaking about emotions got you killed or worse in his job.

The agent took a deep breath and nodded. He never 'talked', but he wanted to keep this. He wanted to get all of this out of the way and just... relax. This thing they had, this relationship, was too important to Coulson to lose just because he couldn't talk about 'feelings'.

"I must warn you, I'm not good at... 'talking'." Phil looked down. He felt partly ashamed of what he did mostly because of how Steve was reacting to it. For another time this evening, he wished that it had happened any other night from this one.

If discussing things made him feel better, Phil would do it. He just wanted to sit down and eat and laugh with the man like they did before. The agent sat back down on the chair and exhaled in relief at the weight off of his knee.

I'm With You

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Steve nodded silently when Phil assured him that nothing needed to be treated at a hospital. What he didn’t like was how quickly Phil wanted to change the subject. They hadn’t solved anything yet. He retracted his hand, shaking his head when Phil said he loved him.

“Don’t,” he said simply as he looked away.

He stood silently, turning the words over in his mind. Perhaps his idea of relationships was outdated. Childish even. Especially in today’s world. But he couldn’t ignore the feeling in his gut that everything was wrong.

“Those words are supposed to be an oath, not an apology,” he said lowly. “They’re important. They’re not meant to be used so loosely.”

Steve didn’t say ‘I love you’ very often. Not particularly because he had trouble saying it, but because, in his mind at least, they were three very important words. Phil knew he loved him, it’s not like he needed reminding, and saying it frequently felt like it cheapened it. He wanted them to mean something and to keep meaning something. Hearing them from Phil did nothing but sour his mood further.

“I don’t understand how you can tell someone you love them when it’s clear you don’t care very much about yourself,” Steve said, looking back to Phil. “We’re supposed to be partners. That means we share things; the good and the bad. For whatever reason, you feel like you can’t trust me with information as simple as the fact that someone’s been bothering you. Even if you don’t care about what happens to you, I do. I care more about that than I do anything else. So what does it say when you take something I care about and treat it so carelessly?”

He wasn’t sure where they could possibly go with this conversation. But he knew it was important that they have it. They couldn’t go on like this.

Phil flinched when his statement and hand was rejected. He was confused and hurt, why couldn't he just say those words? Why couldn't he just tell Steve that he loved him and hope that that explained his actions. He loved the man, that's why he did such stupid things. That's why he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place, because of Captain America. He joined and went to work everyday to pale in comparison with the hero and maybe even honour him.

But then it was taken wrong. Phil didn't say it as an excuse or an apology, he said it because he meant it. He hoped that Steve would understand what he did because of those words. It was a fact, a simple statement of the truth and his feelings. He didn't toss around 'I love you' like a beach volleyball, like a cheating husband.

The agent waited for Steve to finish talking, a large lump forming with each sentence and accusation. He did care about himself, he just cared about the people he protected and the ones he loved more.

"Do you no longer trust me...?" he asked slowly. "I don't throw those words around so 'loosely' as you think."

Phil grunted and straightened up, bracing himself on the kitchen counter behind him. His knee threatened to fail at any moment, but he wasn't going to let that show around Steve. For all he would see, the agent was fine and hurt less than he looked. "Why would my feelings for you be impaired by my feelings for myself? I do in fact dislike dying- contrary to popular belief and frequent events- it was never my favourite thing." He said the last sentence with a cold and unfeeling tone, memories he would rather not bring up surfacing.

"I apologize for withholding the truth from you, and I will understand if you no longer trust me or believe me when I say 'I love you'. I can't take back what I did, and I hope that you'll forgive me. There are no excuses for my actions."

He didn't say anything for a tense and heavily silent moment.

"I'll just... go."

I'm With You

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Steve tried very hard not to punch any walls or break anything laying nearby. He saw red as Phil explained the situation and it took nearly all of his willpower not to explode on the spot. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with the agent, but he was angry with just about everything right then; including Phil.

“Goddammit, Phil!” he shouted at last, hurling the dishrag at the sink.

He turned away from the man, trying to cool his head. He ran a hand through his hair before placing his hands on his hips. It wasn’t good; at all. getting angry at Phil wasn’t going to fix anything… but he couldn’t help himself. He turned to face the injured man, anger flaring bright in his blue eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, jabbing an accusatory finger at him. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? You could have at least had Sitwell nearby as backup. But no, you apparently had to do this on your own. I don’t care who it was for, I don’t care why you think you needed to do it alone, it was a bad move. You can handle yourself, and I’m aware of that, but letting yourself be roughed up for something like this is about as stupid a thing I can think of. What of something had gone wrong, Phil? What then? Did you have a back-up plan for that?”

He was going to make those people wish they’d never been born. For even daring to look at Phil like that, he was going to make sure they paid in spades. He shook his head throwing his arms up in the air.

“And can we talk about the fact that these guys have been bothering you for a month and you never thought to mention it to me even once?” Steve continued. “If you don’t trust me, you can just come out and say it. You know, I thought you’d gotten to the point where you could trust me. But if I’m wrong about that, just tell me now. I don’t want to be operating under any false assumptions.”

He stewed angrily by the refrigerator. He hated it. All of it. The tabloids, the threats, the constant of an injured Phil Coulson in his life. Steve treasured Phil’s life more than almost anything; which is why Phil’s heavy-handed treatment of it upset him.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Steve asks. He’s angry, sure, but there’s hurt there now, too. He leans against the refrigerator, watching the agent. “Do you know how much I can’t stand this? Having to see you like this? I’ve almost lost you three times since we first met. That’s three too many. Don’t tell me you can’t see why this bothers me. I hate… I hate seeing you like this. You’re killing me here, Phil, you just…”

He’d run out of steam. He just wanted Phil to be okay. He wasn’t sure why that seemed to be too much to ask of the universe. And now he’d gone and shouted at the man for being injured. Granted, his accusations were well founded in his mind, but he should have taken care of Phil first and discussed it later, when he wasn’t so hot with anger.

“I want you to be honest with me right now,” Steve said. “Is there anything they did to you that needs to be treated by a doctor? I want to trust you on this, but if I find out later you’re hiding anything, I’m not going to be happy.”

And now he was threatening him. Great. Happy anniversary, Steve, why don’t you hit him too. Tonight was just not their night.

Phil took it. He didn't object and he didn't try and make excuses, he just clenched his teeth and listened to every word that Steve had to say. He had no excuse. The agent knew it was a dumb idea and he knew the risks, but he had to do it. He wanted those men gone, he wanted them to be seen for what they really were.

Coulson knew he had a martyr problem. He could plan and map out missions as much as he wanted but when it came down to it, he didn't value his life. Maybe it was because sometimes he laid awake at night wondering if he cheated death and he shouldn't be here. The reason was unclear, but it was obvious that he didn't care if he got hurt. Sometimes he just cared about the purpose of the mission more.

He cared about Steve. He wanted him to live comfortably and without worry- that's why he didn't tell him. When he spat the trust question at him, Phil couldn't help but flinch when it hit home. "I... didn't want you to worry.." he said lamely. "I had it under control, you didn't need to know."

Phil mentally stabbed himself. God, he sounded like such an ass- Steve was right. Why couldn't he have just told him? They were in this together so... why? Possibly because he loved the captain too much. He didn't want anything to touch him- if possible. Sometimes he just wished that the world would stop being an idiot just so he couldn't worry or feel bad. But life wasn't like that.

Phil winced when Steve said it was killing him.

He had no excuses for what he did, though now that it was gone it would be over. He got the job finished and now they wouldn't have to worry at least about these guys. Yet victory tasted bitter right now. Part of him didn't care about the mission any more, it wasn't worth it, and another part knew it had to be done. He could have done it an easier way- but it would have taken months longer than it already had. This was the only way to end it right now.

But... no. What he did was right- even if he got hurt. He did this for Steve's sake, for Captain America's reputation. If he didn't get all beaten and bloody then the press wouldn't care as much. This needed to be out in the open right now. This whole thing would finally be over-- he did it for Steve.

Then why did he feel so bad.

"No," he said. "I... I'm fine. Nothing is even broken, I know how to angle my body to avoid that..."

Phil got up from his seat and stepped towards Steve slowly and carefully, waiting for a sign that he didn't want him to. "Please, let's just have dinner." He takes the man's hand in his, holding it lightly. "That would be the most helpful thing right now."

There was a pause. "I love you."

I'm With You

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“Don’t change the subject,” Steve admonishes seriously, not even a hint of a smile on his face.

He knows Phil doesn’t like hospitals. The man had spent enough time in them, Lord knows. But he doesn’t want to take any chances. Most of the wounds look fairly superficial and maybe they don’t need stitches… but he’s seen the way the agent had limped, the way he’d leaned heavily on the refrigerator. What if there was internal bleeding? Some kind of injury he couldn’t see? Or a concussion? There were a million and one reasons why he should tell Phil they’re going and that’s that. And yet his need to respect the other man’s wishes clashes heavily with that. He supposes Phil isn’t so irresponsible that he would ignore anything that could be potentially life threatening. And he could always harass him into visiting medical at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ tomorrow if he needed to. He wasn’t sure just yet. He needed to find out how badly Phil was hurt.

“Wait, wait, back up,” he said. “Someone did this because of our relationship? What, did they have an army or something?”

Phil was no pushover. Anything but, in fact. To overwhelm him would have required significant force. But that kind of manpower in broad daylight? Something wasn’t adding up. But it was enough to kickstart his anger, a spark igniting and burning red hot in his chest.

“Tell me who did this,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Phil's faint smile faded and he smiled. It was inevitable that he was going to have to tell the whole story, Steve would pester him until he spilled the beans. "Not exactly..." he mumbled at the army comment.

The agent could plainly see the anger burning up in the other man's eyes. He almost wished that he would just brush it off and serve dinner or something normal. Yet if he did, then it would mean he didn't care- which was exactly what he didn't do. Steve cared a lot, cared enough to drop everything to care for Phil. It was a nice thing to have; someone that cared about you.

"To tell you that, you would need to hear the whole story." he started hesitantly. He wished that it was any day other than this one, today was special.

"For the past months that we have been public on our relationship, there have been protesters and such." he stated the obvious. "But it wasn't just the normal mob, there seemed to be someone backing them. It looked like there was an important person supporting them behind the scenes, pulling strings and giving the newspapers an extra 'tip'. We got an idea of who it was, based on odd behaviour and missed meetings regarding homosexual issues in the city, but we had no proof.

"Then the press started to die down and no one seemed to care any more, save the occasional fling. The offender made the mistake of hiring some goons- who also believed in his cause- to 'make an example' of me. Of course it never worked. Yet time was passing and the same outcome happened every time, I knew that he was going to make a risky move. Thinking that he was unsuspected as a role in this, he pretended that he was a hostage today when the gang cornered me. It was a reason for me to not fight back, someone's life at stake other than mine."

Phil took a deep breath and looked Steve in the eyes. "Don't get angry at me when I tell you that I let this happen to me." he pleaded quietly. "Just like I knew he would, the villain couldn't help but make some revealing speech at the end. So, I set myself up and bugged myself."

The agent took out a small mic from his coat pocket, holding it up so the other could see it. "There are also tons of S.H.I.E.L.D. cameras and cameras in general that we could gain access to. We could shut the guy down and pluck him from his seat of power with this. All we needed was some proof and... a 'victim'." He winced at his own choice of words, no matter how accurate they were.

"The man was Alexander- from the cabinet. You know him, I think."

I'm With You

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Fidgeting was not a typical mannerism of Steve’s, but in this case he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t seem to sit still. It felt like there was something else he could be or should be doing to prepare, though he knew that he’d done everything he could. All that was left was the waiting. Being a man of action, he found it rather tedious. At last, he rose from his seat, deciding he could uncork the wine and let it breathe a little. Phil really was late coming back. Whatever it was keeping him must be important. He worried briefly, wondering if he should check in, but he decided that was being a little too worried. If they needed him, they’d call. Manhattan wasn’t burning to the ground, things were fine. He needed to stop overthinking.

He’d just screwed the corkscrew into the cork when he heard the door open and couldn’t help smiling a bit to himself. Perfect. he pulled the cork and turned around at the agent’s words.

“You know, it’s funny that you did because it was the one thing I for—”

He damn near dropped the bottle when he got a good look at his partner. The smile dropped off his face immediately as he set the bottle on the counter and surged forward.

“Jesus, Phil!” he exclaimed, his hands hovering for a moment, unsure where he could touch.

He quickly divested the agent of anything in his hands, grabbing on of the chairs from the table and gently sitting the agent down in it. Hurrying back over to the sink, he grabbed a clean dishcloth and ran it under cold water before wringing it out and returning to Phil. Worry gnawed at his stomach as he simultaneously tried to clean the blood and assess the damage done.

“God, what the hell happened to you?” Steve asked. he had so many questions, but they could wait. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

"It's not as bad as it looks...?" he smiled weakly at the outburst, trying to brush it off. It obviously wasn't 'just a scratch', and he wasn't going to be able to get away with it today. The bag was taken from him and he was guided into a chair. Instead of frowning or being angry like he should have been doing, he just gave Steve a warm and fond look as he mothered over him.

"I bought more groceries, but they were compromised. I apologize." He sat still and let Steve do his thing, wiping his face and cleaning off the dried blood. "Some of the people against our relationship have been dogging me for the past weeks, today they managed to get some hits in. We--" he paused, tensing up. "We really don't need to go to a hospital. I think I've been in a medical bay for enough of my lifetime."

Phil never liked going to hospitals ever since he was stabbed. He spend weeks in and out of conciousness, waking up to a hard bed each time. The smell and the background buzzing of machinery never did anything good for the agent's nerves these days. He would only go to one it if was a life or death situation.

"It's really not that bad, Steve. I've had worse." Phil said. He wanted to change the subject, today wasn't the day to be worrying about things like this. It was their anniversary for god's sakes.

"Dinner smells great, did you make it yourself?"

I'm With You

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Steve had just put the pudding in the refrigerator to chill when the timer went off. Slipping on his oven mitts, he walked over to the oven and opened the door. The steaks seemed to have cooked nicely in the broiling pan, and the roasted red potatoes above them had done well also. The scallops, already broiled, he took and placed on the rack beside the steaks. Turning the oven off, he left the door ajar to keep the dishes warm while he waited for Phil to come home.

Speaking of, he seemed later than usual today. He supposed it must have just meant that something needed doing. When something needed doing around S.H.I.E.L.D. that usually meant Phil was the one doing it. He wondered what else he could do to prepare while he waited for the agent. Looking down, he winced at the mess he’d made of himself. The kitchen he’d kept mostly clean… his own clothes were another story.

“Time to get cleaned up, then,” he said.

Glancing once at the clock in the kitchen, he walked towards the bedroom, pulling his shirt over his head while he walked. He decided he should probably wear something a little bit nicer. He opted for a pale blue shirt, a darker blue-gray tie, and a navy colored set of pants and jacket. Making sure his tie was straight and adjusting his collar, he sprayed a little cologne at his pulse points and ran a hand through his hair quickly. Good. Everything in order.

He was probably making a bigger deal out of it than the situation warranted, he realized as he sat at the table and straightened out the tablecloth, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. It was important to him. He hoped it was important to Phil, too.

"Oh my god!" the receptionist at Steve's apartment cried, immediately covering her mouth afterwards. "Are you okay?" Phil stopped walking- which surprisingly took effort- and glanced at the woman. She was young, in her early years as an adult, most likely in university. The agent huffed and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head.

"I'm fine," he spoke slowly. "been through worse. I just need to get home before I'm late." He coughed and could taste iron in the back of his throat. That was going to impede his ability to sense different flavours during dinner. What a shame. He began to make his way towards the elevator, using momentum to keep himself going. It was easier when you didn't stop because pushing yourself forward for the first step was always the hardest.

"Oh no you don't." The woman stepped out from behind the counter to help Phil. He straightened up and took a step away from her. "I said that I'm fine." he repeated. They got to the elevator doors and he pressed the button, willing the machine to go down faster. He hated when strangers worried over him- it was unessesary, they didn't need to do it. He didn't need help, he was fine.

"Let me at least take that..." she pleaded, reaching for the pale pink bag. Phil's arm jerked away before she could touch it and her eyes widened. "No!" he blurted out. There was a heavy silence that descended on the two of them for what seemed like forever.

"I'm... I apologize.." the agent sighed, relaxing just a bit. The woman took that as a sign to do so as well. Phil didn't say that the bag was important, or that this was the only thing spared at the fight scene. He didn't mention that it was the one item left of the things that he had bought for Steve- even thought it was just food.

She just nodded and said "No problem." before walking back towards the desk. The doors opened and Phil stepped inside, not looking back. The elevator ride seemed to take forever, and with every second his adrenaline faltered and faded. The energy that he swore was there a moment ago left him and he felt like he could fall over at any moment. His injured knee shook and pain shot through it like a flash of electricity.

Then the doors opened and Phil let out a breath. He slowly made his way to the apartment door and unlocked it, taking his time and trying not to lean on his bad leg. He finally opened the door and walked in, lightly closing it behind him.

Steve was in the kitchen, back turned to him.

"I brought dessert." Phil rasped.

I'm With You

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Steve frowned at the kitchen at large. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten dessert. And after how much thought he’d put into the rest of it, too. He contemplated running out to the nearest bakery and grabbing something. The steak still had twenty minutes to cook, surely he could leave and be back in that amount of time. But if he was off even by a minute or two, it could mean ruining the dish. And assuming he was back before then, what if Phil came home before he did? Was it worth the risk? He decided it very likely wasn’t.

“That doesn’t help me figure out what to do though,” he said to himself.

With an exasperated sigh, he began flipping through the cookbook while simultaneously searching the shelves of the pantry, trying to determine if he had the ingredients to make anything in the book. After a quick search he determined he had all the ingredients for… chocolate pudding.

“Great,” he said under his breath. “Not exactly the most romantic dessert in the world… but it’s better than nothing. Unless it isn’t.”

He wondered whether it would be better to make nothing at all than to whip up something as quick and unimaginative as chocolate pudding. Maybe that would be insulting. Which wasn’t really what he was going for.

“This shouldn’t be that difficult a decision,” Steve told the eggs. “Just make the pudding. Worry about whether or not to put it out later.”

Still not quite sure what he was going to do with it, Steve got to work, carefully following the recipe and hoping he had enough time left before Phil got home.

Phil couldn't tell if it was Goon #1 or Goon #3 who cheered as he was punched in the jaw. He could see stars the next time he opened his eyes and he braced himself on a trash can. His left eye had started to swell from earlier and there was a huge purple spot on his cheek, from the stinging and heat radiating from the area there was probably also a cut.

It hurt to breathe, probably because of the hit he took to the ribs from a metal pipe a while ago. Someone had stomped on his foot too, so he had to rest his weight on the can next to him as he breathed heavily. The agent blinked a few times to regain his sight before he cried out as the pipe cracked against his knee. He fell onto the ground and caught himself on his good arm, taking in a breath through his teeth.

"Havin' fun, queer?" the leader laughs from far away. There was a ringing in Coulson's ears and he couldn't tell exactly where he was. Then the man nearest to him moves and he opens his eyes, blinking the pain from his vision. Several of the goons had started to kick and ruin his groceries, spilling the food everywhere and laughing. Phil tries to stand up "... Stop..." he managed to get out.

The leader made a disapproving clicking noise and grabbed the agent's attention. "Don't go anywhere- remember? Or else this guy gets it."

Agent Coulson stood up fully then, straightening his back and brushing off some of the dirt from his clothes. The smile from the man's face faded a bit as he gave him a hard look. "We both know that he isn't a hostage." the agent said in an icey-cold tone.

The man in the chair had somehow gotten up between the time that Coulson rested his eyes for a moment and opened them. His suit was clean and he showed no signs of force having been used on him. "How long did you know?" Alexander asked in a rich and hate-laced voice. Phil smiled and showed his bloody teeth.

"I knew the moment I saw you, Mr. Alexander."

"Why did you let yourself get beaten then?"

"Because it looked like you could use a confidence-boost, especially since backing the homophobes and losing most of your sponsors-"

There was a sudden pain to his face once more, and he fell to the ground. It looked like the man had punched him in the nose, and after a quick assessment he came to the conclusion that it was not broken. It hurt like hell and he could feel the warm blood rushing to it but it wasn't broken. The agent disliked when that happened.

Phil decided to rest his eyes for a bit.

He woke up ten minutes later. Everyone was gone, his groceries and supplies were all over the ground, and the sun had started going down. It was just touching the horizon as Phil Coulson sat up with a groan and wiped the blood from his mouth, having it ran down from his nose. He pinched the bride of it and walked to the mess, hoping to scavenge something.

A pale pink bag sat just out of sight behind the corner of the alleyway entrance. Phil sighed in relief and picked up the apple pie, feeling extremely lucky in the fact that it wasn't damaged.

If he started walking home now, he would make it just before the sunset ended.

I'm With You

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Steve Rogers was busy. It was a special day. Or, at least, he liked to think it was. It had been six months since his first date with Phil and he figured that warranted a little celebration. Did people celebrate this kind of thing? Or did they just wait until the year mark? He really had no idea, but he figured they could both use an excuse to be in good spirits. It was awkward having the press turned from himself and Phil to his teammates; the Avengers didn’t need to be pestered about their relationship any more than they did. It had quieted down just recently and he prayed it stayed that way for some time.

He’d decided to make dinner. Granted, it wasn’t something he’d tried before, but he was fairly proficient in the kitchen, so he figured he could at least try. Hiding the marinating steaks from Phil would have been impossible at his apartment; he’d left them with Pepper for the day, only bringing them back to the apartment after he’d left S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ for the day (early, of course). He’d tried for broiled scallops as an appetizer and bourbon-marinated steaks as the entree. Hopefully they were cooked enough. And the right way. They hadn’t seemed very difficult to make, which was why he worried about doing something wrong. For whatever reason, it was always the easy things that had you overlooking something.

Steve looked from the stove to the apartment. Something felt off. The apartment was already clean, so it wasn’t that. He’d set the table. Bought candles, flowers. The wine was chilling. He’d politely requested that Fury not contact Phil (or him) unless it was an absolute emergency and that no one else from S.H.I.E.L.D. be allowed to contact them.

And yet still something was missing.

“Aw, Jiminy, I forgot dessert,” Steve said to the empty room.

Well, that certainly changed his plans.

"The fag is trying to be funny," the man said. At his signal, several more walked out from the alleyway. They all wore casual wear, and two had weapons. Phil quickly assessed the situation from his view behind the grocery bags, he could easily take these goons out without damaging any goods. It was obvious that they weren't going to be moving, but the agent could try and talk anyways. He didn't want to put the food down on the dirty ground just yet. "let's see how funny you are after we're finished with you."

"My schedule is full at the moment, and I'm a bit busy. Maybe we can move your embarrassment to another date?" Phil asked in a disgustingly polite tone. One of the men growled and smacked his pipe against the palm of his hand. Looks like talking his way out was no longer an option. The agent carefully put down the pie just behind the corner turning into the alley and then the rest of the bagged groceries in front of it.

All of the men now had frowns on their faces except for the leader. He just grinned like there was something the agent was missing. "I think you might want to see this." he said simply and walked into the alleyway, waving the others behind him. Agent Coulson hesitantly walked in after a moment and tensed up when he saw a man tied up at the end of the path.

In ropes and with a knife pressed to his throat was a member of the cabinet from this city, Alexander. He stared at the agent with panic and desperation in his eyes. Then the leader of the gang stepped in between them and grinned at Coulson.

"You're gonna be busy all right," he snarled. "We're going to beat you up and you can't fight back- or else Mr. Rich Guy here gets it."

Phil stood still, fists bunched up in a ball. He couldn't get to him in time- if only he was a bit closer. He didn't say anything, he just stared at the leader with hidden anger in his eyes.

"Good." the man said, stepping towards Coulson. He clenched his teeth and braced himself for the sucker punch that hit him a second later.

I'm With You

Agent Coulson walked down the street with an armful of groceries. It was a very domestic-looking scenario of a partner going shopping and coming home with loads of bags. A scene that he never thought he would be carrying out- much less for such a thing like an anniversary. A pebble was kicked by the man's shoe as he huffed and readjusted the bags in his arms. He looked far ahead to keep from tripping over anything, since any objects in front of him were obscured by the groceries.

Six months, Phil Coulson had been in a relationship with Steve Rogers. Today was a special day for him, and hopefully his significant other. He knew that he was rushed out from the apartment in a hurry this morning, so he just smirked and left the man to himself. The agent hoped that he was planning something, that would be nice. In his case, he bought some food for the fridge and maybe a pie. He might have heard that the captain preferred a good, old-fashioned apple pie over a cake. So he might have gotten one.

Maybe.

A pale pink bag hung from two fingers, which held several other armloads of white ones. It was square and delicate-looking compared to the treatment of the others. Phil would try to glance down at it every once in a while, but each time find that his vision was obscured by his load.

The sun was not yet going down, but in around an hour it would. The apartment wasn't far and he would probably get back just in time to have some moments before sunset began. He looked forward to the atmosphere it would create.

Though Phil might need to stop on the way back home, he prided himself in his goal of arriving home before sunset. It was a promise to himself- he was going to watch the skies light up in fiery colours with Steve.

It had been a surprisingly easy couple of months. No one had dared egg Captain America's apartment, though the politicians and homophobes could get away with saying anything on the television. If they ever overstepped their line, S.H.I.E.L.D. would make sure something was 'accidentally' leaked. Nick was a good friend.

At one time, the press had given up on the couple and instead decided on pestering the other Avengers. Not such a great idea on their part. Natasha Romanova might have used self-defence to scare them off- and put someone in a hospital. Barton had hidden and managed to get to a good perch to shoot pieces of rotten food at them. He later complained about his 'dirty bow' but otherwise never brought it up.

Thor had bluntly told them to leave, and they were smart enough to do so. Bruce Banner stayed cooped up in his lab on orders from Tony, and Tony himself dealt with a good chunk of the reporters. At one point he said "This isn't a relationship between Captain America and Agent Coulson. It's a relationship between two close friends of mine; Steve and Phil."

The cameras backed off after he was once pestered before he got his coffee in the morning. Then for a couple of months, it was quiet. Except for one small thing that had been happening in the past weeks.

Phil was stopped as a man suddenly appeared in front of his path. He didn't drop any of his bags or even look him in the face.

"Oh. It's you again. Haven't you learned your lesson?"

#closed rp #born-on-the-fourth-of-july

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Fall At Your Feet

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“Sorry,” was all Steve could manage to mumble, the barest of smiles touching his lips.

He leaned into the touch before walking mechanically behind the agent, towards the bedroom. He felt Phil tugging his jacket off, and had enough presence of mind to remove his shoes as his partner pulled the shits back on the bed. He slipped in after him, throwing an arm around the agent and holding him close. His brow was creased in a deep set frown as his head throbbed, but the frown lessened at the utterance of those three important words.

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly, put at ease when he at last had the words he’d asked for two weeks ago. “Love you, too.”

Sleep was steadily pulling him downward into blissful unconsciousness. Yet, as much as he wanted it, he couldn’t seem to let it happen. When he got close, just as sleep was about to claim him, he would draw himself back to wakefulness with a sudden jolt, tightening his hold Phil. The process would repeat, his grip growing lax as he nodded off, only to startle himself awake again. He needed sleep, desperately, but what would happen once he did? Would he forget again?

“Wanna stay with you,” Steve mumbled, eyes shut tight against the pressure in his head and a feeling akin to nails being driven into his skull.

Phil wasn't as close to passing out as Steve was, yet the warmth of the bed and another body beside him did its toll on his wakefulness. He was steadily drifting into a very light daze when suddenly the arms around him tightened and he was pulled back. The agent worriedly looked up to see a stubbornly awake Steve, furrowing his eyebrows. In a few moments he would relax and so would Phil, followed by the same thing again. He was trying to stay awake, he thought, which was understandable.

Coulson hummed softly into the fabric of the other man's shirt. "Don't worry," He nuzzled into his chest. "I'll see you in your dreams, when you're asleep."

It was almost as if this whole thing never happened. They were both back in the same bed holding one another and it felt just as safe and warm as it always did. The past days were like a dream almost- or a nightmare. They were fuzzy and unclear, like he had watched it though someone else's eyes.

But now that was all behind. It was all over, and Phil could finally sleep. He could finally rest in the same bed as the man he loved, he would wake up and he would still be there.

"Meet you there," he murmured.

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Fall At Your Feet

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Steve was immensely grateful when Phil agreed, happily allowing himself to be lead out of the airport. He put up a weak protest when the agent suggested he allow his motorcycle to be taken back to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ—that bike was his baby, he didn’t like trusting it to just anyone—but ultimately caved. He knew he was in no condition to drive anyhow.

He was determined not to sleep until they’d returned to the apartment. Sitting hunched forward in his seat in the car, he held his head in one hand and Phil’s hand in the other. Keeping a good hold on the agent’s hand, interlacing their fingers, grounded him. The sharp spikes of pain were getting worse, and he tried to tell himself it was simply because he was denying himself the sleep his body was begging him for.

Before he knew it, they were in the elevator leading up to his apartment. He shot the agent a small smile, glad to know he was close to being able to collapse on the nearest horizontal surface and take the agent with him. The walk from the elevator to his apartment door was a short one, but he still faltered in his steps. Despite fumbling with the keys, he managed to get the door unlocked and open, tugging the agent inside with him and closing it behind them.

He turned and leaned heavily against the door, resting his hands on Phil’s shoulders. He let his hands travel lower, resting them on the agent’s hips and pulling him closer.

“Come to bed with me?” he asked, his eyes heavily lidded already.

It was still rather early in the day, but he didn’t think he’d last another five minutes awake. He was anxious to have the shorter man close to him. Though he didn’t want to say it, the thought of sleep scared him witless, regardless of how much he needed it.

Phil let Steve lead him into the apartment, knowing the man was fully capable of handling himself. When they entered, he was surprised to be manually turned around and pulled forwards by the hips. All the blood went to his face and he turned a bright red. This was normal all right. Nothing more normal than Steve being oblivious to his own words.

"It seems like you still haven't gotten over the habit of making everything sound sexual," he smiled. The hands on his hips did not help one bit.

He just grinned though, face still a shade of red. He nuzzled his nose against Steve's cheek and took his hand, leading him towards the bedroom. Phil could feel the larger man dragging behind him, he was on the brink of passing out by now. He didn't even hide it well in the car.

They got to the bedroom and Coulson closed the door behind them quietly. He took the jacket off of Steve's shoulders first, and then his own. He shed his belt and tie before pulling back the blanket for the two of them and laying down. The captain seemed to follow almost robotically, which didn't surprise Phil. He tucked them both under the sheets and moved close to Steve.

"I love you." he said, smile spreading across his face. He said it- he finally said those three words.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..." Phil repeated happily into Steve's chest.

He closed his eyes and focused on the warmth of his partner, the soft feeling of the bed. He let his mind wander, listening to the whisper of a good future. Things, it seemed, had finally gone his way.

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Fall At Your Feet

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Steve didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the agent. He nodded forward, resting his forehead on the top of Phil’s head. He hugged the shorter man close, drinking in the feeling of having him there again. Strange, how a week without him could feel like a lifetime. He barely noticed as the security guards began dispersing, convinced, it seemed, that they had no further business there.

“I want you to stay. I didn’t want to be selfish, but I wanted so badly for you to say that you would,” he said quietly. “I’m hoping that this is the end of it and I won’t forget anything else, but if I do, I’ll do my best to come back to you, too.”

He prayed his mind and body were straightened out for good. While he was overjoyed to learn that Phil would stand by him regardless, he wasn’t sure he could stand hurting the agent again, whether it was once or one-hundred times more. It wasn’t something he wanted to put Phil through.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. You kept your promise, right? I woke up and you can say it to me now,” Steve informed him. He sighed wearily, speaking softly. “Will you come home with me?”

Relief and happiness flushed the adrenaline out of system, leaving only his aches and exhaustion in its wake. He had no desire to linger in the airport any longer. He wanted to go home, to pull the agent into bed with him, kiss him senseless and hold him close so he could sleep. If he had Phil in his arms, maybe then he could sleep without fear of who he might be when he woke up.

"Yes," Phil murmured into his chest, content. "Let's go home." He took his time in letting go of Steve's torso, making sure to breath in his scent before doing so. He grasped the other's hand and carefully tugged him towards the exit, making sure that he couldn't collapse. The captain was pale and wobbly-looking enough to probably fall over any second now. The agent was going to make sure that didn't happen until they got home.

Then the man in the suit came jogging over, losing breath and holding Coulson's suitcase. He called out to the man and he turned around. "Sir, will you be taking the flight?" he called from across the lobby. The agent shook his head and squeezed Steve's hand a bit, assuring him that he wasn't leaving. "No. I'm going home, you can have the suitcase delivered back to my office." His voice emphasized the word 'home' like it was the best sound in the world.

At this moment, it may as well have been. He was going home.

Phil took the two of them out of the building and got a S.H.I.E.L.D. car to pick them up, telling the agent to take the motorcycle back to the base. He assured Steve that it would be taken care of. At the moment, Coulson was more wary of taxis-- he had something to protect at the moment.

Soon they were back at the captain's apartment and they were heading up the elevator. It felt... nice- like normal. Phil liked it.

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Fall At Your Feet

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It was a testament to how poorly Steve was faring that he was overwhelmed by the security guards. As it was, his head was aching and the room was spinning without a dozen or so people on top of him. He breathed a sigh of relief when they retreated on the agent’s orders and sat himself up, trying to blink the stars out of his vision. He stared up numbly at the agent before he jumped to his feet.

“Phil!”

So, jumping straight up had not been the best decision. His vision grayed at the edges and he swayed slightly, but kept himself upright by sheer force of will. The after effects from the toxin and the anti-toxin could wait; they needed to talk. He stood for a moment, just taking in the sight of the man before him. How could he word all of this? Two weeks had flipped them both on their heads. How could he undo that?

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I forgot you. I forgot everything. But I remember now. It all came back, somehow, and I know that even if I never meant to, I hurt you.”

He paused, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. He didn’t know how this would go.

“Look, I’m… I don’t know what’s going on with me. I don’t know if I’ll go to sleep and wake up a different person again. There’s a chance that I might,” Steve explained lowly. “If you want to go, I’m not going to stop you. That’s your choice. But as I am now, I love you and I’m sorry I hurt you. I just need you to know that.”

He wanted to sleep. His body was begging him for it, but he wanted to put it off as long as possible. His head was rattled and he was… afraid of losing everything again. He didn’t like admitting when he was afraid, and he’d keep this to himself, but it didn’t stop that fear.

All of the things about Steve letting him go if he wanted to turned into background static as Phil's mind repeated one thing over and over like a broken record. It was like he was trying to burn it into his head.

Steve remembered him.

"Steve..." he breathed, utterly speechless. For a second, he didn't know what to say. For the past few days he had been thinking and dreaming about what he would say to the man if he got the chance to rewind time, but now all of that was gone. No long speeches about being sorry, no trying to redeem himself by saying that one 'I love you' over and over, no nothing for a moment.

Then Phil didn't think at all. He grabbed Steve and pulled him into an embrace, burying his face into the man's shirt. Dear God, how he missed him. The agent's eye stung as he threatened to tear up at any moment because he was just to relieved, so happy. In the back of his head, he knew that the man's fears might be true and have a reason, but he put those thought away for the moment because he remembered. Steve remembered and he was so happy.

"I thought I had lost you," he whimpered into Steve's shirt so only he could hear. No security guards were going to hear the next things he was going to say if he had anything to do about it. "I never even got to say 'I love you'. It hurt so much when you woke up and I hadn't even told you. I don't care if you forget me tomorrow or the day after, I'll always stay with you. I'll just keep coming back to you, Steve. I'm so sorry."

Phil would stay with him, now that he knew there was hope. Even if the man woke up the next morning and didn't remember a thing, then he would just create new memories with him. All he needed was a sign, some sort of miracle, that said that there was still a chance. Yet the agent was determined to make sure he never forgot again.

((Sorry about the multiple reposts, something is being weird and I had to redo it, sorry.))

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Fall At Your Feet

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Steve ran as fast as his legs could carry him, which was actually frighteningly fast. He was running on fumes at the moment, his head aching and spinning, but his determination to get to Phil beat those out by a mile. He wasn’t going to stop until they were standing face to face, no matter what it took.

It occurred to him that he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. How do you apologize for this kind of thing? He certainly hadn’t done it on purpose, but he’d hurt Phil. He’d forgotten him. There was no taking it back, but he needed to let the agent know that he would if he could. That he’d never meant to hurt him. That it was killing him that he had.

Later, he would probably feel bad about blasting through security, leading the guards to chase him like hounds after a fox, but at the present moment, it barely registered as a concern. It’s not like they could catch up to him anyway. He broke out into a cold sweat when he heard the announcement for the flight boarding at gate E2 and willed himself to move faster. He came to a screeching halt at the gate, looking around hurriedly. His eyes eventually found Phil, next in line to hand in his boarding pass.

“Phil!”

The cry had been abominably loud, impossible to miss. He stood waiting for the man to turn around… and suddenly found himself under a pile of security guards.

Phil came to an immediate stop. He thought he heard Steve’s voice calling him. It pulled and tugged on him and cried for the agent to turn around but… that was impossible. The captain had lost his memory, he wouldn’t come here. It was completely and utterly impossible, he was probably hearing things.

Yet, that was too loud to be made up. Even the man waiting for him at the plane reacted and Agent Coulson couldn’t help but whip around— just in case! He knew not to expect anything or else his hopes would be dashed yet in that moment he thought that maybe, just maybe, something would go his way.

Phil turned around just in time to see a Steve Rogers getting overwhelmed by a squad of security guards.

He didn’t think, he didn’t hesitate. The agent dropped his suitcase and ran back towards the building. He heard the man waiting at the plane calling for him, but he didn’t care. Steve was here- he came for him. Maybe— just maybe, something was going his way. Maybe there was a miracle and he remembered Phil.

But memories gained or not, he needed to see him.

Agent Coulson pushed the door open and didn’t waste any time in giving orders. “Stand down!” he barked, command loud and laced with a hint of punishment if not listened to. All the guards about to or holding down Steve Rogers stopped in their tracks and hesitantly let the intruder go.

The agent marched up to the group, face hard and professional. “Do you know who this is?” he asked, answering himself too quick for anyone to say anything. “This is Captain America! Show some respect!”

Immediately, all of the security guards stepped back. They looked embarrassed and ashamed at the same time, as if their mother had just chewed them out. Phil turned to Steve, face full of hope for a flicker of a moment. Then he looked to the side, remembering that he had lost his memory. He had no idea why he was here, but it wouldn’t do to start acting all chummy. Just in case.

“….. Something you need?…. Captain Rogers?” he asked, not knowing what to call him.

I think they need a time out. @ask-phil - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag