So maybe it wasn’t prison so to speak, but it was a cell – part of the bus’s own little brig. Where Alex had been shoved until the ones now in control could decide exactly what they were going to do with her. Though, had they asked her, she would have just told them to shoot her and be done with it. She was an Agent of SHIELD. And she would remain loyal to SHIELD until the end.
She didn’t even bother to look up when the door opened. What was the point? She knew who it was. And it disgusted her.
There is a typed note in a plain envelope left for Clint under his door. It reads 'Things are not what they seem. -Cheese'.
Clint isn’t even aware of hitting the ground hard, but he just drops right where he’s standing, his backside hitting the floor. That’s going to smart later, but right now, all he feels is numb and maybe a tiny bit nauseated, his head pounding as he reads the words so neatly printed there on the page. They seem innocent enough, a vague, cautionary note, but… Cheese.
There’s only one person he knows who would sign a note with that codename — and he’s supposed to have been dead for two years.
Clint jams the heels of his hands against his eyes, hoping to stem the impending flow of stinging tears, but it doesn’t help. A couple of tears leak out of the corners of his eyes, and that’s it. He’s trying to stifle a gut-wrenching sob of — relief? madness? anger? He’s not even sure what he’s feeling right now, but it’s a jumble of things.
"God damn Fury." He chokes on it, rage starting to burn in his heart. He’d been devastated when Tasha had broke the news that Coulson had died on the helicarrier that fateful day. Coulson had been more than just his handler, he’d been a good friend. He’d helped Clint turn his life around, and Clint had been grateful for that. To know that Coulson had been alive all this time… Fury had to have known. Fury had been the one to tell the Avengers that Coulson was dead, and for what? So they’d have motivation to band together and fight the Chitauri?
That was such bullshit.
"This had better not be a fucking joke." He starts to crumple the note up and hesitates, smoothing it back out. He turns it over to see if there’s anything on the back, but it’s blank, and he jams his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sigh.
Coulson’s alive, things aren’t what they seem, and Clint’s got to be patient and see what unfolds next. Oy vey.
His voice is a little wrecked as he says it, and that could be because he's trying to hold back a flood of tears. Just a few short years ago, he wouldn't have thought to tell Phil that; he would have assumed that Phil somehow knew he felt that way.
It was only after the Battle of New York, when the newly formed Avengers had finally been able to catch their breath over some shawarma, that Tasha had taken him aside and told him what happened to Phil. It had hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, stealing his breath and leaving him stunned and fighting back tears. He'd realized then how much Phil meant to him. Sure, Phil knew that Clint had feelings for him and they'd fooled around with dating, but he'd never actually told Phil how much he cared.
Then the world had fallen apart and everything had gone to shit, and suddenly Phil Coulson was there on his doorstep, alive and well, but asking him to join his new team.
Clint hadn't needed his arm to be twisted, and they're on the Bus, sitting in Phil's office.
"I mean it, Phil. I never told you that enough before, and then I regretted it because you died." Clint shakes his head, licking his lips. "I just want you to know. I love you."
capfanboy said: Seeing you two getting along makes me ridiculously happy. Though Phil not so much.
trickster-tongue said: Pfft, Phil. And such. Work computer has minimal gifs and they are damn near all of Steve, so I have <3s instead. There are a lot of <3s in this post.
<3s are always acceptable currency around these parts. I may be gleefully rubbing my hands together. Clint is with Phil.
This started as a meme and became a PWP, established relationship, crossover fan-fiction monster between the characters Phil Coulson & Derek Hale. Now? I ship it with a fury passion. GDI.
Outside the storm raged on, and the rain fell against the steel above his head in a rhythmic melody. Despite the somber weather that continued on outside the protective shell of the plane, Derek thought that the day had been pleasant. He often found the more dreary things of life, those things that often made others feel a hint of melancholy, soothed him or made him smile. It was a rare moment that Derek found himself in a good mood and not a second away from putting a bullet in someone because they aggravated him. S.H.I.E.L.D frowned on their operatives shooting people who simply annoyed them. Had it been an approved activity, Derek often thought with amusement, then the infirmary at Nick Fury’s sector would be often full.
There was no mission, except for a simple refuel and resupply at one of the agencies many hidden outposts. The team had retired into the compound but Derek had opted to stay on the plane. Being under the ground made his skin crawl. It was an invitation to death, and wasn’t one that he wished to put out in the universe. Besides the gentle pelt of rain against the shell of the plane, it was quiet. Almost. Above his head he heard the gentle throb of a heartbeat and it made the corner of his mouth flinch.
A smile that only lasted a second.
Derek followed the beat as if drawn by it. He walked up the spiral stairs in the cargo bay and through the hatch into the dimly lit hallway of pipes and twisted corridors. A familiar path that he had grown to call home over the last half of the year while he travelled with his team. He pushed open the door to the main lounge area of the plane and through the plated glass of the nerve center could see directly into the office that the slow hammer of the older humans heart came from. Phillip Coulson, a man who had been consumed with the mysterious that surrounded his own, temporary death and resurrection and had grown passionate about the team he had assembled. Derek wondered sometimes what went through the man’s mind at times; a man who was, in a lot of ways a large child when it came to his treasures and collectables. But, when the time was right proved to be a fermentable agent in his own right. One that Derek Hale would hate to be on the bad side of when it came down to a fight. He found himself against the threshold of the office door with his arms hung loose against his side and his feet crossed at the ankle so the doorframe supported his full weight.
He didn’t say anything, because unlike most, Derek valued the quiet more than the noise. Derek simply watched as the agent looked over the data pad on his desk while his fingers rubbed idly against his forehead. It made Derek’s mind wander, made him think about where he would be in the world had Agent Coulson not intervened and pulled him through both the metaphorical and literal fire. His brow furrowed at the thought, the darker thought that started to run through his head when it had no business to be there. It tugged at his heart, and held it in a grip that made Derek suck in a breath and alert Coulson to his presence. He hadn’t meant to disturb the man.
”Derek — how long have you been there?”
”Not long,” he lied.
If Coulson believed him, the man didn’t show any signs of it. He simply turned back to his work and started to save and exit out of programs with a swipe of his finger. At first, Derek looked perplexed by it but then it faded when it dawned on him that the man had decided to give Derek his full attention. The man looked up and smiled, and not the one that the agent would fake in order to seem charming or less intelligent than he actually had been. It was real and often reserved for so few of people in the agent’s life. He didn’t need to say it. Derek knew that he was invited in, and so he pushed away from the doorframe. The door was closed behind him as he reached out for the handle and he came to stop in front of Coulson’s desk.
”You want to tell me what’s on your mind?”
Derek glanced up at the man, and frowned. He relaxed and shook his head as he took a sit at the edge of Coulson’s desk. “Nothing was - not until a second ago,” Derek said. He followed the man with his eyes as the man stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of him. Derek rolled his eyes slightly and leaned back with his palms against the desk to support him. Even when they were in private conference sometimes the man could get a little too forceful with his gaze. It annoyed Derek at times, and this had been one of them. “I just heard that someone was onboard and knew it was you so I came to bother you,” he conceded.
”I knew that much,” Coulson replied, “but I was asking about that look that was on your face just a second ago.”
Derek frowned again.
Coulson took a step closer so that Derek’s knee brushed against his thigh, and Derek rolled his tongue against his cheek as he relented. “I was thinking about my family - it happens sometimes. Weird times. How you rub at your forehead when you’re concentrating was something my uncle did.”
”Oh,” Coulson’s smile faded. “I remind you of your uncle?”
He rolled his eyes again and leaned up to reached out with one hand. His fingers curled around the side of Coulson’s neck and Derek shook his head. “I didn’t say that — and trust me, if you reminded me of Peter this wouldn’t be a thing,” Derek admitted. He pulled the man closer, and the older man came without struggle. He felt the human’s hand on his thigh, his own fingers curled against the denim of Derek’s jeans and the muscle hidden by the fabric. Derek took a slow breath and looked up at the man. “My mind just races sometime and there’s no way to quiet it down.”
”May I apply a method I find works soundly?” Coulson asked, and leaned forward to brush his lips lightly over Derek’s.
Derek returned the gentle kiss, and captured Coulson’s lips again in a more heated one. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of the man’s neck as he worked his lips against the older man’s. A soft sigh escaped between his own lips as he tasted the stale coffee on Coulson’s tongue and the heat. He pulled him closer, deepened the kiss and ran his hand down to rest at his hip as Derek moved to part them. A light chuckle escaped and he shook his head again. “What’s the method? Am I going to like it?”
Coulson smiled again, and peered into Derek’s eyes with a hooded gaze. “I’ll hope so,” he said. He felt the human’s fingers move from his thigh and brush up the denim of his jeans until they reached the zipper. Instinctively, Derek sucked in a breath and adjusted himself into a more comfortable position on the desk as he leaned back and raised his hips up. The sound of his zipper lowering was met with the creak of Coulson’s bones as the older man slowly went to his knees between Derek’s stretched legs. His own hand rested against the side of Coulson’s head and ran his thick fingers through thin strains of the man’s hair as the button of his jeans was released. He felt the relief of pressure from his jeans as the front was opened and he lifted his hips against when the agent started to tug them down around his hips. They pooled at his ankles, almost entirely forgotten by Derek as Coulson pulled back his boxers and rested them under his balls. It had been sudden; Derek would admit that. The pair of them having only exchanged the light banter before it led to this but Derek never questioned it, the small thing that slowly grew between them since they had first met. He hadn’t seen the need to. It made him feel whole again, and that all that mattered in the end.
His mind erased all thought process the moment he felt the slick of Coulson’s tongue against the shaft of his cock. He peered down and watched the man lower further down to press a light kiss against his balls before he slowly suckled them. It drove Derek insane, the feel of a warm mouth in such an intimate and private place. His resolve to keep himself upright faltered and he leaned back to lie against the desk. The feel of Coulson’s tongue worked along the curve of his shaft, which had hardened considerably in only a few short seconds. The feeling of Coulson’s strong fingers was warm, and tight as they wrapped around the base of his cock. Derek nearly whined while the man slowly pulled back the excess skin of his cock and licked around the rim of his head.
Derek bucked from the desk as the older man teased at the sensitive rim and licked against the slit to collect the precum that had settled there. The wet heat drove him to bite the bottom of his lip and moan. He heard the older man moan with him before the heat descended around his length. The agent started to bob his head, and as he did, with his free hand pushed Derek’s boxers down to join his jeans. He raised up to make the move easier but gasped out as it only proved to push his cock deeper into the tight heat of the others mouth. “Fuck,” Derek whined and shifted his weight again to rest on one side of his body. His elbow pressed hard against the flat of the desk as he opened his eyes to watch Coulson devour his cock deeper into his eager mouth. Derek’s hand rested on top of the man’s head, his fingers dug into the thick of his hair and pushed him rhythmical against his teased erection.
"Fuck!" Derek gasped. Coulson’s cheeks hollowed and the pressure against his cock intensified while the man jerked him off at the base, and the fingers of his free hand coiled sinfully around his balls. He grunted each time Coulson tugged and worked the shaft with his swollen lips. The obscene sound of the man as he slurped fueled Derek’s need of release further. He hadn’t noticed that through his half-hooded vigil over the agent that the sapphire glow of his eyes bled from his natural eye color and shadowed the socket of his eye in an intense blue. Repeatedly, Derek dragged his fingers through the thick of the man’s hair as he watched the rigid column disappear between lips that shined wet with salvia and his precum. He felt the all too familiar quiver radiate from the base of his cock and throughout his body. On impulse, Derek started to thrust his hips forward into the eager mouth. The pressure started to build and the wolf was lost to it completely as he arched his head back and moaned out the man’s name. He whined, and whimpered as he fisted the hair caught between his tight fingers. "C-Coul-Phil, I’m close - stop, I’m close."
Coulson didn’t stop, and didn't heed the warning.
The sinfully obscene slurp, curl of Coulson’s tongue, and the constant tug of talented fingers continued eagerly. Unhindered by the way Derek started to wither beneath him, Coulson sucked with ruthless abandon. He pulled up to the tip of Derek’s cock, teased the sensitive head with his lips and the light scrap of teeth; Derek lost all control. He cried out the man’s name loud enough to echo in the small office as he raised up off the table and flooded tight, warm cavern of the man’s mouth with his heated release. Derek fell back against the desk, and the man descended on his cock again which caused the wolf to spasm. Derek felt the way the man’s mouth worked against him and swallow each thick spurt of release. The feel of man’s throat working against his spent cock had Derek grasping for air to feel his lungs.
Derek lied there in a haze while the man licked away the excess salvia and cum from his shaft. There was only a small grunt that came from between his legs when Coulson raised to his feet, and another when the man pulled Derek up to kiss him. He tasted himself on the man’s swollen lips and their tongues pressed together in the firm kiss, despite the exhausted and lazy manner which Derek returned the wet press of Coulson’s lips. When they broke apart, Derek wanted to fall back down against the desk but had been thankful that the man held him upright. The wolf attempted to recover from the 'relaxation' exercise as quickly as he could manage.
"Did it work?"
Derek broke out into a lazy grin and nodded. He kissed him again and pulled the man closer to work slowly at the belt that held up the agent's slacks. "Yeah, it did -- but you should really practice what you preach."
"I have a habit of not following my own advice," Coulson said, his voice husky and cracked.
"I've noticed," Derek countered. The wolf licked his lips and slide carefully from the desk, spun them slowly around and pushed Coulson up against it as he started to sink to his own knees. "We got an hour before the others come back -- let me help you clear your mind." Derek leaned into the man's hand when his fingers brushed through his hair. The room was pungent with the smell of sex and their mingled arousal. It was a scent that only grew heavier with musk as Derek pushed open Coulson's pants and peered up at the other agent.
Outside the plane, the rain had stopped almost completely. The storm had finally started to pass them by, and Derek was grateful. The sound of rain against the shell of the plane would have drowned out Phil Coulson's moans. Something that Derek actually didn't mind breaking the quiet he embraced so tenderly.
