Fic: Eventually (NC-17, MCU, Nick Fury/Phil Coulson)
Title: Eventually
Character(s)/Pairings: Nick Fury/Phil Coulson
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M, frot, talk of past injuries, spoilers for the Avengers
Word Count: ~1750
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable here. Marvel does. I do not make any money from this.
Author Note: written for my porn table for avengers_tables, prompt "gentle".
Phil sat straight up in bed expecting to hear the alarm. But there was no beep. He looked at the clock and frowned. It was 7:02. The alarm should have gone off almost two hours ago.
“Don’t make me order you to lay back down.”
One arm came up from under the blankets and pulled Phil closer to the warm body beside him. He smiled. He couldn’t quite help himself and he didn’t think his partner cared too much either. “Hey.”
“Phil, no being cute before coffee.” Nick’s head poked out from under the blankets, along with the aforementioned arm and his lips pressed to Phil’s. “Lay. Back. Down.”
“Yes, sir.” Phil put his head on Nick’s pillow and kissed him again. He knew how hard it had been; how hard it was to pretend day after day that there was no reason he was going down to Mount Sinai every night. That he was mourning the loss of an agent, a friend… not the man he’d spent fifteen years with, who-when they were in the same apartment at the same time-made the best cup of coffee for him and usually woke him up with it. A man that, at that point, he could still have legitimately lost if things took a turn. Phil knew Nick would be able to keep the secret but he knew how hard it’d been.
Fifteen years ago, they wouldn’t have waited for the doctor’s okay. Fifteen years ago, they would have tested the limits. They would have torn each other’s clothes off as soon as Phil thought he was probably feeling up to it.
Fifteen years ago he hadn’t taken a scepter back to front through his chest though.
All Nick had asked the night before was to see the new scars. Phil’s hands shook as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. The skin was pink, shiny. The regular pinhole scars that surrounded the original wound were already starting to look white. Too stark-for lack of a better word-against his normal skin color, if he was being honest with himself.
It was a ritual by that point, after an injury. After the healing was mostly done; the stitches or staples or whatever had been used to close them up again were removed and these days, after they’d gotten the all clear from medical, they’d explore the new spot on the familiar map. They’d relearn how point A might connect to point B. Fingers, lips and tongues touched and tasted until the new mark was satisfyingly memorized.
That’s all they’d done the night before. Nothing too outrageous. Just the enjoyment of having any time at all together.
And now… Phil hummed softly and settled in next to Nick. Now they had all morning too. That never happened.
There was a presumption of going back to sleep. At least, there was for a few minutes before Nick’s lips found Phil’s and pressed lazy, slow kisses on him. Hands moved slowly, almost absently as the kisses deepened. Nick’s fingers traced slowly at the waist of his boxers and Phil felt his breath catch. “You up for this?” The words came out a little slurred and quiet; as if the man beside him hadn’t quite woken up yet.
Phil’s hand closed around Nick’s wrist. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” He smiled into the next kiss and groaned softly as Nick’s hand moved between his skin and the fabric of the boxers. “God… better than good.”
The soft chuckle in his ear let him know Nick was a little more awake than he was showing. “Good.” He nipped gently at the skin just below Phil’s ear before softly muttering against his skin all the things they didn’t say any other time. All the I missed you, I love you, I can’t lose you that they both felt only came out at times like this. Even through that though, Nick leveled him with a look. “You’re going to tell me if you’re not-“
“Nick, if you don’t touch me, I’m going to tell you where to go, how to get there and what kind of hand basket you should travel in.” He let out a breathy laugh before kissing that look off Nick’s face. “I’m fine.” He took Nick’s free hand and put it over the scar on his chest. “I’m still here.”
Nick hummed something that could have been anything from an affirmation to ‘fuck you and the horse you rode in on’. Phil was betting on the former though as Nick’s hand moved and wrapped around his cock. He groaned, suddenly realizing just how much he’d missed this as his hips moved into Nick’s touch.
He hadn’t given this much thought. There’d been more important things to do-like not dying-but now. “Nick… come on…”
He felt Nick chuckle. That was never-or always-a good sign. “I want to take my time with you.” His teeth closed over the skin on Phil’s neck and he moaned. “I’ll get you there, Phil. You know that.”
He nodded, already a little breathless when Nick’s grip tightened and his hand moved and-“Jesus fucking Christ…” The words came out on a gasp. It figured that Nick knew how to get him going; that Nick knew every button to push. It was only fair. He knew all of Nick’s buttons right back, of course. But it was hard to think of any he could use right in that moment. “Nick…”
“Breathe.” Nick’s voice was soft in his ear. “Come on. We’re too old to rush through this.” His laugh was right there, so ready. Far more ready than most people would think. “I missed you.” He could say it in that moment. With Phil clinging to him, obviously not enough blood in his brain to think too hard on it.
“I missed you too.” His hand came up, pulling Nick down to him; kissing him slowly, deeply. “Fuck… please…” His head fell back against the pillow with a huff as Nick’s hand moved away. It took a second to realize what he was doing. Nick shook his head when Phil caught on, lifting his hips and kicking off his boxers. Apparently, he’d been slightly too obviously eager, because Nick laughed before kissing him again. “You’re distracting.” It was the only excuse Phil could come up with.
His own fingers traced over the band of Nick’s pajama pants, pausing on a scar above his hip. July in some country that he was pretty sure didn’t exist anymore; some kid got a lucky shot. He remembered holding a dusty suit jacket to that spot. Telling Nick to stay with him. It wasn’t the first time, or the last that something like that had happened. It was the time, however when, during Nick’s recovery they finally stopped dancing around each other and Nick-after arguing with a doctor about the quality of care he was receiving-told Phil they were going out for dinner when he was on his feet again.
Fifteen years later, the positions reversed. Well, they’d flipped back and forth over the years, but somehow they’d managed to mostly avoid major pitfalls. Near death, or brief periods of death were rare, thankfully.
“Hey,” Nick pulled him in for another kiss. “You still with me? You look like you’re drifting.”
Phil smiled. “Yeah, sorry.” He returned the kiss. “Just taking a trip down memory lane.” His fingers traced the scar again before Nick caught his wrist and pulled it up toward his lips.
“Then I’m not doing enough to keep your attention.” Nick chuckled and kissed the inside of Phil’s wrist. That kiss broke through memories of blood and dust and sitting in hospital rooms wondering if the other was going to wake up or not. It reminded him of the time Nick did wake up, took his hand and kissed his wrist just like that.
Phil kissed him, pulling him as close as possible before running his hands down Nick’s back. “You have my full attention.” He nipped at his bottom lip and smiled. “I’m all yours.”
To anyone else, the smirk on Nick’s face would have seemed dangerous. Phil knew better. Nick rolled them over so Phil was on his back and kissed him breathless. “Damn right you are.”
He moaned softly, hips rolling up into Nick’s. Nick’s hand moved down his chest to wrap around both of them, spreading pre-come and thrusting slowly into his hand and against Phil’s cock. He groaned, Phil’s own hand reaching down to lace their fingers together and squeeze. The string of curses that left him was nonsensical at best. The other things he said-I love you, I’m sorry-were blocked out by his own growing need, and he knew that while Nick heard and remembered every word, it wouldn’t come up outside the moment.
Phil clung to his control, the fingers of his free hand digging into Nick’s shoulder as he sped his pace. “Nick… fuck… can’t wait… please!” His head fell back and he groaned; ever muscle trembling and waiting for that one moment where everything would stop. Everything that pulled at both of them all the time wouldn’t exist for that one perfect moment.
“Just a little more.” Nick’s lips pressed to his throat and Phil gritted his teeth, trying not to come. “So close.” The words were a breath against his neck and that was all it took. Phil bucked up, crying out as his body pulled tight for a moment. He kept moving on instinct, trying to pull Nick over the edge with him. It worked and Phil lifted his head, kissing him and taking in the low, growling groan that left Nick as he came.
They stayed there, hands linked together, panting for breath, sticky, Nick’s arm shaking as he held himself over Phil and they kissed lazily. “You okay?”
Phil blinked up at him and nearly laughed. “Blood pressure’s good. Still breathing. Yeah, boss. I’m okay.”
“Good.” Nick kissed him again and rolled to the side, reaching for something to clean them both up. He found a towel-or put it there before they went to bed the night before. He was always prepared after all-and before long they were cuddled up again. Nick hummed softly for a moment. “Shower?”
“Later.” Phil smiled and turned his head to catch the kiss he knew would be there waiting for him. They’d make it to the shower eventually. In that moment, Phil was more than content to lay there and enjoy the fact that there was still an eventually.
Character(s)/Pairings: Nick Fury/Phil Coulson
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M, frot, talk of past injuries, spoilers for the Avengers
Word Count: ~1750
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable here. Marvel does. I do not make any money from this.
Author Note: written for my porn table for avengers_tables, prompt "gentle".
Phil sat straight up in bed expecting to hear the alarm. But there was no beep. He looked at the clock and frowned. It was 7:02. The alarm should have gone off almost two hours ago.
“Don’t make me order you to lay back down.”
One arm came up from under the blankets and pulled Phil closer to the warm body beside him. He smiled. He couldn’t quite help himself and he didn’t think his partner cared too much either. “Hey.”
“Phil, no being cute before coffee.” Nick’s head poked out from under the blankets, along with the aforementioned arm and his lips pressed to Phil’s. “Lay. Back. Down.”
“Yes, sir.” Phil put his head on Nick’s pillow and kissed him again. He knew how hard it had been; how hard it was to pretend day after day that there was no reason he was going down to Mount Sinai every night. That he was mourning the loss of an agent, a friend… not the man he’d spent fifteen years with, who-when they were in the same apartment at the same time-made the best cup of coffee for him and usually woke him up with it. A man that, at that point, he could still have legitimately lost if things took a turn. Phil knew Nick would be able to keep the secret but he knew how hard it’d been.
Fifteen years ago, they wouldn’t have waited for the doctor’s okay. Fifteen years ago, they would have tested the limits. They would have torn each other’s clothes off as soon as Phil thought he was probably feeling up to it.
Fifteen years ago he hadn’t taken a scepter back to front through his chest though.
All Nick had asked the night before was to see the new scars. Phil’s hands shook as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. The skin was pink, shiny. The regular pinhole scars that surrounded the original wound were already starting to look white. Too stark-for lack of a better word-against his normal skin color, if he was being honest with himself.
It was a ritual by that point, after an injury. After the healing was mostly done; the stitches or staples or whatever had been used to close them up again were removed and these days, after they’d gotten the all clear from medical, they’d explore the new spot on the familiar map. They’d relearn how point A might connect to point B. Fingers, lips and tongues touched and tasted until the new mark was satisfyingly memorized.
That’s all they’d done the night before. Nothing too outrageous. Just the enjoyment of having any time at all together.
And now… Phil hummed softly and settled in next to Nick. Now they had all morning too. That never happened.
There was a presumption of going back to sleep. At least, there was for a few minutes before Nick’s lips found Phil’s and pressed lazy, slow kisses on him. Hands moved slowly, almost absently as the kisses deepened. Nick’s fingers traced slowly at the waist of his boxers and Phil felt his breath catch. “You up for this?” The words came out a little slurred and quiet; as if the man beside him hadn’t quite woken up yet.
Phil’s hand closed around Nick’s wrist. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” He smiled into the next kiss and groaned softly as Nick’s hand moved between his skin and the fabric of the boxers. “God… better than good.”
The soft chuckle in his ear let him know Nick was a little more awake than he was showing. “Good.” He nipped gently at the skin just below Phil’s ear before softly muttering against his skin all the things they didn’t say any other time. All the I missed you, I love you, I can’t lose you that they both felt only came out at times like this. Even through that though, Nick leveled him with a look. “You’re going to tell me if you’re not-“
“Nick, if you don’t touch me, I’m going to tell you where to go, how to get there and what kind of hand basket you should travel in.” He let out a breathy laugh before kissing that look off Nick’s face. “I’m fine.” He took Nick’s free hand and put it over the scar on his chest. “I’m still here.”
Nick hummed something that could have been anything from an affirmation to ‘fuck you and the horse you rode in on’. Phil was betting on the former though as Nick’s hand moved and wrapped around his cock. He groaned, suddenly realizing just how much he’d missed this as his hips moved into Nick’s touch.
He hadn’t given this much thought. There’d been more important things to do-like not dying-but now. “Nick… come on…”
He felt Nick chuckle. That was never-or always-a good sign. “I want to take my time with you.” His teeth closed over the skin on Phil’s neck and he moaned. “I’ll get you there, Phil. You know that.”
He nodded, already a little breathless when Nick’s grip tightened and his hand moved and-“Jesus fucking Christ…” The words came out on a gasp. It figured that Nick knew how to get him going; that Nick knew every button to push. It was only fair. He knew all of Nick’s buttons right back, of course. But it was hard to think of any he could use right in that moment. “Nick…”
“Breathe.” Nick’s voice was soft in his ear. “Come on. We’re too old to rush through this.” His laugh was right there, so ready. Far more ready than most people would think. “I missed you.” He could say it in that moment. With Phil clinging to him, obviously not enough blood in his brain to think too hard on it.
“I missed you too.” His hand came up, pulling Nick down to him; kissing him slowly, deeply. “Fuck… please…” His head fell back against the pillow with a huff as Nick’s hand moved away. It took a second to realize what he was doing. Nick shook his head when Phil caught on, lifting his hips and kicking off his boxers. Apparently, he’d been slightly too obviously eager, because Nick laughed before kissing him again. “You’re distracting.” It was the only excuse Phil could come up with.
His own fingers traced over the band of Nick’s pajama pants, pausing on a scar above his hip. July in some country that he was pretty sure didn’t exist anymore; some kid got a lucky shot. He remembered holding a dusty suit jacket to that spot. Telling Nick to stay with him. It wasn’t the first time, or the last that something like that had happened. It was the time, however when, during Nick’s recovery they finally stopped dancing around each other and Nick-after arguing with a doctor about the quality of care he was receiving-told Phil they were going out for dinner when he was on his feet again.
Fifteen years later, the positions reversed. Well, they’d flipped back and forth over the years, but somehow they’d managed to mostly avoid major pitfalls. Near death, or brief periods of death were rare, thankfully.
“Hey,” Nick pulled him in for another kiss. “You still with me? You look like you’re drifting.”
Phil smiled. “Yeah, sorry.” He returned the kiss. “Just taking a trip down memory lane.” His fingers traced the scar again before Nick caught his wrist and pulled it up toward his lips.
“Then I’m not doing enough to keep your attention.” Nick chuckled and kissed the inside of Phil’s wrist. That kiss broke through memories of blood and dust and sitting in hospital rooms wondering if the other was going to wake up or not. It reminded him of the time Nick did wake up, took his hand and kissed his wrist just like that.
Phil kissed him, pulling him as close as possible before running his hands down Nick’s back. “You have my full attention.” He nipped at his bottom lip and smiled. “I’m all yours.”
To anyone else, the smirk on Nick’s face would have seemed dangerous. Phil knew better. Nick rolled them over so Phil was on his back and kissed him breathless. “Damn right you are.”
He moaned softly, hips rolling up into Nick’s. Nick’s hand moved down his chest to wrap around both of them, spreading pre-come and thrusting slowly into his hand and against Phil’s cock. He groaned, Phil’s own hand reaching down to lace their fingers together and squeeze. The string of curses that left him was nonsensical at best. The other things he said-I love you, I’m sorry-were blocked out by his own growing need, and he knew that while Nick heard and remembered every word, it wouldn’t come up outside the moment.
Phil clung to his control, the fingers of his free hand digging into Nick’s shoulder as he sped his pace. “Nick… fuck… can’t wait… please!” His head fell back and he groaned; ever muscle trembling and waiting for that one moment where everything would stop. Everything that pulled at both of them all the time wouldn’t exist for that one perfect moment.
“Just a little more.” Nick’s lips pressed to his throat and Phil gritted his teeth, trying not to come. “So close.” The words were a breath against his neck and that was all it took. Phil bucked up, crying out as his body pulled tight for a moment. He kept moving on instinct, trying to pull Nick over the edge with him. It worked and Phil lifted his head, kissing him and taking in the low, growling groan that left Nick as he came.
They stayed there, hands linked together, panting for breath, sticky, Nick’s arm shaking as he held himself over Phil and they kissed lazily. “You okay?”
Phil blinked up at him and nearly laughed. “Blood pressure’s good. Still breathing. Yeah, boss. I’m okay.”
“Good.” Nick kissed him again and rolled to the side, reaching for something to clean them both up. He found a towel-or put it there before they went to bed the night before. He was always prepared after all-and before long they were cuddled up again. Nick hummed softly for a moment. “Shower?”
“Later.” Phil smiled and turned his head to catch the kiss he knew would be there waiting for him. They’d make it to the shower eventually. In that moment, Phil was more than content to lay there and enjoy the fact that there was still an eventually.