10. Chapter 10

Steve was hopelessly in love with Agent Phil Coulson by the time Phil was released from the medical floor of the tower and allowed back to his own suite. Steve had spent days doing his own SHIELD work remotely by Phil's bedside (because an op gone wrong apparently took three times as much paperwork than one done right). They had spent most of the week talking about life, and work, and sometimes making out. Steve was quite pleased with that last part, given how little kissing he had opportunities for in the past. Even with the few (very few) lovers he had been intimate with, things had been fast and hurried and more about fumbling clothes in the dark than sweet kisses and nuzzling. His goodbye kiss to Peggy had really been the first time he kissed with romantic intent, as far as Steve was concerned, so catching up with Phil was exciting.

It excited him in other ways, too, but Phil was still mostly on bed rest for at least another week, with stern warnings not to do anything "stressful." Phil looked so mournful at that, Steve had laughed.

"It affects you to," Phil said, tucking the sheets around himself after the doctor had left.

"I guess. Nothing I haven't lived without for a long time already, and I'm happy with this. I'd rather you get well." Steve went back to tapping in information on the RQS-43r form. It seemed like a lot of hoo-ha to go through for some new office pens, but they were listed under "lethal weapons" in the SHIELD supply catalog and that meant they were as much trouble as ordering live grenades.

"You really are, aren't you?"

Steve looked up. Phil was staring at him, his eyes full of surprise and awe.

"I mean, you're happy with just this." Phil pointed at where Steve had set up his "portable office" next to Phil's bed.

"I'm happy with you," Steve stressed.

Phil shook his head and laughed. "Okay."

Steve pushed his folding tray aside, figuring it was as good a time as it ever would be. And if they weren't on the same page, it was better to know that, whatever the repercussions. "Phil."

Phil's expression turned serious. "Yes?"

"Dating isn't new, you know. People dated when I was a kid, and Bucky was always dragging me out on double dates with dames he met somewhere or other. So if you want to date, we can do that. But I've got to tell you, this is kind of a big deal for me. It's more than dating. We're together, that's how I see it. For good."

Phil blinked, opened his mouth and shut it again. "We hardly know each other."

"I think you know me better than anyone else. And I know you enough to know what I want." Steve got up from his chair to sit on the edge of Phil's bed. "A lot of guys I knew during the war, they got married fast. Maybe the pressure of war got to 'em, but I think it's because they knew a good thing when they saw it. They didn't hem and haw about this girl or that girl. They found the one they wanted and they married her. Guys like Bucky were never going to settle down, war or no war, but the guys that wanted to, well, they did." He gently took Phil's hand in his and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. "I've found my guy, and that's you."

Phil continued to look shell shocked for a while before squeezing Steve's hand. "Steve Rogers, did you just propose to me?"

"Yep." Steve nodded easily, trying to hide his heart thumping in his chest.

Phil nodded back at him. "Okay." He sounded breathless and his heart monitor was picking up a pace.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Wow, I think I had this all planned out when I was about six." He snapped his mouth shut and went scarlet. "I mean, what I meant to say—"

Steve leaned over to kiss him but they both ended up laughing too hard, and instead held each other close, cuddling until a nurse came in and clucked at Steve for elevating Phil's blood pressure.

A few days (and a few more make-out sessions) later, Phil was cleared to go back to his own quarters, although he was still out on sick leave. But even through his excitement about escaping medical, Phil was sharp. "I'm going up ten floors. I don't need to change clothes." He eyed the outfit Steve was holding, khaki trousers and a soft green turtleneck. Clint had actually chosen it out of Phil's closet, insisting that Phil wore the outfit a lot during "down time."

"Er," Steve said, frowning.

Phil frowned back at him.

Pepper saved Steve by walking in. "You're not changed yet!"

"Why are you here?"

Pepper, too used to Tony's abrasive ways to be even slightly phased by a grumpy Phil Coulson, clucked at him. "Because Avengers' PR is only a minor, but incredibly important, part of my ever-expanding job description." She grabbed the turtleneck and shook it out. "Ohhhh, this is nice. Perfect, Steve!"

"What have you done?" Phil turned on Steve.

"It's a press conference, Phil, not the end of the world." Pepper sighed. "Did you honestly think the SHIELD liaison for the Avengers was going to be released from medical without a press conference? We give press conferences when Tony gets a damn hangnail. Get dressed." She stomped out.

Phil continued to glare at Steve, who shook his head. "You know she's right."

"I'm supposed to be on the down low," Phil snapped as he took the turtleneck and pulled it over his head.

"I don't even know what that means. Put your pants on." Steve handed the trousers over and Phil slipped into them awkwardly.

Steve managed to play it cool and collected as he bustled Phil into a wheelchair and then down the elevator to the floor where Pepper had set up the press conference. Cameras started clicking as soon as they walked into the large conference room. The reporters and photographers were all cordoned off from where the Avengers were gathered, and Stark security was around to keep people from getting pushy. Steve wheeled Phil, who was looking incredibly bland and forgettable, into the middle of the group. He leaned down. "Stop that. You can't disappear in this crowd."

With a twitch of his lips, Phil straightened up in the chair and transformed into Senior Agent Phil Coulson, Official Avengers Liaison, hard-shelled and serious and not to be messed with. Clint glanced at Steve and rolled his eyes.

Tony, of course, opened the proceedings with a dramatic and highly edited version of how Phil had come to get injured, making it sound more like an Indiana Jones movie than a SHIELD op that went FUBAR. Thor, Bruce, Natasha, Pepper and Jane stood around looking dignified and relieved, nodding along, while Clint continued to roll his eyes and get jabbed in the ribs by Natasha.

Tony eventually turned the microphone over to Phil, who answered most questions with "that's classified" and "I'm fine."

After a few minutes, Pepper broke in. "Okay, this is wrapping up. We have a statement from Captain America, and there will be no questions after that." She handed the microphone to Steve. Bruce reached over and patted him on the back.

Phil looked up at him, his worry evident in the crinkled skin around his eyes.

Steve took a deep breath. "Thanks for being here. I have a lot to say, but I think I'm going to skip that part and move on to the important stuff." He handed the microphone to Clint. Moving around in front of Phil, to one side because he wanted there to be no mistaking with anyone there what he was doing, Steve got down on one knee and pulled the box he had been hiding out of his jacket.

Phil sat frozen in the chair, his expression completely blank. Steve tried not to take that as a bad sign, because they had already talked about doing this. He was pretty sure this was just a formality. Almost positive, even.

His hands shook as he opened the box which held a flat gold band engraved with the Captain America shield (that had also been Clint's idea, and Steve was going to kill him personally if Phil didn't like it). Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the sounds behind him of the reporters going crazy. Clint held the mic low so it would pick up Steve's voice.

"When you got injured it reminded me how lucky I am that either one of us is alive, and how important you are to me. Anything could happen, and I know we already sort of talked about this but I wanted it to be official, so everyone would know and understand how happy being with you makes me. For however long we've got, Phil Coulson, will you marry me?"

Steve felt a quiet hush descend upon the room like a stone on his back. He held out the ring, just the way he had always seen guys do in the movies, and kept looking directly at Phil's face.

Phil reached out with one hand and traced his cheek with soft fingers. "Where angels fear to tread, Captain Rogers?"

"I know a good thing when I've got it, Agent Coulson. Say yes."

Phil smiled and nodded. "Yes, Steve."

"Oh thank God, Phil!" Relief flooded him and he leaned forward, kissing Phil passionately, although that had not been on his game plan. He almost dropped the ring box. "Oh!" He sat back and pulled out the ring with shaking fingers. "I don't know, is it okay?" He glanced between Phil and Pepper.

She smiled. "It's more like an engagement ring. You can always do it again later. Go ahead."

Steve grabbed Phil's hand and fumbled as he tried to slip the ring on. "Damn it."

"Shhhh," Phil said, his other hand rubbing along Steve's. Together they got the ring on. Phil stared at it. "You put the shield on it?"

Steve manfully tried not to cringe. "Yes?"

Phil lunged forward and kissed him. Behind them, Pepper and Clint were yelling at reporters and several were being dragged out by security (or possibly Natasha) and Steve thought he heard Thor crying. The place could have burned to the ground, and in fact he considered his "coming out" as something close to a scorched earth policy for his reputation, and his legend.

But he didn't give a single damn, because he knew there would never be a day he wasn't falling in love with Phil Coulson.