2. Trust

The only people who had worse luck than the Avengers were the X-Men, who specialized in what Phil thought of as incestuous mutant melodrama. Not to mention they had Wolverine, who in some bizarre way made Phil think of Mr. T (he did, indeed, pity the fools who had to put up with Logan, not that Phil was willing to put the X-Men on par with the classic A-Team television show, because after all some things were sacred).

Still, in a race for which team got screwed over the most, it was a close tie. It was something Phil appreciated keenly the first morning he woke up with Stevie in his arms, restless and warm with his head on Phil's chest. Within seconds of Phil opening his eyes, the tower alarm whooped twice and JARVIS sent out a very polite request for the Avengers to assemble. (He also promised fresh coffee and bagels. Phil wondered if that subroutine came from Tony or Pepper.)

Steve rolled out of bed perfectly composed and tightly controlled, his movements quick and economical. Phil, who had been in the Rangers and experienced his fair share of early morning musters, recognized that Stevie had effortlessly slid into Captain America. Who was searching for his pants.

"Living room," Phil said, climbing out of bed a little more slowly. He was still cautious of his left side, and he was in his late 40s anyway, so he wasn't about to go head to head with a 27 year old super soldier in a speed-dressing contest.

Steve blushed despite his no-nonsense demeanor and marched out into the living room to get dressed. Phil sat on the edge of the bed for a second, regrouping. He had hoped to spend some time that morning getting to know his "Stevie" and figuring out what, exactly, Steve Rogers wanted out of a relationship with him, but that was clearly not in the cards. Steve was already halfway to assembled and heading out of the front door.

"I'll see you in the conference room, Agent Coulson." Steve called from the living room as he left.

"I'll be there in five, Captain." Phil sighed once the door had closed. He knew what he had hoped for, but Steve running out the door without so much as a kiss good-bye was…exactly what he had figured would happen. Just with less Avenger-ing involved.

Also, he had to stop letting Barton influence his abuse of the word avenge.

---

Par for the course, the threat was from a magic-wielding clan of giant cockroaches, time travelers from an alternative future where humans had bombed themselves out of existence and left the earth for insects and Twinkies. The horse-size bugs fought kamikaze-style for three days until most of New Jersey was covered in cockroach goo (Clint asked if anyone could tell the difference) and most of the first responders (Avengers, Fantastic Four, and the National Guard) had voted to just spray the whole state with Raid.

Captain America worked with Phil to organize a quarantine of the roach survivors, agreeing that genocide was not an acceptable solution. In fact they agreed on most everything throughout the operation, from the time the battle engaged to the point where SHIELD and military helicopters were firing commercial fishing nets through the air to trap the 100 or so roach survivors. Stark leveraged his engineering skills to figure out how to pick the loaded nets up and lug the still-fighting roaches to a large, abandoned shale mining trench that they would not be able to dig out of.
As the helicopters slowly limped away with the large, squirming, full nets under them, Captain America came up beside Phil. They were standing on a rooftop that was mostly goo-free.

"Good job, Agent."

"Thank you, Captain." Phil turned to looked at him, and it hit him that while he had managed to grab cat naps along the way, Captain America had probably powered through all three days. With the serum, he could do that, but he still looked beat to hell. "You should get some rest."

"When we're done." Steve stood proud and tall, facing the sunset, looking every inch the all American hero with his shield braced on his arm as the last rays of the sun fell over him like a golden aura.

Phil clinched his jaw to resist the urge to pull out his cell phone and take a picture. "We're done, Steve. Go get some rest."

Steve twitched. "After the debriefing."

Phil narrowed his eyes. They were mostly alone, the other agents milling around packing up the communications equipment that had marked their temporary headquarters. He stepped in a little closer before speaking. "Stevie, I want you to stand down and go get some sleep."

Steve's expression stuttered through shock to arousal and then defiance. "Don't call me that here."

Phil put his hands on his hips. "We're equals in the field, Captain. But when it comes to your health and well-being, I'm in charge. You will do what I tell you to do, Stevie, and without arguing with me."

Steve's mouth dropped open. He looked around guiltily. "We can't, not here. I'm on duty."

"I just took you off duty."

"Phil," Steve hissed. "This is not how it works."

"Yes, it is. You're mine. You said so. You agreed to it. Mine, Stevie," Phil said, putting a hand on Steve's upper arm.

Steve did not flinch but it looked like a near thing. "People will know."

"Only that we're friends. No one has to know anything more than that. But I need you to do what I tell you to, in these matters. Not in the field, not when we're on the job. Not during the debriefing. But right now, you are going to stand down and go get some sleep."

"This is not how it works," Steve repeated, still looking proud and strong but with uncertainty in his voice.

"I'm sure it wasn't. Men fucked you and left you where they dropped you." Phil watched as Steve breathed in carefully through is nose and looked around to see if anyone was listening. "That's not how I work, though. I take care of my belongings. You're my boy, and I will always put you first. Stevie, stop fighting me and go get some sleep. I know there are temporary bunks one building over."

Steve worked his jaw a moment before answering, his chin pushed out defiantly. "Clint's flying the jet back to the tower."

Phil nodded, because of course Clint was flying back to the tower, without permission and without clearance. He sighed. "Then go. Sleep."

Steve nodded with a jerk and turned to leave, but Phil tightened his hold on his arm. Steve looked at his hand in confusion. "My room, Stevie. My bed. Wait for me."

Steve went bright red but nodded again, breathing carefully to tame his reactions.

Phil tipped his head as he let go. "Good boy. Take a shower but don't touch yourself, Stevie. When I say wait for me, I mean it."

Steve nodded once more and marched off.

---

Phil did not make it back to the tower until the following morning, catching a lift with a National Guard chopper that was headed back up the coast. As he meandered through the common area to get to the elevator, Tony appeared with a cup of coffee in his hand and a look on his face.

"You have something to say, Stark?" Phil sighed, loosening his tie.

"Just asking if you're on your way to your suite." He waved his cup around casually, and something about his tone made Phil's hackles go up.

"Yes. Why?"

"No reason. Just making sure you were going there, as opposed to somewhere else."

"Why would I go somewhere else?"

Stark pointed at him. "Now that is a good question. A good question to ask of anyone who might go somewhere else other than his own quarters. Say, someone who might go directly to your quarters as opposed his own suite one floor up. Not easy to confuse the two, so it leaves a guy to wondering."

"In other words, you’re a nosey bastard."

Stark paused to take a drink from his mug. "See, that is where you are wrong. The only reason I had a protocol in place for JARVIS to report 'people not where they are supposed to be' is to keep fucking Barton out of my lab. Didn't occur to me at all that it might track people slipping into each other's bedrooms." He took another drink and Phil waited him out. He did not have to wait long. "I've disabled it, if you're worried. If I'm going to spy on your sex life, I'll tell you about it upfront."

"You're too kind," Phil said as blandly as he could.

Stark shrugged, taking it as his due. Phil tried not to roll his eyes. "What is your point, Stark?"

Tony's eyes flashed, the first real hint of his feelings. "My point is that if you hurt him, in any way, you will regret it."

"You should know by now I'm not scared of you."

Stark smiled, all teeth. "No one is scared of me anymore unless I'm in the suit. You don't have to be scared of me, Agent. You fuck this up and all I have to do is whisper in Pepper's ear, 'Coulson broke Steve's heart' and trust me, your life will not be worth living."

Phil crossed his arms. "Speaking from experience?"

Stark nodded. "You bet. Just a friendly warning, man to man."

"Duly noted."

"Glad we talked. Now I have a girlfriend to go keep warm. As you were, Agent." Tony turned and walked out.

Phil snarled as he marched over to the elevator. He did not like people nosing into his business, especially when his business at the moment was Steve Rogers. By the time he got to his suite he was only marginally less pissed off, and making more noise than he intended. Phil could go into stealth mode when absolutely necessary, but unlike Barton and Romanov it wasn't a natural survival tactic. When he got mad, he tended to stomp.

He had barely put his overcoat up in the front closet when Steve appeared in the living room, wearing pajama pants that fit around the waist comfortably but were about six inches too short. Phil just stared at him.

"Everything okay?" Steve looked serious despite his rumpled hair and the pillow-case imprint on the left side of his face.

"Everything's fine, Captain," Phil answered as he finished putting up his coat, hoping to keep his distance so that Steve wouldn't pick up on his anger.

Steve shifted uncomfortably and Phil got the sudden impression that he had made the wrong move.

"Okay. Well, that's good. I, ah, got some sleep. So I'll just be going. We'll debrief with the team this afternoon—"

"Stop." Phil held up his hand. He took a breath. "Stark knows you're here. Apparently JARVIS had some protocol going to warn him when people don't go where they're supposed to."

Steve blinked, his jaw clinching. "That's an invasion of privacy."

"He knows it. He says he disabled it, but not before it told him that you came here."

Steve squared his shoulders. "I'll leave now. Let me get dressed." Steve spun and walked back to the bedroom. Phil followed at a more leisurely pace.

"A little late for that, don't you think?" Phil leaned against the doorway of the bedroom. Steve stalled, already out of the ill-fitting pajamas and one leg into a pair of pants. "Or is that what you want? To be my dirty little secret? Is that what you used to be, before?"

Steve looked at him, his eyes sparking with anger, as he moved to finish putting on the pants. "This is about the team, it's not personal."

"I asked you a question." Phil crossed his arms.

Steve mirrored his pose, still shirtless but making up for it with attitude. "You know it was. It had to be a secret; everyone knew what went on, things weren't that different, but getting caught cost many a good man his career. I kept it simple by keeping to easy tricks." He lowered his head as if getting ready to charge. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I wanted to hear whether that is still what you think you need. Stark knows, and contrary to rumor he's as good as Fury when it comes to keeping secrets, so I'm not too concerned about gossip. But if what you want is to keep this in the closet, then I'm not the man for you. I don't do that anymore. The question you need to answer for me is: do you?"

Steve held his gaze for a moment before breaking. His arms fell to his sides. "No. Not if I don't have to. I just assumed that you wouldn't want the complication."

Phil tilted his head, taking in the wary expression and guarded posture. "Stevie," he said softly. Steve closed his eyes, screwing them shut as if to ward off his emotions. "Stevie," Phil repeated, "get on your knees for me."

There was a long, quiet pause. Steve tensed up, and Phil braced for anything. If Steve tried to leave he was not going to attempt to stop him, as much as it would break Phil's heart to step aside. His first concern was Steve though, and if Steve could not handle what they were getting into, then this was his chance to walk away.

With a slow-motion shudder up his body, Steve let out a long breath and dropped gracefully to his knees, his eyes still closed.

Phil let out his own long-held breath. He crossed the room and gently touched Steve's jaw with his fingertips.

"I don't know what you want from me, Phil. This isn't anything I've done before. I don't want—"

Phil waited for him to continue, but Steve had frozen up again. "You don't want what? Us? Me?" He continued tracing the lines of Steve's face with feathery touches.

"I don't want the team to think less of me. As a man. I'm their leader, if—"

"Steve, all they have to know is that we are in a relationship. What we do here, in the bedroom, is none of their damn business," Phil snapped a bit more harshly than he intended, but he was infuriated by the social programming that drove Steve's needs and fears. Phil breathed in and out slowly, recollecting himself. "Do I get my Stevie tonight?"

Steve bit his lip, and Phil's cock twitched. Steve worried the skin until Phil pulled his lip from his teeth with gentle fingers. Steve sighed. "If that's what you want."

"Always. But what do you want?"

Steve blushed bright red. "You know."

"No, I don't. I can guess but I might get it wrong. Tell me, Steve. Tell me what you need."

The whole time, Steve had not moved his arms, but at that moment he raised one hand and placed it on Phil's sternum. "I want to be yours. I know that makes me sound like a damn girl but I want to belong to you. God, Phil…can't you?"

Phil put his hand over Steve's. "Yes, I can and I will. But that has nothing to do with being a girl or a boy. It's just me, taking care of my Stevie."

Steve surged forward, his eyes still closed, and wrapped his long arms around Phil's waist. He shoved his face into Phil's chest with a small whimpering noise. "Please, Phil."

Phil slid his fingers through Steve's perfect blond hair, reveling in the soft, silky feel of it in contrast to the solid rock of a man at his feet. "I will always take care of you, Stevie. If I can, I will."

Steve nodded against him. They remained there for a few minutes, Phil carding Steve's hair while Steve held on with steel-strong arms locked in place. Phil was ostensibly in charge but he couldn't get out of Steve's hold if he had wanted to, not using physical force. But they were building something different, there in the space they shared, touching each other—different from Captain Rogers and Agent Coulson, and even different from just Steve and Phil. As far as Phil was concerned this was an edifice he was building for Steve, a safe place for the super soldier to put down his shield and be loved and cared for. He was not as confident about what Steve might think they were doing, but he was willing to ride the boat until they hit shore.

Steve shuddered. "I wanted this, I always wanted this. Bucky took care of me but we weren't…like that," Steve said, his mouth muffled by Phil's shirt. "I wanted a home and…someone to call me Stevie, every night. Someone I could call my beloved and I thought that was Peggy but—" Steve stopped with another shudder, pressing himself into Phil so hard that Phil fought to keep his balance.

"Shhh, Stevie. Shhh. Please let me be that for you."

Steve finally pulled back a little to look up at him, confused and wrecked. "What?"

"Let me be your beloved. Please, Stevie, let me make a home for you." Phil had never wanted anything so much in his life, and his hands were shaking. "Belong to me."

Steve blinked incredulously, opened his mouth and then closed it again. After a moment he tried again. "Beloved?"

Phil took a deep breath and made his leap of faith. "Yes, Stevie?"

Steve's eyes widened as he realized what they had done. Steve closed his eyes, his hips stuttering against Phil's knees. He rubbed his face back and forth over Phil's torso like a cat.

"Stevie, I need you, baby. I need you now. Here." Phil started on his belt buckle but Steve pushed his hands away and yanked the belt off of him before nearly ripping open Phil's pants. Phil's dick was already hard, and he guided it out of the flap of his underwear. "Open. Open for me, let me in." He rubbed the tip of his cock over Steve's lips, gasping at the hot, silky feel of them.

"Yes, Beloved," Steve whispered. He opened his mouth devoutly and closed his eyes as Phil pushed in. He went slowly, not wanting to gag or hurt Stevie, but it took all of his restraint not to grab his head and face fuck him. He promised himself he would, eventually, once he knew for sure if Stevie enjoyed rough handling. But that was down the road. For the moment, Phil put two fingers under Stevie's jaw to gently close it his mouth around Phil's dick.

"Suck me. Get me off for you, Stevie. Oh, I want…I want to come in your mouth, watch it spill down your chin. God, yes, Stevie, like that!" Phil gasped as Stevie started sucking. He had crouched down to reach Phil's dick, and his ass stuck out enough that Phil could stare at the firm curves of it. "Are you hard?"

"Mmmhmmm," Stevie mumbled as he hollowed out his cheeks.

"Hard for me. Hard for your Beloved, aren't you? Fuck, Stevie, like that, just like that," Phil said, putting one hand on the back of Stevie's to guide him. Steve was not much of an expert but he was enthusiastic, sucking and bobbing his head, drool already dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Phil grabbed a handful of hair to take control and slow him down, rolling his hips for the full effect. Steve groaned into it, his hands resting lightly on Phil's thighs, his whole body shaking. Phil stared down at him, his dick running in and out of Steve's mouth in a steady rhythm. Steve was more than a porno come to life with his perfect body and beautiful face; he was pristine in his devotion, his naturally pretty looks transported not by the serum but by his expression of bliss. Phil sighed. "Oh, baby, you're so beautiful."

Steve visibly snorted but kept going. Phil yanked him back by his hair, and Steve whined but he did not say anything.

"What was that?"

"I'm a guy now, big and tough. You don't have to sweet talk me when we do this. I know what I am, what I look like." Steve tried to lean forward again. Phil's spit-slick cock hung between them.

"You don’t get to tell me what I think of you, or what I say."

Steve looked unconvinced but nodded.

"You want to finish me off?" Phil tightened his grip, pulling Stevie's hair. He knew he couldn't really hurt the man too much but Stevie winced with momentary discomfort. "Ask for it. Ask me."

"Please."

"Ask me, Stevie."

The light bulb went off and Steve looked up at him with wide open sincerity. "Please, Beloved. Let me."

Phil nodded tersely and pulled Stevie to him, letting himself sink into Stevie's submission and trust. It did not take too long after that. Steve was a quick learner—unsurprisingly—and started working his tongue up and down Phil's shaft as he sucked him. Phil began pumping his hips, shoving himself into Stevie's mouth until his orgasm snapped up and down his spine and he exploded in a flood of satisfaction. Stevie took it, gulping and moaning, fisting Phil's pants with his hands.

Phil stepped back when his dick was too sensitive to take Stevie's lapping tongue anymore. He looked down at the disheveled boy at his feet, lips swollen and eyes glazed. Phil held his jaw again with fingers. "Hey, baby, listen to me. Take your pants off and get on the bed."

Stevie nodded dumbly and reeled backwards, crawling over to the bed and then up on it. Phil thought that if he was ten years younger, that image alone would have put his dick back in the game. Sighing, he packed himself up and zipped his pants. Steve glanced up quickly from where he was stripping off his own pants. Phil raised his hands in supplication.

"I'm not leaving." He walked over to the bed and joined Steve, guiding him up the bed and onto his back. Stevie's dick was large and swollen, the head a vibrant purple. It was not too long but thick, his balls heavy with unspent cum. Steve sprawled out comfortably, only his eyes betraying his uncertainty. Phil stripped off his shirt and undershirt, leaving himself with just his pants on. He lay down on his side next to Stevie, holding himself up on one elbow as he looked down at the expanse of skin and muscles.

"Touch yourself?"

Steve blinked. "What?"

"Touch yourself." Phil demanded, making his voice hard and commanding. Stevie nodded and slowly moved one hand to his dick. "Yes. I want to watch." Phil nodded.

Stevie's eyebrows shot up in surprise but he did as he was told and started stroking himself slowly. He kept his gaze on Phil.

"You're so beautiful, Stevie. I can't even describe you. Go on, do it the way you like it. Do it for me." Phil put his free hand on Stevie's chest, rubbing and massaging his pronounced, flexing pectorals.

"Beloved!" Stevie whispered as his pace picked up. He closed his eyes and arched back. Using the momentary distraction, Phil pinched one of Stevie's nipples, and Stevie yelled out in surprise but he didn't stop stripping his dick.

Excited and turned on, it took Phil a moment to process what Stevie was doing. His hand was flying so fast it was a blur and his hips are snapping in small jerks, his breath coming fast and shallow. Frowning, Phil grabbed his hand, stopping Stevie and trapping his dick in their hands.

"Wha'?" Stevie groaned, finishing on a cut-short high-pitched whine.

"Slow down. You're safe here, no one is going to barge in and stop us. You're not doing this to get off, you're doing this to please me. Slow down." Phil leaned over and kissed him slowly. He kept it from getting too filthy despite Stevie's whimpers and demanding tongue until he could sense that Stevie had his breathing back under control. Phil pulled himself back up, but stayed leaning over him a little so he could look down directly at his face. He let go of Stevie's hand. "Slowly, Stevie."

Stevie licked his lips and started stroking himself again, this time at a languid pace. Phil smiled. "Yeah, like that." He started playing with Stevie's nipple again, making him gasp in surprise. "Did you even know that about yourself? That you like having your nipples played with?"

Steve bit his lip and shook his head, never letting up with the steady jacking of his dick.

"Your lovers really missed out, then. You're so adorable when you gasp like that."

Stevie's eyes narrowed a little but he still kept quiet.

"Adorable. Sweet. Pretty," Phil said, testing the waters. Stevie took in a huge breath, his eyes rolling back and his pacing picking up a little. Phil leaned over to whisper in his ear. "The serum didn't change that, Stevie. You're still pretty and precious and everything I ever wanted in a boy, to take care of and make love to."

Stevie gasped. Phil kissed his ear, his tongue tracing out the folds of skin, as he gave Stevie's nipple a hard twist. Stevie bucked under him but it was a short fight, and his mouth fell open with a long, heart-breaking moan as he came. His whole body shook uncontrollably and his hand twitched as he tried to keep stroking himself through it. Phil took pity and grabbed Stevie's dick, clutching it and stroking it a couple of times with long, hard movements, milking it out of him.

Stevie had started whining halfway through it, cum spilling out and striping his stomach, his jaw clinched rock hard.

"You are so beautiful. Let go, Stevie, let me see all of you," Phil whispered into Stevie's mouth. Stevie lurched up, capturing Phil in a kiss that was shaky and raw as his orgasm finally petered out. Stevie broke off, heaving for breath, his body going lax. Smiling, Phil slung one leg over Stevie's, holding him down more by his presence than by force. It worked, and Stevie opened his eyes looking dreamy and sated.

"Beloved," he said, his voice hoarse.

Phil smiled and gave him a peck on the lips. He ran his fingers through the copious amount of cum pooling over Stevie's torso, which was far more than Phil had ever seen any man pump out. "When was the last time you came?"

Stevie blushed. "Yesterday afternoon."

Phil thought back. "In the middle of the battle with the roaches?" He blinked, knowing his surprise was visible. Stevie put a hand over his face, blushing.

"It builds up. Erskine told me it might happen. I produce a lot of jizz, so I have to let the pressure off regularly."

"Uhm. How regularly?"

"Twice a day or I'm straight to blue balls." Steve kept his hand over his face. "So long battles are tough. I try to relieve myself when I use the restroom, if I get a chance. Sometimes I don't. I try to take care of it when it becomes uncomfortable." He was mumbling into his palm.

Phil kept running his fingers over Stevie's skin. "It's not as if battle jerks are a new invention."

"Yeah." Stevie blushed even harder, and Phil decided to let that history story lay quiet for the moment.

"It's okay, Stevie. But from now on you only do it when I tell you too."

Stevie moved his hand away from his face. He looked doubtful. "It builds up, sometimes, and hurts. I can't—"

"Do you trust me?"

Steve thought about it and Phil inwardly held his breath. "Yes, Beloved." Steve nodded.

Phil sighed with relief. "Then trust me to have your health as my top priority. I'm thinking sometimes you let it build up because you can't catch a break, and sometimes you take a break without letting the team know. Am I right?"

Stevie pursed his lips. "I have make those judgment calls. You know that."

"Stevie," Phil leaned over him and looked him straight in the eye. "Do you trust your Beloved, or not?"

Stevie stared back at him. "Yes."

"Then you will do what I tell you do when it comes to your health and well-being. Because you are everything to me, and I can't live with myself if I know you are in pain or risking yourself unnecessarily. I promise you, out there you are Captain Rogers and I will respect the brilliant, strong soldier you are. But under all of that you are my Stevie boy. You will either let me take care of you or you should leave now, because those are my rules."

Stevie's eyes grew wider and wider as Phil talked. Stevie stared at him in fascination. The silence went on for a while, but Stevie did not move to leave, and Phil was damned if he was going to back down. He was in love, and he knew it; it wasn't like it was something he could have put the brakes on from the first moment Steve Rogers put the moves on him. But he could not accept anything halfway, and that meant Stevie's acceptance of him as being in charge. It was what Steve Rogers had asked of him from the start, and Phil knew he would never be able to live with less.

Stevie's hands came up and bracketed Phil's face, large and warm and still smelling of sex. He kept staring, inspecting every inch of Phil's face. Finally he pulled Phil down to him and kissed him, slowly and thoroughly, breathing into it as if giving Phil a kiss of life. Phil took it passively, letting Stevie hold the reins for whatever he needed to do.

The kiss went on long enough for Phil to lose his breath and he pulled back, although Stevie did not let go of his face. "I want to be everything to you. I don't understand what you see in me but I want it. I want it all. I want to be selfish for once and just let you take care of me."

Phil smiled. "So is that a yes?"

Steve smiled in reply, his grin bright and radiant. "Yes, Beloved."