#phucky

“Look,” Sam said, and he sighed.  “All I can tell you is that he asked Stark for a private balcony, which is why he’s got those quarters.  None of us are allowed there, and JARVIS hasn’t told me anything about it, no matter how much I’ve bugged him.”

“Aw.”  Bucky glared at the ceiling balefully.  “But you’re still curious, right?”

“Not dangerously so.  And stop stealing my food!”

“Sorry, but super-soldier metabolism.”  Bucky smirked.  “You know what that’s like, right?  Oh, wait.  Ya don’t.”

Sam scowled, and reached for the bread knife.  Bucky scampered away.

“Last time I share any gossip with you, Barnes!”

 In his quarters, Bucky thought over the little information Sam had given him, and his own observations lately.

One: Sam seemed to think the room plus balcony thing was significant.

Two: Phil’s secret thing centered on Stark Tower.

Three: If he was bringing work home, he wasn’t sharing it with Barton, nor with Romanov.

Four: He wasn’t on his phone more than usual around them, so he wasn’t texting someone.

Five: He was wearing casual clothes with short sleeves.

Six: He’d made a few secret shopping trips and evaded everyone’s attempts at following him, usually resulting in lectures on privacy.

He wasn’t in any obvious communication with a possible love interest, so Bucky felt like he was still in with a chance.  He’d missed asking Phil out on Valentine’s Day since they’d all been busy with a chocolatier who’d put a mind-controlling substance into the handmade chocolate he’d sold, causing mayhem in the streets on February the 14th.  Not the best romantic atmosphere.

If Phil wasn’t in a secret relationship, what was he up to?  Did any of them have a birthday coming up?  It was too early for Fourth of July preparations.  Easter had come and gone without any hint of what Phil was doing.  If it was some kind of party planning, Phil would’ve asked for help, right?  It couldn’t be a personal surprise, so it had to be SHIELD, and pretty high level.

Bucky had wandered into the elevator without really realising it.

“Where do you wish to go, Sergeant Barnes?” JARVIS asked.  “You seem distracted.  Should I take you to Dr. Banner?”

“What?”  Bucky looked around.  “Uh, no.  I wanna see Phil.”

“He may not allow you into his apartment,” JARVIS warned.

“I know.”

As the elevator descended, Bucky wondered what kind of top-secret SHIELD assignment involved Stark Tower.  Were any of them in trouble?  Was he actually their bodyguard, not their handler?  Was it some kind of surveillance that JARVIS couldn’t access?

Was… was it Bucky?  Was the surveillance on him?

Bucky knocked on Phil’s door.  Loudly.  His fist kind of ached after it, and he winced when he noticed the dent in the wood.

“I’m coming!” Phil said.  He opened the door, and stared at Bucky.  “Can I help you, sergeant?”

“Uh…”  Phil’s sleeves were rolled up and his arms were streaked with mud.  He’d had no idea those muscles even existed, let alone on Phil.  It was hard to focus on anything else.  “Um… hi.”

“Are you alright?”

“Fine, I’m fine.  I just… wondered what you’d been doing here.”  He shrugged.  “All this secrecy… are you keepin’ an eye on me?  Is there some kind of plan in case I have a… a psychotic break, or somethin’?”

“You think I’m spying on you?” Phil said.

“I don’t know, Coulson.  You won’t tell anyone what you’re doing.  Unless there is someone you… oh.”  Darcy waved from the coffee table, where she was writing something on little pieces of paper.  “I’m sorry.  You’re… you’re busy.”

“Why don’t you just tell him, Coulson?” Darcy said.

“You call all your boyfriends by their last name?” Bucky asked her.

“Boyfriend?”

“I’m not dating Darcy,” Phil said, rolling his eyes.  “Well, come in, then.  I guess I’ll have to explain now.”

“I’ll just go put these outside,” Darcy said, standing up with a bunch of little picket signs in her hands.  “Leave you two alone.”  She winked, and sauntered towards another door.  Bucky could see the sky through the windows, so it must’ve been the coveted balcony.

“What’s with the face?” Coulson asked.  “You look like you’ve swallowed a lemon.”

“You can share your secrets with Darcy, but not the rest of us?” Bucky said softly.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Okay, maybe I am a bit jealous,” Bucky said.  “A bit.”

“What for?” Phil said, picking up a book from the coffee table.  “It’s only gardening.”

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed as Phil passed him the book.  He flipped it to the front, and saw a picture of Darcy’s grandma on the front, in the middle of a beautiful garden.  ‘Creating Your Own Urban Paradise, by Brenda Lewis.’  Bucky had seen the picture before, but he didn’t realise Darcy’s grandmother had written a book on gardening.

“I figured putting together a rooftop garden might be a bit much,” Phil said.  “And it could sustain battle damage.  But something on the balcony would be nice.  I already had the book, but I didn’t realise the family connection until Darcy showed us photos a couple of weeks ago.  So I asked her for help, since I don’t really have the gardening knack.  She’s gonna look after everything when I’m on assignment.  I guess it’d be good to have someone other than JARVIS monitoring the plants if we’re both away.”

“Oh.”  Okay, now Bucky really felt like an idiot.

“Why were you jealous?” Phil asked.

“`Cause… I wanna be involved.”

“Involved?”

“In your life.”

“We work together--”

“That’s not what I mean.  I was worried you might have a secret lover, and I wouldn’t stand a chance.  Then I thought you were spying on me, and could never be interested.  Then I thought that Darcy had already got there, and it… it felt worse.  Because she’s part of our family, and I can’t mess that up, no matter how I feel.”

“Oh.”  Phil blushed.  “There’s really only one solution.”

“What?”

Phil leaned up and kissed Bucky on the cheek.  He smelt earthy and fresh and clean, and Bucky wanted more.

“Would you like to see my garden?” he asked, and he held out his hand.  Bucky stared at it for a few seconds, dumbfounded, and then entwined their fingers together.

“I’d like that,” he said.  “I’m guessin’ I can’t give you flowers as gifts?”

Phil was breathing fast, jerking at his tie to loosen it, shrugging out of his jacket.

“Easy,” Bucky said soothingly, reaching out to touch Phil’s arm lightly. “Easy.”

Phil was biting at his lips, reddening them, his breathing coming in quick desperate pants. “Please,” he said. “Please - can I sit on your lap?”

Coulson was very sexy like this, Bucky realised, his buttoned-up, stiff facade crumbled entirely. Finding a sturdy office chair Bucky sat down in it, and almost immediately had Coulson straddling his lap, grinding desperately against him.

“Hey,” Bucky tried to say, but it came out as a grunt as Coulson mashed his mouth against Bucky’s.

That’s quite a big dose of sex pollen. Poor guy must be frantic. Instead of arguing, Bucky just shrugged mentally and reached down with his metal hand to rip Coulson’s pants to shreds, his flesh hand sliding in between them and finding - oh, wow, that was really quite an impressive erection.

Phil moaned into Bucky’s mouth as cool metal fingers traced over his ass, a strong hand wrapping around his swollen, aching cock. “Please,” he whimpered, “please.”

“I got you,” Bucky said soothingly as Phil tore his mouth away and buried his face in Bucky’s neck. “It’s okay, Coulson. Phil. I got you.”

Phil writhed against him. “Please,” he said again.

“Tell me what you need.”

“Hand. Please, your hand - I need your fingers…” even under the influence of the drug, Phil found it extremely hard to admit the kinky desires he’d been harbouring for a long time now. “Inside me.”

“Let me switch hands…”

“No. No, I want - those fingers.”

Bucky hesitated until Phil sobbed out another “Please, Bucky!” against his neck.

“Okay. If that’s what you want, but tell me if it hurts, all right?”

The sounds that came out of Phil’s mouth were the furthest thing possible from pain as Bucky gently worked in first one intricately jointed metal finger, then a second. It had to be uncomfortable without lube, but Phil threw his head back, shuddering, shouting Bucky’s name. Hot jets of his seed suddenly splattering Bucky’s hand in between them, soaking both their shirts.

“Oh Christ that’s hot,” Bucky couldn’t help but groan.

Phil groaned against his neck. “Thank you - thank you.”

“That’s okay. I’ve seen the effects of this stuff before.”

“We should get out of here.”

“Um,” Bucky said, “I’m afraid not. Because in about ten minutes, you’re going to need my help again.”

“Oh,” Phil lifted his head to look Bucky in the eyes. “Is that - is that all right?”

“Oh hell yeah. But you know what? I reckon that couch over there is a pull-out bed. And I think we’d be a lot more comfortable on that while I explore what else you find interesting about my arm.”

Phil blushed as Bucky carried him easily over to the couch. “Not just your arm,” he confessed as Bucky put him down.

“I’m really hopin’ this ain’t just the drug talking,” Bucky said as Phil pulled eagerly at his clothes, “because if this is a one-time thing I’m gonna be pretty damn disappointed.”