Steve Rogers (do_this_all_day) wrote in chances_rpg, @ 2023-03-18 20:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | mcu: phillip coulson, mcu: steve rogers |
Who: Phil Coulson and Steve Rogers
Where: Phil's apartment
When: March 3, sometime after this
What: Phil gets Steve drunk shares a drink with a friend
Rating/Warnings: Steve swears. | Spoilers for Season 5 of Agents of SHIELD
Status: Completed via GDocs
Phil still hadn’t mastered the wizarding powers he’d found himself, but he had at least managed to not have them go off accidentally. Which was, at least, an improvement over the first day. Still, he didn’t feel confident in using the wand very often.
He’d been meaning to catch up with Steve since arriving, and well, it wasn’t that he was trying to take advantage of Steve’s powerless state, but he did think the other man would enjoy the scotch more in this form. The single malt scotch was set out on the coffee table and Phil answered the doorbell when it rang. “Hey Steve. Good to see you. Come on in.”
"Hey, pal." Steve's smile was as unfettered as it could get, considering everything, but was no less warm despite his concerns. "Sorry we haven't been able to do this sooner, but if this isn't a lemonade from lemons situation, I don't know what is."
Truth was, he was ecstatic to find out his old friend was both here and had somehow cheated death, but Phil's presence brought up a host of bitter feelings toward Fury and SHIELD that Steve needed to unpack before he felt like he could meet face to face. Just another in a long line of emotional manipulations. Nick Fury had that particular skill down to an art form. "It's really good to see you again in person, Phil. Wasn't a thing I thought I'd ever get to do again."
Phil greeted Steve with a hug, which he realized belatedly might be too much for the other man, but well, dying twice made you a bit sentimental. Leading him in towards the living room, which was remarkably free of Captain America merchandise and paraphernalia unlike his quarters back home, Phil poured two glasses of scotch and handed one to Steve.
“I know how it goes. Bugged the hell out of me that I wasn’t allowed to tell any of you that I was alive, after Nick brought me back. Glad most of you are here at least.” And hey, even if he still was a bit of a fanboy, he managed to get those words out without blushing. He clinked his glass against Steve’s. “Well, to old friends and new adventures.”
While the hug had been a surprise, Steve didn't hesitate to return the gesture, brief though it was. He also followed the agent—former agent?—inside and sat where indicated, taking the glass and toasting him. "Cheers to that. And to being here, even if here is really bizarre sometimes."
The burn of the scotch was familiar, but the spreading warmth actually lingering was new. He smiled at the sensation, but made a mental note to take it slow. It may have been several decades, but he still remembered what a hangover felt like. "I saw you talked to my Tony? And he warned you away from getting me smashed? I'll attempt to hold my liquor."
“I only promised to keep you from doing anything stupid. So no touching Lola and if necessary, I make you sleep here and Tony can pick you up in the morning.” Phil took a long sip of his scotch, familiar and experienced enough with it that he didn’t worry as much about pacing himself. But scotch like this was meant to be sipped, not chugged.
“Speaking of, your Tony, huh? That was a bit of a surprise.”
"If Buck was with us, he'd tell you I'd already taken all the stupid with me." Steve chuckled, and it felt free. Because Bucky was in this weird little place right along with him. And while his best friend wasn't exactly the same man that Steve had known before he was pulled here, decades of friendship meant that nothing had fundamentally changed between them. Not even HYDRA could take that away from them.
He almost choked on his mouthful of alcohol, and it burned up through his nose enough to leave at least red faced, if not coughing outright. "Ah, yeah. It surprised me, too. Not really my first experience, 'cause, y'know, wartime and all, but they probably leave those bits out of the history books. He's a great guy. And definitely not enough like the Tony we know to make it awkward. What about you? Did you ever get back with your cellist after your miraculous return from the dead?"
Phil chuckled. “Not sure I’d agree with Barnes’ assessment. Although you do have the stupid heroics down pat.”
Phil had read a lot about Steve Rogers. Both public and confidential knowledge. But people tended to get weird if you told them you’d memorized their SHIELD file. Best to keep that to himself. “I’m happy for you. Everyone deserves the chance to be happy.”
Phil took a long slow sip of the whiskey, staring at his glass. “Little complicated to explain to an S.O. that rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated. Did end up saving her life again. So I saw her again, at least, which was nice.” Although they’d been careful so that Audrey wouldn’t see him.
He swirled the scotch around in his glass. “May and I - Agent Melinda May, not sure you ever met her - we danced around each other for years after I died. Hard to really have a relationship when you’re doing all that. Finally got together towards the end.” It hadn’t been enough time, but it never would be. That was just how it was when you promised your life to a secret organization.
Steve ducked his head, the apples of his cheeks probably going a little pink, if the heat in his face was any indication. He really was happy, but sometimes it felt like if he talked about it too much, it would get taken away. This was patently absurd, and he knew it, but it didn't keep the feeling from being firmly lodged in his chest. He could have said something twee about Phil getting a chance, too, but it seemed like little more than empty air, so he kept it to himself.
"Ah, yes, the whole 'clearance' of it all. I remember those days. I'm glad you were able to help her, though. Maybe got some sense of closure, I hope?" What did Steve know about it, really; his life had been under a media microscope both before and after going into the ice. He could commiserate, however.
He took another sip. It burned nicely all over again, leaving him with a satisfied smile that only deepened when he actually recognized the name. "No shit—the Cavalry? I never had the pleasure or honor, but I remember seeing her name in a few mission reports that Fury floated my way now and again." Steve sobered a little. Towards the end. His brow crumpled. "Wait, you said something about Rapunzel helping you so we wouldn't lose you again. Phil, what the hell happened?"
“Some,” Phil said quietly. “It was nice to see her again, know she was okay and know her stalker wouldn’t bother her again.”
In a different life, maybe things could have gone differently. But that was another universe. At Steve’s mention of Melinda’s nickname, a goofy, fond smile spread over Phil’s face. “Yeah, Melinda’s a force to be reckoned with. Could kick my ass blindfolded and with her arms tied behind her back.” And yet he was still smitten. Thoroughly and completely.
Ah, right. He did tend to be cavalier about dying and the numerous near death experiences, he’d been through. “There were some side effects from the formula that brought me back.” And a deal with a demon of vengeance. He reached for the bottle of whiskey. “Can I top you off?”
That last remark about Phil's former paramore made Steve frown, but in that vague manner that probably conveyed impotent concern for a problem long since handled. Still, he made a small grunt of acknowledgement and a nod for a job that sounded like it had been neatly done.
He couldn't help but smile at the warmth displayed by Phil's recollection, but it was lanced with regret for the other man. Because Melinda May wasn't there, and who knew if she'd arrive. There was really no telling who came and stayed and who eventually went. "Too bad I never got the opportunity to do an op with her. She definitely sounds like someone I would've loved to have at my back. I bet she and Natasha could exchange a story or two. Or take down a couple of world governments before drinks."
Steve's mouth curled after a moment of waiting for Phil to say more. "That's some nice evasion there, Coulson, but I recognize a man who doesn't want to delve into the the details, and I respect it." He held out his half empty glass with a knowing smile. "Sure, why not? Assuming I get my abilities back soon, I don't know when I'll get the chance to get drunk again."
“She’s… amazing. But it’s entirely possible I have a thing for idolizing women who can kick ass - Peggy, Nat, Melinda… I have a type.” Phil topped off Steve’s glass before topping off his own. He appreciated Steve giving him an out if he wanted it. But considering how much he knew about the other man, perhaps he owed him some aspects of his own life. Or death. Or whatever.
“The serum… Fury created it in case we ever needed to bring an Avenger back from the dead. But, it was made from Kree blood… and it wasn’t perfect. The process itself was torture. So they wiped my memory of it. And the side effects… It… I went crazy. That’s a much longer story, though. And then well, Robbie - Ghost Rider - er, possessed by a demon from hell… I made a deal to save the world. You know how it goes.”
Phil took a long sip of the whiskey. “Basically gave him myself in exchange. Which undid everything the serum did. So the last few years have been slowly dying from that wound again. Didn’t tell my team right away - which caused some problems. Eventually they found a serum that could help stabilize me… but we needed it to neutralize a threat and save the world. So, I retired again. And left the team - Daisy, Fitz and the others - to spend my last days in Tahiti with Melinda… and then I found myself here. Where luckily Rapunzel managed to patch me up.”
"Oh," Steve said after all that while he tried to coax his eyebrows back to their original positions. "Jesus. And I thought my team didn't do much by halves." Granted, the Avengers were way more prone to being thrust into the limelight. Hell, he had no idea that Phil was still alive and SHIELD had been reestablished after Project Insight and the destruction of the Triskelion. He'd been busy splitting with Tony and forcing his own friends to go on the run. "She's a great gal, Rapunzel. We're lucky to have her. And you."
This time, he took a much deeper drink, because his brain was still trying to digest all the info he'd been given. "Can we circle back to this Ghost Rider, demon from hell business? Just for a sec, 'cause I gotta say, that's a new one on me, and I've been to space and fought alongside gods and aliens. What's it like, being a Ghost Rider?"
Phil smiled at Steve, grateful for the sentiment and chuckled at the comparison of their teams. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. Any of you. Fury thought it was for the best and then well, after a while it just seemed like it would cause more trouble.”
“It’s… letting the Spirit of Vengeance inside of you… it’s…” Phil wasn’t sure he had the words for it. “It’s so single minded. The power it gave me was incredible, allowed us to defeat Aida, but it’s a burden to carry that around, to host it. But when that happened, it undid the effects of the serum. You know what they say, making a deal with the devil doesn’t end well.”
Steve winced. How could he not, hearing all that? There was this microscopic part of him that was relieved that the "serum" in question wasn't of the super soldier variety, but that was easily eclipsed by the probability that the idea behind it came from the success of the substance that had transformed him in the first place. He clapped a hand to Clint's shoulder, but lightly, forgetting for the moment that he didn't necessarily have to temper his strength. "Well, I'm sure you could see we caused enough trouble on our own, so I can't say I blame you for flying under our radar the whole time."
Most of his drink was gone—when had that happened—and Steve debated about getting more when he looked Phil's way with a curious frown. "This 'Aida' must have been a serious threat if it or they drove you that far. Why do I get the feeling that we've both been doing a bit of world saving here that doesn't always make the news?"
Phil chuckled, refilling both their glasses because it seemed like it was going to be that kind of a night. “Well, the Avengers have always been a bunch of troublemakers,” he said with a fond smile. “But you’ve done a lot of good with that too.”
Phil took a long sip and leaned back. “Because 90% of the job is doing stuff in the background. In my job, if I made the news, it usually meant an op went tits up. If everything was a success, nobody even knew there was a threat.”
He set the glass down on the table. “Unrelated, want to show you something.” Phil tapped his left fore arm, causing an energy version of Cap’s shield to appear. “What do you think? A little less bulky than yours.”
Steve snickered into his glass as he raised it for a renewed sip. A warm sort of lassitude was curling in his belly and spreading out to his limbs. Being tipsy wasn't too bad. So far. "Hey, we caused the big drama so you guys, gals, and non-binary pals didn't have to. You're welcome." He snorted another inelegant laugh and leaned back, drink balanced on his thigh. "But, really, I hope we didn't make life too difficult for you. Probably did, though, knowing the mess we tended to leave behind."
The glass nearly went in his lap when the energy shield sprang to life. "Holy shit!" No doubt his eyes were the size of dinner plates. "That's fuckin' awesome! Another Fitz design? Damn, that guy has some serious skills. My compliments to the engineer, for sure. Tell me true, though." Steve grinned slowly at his friend. "How much of this design was a love letter to me?"
Was Steve tipsy. If Phil had less morals, he would have pulled out his phone to record Steve. Hell, he probably could do it with his arm, but Phillip J. Coulson had morals, thank you very much. Even if the warmth of the whiskey spreading through him was certainly loosening his reserve and inhibitions.
“Used to cleaning up your messes. Not yours specifically, but SHIELD, Avengers, etc… all of that.” Phil explained, gesturing with his hand, causing the shield to disappear. He turned his arm so Steve could see the data screen that appeared on the “flesh”. All sorts of features built into it and Fitz was always wanting to add more.
A flush spread over Phil’s cheeks, both at hearing Steve swear - he appreciated the man behind the shield dropping his guard - and at the question about the love letter. “It’s not always all about you, Captain.” Okay, maybe it was a lot of the time, but Steve didn’t need to know that. “The shield was a good design. Plus, the director of SHIELD deserves to have a shield, don’t you think?”
"Super spy custodians." Steve snorted. Again. At least it wasn't the restrained chuckle he was used to putting on for public appearances. It felt nice not to have to do that around Phil or Tony or James or Repunzel—anyone around the Station, really. "Really hopin' the Powers-That-Be paid you guys a freakin' mint."
Man, his Brooklyn accent was really starting to come in strong. He eyed his glass, which only had a small amount left. Dangerous.
A full on pout bloomed across his face, lower lip actually sticking out. "Man, way to really blow a guy's ego. 'S cool, though. You definitely deserve it. You did a lot for us. Shit we didn't know about. You're a hero, Phillip J. Coulson, Director of SHIELD. I'm real glad you're here, pal."
“Well, there was definitely hazard pay. And enough toys to keep us happy.” Phil chuckled. His own cheeks flushed when Steve’s did. “Well, didn’t want it all to go to your head. Figured I’d stroked your ego enough for one lifetime.”
He bumped his shoulder against Steve’s. “Not sure about the hero bit. But I’m glad I’m here. Certainly beats dying in Tahiti.”
Reaching his glass out, Steve clinked it gently with Phil's and said a very sincere, "Cheers to fuckin' that."