Rush (Agents of SHIELD, Philinda)
My entry for #philindachallenge week two- Time!
(aka the one where phil doesn’t pass out at the end of 5x21)
It’s an odd mix of energy flowing through her- adrenaline, endorphins, and something else she can’t quite put her finger on.
It makes her bounce on the balls of her feet as she waits for the Zephyr to land.
Simmons must mistake it for nerves, because she turns and starts reassuring her.
“They’ll be back quite soon,” she says cheerfully. “And the worst must be over- besides, I’d say that your trans-atmospheric joyride was the much more dangerous way back. The technology is really rather impressive. Deke was talking me through some of the-”
“Right.” She folds her arms and turns back towards the bay doors.
Melinda knows her mind should be on plenty of things- Talbot, the team, the impending demise of the planet. But all she can think about is how Phil’s lips felt against hers, the soft tap on her ass as he sent her home, where his other hand might have gone had his shield not been deployed.
It leaves her with an ache in the space between her thighs.
The doors creak open and Daisy and Phil come walking through- dirty but seemingly no worse for wear.
She can’t help but smile at Phil, ignoring the flush creeping up her neck.
Simmons jumps into action before she can do anything else. “Welcome back! I’m afraid we don’t have any time to spare- YoYo and Mack think they have a lead on where Talbot may be headed and Fitz is working on a solution for the gravitonium.”
Melinda flicks a glance at Daisy, who nods back in understanding, slight smirk on her face. (she doesn’t want to think about how much crap Phil has gotten already.)
“Simmons,” Daisy interjects. “Why don’t we reconvene in twenty. I could use a shower.” She nudges Coulson in the ribs. “And I think Rico Suave here could use some alone time.”
Phil groans. “I’m regretting putting you in charge,” he mutters.
Jemma quirks an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
Daisy starts walking towards her. “I’ll explain later. But let’s say that Mack definitely owes me ten bucks.”
Jemma’s eyes widen in surprise as Melinda’s roll in exasperation.
Daisy has the audacity to wink at her as they cross paths.
But soon Phil is the only thing in her field of vision. They move towards each other, stopping in the middle of the room.
“Hi,” she breathes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
She can feel the heat radiating from him. “Hi, yourself.”
“You okay?” She runs her eyes up and down his body. She tells herself it’s just like any other mission- checking for injuries, determining if medical assistance is needed.
He shrugs with a smile. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
A weighted silence falls over them. His eyes bounce from her eyes, to her chest, to her lips, and back again. She traces a finger over his arm.
“Twenty minutes,” he muses. “Don’t know what we could do with that time.” His cheeks are tinged pink and his pupils are large.
It’s the slight chewing on his bottom lip that does her in.
She launches herself at him, arms winding around his neck as her lips crash against his. While their first kiss was profound and languid, this is nothing but passion and need. His right hand winds around her waist as his left tangles in her hair. He gives a tug as she plunges her tongue into his mouth. The moan she gives causes his hips to buck against her.
He pulls away, chest heaving. “My bunk?”
She shakes her head as his hands scrabble across fabric to brush over her chest. “Mine’s closer.”
They don’t make it there. Teeth grazing at her earlobe, she shoves him into a rarely used maintenance corridor.
At least she thinks it’s rarely used. They all look the same.
She shuffles them backwards to the nearest wall, shimmying out of her jacket right before her shoulders make contact with the concrete behind her.
Phil divests of his jacket as well, and wastes no time diving back towards her lips. Her hands sneak under the hem of his shirt, nails scratching against the soft skin of his stomach.
“This might be the most unprofessional thing I’ve done all week,” he says.
She pulls back ever so slightly and arches an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Okay,” he grins. “Second most unprofessional thing I’ve done all week.”
Craning her neck, she starts nipping at his pulse point. His left hand braces the wall while the right starts kneading at her thigh.
His hips start rolling shallowly against her, and something tugs deep inside.
“Been half hard for hours,” he mumbles into her hair, “Didn’t take much to get me there.”
She shifts so she can meet his gaze. “We should probably do something about that then.” Her voice is lower than she expects it to be.
He swallows as she reaches down to free him from his pants and briefs. He is hot and hard in her hands and she can feel the wetness pooling in her leggings.
It crosses her mind for a moment that she’s about to fuck Phil- Phil!- with her clothes on against the wall in a dirty hallway. But that moment is fleeting as she pulls her pants down.
Phil takes a fraction of a second to collect himself, and then lifts her up. He pushes into her with one firm stroke.
She waits for a joke- something about being too old for this or the fact that they’re fooling around like teenagers- but he only rasps out her name in between shuddering breaths.
It’s sloppy and rushed, but she rolls her hips to counter his and it’s just enough friction to make her screw her eyes shut in pleasure. He buries his face in her neck and babbles against her- a constant stream of curses and syllables of her name.
His hand snakes between them as he picks up speed.
“C’mon,” he pleads. “Come for me.”
She shifts her feet further apart and the new angle gives her what she needs. A few more thrusts and she breaks around him, groaning his name.
He lifts his head and his gaze is one of a man possessed. She grips his shoulders as he finishes, emptying himself with a growl.
Their breaths mingle as they try to calm themselves. After a moment, he pulls out and reaches down for his jacket.
He pulls a few tissues out from a pocket and hands them to her. “This uh, this wasn’t the way I expected this to go,” he says, tucking his shirt back in.
She grabs them and quickly tries to clean herself up. “Things happen,” she answers reassuringly.
Once they’re both again fully dressed, he steps in front of her and slowly tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, trailing his fingers across her cheek.
“You need to go change clothes or something?” he asks. “We walk in there like this, the whole team is going to know.”
She adjusts his collar to hide a red mark that will surely be bruised in the morning. His hair is mussed, his lips swollen, wet spot on the front of his pants- “The team knew fifteen minutes ago,” she smirks.
He laughs, soft and light, and she feels the lust fade from her body. It’s replaced with another feeling- this one deep and all encompassing. It’s familiar now, she can name it- but it’s no less scary.
His eyes dart away and then back to her. “Melinda,” he says softly. “I-”
She places a finger over his lips. She knows what is coming next. And she wants to hear it (more than she can admit), but here in this hallway- dirty, exhausted, about to face death in more than one way- maybe it isn’t the place or time.
“I know, Phil. Me too. But let’s go save the world first.”
He takes her hand and doesn’t let go until they reach the control room.
