"Always More"
It was inevitable, Phil Coulson decided. Inevitable… but God, did it hurt. And the worst part was that neither Bucky nor Steve behaved any differently towards him; just towards their newest acquaintance, Johnny Storm.
They met the youngest member of the Fantastic Four at a we-averted-the-apocalypse party. He and Bucky hit it off from the start, and Steve and Phil watched their banter with amusement, Steve's arm around Phil's shoulders. After a few hours of talk between the four of them, Bucky announced that they would have to meet again. If Phil had suspected what would happen, he could have tried to do something. Anything.
But who was he to hold back the men he adored?
From the start, he should have known. The first place they went to meet was a night club, bustling with people Johnny's age. Not Phil's. He leaned against the bar, sipping his bourbon, while Johnny encouraged the others to try cocktails with dirty names – all which Phil declined – and dragged them onto the dance floor. Johnny flirted with everyone: Bucky and Steve, Phil, random people. He showed Steve and Bucky the kind of fun Phil never could. He wasn't a clubbing kind of guy; put him in a classic or retro bar with swing music and he was at home. A noisy, flashy place like a night club wasn't for him. He ended up texting his boyfriends to tell him that he'd been called in to work, and headed to SHIELD.
It was the first time he had lied to them in their two years together, outside of diverting suspicion when buying presents or organising birthday parties. He swallowed down the guilt, and hid in his quiet office.
Phil wanted to think that that's where his suspicions began, but it wasn't. Not consciously. Subconsciously? Maybe.
It was a couple of weeks later. They'd met up again a few times, for lunch or drinks. This time it was dinner. Steve was as bashful as ever in his talk, and Bucky was still subtle, but Johnny was overt in his flirting. Phil watched all three (technically) young men, and wished that he could be more like them. Ever since they began a serious relationship, the three of them, he kept wondering when they would drop him in favour of someone younger.
At that thought, he knocked over his wine. His reflexes caught it before more than a few drops hit the tablecloth, but his mind was far away, even as Bucky placed a metal hand over Phil's wrist and asked him what was wrong.
"Nothing," he said. "Just a twinge."
"You okay? Need a painkiller or something? Or a massage?" Despite the wink, Bucky still looked serious. Phil shook his head; he didn't need reminding that he wasn't superhuman, nor as young as the three men around him.
"I'm fine," he said, and he wiped his hand on the napkin. After that, he could feel their eyes on him whenever he wasn't looking. It was irritating, but nothing to the fear that was taking over.
From then on, Phil kept a closer watch over their interactions. Johnny did spend time with Phil whenever they were all out, and he was a genuinely good guy at heart. He was still reckless, and still an outrageous flirt; but that had toned down as he began to focus his charm on Steve and Bucky. Talking to Phil might have been to soften the oncoming blow, and Phil couldn't bring himself to hate the man. He could so easily have gloated in some way, and he didn't. If anything, he seemed just as friendly to Phil as he was to the others. No. Phil could never hate Johnny Storm, even though he was stealing away the two people Phil loved more than anyone else in the world.
After a post-battle debrief one day, Phil claimed a headache, and escaped to their bedroom. Bucky and Steve had reunited when Bucky's memories – for the most part – returned. For some reason, they'd chosen Phil to join them, as evidenced when they appeared in his SHIELD office and asked him to dinner. To be more accurate, Bucky asked him, while Steve watched Phil with those damn puppy dog eyes. He couldn't say no, and fell in love with them too quickly. He should have known better. Over time, Phil moved onto what was originally Steve's floor, then Steve and Bucky's floor, and now theirs. Or it was.
Taking advantage of his time alone, Phil collected some of his clothes from the drawers and wardrobe, and took them to his original floor in Stark Tower, now considered a guest room. Over the next few days, Phil slowly began to withdraw from Bucky and Steve, and continued to move things from their place to his own. And maybe his own room was temporary? He didn't know whether or not he could stay here and watch them be happy with someone else, even if that someone was Johnny Storm.
Coward that he was, Phil never mentioned anything. He listened at mealtimes when Bucky and Steve expounded on their latest date with Johnny, and all the funny things he said. Phil knew that the other Avengers kept looking at him, expecting him to say something, or acknowledge in some way that he was soon going to be dumped. It would be in the nicest way possible, of course. That, somehow, made the ache even worse.
Phil was staring at the one suit he had yet to remove from their wardrobe. Tony had had it expanded each time someone new moved in. They wouldn't miss his clothes for too long, he was sure.
He wished he could hate them, all three of them.
There was a knock at the door. It was unexpected enough to make him jump, and close the closet door firmly.
"Come in!" he called, slightly confused, and wondering who was there. When the door opened to admit the visitor, he was strangely surprised to see that it was Johnny. A slew of uncharitable thoughts passed through his mind – was Johnny here to kick him out? Make sure he moved all of his things? Do the break-up speech? Warn him? – but Phil dismissed them. Now wasn't the time.
"Hi, Phil," Johnny said. His shoulders were hunched, and Phil immediately felt sympathy for him.
"How's it going, Johnny?" he asked. "Good to see you."
At that, Johnny brightened. He straightened up, and strode into the bedroom.
"Whatcha doing?" he said.
"Oh…" Phil trailed off, glancing at the wardrobe. "Just some reorganising." Which was technically true. He didn't want to lie to Johnny, either. "Uh, Steve and Bucky aren't here. Not unless they've returned, and I just didn't hear them." Entirely possible, considering that Phil had been walking around in a daze for a long time.
"I needed to talk to you," Johnny said.
And this was it. It was happening now. It was a good thing there wasn't much for Phil to move. Pity that neither of his lovers— ex-lovers had the guts to do this to him face-to-face, but he knew that he'd balk at this if he was in their position.
"Well, what is it?" Phil asked. Wariness crept over him as Johnny walked closer.
The building tension snapped when Johnny jumped him, winding his arms around Phil's neck and attacking his mouth with startling ferocity. Phil froze up, and Johnny backed off, breaking the kiss. But he kept his hands on Phil's shoulders.
"The other guys are on board, but you still seem reticent about it," he remarked. "It's all or nothing with me. I mean, they're great, but with you… it'd just be complete."
"…What?" Phil said. Not his most eloquent reply, but this was an unprecedented situation. "I… just, what?"
"Your trio," Johnny said. "I know the three of you are already perfect together – I mean, who wouldn't want to be a part of it? – so you can't blame me for jumping at the chance to… maybe find a place?" He cocked his head like a serious bird. "I won't push for this if you don't want me. Hence trying to convince you that this could work."
"I don't understand," Phil said. Johnny frowned. "You want to join us?"
"Should've opened with that," Johnny muttered. He shook his head. "Yeah."
"You mean, they still want… you wouldn't be rep…"
"Wouldn't be what?" he said, sounding amused. "Wouldn't be replacing you? As if they could." Phil remained silent, and Johnny's amusement evaporated. "Phil… you didn't think they were going to dump you in favour of me, did you?" Phil still couldn't speak, and Johnny's eyes grew wider. His jaw dropped. "I… how could you think that?"
"I wouldn't blame them if they did," Phil said. "I'm just another guy they see all the time. You're young, and energetic, and you like the same things they do. You fit them so much better than I could ever hope to." He spread his hands. "Everyone knows that. Everyone sees it."
"I don't!" Johnny said. "How long have you been worrying about this?"
"…A couple of months."
"A couple of… You really thought they'd want to replace you?"
"You're perfect for them—"
"For you," Johnny said, and he dropped his hands to grab Phil's. "All of you. That's what I've been trying to show you for weeks, Phil."
"…Oh."
"Phil?"
He looked over Johnny's shoulder, and felt the blood drain from his face when he saw Steve and Bucky standing at the bedroom door, looking stricken. Well, Steve looked stricken; Bucky looked furious.
"What kind of assholes do you think we are?" he hissed.
"I don't," Phil said. He wanted to rip his hands away from Johnny's, but they were so warm that he couldn't bring himself to let go. "I never expected the Great Romance of All Time between us."
"Phil, if we wanted something casual, do you really think we'd still be sleeping with you two and a half years on?" Steve asked, raising his eyebrows.
"I tried not to get emotionally invested," Phil said. It was too much to keep looking at them, and so he redirected his gaze, only to make eye contact with Johnny. The man looked nearly heartbroken. His hands tightened around Phil's, almost like he couldn't bring himself to let go, either.
"If you don't want me, I'll go," he whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"We never once thought of leaving you," Bucky said. "Come on, Phil. You moved in here. Did you really still think that it was temporary?"
Phil couldn't speak. He was thinking back over all their interactions the past few months, trying to make sense of everything he thought he'd had worked out. Was he wrong all this time?
"Phil was reorganising when I got here," Johnny said, and he shrugged. "Got my hopes up, I've gotta say. I thought he was getting ready for me to move in… if this goes anywhere."
"Tony would just make more room," Steve said. "There's no reason for Phil to…"
He saw the moment it clicked for all of them. Johnny manoeuvred him out of the way and yanked open the closet door, revealing the single suit. Bucky and Steve strode over to them, and Phil shuffled further away. Steve made a strangled noise, and turned a scowl on Phil.
"You were going to leave us?" he asked. "Don't you… anymore?" It was when his scowl faded and an expression of misery took over that Phil couldn't stand it.
"I was just being prepared," he said. "Less to move when… if…"
"Move it all back," Bucky said through clenched teeth. Phil hesitated, and then began to move past when a metal arm blocked him. "Not now. We need to talk this out."
"What is there to say?" Phil said. "It seems I was mistaken, and I'm sorry. You know I think the world of you, and it was stupid to assume that you'd… I don't know, throw me aside like that. There's nothing else to say. I just… I hope you'll forgive me."
"Of course we do, Phil," Steve said softly. "We just want to know why you'd think that we would want to replace you."
"I didn't think I'd necessarily be replaced," Phil said. "I truly thought this would be temporary, whether or not anyone else ever entered the picture. Sooner or later, people grow tired of… me." He shrugged.
"How long have you thought that?" He looked down, trying to ignore the hurt in Steve's eyes. "Since… since the beginning?" He nodded. "Oh, Phil."
"It's not your fault. You've never been anything less than devoted, or given me any reason to think that you were leaving. It wasn't until recently that I actually thought I was losing you."
"Phil," Johnny said, drawing his attention. "Didn't you notice that I was trying to flirt with you all this time?"
He huffed an amused sigh. "Sorry. It never occurred to me that you meant it. You flirt with everyone."
"Not lately."
"No," Phil said. "Not lately." He looked at the others, and could tell that he'd let them down. "I shouldn't have let my insecurities cloud my judgement."
"No, you shouldn't have," Steve agreed, and he wrapped his arms around Phil. "Will you move your things back in?" Phil nodded. "You promise to stay with us, and tell us if there's something wrong?" He hesitated, then nodded again. "Thank you."
"You make it sound like I'm doing you a favour," Phil said, and his lips quirked into a smile.
"Can we go to bed now?" Bucky asked, crossing his arms. "I think Phil needs to learn a lesson."
"You gonna punish me, Barnes?" Phil said, arching a challenging eyebrow and smirking.
"I could…" Johnny trailed off when they looked at him. "Wait until another time?"
"No," Phil said. He held out a hand. "Stay, Johnny." He got a blinding smile in return.
"I figured it like this," Steve said, and he pulled Phil back towards the king-sized bed (also installed by Tony after they got together). "With the four of us, we're the four temperaments."
"Is that so?"
"Yep," he said, and he pushed Phil onto the covers. He pulled them out from underneath, and began to turn down the bed. Bucky took over while Steve started to strip off his uniform. Phil slowly untied his tie, and beckoned Johnny to sit beside him.
"You do realise that we all have some mixture of those elements?" Phil became slightly distracted as Johnny pulled off his suit jacket, and then started on his shirt buttons. Steve watched them with a smug smile.
"We decided that Bucky was mostly melancholic," he said.
"Not exactly my fault," Bucky muttered.
"I know," Steve said, his smile fading slightly, even as Bucky kissed him on the cheek. "It's who you are now, sometimes."
"Hmph."
"So am I," he said. "And we're both sanguine, as well. Johnny, he's choleric. It's associated with fire, after all."
"And isn't that a coincidence," Johnny said. He nibbled Phil's right earlobe as he slowly drew off the agent's belt.
"And you're the last temperament," Steve said. Mostly undressed now, he climbed onto the bed in front of Phil. "Phlegmatic. The serenity. You balance us most of all, Phil. You're the heart of the group. After you became our lover, everything made sense."
"So what's Johnny's role in this?" Phil asked. He turned his head, cupped the back of Johnny's neck, and gave him a reassuring kiss. It was better than the other one; this held warmth, not heat, and Phil was beginning to understand the feelings behind it.
"Good point," Johnny said, still staring into Phil's eyes. "What part do I play?"
"Well, you bring down the average age of the group."
"I think Johnny needs us," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "Just as much as we need you."
"Let us show you what we see in you, Phil," Bucky said, stroking the inside of Phil's wrist. "Please?"
Without a second thought, Phil launched himself at the sniper. They kissed hungrily, and Bucky pulled him close, moving Phil as easily as if he was a rag doll. Phil straddled his lap, clutching at Bucky's hair and arching against his body to get as close as possible. He couldn't have dragged himself away if the world was ending. It'd never been this intense before. He knew that Bucky was trying to make a point, and blessed him for it.
Behind him, there was rustling, and the muffled sound of clothes hitting the floor. This all only vaguely registered, because Phil was still far too busy tongue-wrestling. Then he felt other hands on him, removing his clothes. Bucky, still holding him tight, lowered Phil onto the bed. He never let up the kiss, not once, not even as Johnny and Steve finished stripping them both. Phil shivered at the brush of fingers on all sides. It was overwhelming, and God, he hoped it never stopped.
"More," he mumbled into Bucky's mouth.
"Yeah," Bucky said, and he whined. Phil gasped as two lubricated fingers thrust into him. Another hand slicked him up, and he realised that Bucky was probably also being stretched. He turned his head and gazed up at Johnny. The human torch looked up from where he was working Phil open to smile at him. Then he added a third finger, and Phil clenched his teeth.
"Ready?" Steve murmured. Bucky glared back at him.
"I've been ready for ages," he said.
"No, you haven't," Steve said. "You good, Phil?" He could only nod, groaning, and the hand around his erection disappeared, to be replaced by Bucky's. He steadied himself, staring Phil straight in the eyes, and sank down. Phil stroked up his thighs until he was grasping Bucky's hips. As Bucky tightened around him, Phil dug his fingers into the flesh.
"Now," Bucky said. Phil sat up, wrapped an arm around Bucky, and flipped them so that he was hovering over his dark-haired soldier. He moved his other arm to pulled Bucky's right leg over his elbow. Bucky yelped as Phil struck deeper, but he was forced to wait while Steve held him in place. Johnny pushed into Phil, swearing quietly. Phil screwed his eyes shut, but they snapped open again when he felt someone stroking his hair. It was Steve, of course; he should have recognised that hand anywhere. He smiled shakily, and Steve leaned down and kissed him.
"You look so edible like this," he whispered. "Like candy." He licked Phil's neck. "Like salted candy. Makes me hungry for more."
"The day's still young," Phil managed to say. Then Johnny gave a small thrust, and coherent thought was shown the door.
Johnny stayed through the night. At some point, JARVIS had dinner delivered to them, and an obscene note from the others. It actually made Bucky blush, and he refused to read it aloud. Steve barely glanced at it, Johnny gave an impressed whistle, and Phil couldn't get past the first line.
"We should've recorded this," Johnny said, indicating the mess the bed had become. "Then they'd know the real meaning of the word 'smut'." He screwed up the piece of paper and tossed it into the corner of the room.
"You're picking that up later," Phil said sleepily. He cuddled up against Johnny, who was clearly going to be their personal hot water bottle. Steve was on the other side, smiling at his three lovers, and Bucky was curled up behind Phil, metal arm curled up his front, hand over Phil's scar. He was a determined protector, just like Steve, and one of only a few people Phil would allow at his back.
Johnny, for all his youth and energy, was soon out like a light. He'd snuggled back into Steve's chest, one arm crooked beneath his head and the fingers of his other hand entwined with Steve's. Steve, converse to his usual wakefulness, also drowsed off eventually. Phil could tell by the silent rising and falling of Bucky's chest that the former assassin was still awake, and turned his head to look back at him. Bucky studied his face.
"I'm sorry," Phil whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Bucky. The whole thing has felt like a dream, and dreams always end."
"Only the ones you have when you're asleep," Bucky murmured. "You really thought we'd want to let you go?"
"What do I have to offer you?" Phil asked. "Nothing you couldn't get anywhere else."
"Wrong. 'All' you have to offer is you. Johnny's the extra spice, and you're the one who pulls us all together. You fix us, Phil. And Johnny… he can give you support we can't, because we're too broken."
"You're not bro—"
"More broken than you. Phil," Bucky nuzzled his neck, and Phil sighed happily, "we'll all balance each other."
"It's just… three people being together is unusual. I feel like having three boyfriends is… greedy."
"There's already more than two of us. What's one more? Hell, I never thought I'd even have one boyfriend," he said, and he looked at Steve fondly.
It was then that Phil realised part of Johnny's role here. Bucky and Steve shared a history that Phil had no part of; with Johnny there, he would no longer feel like the odd one out in that respect. They were right; this could… would work. That Steve and Bucky hadn't seen his problems, but were clearly ready to fall apart at the thought of him leaving, showed that they needed him. They needed his perception, experience, steadiness… he really was their glue.
"Love you," he told Bucky. Bucky relaxed, smiling, and kissed Phil's shoulder.
"Love you, too," he said. "Don't ever think we don't want you in our lives again."
"I won't."
"Move back in."
"…I never really left, Bucky. I couldn't."
They weren't going to leave him. He would extend them the same courtesy.
Probably inappropriate title, considering it's the title of a song from a Barbie movie ('The Island Princess', if anyone's interested). She's singing about how their group is growing, that there's 'always more' love to give, that you don't love other people less just because you love more people. Considering this is a story about a polyamorous relationship between three, then four, men, I should definitely be ashamed of myself. Ah well.
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