"Smoke Gets In Your Eyes"
This was the last mission he ever carried out for Nick Fury. Ever, on pain of death.
As a SHIELD agent, this was a ridiculous declaration. Of course he would undertake further missions, as long as he was able. And as long as he remained unfertilised, this would be a long time.
"This isn't happening," he said, rubbing at his eyes. He'd been blinded by a dark mist as soon as he stepped into the room which ostensibly held a secret weapon. The mist dissipated nearly as quickly as it hit him, leaving him reeling, and unable to see. Hands had grabbed him from behind – obviously he'd triggered an alarm as well as the fog – and he was hauled into a cell. That was twelve hours ago, and his ankle was still hurting from when he'd been thrown to the ground.
His heats had been erratic since his return from the dead, and Phil had tried not to think about what that meant. The suppressants covered his scent, so well that few people knew that he was an Omega, and those who did know didn't notice. No one really noticed anyone else's dynamic anymore. Except, obviously, when an Omega went into heat, and wasn't on suppressants.
Phil was due to take his suppressants two hours ago. This was supposed to be a simple mission, in-and-out. He still couldn't see, although amidst the darkness he perceived some vague outlines. And now he was sweating under his clothes, slick building between his legs, and he was desperate for a knot. His body was desperate, that is. Phil was terrified that, at the scent of an Omega, his captors might join him for a little one-on-one time. Or three-on-one. Dozen-on-one, for all he knew. Who knows how many Alphas were in the building?
At least the laws had progressed in the last fifty years. Even thirty years ago, it wasn't considered rape if an Omega was taken against their will during oestrus. That didn't make it all right; but Phil could have them charged. (Assuming his people let them live that long.)
He tensed when the door opened, and his heightened senses picked the intruder as an Alpha. He forced himself to relax. Resistance would lead to injury.
"Phi—"
The Alpha stumbled into the room, and the door slammed. Phil realised that he knew that voice, and the underlying scent.
"C-captain Rogers?" he said.
"It's you! Thank God." Steve's voice was closer. "We've been searching for hours."
"It's been half a day, I believe?"
"Yeah. Can't you see your watch?"
"I can't see anything."
He felt someone in front of him.
"What hap—" Then Steve inhaled deeply. Phil didn't need to see to know that his eyes would have been darkening, even against his will. Steve may have been a gentleman, and strictly attracted to women, but Phil was in heat. "You're an Omega."
"Clearly."
"What…" Steve cleared his throat, and started again. "What happened?"
"I set off an alarm, and got a face-full of smoke for my troubles. I won't be voting for it as the world's greatest welcome wagon, but I've encountered worse."
"That's not exactly what I was talking about."
"…I was supposed to take my regular medication a couple of hours ago. I didn't expect this to happen."
"Clearly," Steve said, echoing Phil's own statement.
"Are you taking me out of here?" Phil asked, although he wasn't hopeful.
"They've thrown me in here, but I'm just a decoy, or bait if you prefer. The others will come get us soon. In the meantime…" Steve touched Phil's neck, and Phil shied away.
"Don't," he said.
"I won't hurt you."
"If it won't take long, I'd rather wait."
"But…" Steve sounded confused. "Taking suppressants now won't stop it. You'll need—"
"I have toys for this," Phil said. It occurred to him that he'd already shucked his jacket and removed his tie. Against his better judgement, he was undoing the buttons of his shirt. Damn biology. "Just get me home, and I'll—"
"Are you going to last that long?" Steve said.
Phil pursed his lips. At this distance, he could almost make out Steve's nose. "I'm not helpless, Captain."
"I'm not suggesting that you are, Agent. I'm suggesting that you'll go mad without some kind of assistance. I know it sucks, but biology has created… fuck, you smell so good." Phil hissed at the way his cock twitched at hearing Steve swear so vehemently. "Biology made us this way for a reason."
"Yes. Procreation. I'd prefer not to go through that, thank you very much."
"Phil." Steve stroked his ear. "Let me help you."
"I can't," Phil said quietly.
"Why not?"
Because my heart leaps when you're in the room, and when I think about you, and I call you 'Captain' because it's better that you think of me as a fanboy than an Omega foolishly in love with you. Because you're being kind. Because this is just biology, nothing more, and damn it, I wish it was more, Steve!
"It can be more," Steve whispered, between kisses to Phil's cheek. "It can be anything you want. I'd never turn away the mother of my children."
"I'm a man," Phil said.
"Whatever you want them to call you."
After about ten seconds of kissing, where Steve's hands wandered down Phil's bare torso to the button of his trousers, his words registered.
"I said all that out loud, didn't I?" Phil said. Steve kissed him again, and ran a finger along the outline of Phil's erection, still trapped in his underwear.
"Something like that," Steve said, and he removed his hands. Phil was already disoriented from relying on touch and sound, and not sight. This revelation distressed him even more.
"Oh God," he said, and his head fell back with a thump against the wall behind him.
"It's just me," Steve said. Phil heard a zipper being opened, and clothes rustling. "Phil, you need this. Admit it."
"That's b-biology."
"But do you want it?" Steve leaned forward and kissed him again, and Phil couldn't do anything but return the action, two-fold. He hummed as Steve pulled away again.
"Yes," he said. "But that isn't up to me. Captain—"
"Steve."
Phil sighed. "Captain, I may not even fall pregnant, so you'd have no reason to stay with me. Then it will hurt even more when you leave. At least if I was carrying your child, I'd have some part of you to keep."
"Phil… what makes you think—"
Just then, pain blossomed in Phil's stomach, and he doubled over with a cry. Strong hands pulled him into an embrace, and Phil silently admitted to himself that he needed help. He sucked a bruise into Steve's neck, and fumbled to undo his trousers and pull everything down. Once his thighs were bare, he awkwardly straddled Steve's lap.
"Okay," he said. "Okay. But it's been awhile. A long while."
"That's okay," Steve said. He slipped his hands under Phil's thighs, and one finger traced his hole before dipping in. Phil was impaled and stretched on three fingers before Steve shifted him into position.
"I don't have any protection," Phil said, trembling as Steve began to press in.
"I know. It doesn't matter. But I've got a secret." Steve pulled Phil the rest of the way down, and Phil groaned into his shoulder. Steve twisted his head enough to murmur straight into Phil's ear. "This isn't the first time I've had this dream."
"Is it just a dream?" Phil asked brokenly. Steve rested his head against Phil's cheek.
"Yes," he said. "But while it lasts, we should make the most of it." He tilted Phil's chin up. "Can we? Please?"
Phil sighed, and rocked his hips. "I haven't had this dream before, so yes." He felt for Steve's face, and drew it close. "I wish I could see you."
"I wish you could see yourself. You're so flushed and dishevelled. I've never seen you like this before. Every time it's a little different. I always draw you differently. I'd show you the pictures, but," he moaned as Phil clenched around him, "that sketchbook goes under lock and key every night."
Phil tried to catch his breath, letting Steve help him move up and down. He knew a knot was beginning to form; he could feel it each time he slid to Steve's lap, and couldn't wait to feel it inside him. Even if this was only a dream.
"I wish this could be real," he said, and he hissed as Steve brought him down with more force, fleetingly catching the hardness.
"Open your eyes," Steve said. He surged to his knees and pushed Phil against the wall, and thrust so deep inside him that he couldn't move. Phil's breath was knocked out of him. "Do it, Phil. I want you to watch me… wait, no, don't open—"
But Phil opened his eyes, and saw only the ceiling of his bedroom as his hips bucked.
Shit, that was realistic. He knew it wasn't; he never accepted a mission which would take place the day he had to take his monthly suppressant. That would be irresponsible.
It was strange, that dream-Steve was talking as if he already knew it was a dream, and that it wasn't the first time for him. Phil had never dreamed anything like it before. He'd only acknowledged his growing feelings for the captain yesterday afternoon.
Dream-Steve seemed almost resigned, the script far too familiar. Phil couldn't understand it. But he knew that they needed to talk.
Phil intercepted Steve before he could go down to the Avengers Tower gymnasium.
"We need to talk, Captain Rogers," he said. Steve frowned.
"About what?"
"I can't have children."
Steve's eyes widened at once, and Phil hoped he hadn't made a huge mistake in assuming that they'd shared a weird dream. "I… I beg your par—"
"Last night, or this morning, I had a dream about you and me. You came to my rescue, and I'd begun my heat."
"You're really an Omega?"
"Yes. And when I became a field agent, I opted for a surgery which would remove my ability to have children."
Steve stared at him, and then flopped back against the wall.
"Oh," he said.
"So you see that… I apologise if I've misinterpreted something which was nothing more than a dream. A very realistic one, but—"
"No, you… you didn't misinterpret it," Steve said. He was looking at the opposite wall, but not focussing on it. "I really have dreamed about helping you. Not like it was last night, though. Some of the conversation was different, and you kept calling me 'Captain'. In my dreams… you call me 'Steve'." He dropped his voice. "Or 'love'." It was so quiet Phil wondered whether Steve had even spoken.
"I needed to tell you," Phil said. "So that you understand. I can't have children."
"Oh, I understand," Steve said, and he finally looked up again. His expression was blank. "I'm sorry, Phil. If things could be different…" He shrugged, and stood up straight again. "But they can't be. Now if you'll excuse me." He brushed past, and Phil's heart dropped.
"All because I made a choice for my career," he whispered to himself. His voice was choked; he could hardly breathe. He didn't particularly want children; but he did want Steve, badly. Not like this when he was a child, nor when he was a teenager. Not even in his adult years had he wanted Captain America in a sexual way. Technically, he didn't want Captain America; he wanted Steve Rogers. And all because he couldn't give the man children, he'd lost what could have been beautiful and special.
Natasha and Clint were gossiping about the new intake of agents, and the promotions and reshuffles taking place in SHIELD, while Steve worked out. He gave them half an ear, still twisted into knots – figuratively speaking, and no pun intended – over this Phil business. He genuinely had feelings for the man, which ran deep, maybe deeper than his dreams had led him to believe. He never thought that Phil could reciprocate them, when he only saw Steve as the hero of his childhood, not as a man and an Alpha, no matter what he'd said in their shared dream.
He thought shared dreams were the works of fiction. But then for a long time, he'd seen things which should have only existed in fiction as well.
It was while he was pummelling the hell out of a Thor-proof boxing bag that he overheard Natasha mention surgery.
"What surgery?" he asked. "You're having surgery?"
"I'm an Alpha," she said. "Why would I need it?"
"Wait," he said, and he shook his head. "I'm confused. What are you talking about?"
"The two new field agents," Clint said, and he threw a nut into his mouth. "One of them," he spoke around the crunching, "is an Omega, and she's getting the surgery. Just in case of any mishaps on missions, Omegas and female Betas have the option of either going on the pill, or having the surgery to stop them from having kids."
"They… they really do have a surgery for that?" Steve said.
"Times have changed," Natasha said. "It was nearly twenty years after your plane crashed that doctors developed methods of preventing conception on a permanent basis."
"Some people just aren't cut out for parenthood," Clint said, chewing on another couple of nuts. He shrugged. "Haven't you heard of it?"
"No," Steve said faintly. "No, I hadn't."
"Phil had it before he went into the field," Natasha said, and Steve felt nauseous. "You could ask him."
"I didn't need it," Clint said. "There was an… accident when I was in the circus. I guess it saved time. But it would've been nice to have the choice, even though it would be hell to make. I mean, it's irreversible. You lose that, you can lose a lot of thing— Where are you going?"
Steve's head and heart were pounding. "I have to go. I made a huge mistake. I'm sorry. And…" He turned back briefly. "Thanks. No one thought to tell me about that. I just hope I'm not too late."
JARVIS was initially reluctant to give him Phil's location, but Steve begged until the AI conceded, and told him that Phil was holed up in Clint's room. Apparently that was his go-to place when he didn't want to be found. He'd been confined to the tower after he busted his ankle tripping over the new carpet in his office at SHIELD. Steve had been as helpful as he could, even massaging Phil's foot when the joints ached. Phil joked that it was age, but Steve said that it was nothing to do with that, and everything to do with not looking where he was going. It was only yesterday when he'd looked up at Phil from where he was working away at the arch, and met his eyes. It took longer than usual to break eye contact.
"Cli— oh. Captain Rogers," Phil said, correcting himself when he noticed his visitor. "I was under the impression that JARVIS would keep quiet—"
"He did, but I pleaded with him for about ten minutes."
"It was six and a half minutes, sir," JARVIS said.
"Thanks," Steve said. "Could we just…?"
"Of course, sir. I will direct my attentions elsewhere."
Steve nodded, and looked at Phil. The agent dropped his gaze to the coffee table covered in shoe scuffs. Steve swallowed, and opened his mouth.
"Who sent you?" Phil asked. "Barton? Romanov?"
"No one," Steve said. "What makes you thi—"
"I called to ask Clint if I could hang out here, and he said yes. He and Natasha were just going to be in the gym, training and talking. I knew you were headed there when I…" He glanced up, then back down. "Please leave me alone, Captain. I need to… I need not to be around you at the moment." He laughed bitterly. "I promise it won't last long. I'm an old hand at pushing aside any feelings I have for the sake of professionalism."
"I didn't know," Steve said, stepping forward. When Phil tensed, he halted. "About the surgery. I didn't know it existed. No one had told me. I overheard Clint and Natasha talking about it, and asked them. I thought…" He felt completely miserable. "I thought you were just brushing me off, and trying to take the sting out of it. God knows I should be the first person to believe in impossible medical procedures."
"You thought I was lying to you?" Phil said.
"It's a horrible thing to say, but yeah. A white lie, but a lie all the same. I didn't think you really wanted me. You've never given any hint of liking the real me."
"What's there not to like? I can't see how any decent person wouldn't love you once they got to know you."
"I didn't think you really knew me," Steve said. He was horrified to notice that his hands were shaking.
"Steve…"
He knelt on the other side of the coffee table, and rested his elbows on the surface, before sinking his head into his hands. He groaned, and scrubbed at his face.
"I've made a mess of things," he said. "I shouldn't have even come looking for you, because I don't deserve a second chance. But I didn't want you to think that I'm the kind of jerk who'd throw away a relationship with a nice guy just because he couldn't make me a dad. I'm not sure I should be a father at all. What if I stayed young while my kids grew old? It's bad enough that my friends will. Unless I die in battle, I'll probably outlive most of you. I just wanted to make sure that you knew it wasn't you. You weren't being rejected at all." He half-smiled, even though Phil probably couldn't see it around Steve's hands. "I was under the impression that you were doing the rejecting, and I didn't want to bother you, or make a scene."
He looked down into his cupped hands again, the darkness not quite absolute, but enough that he couldn't see anything except the lines on his palms. He sent a silent prayer for forgiveness to God, and then stood up as quickly as he'd knelt down.
"So that's it," he said, and he turned for the door. "I apologise if I hurt you, Phil."
"Steve, I can't run, because my ankle is still throbbing. But if I could, I'd hurl myself in front of the door to prevent you from leaving." Steve stopped in his tracks again. "Stay, so we can talk." Steve turned, and saw that Phil was on the edge of his seat, ready to rise. His bandaged foot was a reminder that if Steve opened the door, Phil could do some serious damage to his ankle coming after him.
"All right," he said. Phil gestured to the other end of the two-seater couch, and Steve obediently sat by his side.
"That's good," Phil said. "That's," he moved quickly, straddling Steve's lap before Steve even realised that he was moving. "Do you really want to be with me, or did I dream that part?"
Steve didn't think; he grabbed Phil's hips and pulled him close, until their chests were flush. "I want to go on dates with you, and kiss you, and help you through your heats. I… I should tell you that I'm not usually as forward in real life." His cheeks felt hot, but Phil's smile took the sting out of blushing. "If you really wanted my help, we wouldn't have to start with sex. And I'll still respect you in the morning."
"I should hope so."
Steve bent his head to Phil's neck, and breathed in deeply. "There's something there, just beneath the surface. I can smell it now. You wouldn't let me close enough before."
"I didn't know how I felt about you until yesterday."
"That would explain it."
"Explain what?" Phil asked.
"Everything," Steve said. It was the only answer he could give. "Please go out with me, Phil. Let me show you I can be a decent guy, and that I don't give a damn whether or not we can have children. It's you I like and want, not some non-existent kids who deserve better parents than we could be, with our way of life."
"You'd be a great dad," Phil said, stroking Steve's hair. He leaned into Phil's hand.
"So would you," Steve said. "If I wasn't Captain America, and you weren't a SHIELD agent."
"Yes," Phil said, his face darkening. "I'm sorry—"
"If we weren't who we are, we wouldn't have met, so I'm not sorry at all."
"Well, when you put it like that."
Steve looked Phil in the eye, serious. "Let me court you, and see how it goes. I want a chance, if you'll give me one."
Phil wrapped his arms around Steve's shoulders. "I'll give you everything I can."
I wrote this while watching Jim Carrey's 'The Christmas Carol', 'The Muppets Christmas: Letters to Santa', and then before going to bed. I'm insane, and possibly inappropriate. Anyway. I hope you liked this. And Phil can't get pregnant because I keeping getting him knocked up in my stories, so I thought I'd give him a break. That doesn't mean I couldn't pack in a little bit of angst. ;)
Please review!