Author's Note: If you're on tumblr, this is based on alwaysnevercool's post. The cuddling for warmth part is based on Alanna official's fic,Through the Storm. I like to think that they've always done this before, so I put it here lol.
UPDATE (12/31/16): I've made minor changes, just some things I thought would improve the fic.
She wakes up in a daze, feeling something warm holding her hand. With a groan, she turns her head to see the former Director sitting on a chair, asleep, half his body slumped over her bedside. She moves her hand above his, intent on coaxing him out of sleep.
"Coulson," she tries to find her voice, but discovers that she sounds hoarse. What happened to her?
"Coulson, wake up," she tries again, this time tracing circles on his hand.
He stirs.
Sure that he'll be awake in a few moments, Melinda moves her hand away from his. She wasn't even aware that she was holding his hand. She was doing it probably before she even thought about it.
"May," Phil greets sleepily. "How are you feeling?" Always concerned, even if she doesn't want him to be. Even if she tries to stay away from him. Even when she locked herself away in that cubicle.
"What happened?" She ignores his question.
How does he even begin to answer that? "Umm... Okay, well... Aida, she..."
"Aida?" She raises her eyebrows, but not out of shock. It seems to tell him to go on, to tell her why she's feeling like she's been asleep for a century.
"Yes, well, Aida kind of... made another you," Phil pauses, waits for a reaction. She was still lying there, waiting to know what happened, eyebrows still raised. He figures that maybe now, the only things that would surprise May would either be the discovery of an alien planet or a dimension aside from their own.
"So this robot you," he continues.
"Android," she interrupts. Phil smiles.
"Okay, so this android you, she went around the base masquerading as the real Melinda May that we all know and love," he grins at the last part. "While you were kept an unconscious prisoner in a god-forsaken closet," he will never be able to explain the anger he felt when he found out that it wasn't May he shared the Haig with, and more so the surge of relief (and something he couldn't quite name yet) when he found May alive.
"How long was I out?" she asks.
"About three days, maybe," she can still see the worry in his face. "So are you going to answer my question, or not?" God he was persistent. Persistent and stubborn. It if was anybody else, they would have probably had their ass kicked. "How are you feeling?"
"Energized," she says dryly. "I've been sleeping for three days, remember?"
Phil snorts. He misses this banter between them. "Honestly, though?"
"Just a little cold," she says. It must be her body adjusting back to normal after it was under whatever Aida gave her to keep her unconscious. He looks at her the way he did in the old days. She knows that look, like he's asking for permission, and she remembers the countless times they did it when they weren't able to bring anything on their missions. They huddled up for warmth.
She could've just asked Phil to adjust the air conditioning, or Phil could've voluntarily called for Simmons, but this unspoken thing between them, this mutual understanding, made her look at him in a way that says she was comfortable being held by him again.
It was always there. This "understanding" didn't just reveal itself out of nowhere, it was always knowing how each other felt. Without even saying anything. Between them, a look across the room could tell so much more than their words ever could. It was what made them such good partners in the field. And what made them maybe secretly want more. But life got in the way, and things don't really work out the way they want it to. They set their boundaries. Now, however, this thing between them has grown into something else. Ever since May had died, something had shifted in their relationship. They felt more comfortable, more free in the way they interacted with one another.
As he's holding her in his arms, he listens to her breathing pattern. He's memorized it after all the wintery missions they've been on. If this happened with the LMD, he would've immediately known it wasn't May. She feels so right in his arms, he decides that maybe Simmons' examination could wait just a little while. He doesn't want to let her go right now.
"May," he whispers, keen on not waking her up if she's fallen asleep again.
"Mm?" her voice reverberates in his scarred chest and he thinks that maybe he'll die again for the second time.
"I have to tell you something," he confesses.
"What is it?"
He realizes that things have changed between them. Ever since May told him it was him she saw in the afterlife, he really can't help but to let it go to his head. Did she really expect him not to overthink about it when she tells him something like that? And God he hopes he hasn't taken what she said (when she thought he wasn't listening) out of context.
"I opened the bottle with Maybot."
"Maybot?" she snorts, for the first time surprised. Out of all the things he's told her already...
He honestly expected a stronger reaction on the "drinking the bottle with fake Melinda part," but okay.
He resists the urge to kiss her forehead.
"Well that's what Daisy called her," he shrugs. "I thought it was clever."
She shifts closer to him, maybe hiding just a hint of a smile. She didn't know if it was because she was happy to hear Daisy's back again, or if it was because she was cuddled so closely to Coulson.
"Is that all?" she asks. Feeling exhaustion take over her once more.
"No, not really," she feels Coulson's heart beating slightly faster, and for a moment feels nervous about what he has to say.
"Well?" she doesn't really know what to expect anymore after all of this.
"Okay, don't be mad but," Coulson's heart starts beating even faster now. "Android you, and me... we kissed."
Now it was her heart's turn to start beating fast. She couldn't really hide it, and neither could Coulson, being so closely held by each other.
"You mean because of the Haig?" she tries to find some reason in all of this. A drunken kiss is acceptable.
It takes everything in him to say no.
"We kind of told each other how we felt about each other," he pauses at every word, unsure of what to say, but absolutely sure of the implications of this situation. It was the real him bearing his heart out to the fake version of May. His real feelings. For all he knows Maybot was just playing along to advance whatever her agenda was.
"Are you alright with that?" he asks.
"How could I be?" she shifts herself from his chest to look into his eyes. "She did a better job, though."
"What?" did he miss something?
"When Radcliffe killed me," she tries to explain. "My brain, my memories, my feelings - everything was stored somewhere, I think. And maybe, because Aida isn't stupid, maybe she used it and programmed it into the android to make her more convincing."
So that explained why the old coffee trick didn't work on her. Of course Phil had suspicions. And so he offered her coffee. She didn't accept it. He let it slide until the team thought something was off about her. He finally found out when they had to look for the missing agent at Radcliffe's house. When they arrived at the base, he landed a good shot (or two) at Radcliffe, and if Mace wasn't there to stop him he doesn't think he'd have stopped.
"So what I'm saying is she did a better job sorting out my feelings for you than I ever did," she confesses.
Phil reacts in exactly the same way he did when they were at the prison, only this time he softens into a smile.
"Will you say it?" he asks, hopeful.
"Say what?" she teases, her face centimeters away from his.
An exhausted, bedridden Melinda May can only do so much opening up, so he concedes, saying it first. "I love you, Melinda."
She feels every word fall on her lips. He was closer now, but they weren't exactly kissing. He didn't want to force himself on her if she wasn't ready yet.
"You kissed the LMD, unfortunately. Maybe you should kiss the real one then?" she isn't exactly asking. "Just to compare?"
To be honest it wouldn't take much encouragement on his part if Melinda wanted him to kiss her.
And so he does it. He closes the space between them, and they both surprisingly sigh. They've been waiting for this. They didn't even know it. The kiss is soft, and gentle, and they have both seen unbelievable things working in SHIELD, but this is just magic. And nothing could ever explain magic.
Right now she doesn't feel the need to say the words back. He would know. He always does. Maybe she'll say it later. Only when he needs reminding. Or to catch him off guard during the mundane moments of the life they're about to share together. She just hopes that right now, her kisses would do her love justice.
When Melinda opens her mouth and allows him to taste her, their senses stop to perceive anything else but each other.
Which is why when a shocked Simmons enters the room, both hardly even notice. But when they finally do, they quickly try to regain their composure, even when they're both so obviously flushed and so obviously caught.
"I just came to see if you were awake," Simmons says, eyes still wide with shock, but she tries to remain professional. "I'll just come back later, then," she says with a slight dip of her head, acknowledging them both, and quickly leaves the room.
When she is outside the door, she whispers a "Yes!" to her fist, and runs to tell another unbelievable (but finally, happy) incident to Daisy and the rest of the team.