It Was a Need, Not a Want
It was a need, not a want.
It was the worst day either of them had been through in recent history. He killed an innocent man in a bid to protect the woman who had become like family to him. She had been outed as a traitor, ordered by Commander Hill to keep an eye on Coulson and report any and all progress he made in his saga to find out the truth about his death and rebirth.
Guilt had settled upon both if their shoulders, impossibly heavy burdens that neither of them could carry alone, but both tried to anyway.
He made it four hours before he was drowning himself in whiskey. Each burning gulp straight from the bottle was like a dip in a cleansing flame. Ounces of guilt melted away with each sip. Small ounces, prompting him to drink more until more was gone.
Killing himself slowly. He didn't deserve a quick death. Nash deserved one, but not by his hand. Not when he was under desperately false pretenses.
She made it two more hours before she was drowning herself in whiskey. Each burning gulp was like a wash of scalding hot water to wash the stench of her treachery away. Little by little, prompting her to drink more until more was gone. She had betrayed her friend, her only friend. Friends like him were hard to come by, harder to lose. She had managed both.
She hadn't meant to hurt him. His friendship was the most valuable thing she possessed. It was the friendship that she coveted so much that she opted to spy behind his back. To protect him as she always had. She loved him dearly. That love betrayed her common sense.
It was a need, not a want. Both killing themselves in the amber streams of their shared preference. Both holding back the bitter tears of their failure as protectors and washing them away with more alcohol. Both barely able to think, let alone enunciate exactly how sorry they felt.
Not that anyone would listen. They had all made up their minds. Ward was emotionally compromised, May was a treasonist. Both questioned about their loyalty until they were both hoarse of voice and addled of mind.
Their roads were parallel but different. A road of treachery was different from a road of murder, but they both led to the same place. A place no one ever wanted to go, but went to anyway, either out of necessity or desperation. They both accepted this, embraced it. It was the only way to cope with their eternal damnation.
Ward and May led down different roads, but they both led to the same place. Words were unable to be spoken. They didn't need to be. Their minds, upon processing the other's presence, led to the same conclusion. Their red, tear filled eyes met when they did. They both told the same story. One of heavy guilt and of desperation. Desperation to remove the burden from their shoulders. Burdens neither could handle alone, but had tried to anyway.
It was a need, not a want.
Baser instincts took over in the absence of common sense. She made the first move, touching his chest as she approach. Her feet bended at the toes, allowing her to capture his lips with hers. For the first time in weeks, they kissed. It wasn't gentle, nor was it loving. Gentle and loving would have indicated that either of them were capable of wanting, which they weren't. Their rational, logical halves were shoved away when their respective bottles were still only half full. What was left were a pair of animals, acting only out of their selfish need to let go. A release was what they needed.
Their lips crashed against each other like lions in heat. Gnawing, biting and gripping their faces as like there wasn't going to be a tomorrow. As far as either of them were concerned, there might as well have not been a tomorrow.
The door barely opened before Ward forced them both inside. The bunk was small, cramped, but if either cared, it didn't matter. The bed creaked as their combined weight sank into the mattress. Clothes began to litter the floor. Their lips never separated. Together, they beared their burdens as a pair. Together, they merged as one, stomping out the flames and fires of their guilt and pain with the flames of their passion. Fingers raked and clawed across their skin. Teeth gnawed and nipped at their flesh. Hair was carded roughly and pulled to the brink of pleasure. He needed her, she needed him. It wasn't a want, a desire. It was a necessity, a prerequisite for them to go on and face the next day and the onslaught of challenges they were about to face.
May wrapped her legs around him, making sure that he was as close to her as possible. With one final grunt, Ward washed their guilt away one last time before collapsing beside May. Their chests heaved as they sucked in air in ample amount. "May," he started.
She shushed him softly and placed a finger sloppily on his lips. Dexterity was shot, but intent was there.
He lightly grabbed her wrist and kept her finger against his lips. His lips pursed and placed a chaste kiss on the digit. "Thank you. For still being there," he whispered. He took the time to kiss chastely the other four fingers on the hand he was holding.
She flashed a small, lopsided smile. "Always." Her back turned toward him as she staked out her portion of the bed, leaving him pressed between her and the wall.
Not that he minded. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. His breath tickled her ear when he spoke. "Whatever happens, whatever comes to light, I'll always have your back."
He could see her smile, which made him smile himself. Whether he wanted her or she wanted him or not was irrelevant. He did, but it wasn't important. There was a need for the other that they both shared that made whatever this was between them more than two people having sex.
It wasn't love, but it was about as close to it as two people like them would ever get. It was a need they both had that only the other could provide.