A/N: There is... sort of a MPreg kink in here, but no actual MPreg? Kind of? I don't usually write along those topics, so I don't know how to describe it, so if anything even remotely close to that genre is not your thing, then maybe don't read. Maybe don't read it anyway because I have no idea what I'm doing.

It takes time for Steve to hunt Phil down. Granted, he knows the agent has just returned from a long mission and Buster—or Bus, if one is feeling affectionate—will need time to rest, along with his crew. Steve and his team have been grounded for several days after Avenger had been grounded with a wounded wing. It would be some time yet before they were able to get in the air again and the past week had put him on edge.

The fact of the matter is, Steve and Phil haven't crossed paths in almost two months. He knows it's the nature of the job, but really, two months is quite a long time. So when he sees the agent from across the yard, he hurries right over, not bothering to hide his eagerness.

"How was your mission?" he asks.

Phil looks up from the documents on the clipboard he's hurriedly signing and offers a warm smile, gladly accepting the kiss the Steve plies him with.

"Long. Boring," Phil answers. "Mostly uneventful."

"Steven."

Steve would recognize that voice anywhere. Although not the great black behemoth of a dragon that Buster is, Lola is still very impressive in her own right. She's of far smaller stature, able to carry four or five people at most, but known to everyone as Phil's pride and joy. Personally owning a dragon is rare outside of the lucky ones who come to captain the crew of one, and so Lola tends to stand out. With her cherry red hide and smooth white belly and underwings, she's a true thing of beauty. The over-protective dragon had been hatched and raised by Phil himself, so although the agent had no children to speak of, earning Lola's approval had taken Steve quite a bit of time.

Now, she comes hurrying around the bend, nostrils flared and tail twitching in agitation, and he knows he's in for trouble. Phil seems to have expected this, as he rolls his eyes and sighs wearily.

"He was injured," Lola protests, her silver eyes flashing. "He says it was long and boring—and that part is mostly true, it was dreadfully dull—but by the end of it there was a whole mess of fighting and he was hurt. Phillip, show him your arm."

"I'm not showing him my arm," Phil says, his tone unyielding as he hands the completed paperwork off to another agent.

"Steven, make him see reason," Lola implores, nudging him with her snout. "You are very good at that. Do that thing with your eyes."

Steve frowns disapprovingly at the idea that Phil had intended to hide some sort of injury from him.

"Yes! Like that!" Lola praises. "He cannot stand it when you do that."

"It wasn't even anything serious," Phil says. "If anything, Ward got the worst of it."

"You can say that again," Grant grumbles, hobbling past with Leo's assistance.

"She's gotten herself all worked up the whole trip back," Jemma tuts, coming up behind them. "I cleaned and dressed the wound myself. There really is nothing too serious about it."

"Charlatan! I demand a second opinion," Lola declares, smacking her tail against the ground like a gavel.

"Lola, we've discussed antagonizing my team," Phil warns with a heavy sigh.

Lola deflates somewhat at that, blowing smoke rings out her nose in a pouty manner. By way of apology, she stretches out a wing and gently pats Jemma on the head, mostly because she doesn't actually enjoy saying the words "I'm sorry" when she doesn't think she should have to. Steve can only shake his head and smile, as he observes Jemma attempt to assure the dragon that she wasn't offended and that her concern is understandable.

Phil, in the meantime, scrubs a hand over his face and resists the urge to sigh yet again at the actions of his scaly, five ton, petulant child. As exasperated as he is, it tends to work both ways. The number of times Steve has heard the agent use the phrase "Don't touch Lola" must be up in the thousands by now. Lola may be overly protective of Phil, but dragons tend to adopt the habits of their owners—something Phil seems to overlook.

"How about we take a quick trip to medical so the doctors there can tell us that Jemma was right and there's nothing wrong with it. And if there is something wrong, we get it taken care of," Steve suggests. "Everyone wins. Sound good?"

"Careful," May says, brushing past, her lips curled up ever so slightly at the edges in amusement. "You'll spoil her."

"I am not spoiled," Lola counters, snorting. "I am apparently the only one with the ability to think reasonably."

"You are overreacting," comes Buster's booming voice from above them. "And some of us have had a very tiring flight and would like to sleep. Hello, Steven."

"Hi, Bus," Steve says in greeting, reaching up to run a hand along the dragon's snout when it is offered to him. "Taking good care of everyone?"

"When they are not busy running off into danger, yes," Buster says with a click of his tongue. "Please take Phillip to the medic, if only so she will stop her whining."

"You are a brute," Lola declares, flicking her tongue out at him.

"And you are a child," Buster counters.

"If only that bullet had killed me," Phil intones flatly.

Steve tries not to laugh when Lola becomes immediately distressed by this and curls herself around the agent. He tries not to laugh, but in the end even Phil's answering glare isn't enough to stop it.

Steve wakes in the middle of the night when he feels the weight on the bed shift. He bolts upright to find Phil slipping out of bed. The agent offers him an apologetic look, but brooks no argument when Steve holds his arms out, beckoning him to return.

"Where are you going?" the soldier whispers, running his hands up the shorter man's sides.

"Lola wants to stretch her wings and get something to eat," Phil explains, running his fingers through Steve's hair. "I know it's late, but I thought maybe I could pack a bag and we could have some privacy."

Steve doesn't need to be told twice. He knows exactly what Phil is referring to. There's a little spot by a lake that Lola tends to prefer; she will deposit them by a large tree and then disappear for an hour or two while she hunts, giving them privacy for more intimate activities.

"Unless you're too tired," Phil tacks on uncertainly.

"Not in the slightest," Steve answers quickly, rising from the bed with him.

Flying alone with Phil on Lola's back is something of a privilege. Apparently, until they had begun seeing each other, Phil had always made these trips by himself. There weren't many people that Phil allowed to fly with Lola and that he was one of them was something that made him feel honored. These trips, which had always been something private and entirely Phil and Lola's, had been altered to accommodate him. It's now something he and Phil share, something he looks forward to whenever they've been apart for too long.

It doesn't do much good to try and talk over the wind, so they're left to hold on to the rigging on Lola's harness and each other. Really, though, Steve prefers it this way. The journey is made in silence as the landscape beneath them gradually changes from city to rural, moonlight lighting the way. When at last the lake comes into view, Steve finds himself somewhat grateful—the autumn winds are growing colder as they creep towards winter and their time in the air has left him chilled.

"Remember, leave the farms alone," Phil says warningly as they unpack their things from Lola's back and help her shrug out of her harness.

"Yes, yes, I know Phillip," Lola says with the closest approximation of a sigh that a dragon can possibly give. "Leave the fat cows and plump pigs alone."

"I mean it, Lola," Phil says. "I don't want any more angry farmers at my door."

"Very well," Lola says with a snort, smoke curling from her nostrils.

Rather than take off to hunt, as she usually would, Lola sits on her rump before them and doesn't budge. Steve wonders if she might be contemplating where in particular she might like to look for her meal, but she shows no sign of moving any time soon. He shoots Phil a look and finds the agent appears to be every bit as confused as he is.

"Is there something you'd like to talk about?" Phil ventures.

"Yes," Lola declares, rustling her wings in what can only be described as a stately manner as she straightens her posture. "Steven, you have been Phillip's mate for some time now."

"Yeah, I guess that's true," Steve says with a slight laugh. Not the words he'd use himself, but no less true.

"I was merely wondering…"

Lola cocks her head, studying them both before looking to Steve.

"When do you intend to breed him?"

Steve's mouth hangs open as his brain attempts to process the question. Beside him, Phil makes a faint croaking noise as his face turns a pleasant shade of pink. The question in itself is innocent, but no less mortifying to hear.

"I have been asking and it would seem to me that you are taking your time, which is all well and good, only I have given the matter some thought and would very much like a younger brother or sister," Lola dutifully informs them. "I believe I have proven myself to be a mature and responsible role model and would therefore be well suited to the position."

Phil opens his mouth to say something and, coming up with a blank, sits himself against the tree and puts his head in his hands. Lola appears suddenly very concerned, and shifts her weight in agitation, smoking rising from her nostrils as her wings twitch worriedly. Steve manages to find his voice and reaches out to console the dragon.

"Lola, why don't we save this conversation for another time, huh?" he suggests. "It's really something Phil and I should talk about first."

She perks up considerably at that.

"Oh, yes, I understand," Lola answers brightly. "I will leave you now."

She noses each of them before trotting off and, with a few flaps of her mighty wings, taking off into the sky. Steve runs a hand through his hair and sits beside Phil, his back against the tree. The agent straightens, his face still flush with embarrassment, and meets Steve's eye with a pained look.

"Steve, I'm sorry," he says. "She didn't mean anything by it. Clearly I need to sit her down and have a talk about the differences between humans and dragons."

"Don't worry about it," Steve says, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and massaging his upper arm. "She's curious, that's all. For her kind breeding by now would be normal so, really, she's just concerned for us."

"I suppose you're right," Phil admits. He shakes his head with a soft, embarrassed laugh. "I still can't believe she asked that."

"Well," Steve says, leaning in close, "I hope it didn't ruin the mood."

"Hardly," Phil answers, tipping his head back to kiss the other man. "Help me set up the blankets."

They've perfected their routine over time, knowing just what supplies to bring and just what kind of blankets need to be laid down to make their little excursions comfortable. Steve had long ago grown comfortable with their outdoor activities—there's no one around for miles. They take their time warming each other up with wandering hands and deep, hungry kisses until at last they lie on their sides, Phil's leg hooked over Steve's as the soldier thrusts into him. Maybe it's that he's missed Phil for these past two months more than he realizes, and maybe having sex for the first time in as many weeks has tampered with his brain-to-mouth filter, but it doesn't excuse how the words come tumbling out of him.

"Gonna let me breed you, Phil?" Steve pants, slowly rolling his hips, teasing his partner.

The words are out of his mouth before he realizes. He freezes, scrambling to come up with an apology, but is halted in this process when Phil moans, clenching around him.

"Fuck, Steve, please."

A jolt of pleasure travels from his navel to his cock and he groans, tightening his grip on the shorter man's hips as he slowly begins thrusting again.

"You like that?" he asks, mouthing at the agent's shoulder, biting occasionally. "Like when I talk to you like that?"

Phil can only nod, pushing back against him every time he thrusts forward. They've done the whole dirty talk thing before and Steve's learned just what keys the shorter man up, but as strange as it is to admit, apparently Lola's innocent questioning has opened up an unexplored kink for both of them. Being a man capable of great adaptation, Steve does what he does best and goes with it.

"Gonna breed you just like Lola asked," Steve growls. He removes his hand from Phil's hip, but instead of reaching for his partner's cock, he spreads his hand over the man's lower abdomen and squeezes possessively. "Pump you full of cum until your belly swells with my baby. What do you think? Huh? You want that, Phil?"

Steve's cock throbs as Phil shakes with want, moaning loud enough to make Steve thankful they're miles from people. He's on the razor's edge of orgasm and Steve knows that when he comes, he's going to come hard.

"I want it," Phil answers, hips moving in tandem with Steve's.

"You're gonna get it," Steve grunts, thrusting with wild abandon. "Gonna get you nice and fat and pregnant on my cum, fill you up with enough for a whole damn litter… fuck, get ready to take it for me."

"Do it," Phil begs. "Christ, Steve, do it. I want you to breed me."

Steve goes off like a gunshot, still keeping pace as he comes hard enough to see stars. Phil quickly follows, jerking and shuddering in Steve's grasp, writhing as the soldier drives him to completion. It seems like it takes a very long time for each of them to come back down, although pleasure has been known to warp Steve's perception of time. Still, it seems like ages later that they're lying in a shivering, panting heap.

"When will there be an egg?"

Lola's voice catches them off guard, enough so that Steve feels Phil's whole body stiffen in surprise. He grunts, wishing he'd pulled out before Phil clamped down on his oversensitive cock.

"Lola, go," Phil says, his voice full of strained patience.

"But Steven said he had bred—"

"I've told you about spying," Phil chastises. "Go cool off in the lake and think about what you've done."

Lola comes out from behind the tree, looking sore for having been told off as she drags herself towards the beach. Phil breathes out a heavy sigh, relaxing at last, and Steve takes the opportunity to pull out. He settles himself beside the other man, running a hand up and down his back. It may not be the best time to address it, but what's just happened is sort of hanging in the air and rather hard to ignore.

"So, that just happened," he says.

Not the most eloquent of approaches. Phil turns his head and looks to him questioningly.

"Well, what I mean is," he tries again, "I don't really know exactly why I said what I said. Heat of the moment or… something. What I'm getting at is that we usually discuss these kinds of things before hand and I'm sorry I kind of sprung that on you. The whole… breeding thing."

To his great surprise, Phil shrugs.

"I'm not sure why you're apologizing," he says. "I thought it made it very clear that I liked it."

"Sure," Steve says slowly. He pauses, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I just wanted to make sure I hadn't crossed the line. It's a little more out there as far as dirty talk goes, for us anyway."

"If you ever cross the line, you'll know it, and if for some reason you don't, then I'll tell you" Phil says quietly. He watches Lola splash her wings in the water for a time before he deigns to speak again. "I've been coming to the spot ever since Lola first learned to fly. I know that I'm overprotective of her, so there are only a few people I trust to ride with her. But out of all of them, I've never brought a single one of them here. This has always been my spot. This has always been for me alone. Even other people I've seen romantically I never…"

He stops, gives his head a little shake and looks back to Steve once again, resting his head on his folded arms as he lies on his stomach.

"I never brought any of them here. It didn't feel right," Phil explains. "And I'll admit, I surprised myself a little the first time I asked you to join me. I had always intended to keep this as something I didn't share with other people, but something felt right about asking you. And now I'm glad that it isn't something I do alone anymore. Because I was. Alone, I mean. I'm beyond thankful that you've changed that for me. "

He levers himself up on his elbows and leans in to plant a quick, chaste kiss on the soldier's lips. Steve follows him as he retreats, ending with their foreheads pressed together.

"So don't worry about the things you said earlier," Phil says. "It was spur of the moment and we both enjoyed it so there's nothing to be too concerned about. I think we both know there's no chance of you getting me pregnant, no matter how hard you try."

Steve snorts a laugh. "I guess you're right."

"I am," Phil says as he begins to rise. "I need to go wash off, so I'm going to take a quick dip in the lake."

"Mind if I join you?" Steve asks, grinning up at him.

"I'd mind if you didn't."

That's all the encouragement Steve really needs.