I was going to post something Brock-related for Frank Grillo's birthday, and got distracted playing 'Thornton Hall' (a Nancy Drew game), which always leads to me speaking in a southerner accent… anyway! I ran out of time, so I decided to crank out a bonding scene early in the morning, since I'll be at work, and probably doing my own birthday stuff, so… yeah. :D It's the day after FG, which is awesome. Go, Geminis! This is a continuation of chapter 89, 'Dread Pirates'.

"Brock Rumlow x Leo Fitz"

This time Fitz initiated the kiss. His bare skin was unexpectedly warm beneath Brock's hands, despite the chill in the air. He led Fitz over to the bed and sank onto the edge of it, before pulling his soulmate into his lap.

"How'd you want this, Fitz?" Brock murmured. "On our sides? You on your back, or in my lap?"

"C-can I choose 'All of the above'?"

He growled. "I hoped you'd say that."

Fitz shivered, and since it wasn't the temperature, Brock could only guess it was the growl. He grinned wolfishly, running rough nails down Fitz's back.

"Please," Fitz whimpered.

"What do you want first?"

"I… I don't know…"

"Prep, above all else." Brock grabbed the lube. "You might want to lie down for this. It'll be more comfortable for you."

Fitz was obedient, reclining back on Brock's bed. His hands barely kept still, fidgeting at his sides, and he stared as Brock lowered slick fingers between his legs.

"W-will it hurt?"

"Not if I'm careful," Brock said. "There'll be a burn, and I sure as hell hope you'll be aching tomorrow, so you won't forget everything that happens tonight."

"I'll never forget it," Fitz vowed, and Brock glanced up at him, Fitz's eyelashes fluttering as Brock traced circles around the tight ring. "I've not had much experience, but I know you'll make it good for me. The best. Because you're my soulmate." He finally broke eye contact, looking stunned. "Soulmate. My God. Finally."

"I know how you feel," Brock said. He leaned in and kissed Fitz, sliding his tongue into his soulmate's mouth at the same time as he began to finger him open. Fitz squeaked, each high-pitched noise descending into a moan as Brock delved deeper, scissoring two fingers, then three.

"Too much," he whined, jerking hips belying the statement.

"Want a safe-word?"

"Nnn."

"Fitz, baby? Your safe-word is science. Can you say that for me? Say it, Fitz, so I know you can."

"S-science."

"Good." He kissed Fitz's neck, crooking his fingers, and savoured the skin's vibration as Fitz cried out. "Damn, you're responsive. Wait `til I take you apart."

"Already… doing that oh God, Brock, don't—"

"Don't what? Do you want to safe-word out?" He paused, and then removed his fingers as Fitz caught his breath.

"I… I don't want to…"

"I need full sentences, sweetheart. We're not bonded yet, and knowing each other's thoughts is just a myth anyway. You know that."

Fitz nodded, his chest still moving erratically. "All of it. But… inside me. When we bond. I want you to…" His cheeks turned even redder than before, which Brock wouldn't have thought possible. "To, you know…"

"Come inside you?"

"Yeah."

"No bareback until we've both been thoroughly tested, and… in general, gotten very clean. Everywhere." Fitz glanced away, biting his lower lip. "It's health and safety. You work in R and D."

"I know. I didn't mean… that. Not yet, obviously. Eventually. But, uh, I was referring… just i-in general. While we're…"

It was easy to catch on to what Fitz was saying, but Brock was tempted to drag it out of him. That would be cruel, though, and he was desperate to get inside his soulmate. He did, however, draw out the preparation as long as possible, partly for safety, and partly because he loved Fitz begging. He wiped his fingers on a tissue and threw it out, pulled on the condom, slicked himself up with his left hand, and decided that since Fitz was clearly comfortable enough on his back, he may as well stay in that position.

"I'll take care of you," Brock said, and he covered Fitz's body. The engineer was trembling noticeably, and Brock rubbed his arms again. "I'm right here. I won't ever let anyone hurt you, I promise."

"Bit of a stupid promise, in our line of work," Fitz muttered. Brock snorted.

"Alright," he said. "While it's in my power, I'll look after you. When everyone who needs to know… knows, they'll make sure you're safe as well."

"Everyone at the academy will know by now, if I know Weaver and Simmons."

Brock positioned himself surreptitiously, taking advantage of Fitz's distraction. And it was true; he wouldn't let HYDRA get their hands on Fitz. Brock was one of the best agents; both Pierce and Fury would probably be happy to give extra protection to Fitz, although FitzSimmons was already one of SHIELD's greatest assets (that it knew about). He bent his head and traced Fitz's mouth with his tongue. Mid-kiss, he thrust in slowly, sinking into his soulmate in one hot, wet slide. His one regret was that barrier, but the exams wouldn't take too long.

Fitz groaned as their pelvises met. Brock grabbed Fitz's wrists and pinned them above his head. He swirled his hips, and nearly lost his tongue to startled teeth. He chuckled into Fitz's mouth, gradually rocking in and out. He felt the pressure of Fitz's legs around his waist, and shifted his hand that couple of inches until their soulmarks were pressed together.

The powerful heat washed over him, and he moved faster. Fitz whimpered, arching against Brock's body like a cat. As the light spread, as the warmth wrapped around them, everything felt electric. Eventually their kisses no longer resembled kisses, more like nips in the mouth area. Fitz was pleading softly, and Brock shoved into him as hard as he could on the next thrust. His soulmate cried out, stiffening and tightening and triggering Brock's own climax. He felt the bond snap into place like a body suit, screwed his eyes shut against the glare from their soulmarks.

"Brock. Brock, please. Oh God, it's too much. It… I can't take it…"

"I'm sorry," he hissed. "Can't stop it now."

Fitz let out a sob, and Brock's heart ached for him… until he opened his eyes as the light faded, and saw the peaceful, blissful expression on his soulmate's face.

"Fitz?" he said quietly. Only soft breaths; otherwise, no stirring at all. A phone went off, one Brock didn't recognise, and realised that it was probably Fitz's. He pulled out, disappointed that he couldn't stay in longer, and staggered over to his soulmate's pants. He extracted the cell phone and answered it.

"That isn't Fitz?"

"No, it isn't." He rubbed his eye. "This Simmons?"

"Yes. Hello! You must be Brock. Was I… disturbing something? Only Fitz said he'd call me back in half and hour, to let me know whether he was staying the night, and Agent Weaver said to leave it an hour, but I was terribly worried because—"

"He's asleep."

"…Asleep?"

"I think I wore him out," Brock said, arching an eyebrow as he glanced at Fitz, who was still dozing peacefully. "We bonded, and I guess it took it out of him. How long has he been awake?"

"Awhile," Simmons said. She sounded amused. "You shagged him unconscious? Well done, Agent Rumlow. I'm impressed. Fitz definitely needs someone who can—"

"I get the picture," Brock said, uncomfortable with the conversation.

"You know, Fitz is like the brother I never had," she continued. "You'd better treat him right, or need I remind you that I'm SHIELD's top bio-scientist?"

"No reminder needed."

"So, since you're Fitz's soulmate… that makes you my brother, as well. Or brother-in-law, since you're bonded."

"Simmons," he said dryly, "I am not your brother."

"Do you have any family?"

"Aside from my SHIELD co-workers… and now Fitz? No one."

"Well, now you do," she said, her voice firm. "We must have a proper chat sometime. But I'm sure you'd rather be with Fitz right now, so I'll let you go. Just as long as he's safe with you."

"Always," Brock said.

"I'm so glad he's with one of the good guys."

"Yeah." He crossed his fingers behind his back. "One of the good guys."

Embarrassed beyond all belief to discover that he'd passed out mid-coitus, Fitz buried his face in Brock's chest when he woke up to them entangled on the bed, much cleaner than when they'd been… bonding.

"I can feel it," he said, quiet voice loud in the still room. "Coming from my soulmark, but sort of… out of it as well, y'know?"

"I certainly do know," Brock mumbled into his hair. "You can go back to sleep, if you want. The party's over, and you're not expected back at your rooms. I got a personal call from Weaver, giving you permission to stay overnight."

"Oh, good."

"Also talked to Simmons."

"Ah. Well, she's known me for years. Teased me when I told her what my soulmark said. I can't tease her over hers, unfortunately. I've had it as long as I remember, since I was a wee bairn." Brock was tracing his thumb over the words. "How long have you been waiting for me?"

"…Since you were born."

"That was my roundabout way of asking how old you were when you got your words, an even more roundabout way of—"

"Asking how old I am."

"…Yeah."

"I was in my twenties. Thought I didn't have a soul for a long time, or that I'd die young. But I reassured myself with all those stories of Blanks finding their soulmates in people their age or older, who've gone through some kind of trauma that basically kick-started a new life for them, or someone who'd lost their soulmate and then gained a new one."

"I'm sorry, Brock."

"Not your fault, baby." Fitz sighed, and Brock swiftly changed the subject. "Simmons called to find out why you hadn't called when you were supposed to."

"Oh, dear God. She'll kill me. She worries."

"She congratulated me on 'shagging you senseless', to paraphrase."

Fitz groaned. "She didn't."

"She did."

"…I'm not going to live that one down."

"I loved it," Brock said, smirking as he stretched, and noticed Fitz's hand hovering over his abs. "Made me feel smug that I fucked you into a coma."

"One way of putting it," Fitz muttered. "Crude, but accurate. Though the bond contributed to the intensity which knocked me out."

"…You can touch, you know. You're mine, which makes me yours." And HYDRA's, but there was no way in hell that Brock was telling Fitz that particular secret. "I put a lot of work into those, I'll have you know."

"Just savouring it," Fitz said, before tracing one finger along the grooves in Brock's abdomen. "Hit the jackpot with you. Don't know why you'd get a pasty engineer as your soulmate, but I'm not complaining."

"You're Scottish," Brock said. "You're naturally pale. Not pasty. Who told you that?"

"I've got a mirror."

"Well, it's lying. You're gorgeous."

Fitz snorted softly. "And you're biased."

"I'm too old for you."

"Complete, utter bollocks, and you know that. If you can shag me into unconsciousness, you're doing extremely well for a man of…" his lips twitched, "your age."

"Why, you cheeky little—" Brock began to tickle Fitz, who laughed uncontrollably. "I'll get you back for that one of these days."

"Please, someone save me from the dread pirate!"

"Got you now, me heartie!"

Fitz gasped with laughter, trying to grab Brock's hands. "Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum… low. Hey, it rhymes!"

"I'll give you a rhyme," Brock said, pinning Fitz down again and watching his soulmate's pupils dilate. "If you're good, with any luck… I'll give you a nice, deep f—"

"Brock!"

Didn't know where to end it, so that's… well, where I ended it.

Sorry it's taken awhile to get around to doing another bonding scene! I should be working more on these than 'Fate', but it's so much fun writing stuff with plot, rather than PWP, although obviously there's stuff going on, and… yeah.

Please review!