"You," Steve says, crowding Phil up against the wall of his office and tugging on the collar of the shorter man's shirt, "wore this on purpose."
"Well, if we're going to keep up this ruse, then we have to make it as convincing as possible," Phil answers. He smiles gently as he shrugs the soldier's hands off. "They'll be expecting you back."
Steve hums in agreement. "But first, let's get this off. I'll get your spare suit from the closet."
The captain knows by now that the agent keeps at least one change of clothes in his office at all times. In fact, he usually has two or three suits on hand. Given how their line of work often runs, it's not as crazy as it seems at face value. He selects one similar to what Phil had already been wearing and closes the closet just in time to see the shorter man pull the Captain America themed shirt off over his head.
They had all agreed that, in order for Phil to take on Parker and his team, it would be better to proceed as though he were any other agent. Which means leaving his relation to the Avengers out of it. Which means they've all had to pretend not to know each other, something which has been equally trying and amusing. The extremes both of them have gone to in order to keep up this ruse have been cause for a good deal of laughter in the privacy of the agent's apartment. This takes the cake, though. Steve grins as he slides over, laying the suit on the desk beside them.
"Let me help with that," he suggests, already working at the agent's belt before he has a chance to reply.
"Steve. I'm serious," Phil says, his tone warning.
"I know you're serious," Steve answers, spending far too much time tugging down the zipper on the agent's fly. "And we'll be back before they miss us, I promise."
"We don't have time—"
"We have time. The kids are preoccupied with my shield. Besides, it's not going to take that long for me to get you to come," Steve says, entirely sure of himself as he palms the agent through his slacks. He knows he's won when he mouths at the man's jawline and Phil, after some hesitation, gives in and bears his neck to the soldier. "Barely had a minute with you in weeks…"
"I know and I'm—don't leave any marks, please," Phil says, pressing into Steve's hand even as he gives the warning. "None above the collar line, that's the rule, remember?"
Steve makes a dissatisfied noise, but obeys the order and shifts his ministrations lower. He sucks a welt into the skin above his partner's collar bone and bites gently at the tender flesh as his fondling starts to get him somewhere. He presses a quick kiss to Phil's lips before dropping to his knees in one, smooth motion. Phil shivers as Steve tugs his pants and boxers down far enough so that his cock is freed, before the soldier takes him in hand and gently thumbs the head. The texture on his gloves has to feel strange, Steve thinks, but not bad if he's reading Phil correctly. The captain stares up from his position on the floor and smiles fondly when Phil pushes the cowl back from his face.
"No noise, now," he says, authority coloring his words. "That's an order."
Phil laughs breathily, threading his fingers through Steve's hair. "Sir, yes, sir."
He drags the tip of his tongue lightly up the underside of Phil's shaft. He knows they don't exactly have quite as much time as he says they do, but he can't help but take his time as he swirls his tongue along the tip before gently prodding the slit.
"What do you think they'd say if they walked in on us right now?" Steve asks him, pressing a kiss to the agent's lower abdomen as he gently fondles his balls.
Phil closes his eyes and groans quietly, working a chuckle out of Steve.
"You like that idea, don't you? Because you know it'll never happen, you're too careful for that, but it's still exciting doing this here because there's always the possibility, however miniscule, that someone might catch us," Steve says, keeping his fist as loose as possible as he strokes his partner. He's barely touching Phil, really, because these gloves weren't exactly designed for handjobs. Maybe he should talk to Phil about a little design input. "Maybe you forget to lock the door one day and they find us like this; me on my knees with your hands in my hair while you fuck my face."
He feels Phil shivering as he turns his face, kissing from base to tip.
"Maybe they walk in on us when I have you bent over your desk; right when you're about to come and I'm asking you if you want my load," Steve says huskily.
He stares up at the shorter man, not breaking eye contact as he takes the head of his cock into his mouth and sucks gently. Steve watches Phil the entirety of their time together. He watches the way the agent's grip on the edge of his desk grows white knuckled, the way he bites on his lower lip to remain silent. There are certain things which, a year ago, he never would have picked as being things he never wanted to forget. But one of them is this, now. Not so much the fact that he's sucking his partner off in his office, but what it does to Phil.
It's that moment when the man unwinds, gives in and lets Steve take control. It's when he closes his eyes and tips his head back, running a hand through Steve's hair as he rocks his hips. The fact of the matter is, Phil just looks good like this. It's the fact that he gives himself over to Steve. It's not just the sex—which is great, don't get him wrong—it's the unspoken trust that comes with it. Phil's not a control freak exactly; in his personal life he's just very selective with who he trusts and what he trusts them with. But Phil surrenders control to him willingly, happily even.
Steve breaths through his nose as he bobs his head and grips the back of Phil's thighs. He knows he's gotten Phil worked up with that little bit of dirty talk—and has gotten himself worked up in the process—so it won't be much longer before he climaxes. And Steve's got an idea. He pulls off and grips the shaft in his hand. Then, pressing the underside of his tongue to the tip, begins swiping his tongue quickly from side to side. That gets Phil biting down hard on his lower lip, his brow creased in a deep frown as he trembles with the effort of keeping himself quiet.
"Steve," Phil groans.
That's all the warning he needs. He pulls back completely, pressing his free hand to Phil's hip. He opens his mouth wide and lets his tongue hang out, looking up at his partner invitingly. He hears a strangled noise from the agent and closes his eyes as warm, wet shots of come paint his face. It's hard not to smile when he hears Phil swear profusely under his breath as he bucks against Steve's hold, no doubt very pleased with the picture he's getting.
Steve swallows whatever hits his tongue before opening his eyes and looking up at his partner, licking his lips with a poster-worthy grin. Phil meets his gaze, faced flushed and chest heaving.
"I am definitely," Phil pants with a faint smile, "getting you back for this tonight."
"I'll look forward to it," Steve answers.
Phil does get him back that night—twice, in fact—and Steve decides that if the agent is going to get him back like this, then maybe he should jump him at work more often. Lying on the bed as he catches his breath, he looks over at his partner who is wearing a look smug enough to make Steve want to kiss it off his face.
"Hey," he says. "Do you think I could fit under your desk?"
"I could fill out a requisition form for a bigger desk," Phil says without missing a beat.
"I think you deserve a bigger desk," Steve agrees seriously.
"I'll fill out a requisition form for a bigger desk," Phil decides.
Steve smiles as he leans over to kiss the other man and can't help but wonder just how well Phil would be able to save face if someone were to walk into his office while Steve is under the desk. Well, he decides, there's really only one way to find out.