Note: breaking with the usual thing. In this, the soulmates have known that they're soulmates for years, but never done anything about it. Then bad stuff happens.

Warning: potentially dubious consent in the first part of the story, due to the nature of 'sex pollen'.

"Too Darn Hot"

"What the hell happened?" Phil asked, staring as Ward and Trip moved John Garrett out of the van and onto a stretcher.

"Something hit `im," Trip said. "We were following up a lead. Garrett went into one room – said he could see a laptop in there – and we were looking in other places when there was a smash."

"Broken window," Ward said, wheeling the stretcher to medical while Trip ran ahead to tell Simmons. "There was a kind of grenade on the floor. Trip packed it up for Fitz. There was a smell of gas, but it'd mostly disappeared by the time we got there. Garrett was moaning, so we grabbed him and got the hell out of there. We had to sedate him after he started thrashing."

"Go make sure he's strapped down before Simmons begins her examination," Phil said.

"Here's the box."

"I'll take it to Fitz. Go. Keep me informed."

Half an hour later

"He's in heat. Or rut, since he's male."

"You have GOT to be kidding me."

"Sir, it matches some early records of HYDRA's foray into germ warfare," Simmons said timidly. "Fitz is still examining the traces left in the cylinder, and I have yet to test any blood samples. But Agent Garrett's reactions are practically textbook."

"Damn good thing we have forms for everything," Phil muttered. "HYDRA. They can't seriously be in on this?"

"They're not the only ones who have attempted to create an aphrodisiacal gas of this nature—"

"Simmons, I've heard of fan fiction. You're talking about sex pollen."

She blushed. She'd sedated Garrett again, after he fought against the restraints – under Ward's supervision – and began to say things which had even shocked May. Phil was sorry he missed it. He'd have to review the security footage later, before Skye could wipe it. Knowing her, she'd have made a backup copy. She was getting to learn the ways of SHIELD.

"Something like that, sir," she said. "His hormones are in constant fluctuation. I might be able to create a way to regulate them, because that seems to be what he needs; based on the old records, the best way to combat this is to level them out, preferably with other hormones."

"You mean that his body needs to concentrate on it by having sex with someone?"

"That would be the most expedient way, sir. Unless someone can get to a… an adult store, but judging from what he was saying, that isn't what he needs."

"What are you saying, Simmons?" Phil asked. It was like drawing teeth.

"Are you aware of Agent Garrett's sexual orientation, sir?" she said. And Phil hadn't thought her face could get any redder.

"Bisexual, as far as I can tell."

"Do you know who his soulmate is?"

"He's never told me, and the one time I glimpsed the writing, I didn't recognise it."

"Oh dear. Do you know who may be on his consent form, then?"

"No idea," Phil said, wracking his brains. "Simmons, you were saying earlier…?"

"Well, if he had a male partner…" She cleared her throat. "He doesn't wish to be…"

"On the receiving end?"

"Yes!" she squeaked, averting her eyes.

"I could've told you that he's a top."

"…W-what?"

He rolled his eyes. "Your generation didn't invent sex, Simmons."

"Sir!"

"It didn't."

"Sir?" It was May. She looked from Simmons' red face to Phil's raised eyebrows. "I had his forms checked out. No soulmate listed."

"His consent form?"

"…You."

"Fuck. I forgot I'd agreed to that." He shrugged at their expressions. "This was a long time ago, after those forms were reintroduced. After one particular mission, we'd specified each other on our paperwork. My soulmate wasn't interested, so John and I…" He sighed. "I don't know whether he'd think differently now. My last boyfriend—"

"The cellist?" May said. Phil nodded.

"Thinks I'm dead, and it's probably better that way. It gives Andrew a chance to find his soulmate. Simmons." He turned to her. Some of the blush had faded now. "Is there any way we can get him lucid enough for, say, five minutes? Just so I can ask Garrett for consent? If he wants someone else—"

"I cannot guarantee a great window of time before the strain gives him a heart attack, or he cooks," she said.

"Cooks?"

"His temperature spikes approximately five degrees with each change in hormone levels, before returning to its previous temperature. But the base temperature was growing steadily while I was in there. If it continues, he could die within twenty-four hours."

"How long will it take to knock up a cure?"

"If a chemical cure can be developed… I can only do it after I've examined his blood. It could take fifteen hours, if we're lucky."

"Shit." Phil stared through the window. Even from here, he could see the sweat pouring off Garrett, the temperature gauge far too high, his heart rate steadily rising. "I still need his permission first."

"I have something which may work, but only until the end of a fluctuation. That should give you the five minutes you require."

"Good."

Timing it at the start of a cycle, Simmons injected a cooling solution, which would clear his head temporarily.

"John?" Phil said, stroking his dark hair down. Garrett's eyes fixed on his.

"Yeah?"

"You've been dosed with sex pollen."

Garrett laughed. "Funny. I thought you just said I'd been… oh." Phil was nodding.

"I'm still the name on your consent form," he said. "If you know where your soulmate is—"

"No."

"Okay. Do you want me to take care of you?" Garrett nodded. "John, I need you to say it. If there's anyone else we can get for you, anyone you'd prefer—"

"You." He clutched Phil's hand. "I trust you."

"Alright. We're preparing a room, specially cooled. Trip will remotely monitor your vitals while FitzSimmons work on a cure. Skye's organised food and drinks… and other things."

"You don't mind?" Garrett said. He looked and sounded almost pathetic, a far cry from the witty, charming, confident man he usually was. Phil squeezed his hand.

"Of course not," he said. "I'm unattached. We agreed on this, remember? You'd do the same for me."

"That I would. Remember the club?"

"Reminisce later."

"What about Blake?"

Phil froze, and then swallowed.

"He has no say in this."

"He's your—"

"You know our history, or lack thereof. Now come on. We have to get you to the interrogation room."

"Gonna play bad cop, bad prisoner, are we?" he quipped. That was more like the John Garrett that Phil knew.

"Sir, he's about to relapse," Simmons said, eyes on his vitals.

"Better sedate me, then, sweetheart," Garrett said, holding out his arm. "I thought you were gonna turn into a tomato before."

Phil had prepared himself while Garrett was sleeping through the twenty or so minutes that sedation bought them. It'd been awhile – since before New York – but he had his own toys for those nights when he got lonely, and he was making use of them now.

"Coulson?" May knocked on the door. "When you're ready. Room's stocked with food, drinks, and other supplies."

"I hope you were very thorough."

"Naturally. Skye actually went and bought them. Said she got strange looks, and pointed out that she'd feel a lot less awkward if she was buying them for herself."

Phil dressed in casual clothes; better than having buttons ripped off. He wore slippers, and was grateful that they didn't meet any of the 'kids' along the way. If he was in charge of salaries, he would've given May a huge raise for that alone. They all knew he was gay, but he was a figure of authority, just as Garrett was.

"There's also a first aid kit," May said as they stopped outside the door. "You know where the distress button is—"

"I know," he said. "Thank you, May."

"Go get `im, cowboy," she said wryly.

Phil entered the room just as Garrett was stirring. He was only partially dressed, and Phil could understand why. The room was freezing.

"Like the arctic in here," he remarked, kicking off his slippers. "Good thing we're about to warm up."

"Phil…?"

"I'm coming," he said, approaching Garrett.

"Not yet, you're not. Not until I'm inside you."

Phil couldn't really blame Simmons for blushing. It'd been a long time since the club, but he was pretty sure that the sex pollen was partially to blame for Garrett's voice being so smooth and low. And enticing. Seduction wouldn't be required.

"Aren't you going to finish stripping?" he asked. Garrett pulled off his underwear, but left his sweater on. He was stupidly attached to those things.

"You're still too dressed," Garrett said as he pulled on a condom. Phil chuckled at the note of irritation, and began to lift his Captain America t-shirt.

With an incredible speed, Garrett was there, yanking it off. He pressed Phil up against the wall and sucked a bruise into his neck. Phil's knees trembled and his eyes rolled back in his head.

"John," he said. "What're you—"

"Stay. Still," Garrett said. Then he dropped to his knees in front of Phil and tugged the rest of his clothes down. "Feet." Phil stepped out, and swallowed as Garrett stroked all the way up his legs and around the back. "Came prepared, did you?"

"Like you said," Phil replied, "not coming until you're in me."

Garrett's grin was sharklike. "That's right."

Phil was pleasantly sore. It was hour three, if his watch was anything to go by, and whatever had hit Garrett was keeping him going. Phil didn't mind. He was a bit of a masochist: see, in unrequited love with his soulmate for over a quarter of a century.

"Why haven't you taken the rest of your clothes off?" he asked quietly. Garrett was spooned around him, hand over Phil's heart while they rested.

"You never saw what happened to me in Sarajevo, did you?"

Phil's hand was over his, and tightened. "I was there."

"Yeah, but on a different mission."

"Still heard it on the comms. Heard you on the comms before the explosion cut it off. I wish the tech back then was as good as it is now. I…" He sighed. "I freaked out, and then disobeyed orders. Grabbed the nearest vehicle, hotwired it, and set off for your last known location. Heard that the medical team had finally got to you, so I turned back." He laughed softly. "Got hell for that."

Garrett was quiet for a minute.

"You came for me, even after the medical team said they couldn't?" he said.

"Yeah. We'd been through some thick and thin together. Of course I was going to try and rescue you when no one else would risk it." He wriggled back against Garrett. "I'm sorry it happened to you at all. If I could switch places…"

"You're a good man, Phil Coulson. Too damn good for a guy like me. Kinda wish we were soulmates. It'd solve a lot of problems."

"I don't know," Phil said, glancing back at him with a smile. "I don't think I'd change you."

"You wouldn't?"

"Nah. Better to keep you like this."

"You're too good for Felix Blake."

Now it was Phil's turn to stay silent for awhile.

"Doesn't mean I don't still care about him," he admitted.

"It's been, what, thirty years, Phil!"

"Your point being?"

Garrett sighed. "You need a boyfriend, and I will find one for you. After you catch the Clairvoyant, we'll look into finding someone who's just right. Who knows?" He ran his hand down Phil's front. "Maybe I'll be lucky enough to get you all to myself."

It was uncomfortable meeting Felix again.

Simmons had come up with a counter-drug in sixteen and a half hours, which was apparently a record. It was only possible because Fitz and Skye made her take power naps. Phil and Garrett had shared a drink, reminisced over the time they were undercover in what turned out to be a BDSM club, and generally dispelled any awkwardness which may've arisen. Since it was really just another mission – with two kinds of debriefing – they laughed it off.

But to see his soulmate one sleep later, after being shagged – to use Simmons' word – out of his mind repeatedly by someone else, didn't do Phil any good. He knew the others had been informed; and if they hadn't, the lingering bite marks on his neck would've given it away. He caught Garrett eyeing them smugly from time to time.

"How are you feeling?" Felix asked. Phil frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"After… yesterday."

"We did what had to be done. John's alive, I'm not walking bow-legged. I count it as a win."

"Phil—"

"What?"

"…What about his soulmate?"

"John's never told me who it is, and they're not listed anywhere that we can find. As you know, being someone's soulmate doesn't automatically mean a happily ever after. It's possible to find that with someone else. I almost had it with…" He sighed. "We have a mission to prepare for. See you later, Felix."

He regretted that conversation as soon as he heard that Deathlok had put Felix in a critical condition. Phil was automatically notified, because Felix had no next of kin and Phil was his listed soulmate.

"I'll get whoever did this to you," he whispered, squeezing Felix's hand. "I swear, Blake. Whoever made Mike do that, they're dead."

At the motel, Phil and May lay down next to each other in silence for awhile.

"Life sucks," Phil said, and he sipped his soda.

"HYDRA sucks," May said.

"And people in general."

"People who gain your trust through sex."

"Yeah." Phil swallowed. "I don't know what's worse: the idea that I might've been the target, and that Garrett would be the one to 'help' me; or that he was the target all along, so that he'd seem like a victim. He was good. Even with that chemical riding through him, he played the part of an old friend who needed my help. If I'd topped, I'd still feel the same way; betrayed, unclean."

"I know how you feel. I haven't known Ward all that long, and it was just working off stress. But you and Garrett were friends."

"I thought we were. God, he was talking about… about after we caught the Clairvoyant, that he'd help me find a boyfriend, maybe him. My mind keeps going through the worst case scenarios. If HYDRA had taken over, what if we'd been taken prisoner? What could he have done, knowing every place to touch me to get a reaction? What if that's what it was about, the sex pollen? Coercing me into sleeping with him – literally, God – and then using it against me? And for you…" He turned his head to look at May. "I can't imagine how you feel."

"They'd never take us alive," she said. "Not unless we had an escape plan."

"We all trusted Ward. None of you had worked with Garrett before; I practically vouched for him."

"Hill vouched for Ward. The rot was there long before either of us joined SHIELD. It is not our fault. Do you understand?"

"My mind does, but my body… I've started having nightmares."

"Victims of sexual abuse do."

Phil covered his mouth, unsure whether he wanted to throw up or cry or scream.

"Concentrate on Blake," May said, touching his back. "Phil, we can still find out where he is, and make sure he's okay."

"If they've hurt him—"

"You check your soulmark constantly, so you know he's still alive. You'll feel it if he dies."

"Melinda, what if he does die? It'll be all my—"

"Not your fault, Phil. We'll find him. I've got Hill on the lookout. She told me that if she locates him, she'll get him into private care at Stark Industries."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"…Thank you."

Whiteness. Blurry whiteness. Hard to focus. Pressure on his hand.

"Felix?"

He knew that voice. Didn't he?

"Felix, it's Phil. You're in the hospital. I'm right beside you."

Phil? Soulmate. That's right.

"I won't leave you. Not until you wake up and start getting better."

Don't leave.

Felix tried to reach out. He sort of moved his hand. Phil (?) held it tighter.

"He's waking up! Nurse, he's waking up!"

Felix tried to speak, but there was something blocking the way. He peered at the dark blur above him.

"Shh," Phil said. "Don't push yourself. You've been in a coma for a couple of weeks. I'll tell you more when you can process it. No, no. Don't speak. There's a breathing tube in your mouth."

"Mr. Coulson, if you could please wait outside…"

Wasn't it Agent Coulson?

"He's my soulmate."

"And you haven't bonded with him. The record says you met thirty years ago?"

"About that."

"And you never bonded with him, in all that time."

"He…" Phil's voice broke. "He didn't want to. I want… but he didn't."

"Since he rejected you, you don't have permission to be in here."

"Please, he's—"

"He's perfectly safe. You don't need to be here for the examination."

There was a sigh. The pressure left his hand. Felix barely managed to focus on Phil before the man left, never looking back.

"I've gotta admit," the nurse said, moving the back of the bed up. "I wouldn't wait three decades to bond with my soulmate. I wouldn't even wait three weeks."

Felix's head cleared gradually. He remembered the day he met Phil Coulson. Barely out of school, friends with Nick Fury, notorious Captain America fan, and with a cheeky smile that took Felix's breath away. He got on well with other new recruits, and Felix was the only one who hadn't met him yet. He'd been off on a mission and had a broken arm, among other injuries; but paperwork called, and it wasn't his dominant arm. It's not like he was in any fit state to go into the field, so he may as well be productive.

"Blake, get over here!" Fury called. Arching an eyebrow, coffee in hand, Felix wandered over. He half-smiled at Phil, who smiled widely back. It took Felix everything not to drop his mug. "Felix Blake, Phil Coulson."

"Was it a clean break?" Phil said, gesturing to the cast.

"Better than the alternative," Felix said, dazed. He couldn't believe it. Phil Coulson was his soulmate?

"Well, what d'you know?" Phil said. If possible, his smile grew wider. "I'd shake your hand, but…" He nodded at the coffee.

"Never try to separate Blake from his coffee," Fury said. He was too perceptive, his eyes flicking from Felix to Phil. "Soulmates? Should've seen that coming." He turned to Felix. "Phil likes his coffee, but he has a weakness for mini doughnuts. And Captain America."

"Nick," Phil said, dropping his gaze.

"Felix lives on coffee, is a stickler for the rules – have fun getting him to break them – and likes strange artefacts. Good dates would include going to museums. 'Having coffee' could actually not be a euphemism with the two of you." He patted them both on the shoulder. "Good luck."

What Fury said about Felix going by the book was true, and he found out that Phil was, despite the grin, a follower of the rules as well. They spent lunches together while Felix recovered, and went to three museums in a day as a celebration when he was given a clean bill of health. They also went out for drinks after each successful mission.

They weren't even tipsy the night that Phil kissed Felix outside his quarters at SHIELD. Felix wasn't expecting it. He liked it, leaned into it, let Phil press him against a wall…

Then he remembered that Phil was not only a co-worker, but a level below Felix, and there were rules. There was no mention of exceptions for soulmates.

Of course he'd checked. He'd checked because he wanted to know whether or not he could be with Phil Coulson.

"Stop," he said, pushing Phil backwards. He understood the look of confusion.

"Felix—"

"We can't. It's against SHIELD regulations."

"But—"

"I'm sorry, but it's not worth the risk of getting in trouble."

Phil opened his mouth, and Felix tried to prepare himself for another argument. If he wasn't careful, he'd give in…

"You're right," Phil said. "I thought you could… but no. Not worth it. You're right. Uh, good night, Fe… Agent Blake."

Felix swallowed, nodding. "Good night, Agent Coulson."

He'd regretted it for thirty years. No more. Felix had nearly died; Deathlok and the Clairvoyant were real threats. He had to get in and ask Phil for a second chance before John Garrett could hook him.

Felix looked like he was sleeping so peacefully that Phil didn't want to disturb him. But he'd been asked for a few times, so he went. He couldn't not go to his soulmate. It was the man who'd ordered him to throw Jemma off the bus… but it was also the man who'd given them the opportunity to follow Deathlok. It didn't come to anything, but the quick-thinking under fire was so damn Felix.

Phil decided to wait. If he had to wait more than an hour, he'd leave. Probably. It wasn't as if they were bonded. He wished… but he could wish everything under the sun and it wasn't any more likely to come true.

Felix stirred when Phil touched his hand. It took half a minute before he was clear-eyed and focused.

"Hello," Phil said.

"Phil."

"I'm here."

"Mmm. I know."

"How are you feeling?"

"No clean break."

Phil inhaled through his teeth. That was…

"No," he said. "I guess not. Are you in pain?"

Felix shook his head. He squeezed Phil's hand weakly, and clumsily weaved their fingers together. Phil frowned, and met Felix's eyes. There was something… strange about his expression. His eyes never left Phil's face, and he seemed to be trying to tell him something, or beg him.

"What is it?" he asked. Felix grimaced. "Do you need a nurse? A doctor?"

"You."

"What… what about me?"

"Need you. Want…"

No. It wasn't happening. Not after all this time. Phil had died and come back to life. They'd both been hospitalised numerous times. Felix had had plenty of chances to do this if near-death brought clarity. He was misunderstanding something.

"What do you need me to do?"

Felix growled, and then started coughing. Phil helped him drink some water, and rubbed his back.

"I think I should tell you about what's been happening since Deathlok shot you."

"No," he said. "Not yet."

"Tell me what you need me to do, Felix. Anything."

Felix closed his eyes. "Second chance. Please."

"…I don't understand. Second chance—?"

"Me." He inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Should've said 'Screw the rules'. You're my damn soulmate. If… if you could give me another chance…"

He looked away from Phil and swallowed visibly. Phil could hardly breathe.

"After all this time?" he said.

"Every day." Felix met his gaze again. "Since then. Tried to tell you, but you avoided me. Can't blame you. Never stopped… wanting to say something. You moved on. But if there's a chance… I saw the way Garrett looked at you." Phil tensed. "Please tell me you're not with him."

"No," Phil said. "I'm not with him. I'll never be with him."

"Really?"

"He's dead."

Felix's eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Phil. You were friends—"

"I killed him."

"You… what?"

"Turns out that he was the Clairvoyant, and that HYDRA infiltrated SHIELD from the start," Phil said. "There's no more SHIELD. Well, technically. Nick Fury has faked his death and left me in charge of rebuilding. Now I'm Director Coulson."

Felix's face fell.

"I… don't know what to say," he said.

"I think… I should clarify a couple of things," Phil said, leaning forward and making sure that he had Felix's full attention. "No SHIELD, so no regulations. No levels. 'Director' is just a title; everyone has equal say, as long as they have a lanyard."

"Lanyard?"

"Long story. As soon as I can, I'm taking you to our new base, The Playground. I hope you're truthful, because there's a lie detector to get past."

"No special treatment for the director's bonded soulmate?"

Phil's breath caught. "Not… bonded." Felix shut his eyes. "You're in no condition for that. We'll have to wait until you get the all-clear."

"You want to?"

"I'm pathetic and a masochist. I hate that I kept loving you. I'm still damn in love with you thirty years on, which sucks, by the way. I hate you, and your stupid coffee, and your sarcastic smile, and I want to kiss you breathless right now."

"Is that a good idea?"

"Probably not."

"Do it anyway." Phil tried not to look shocked; clearly, he failed. "We're agents of SHIELD, Phil. We live life on the edge anyway. Kiss me."

"Bossy bastard."

"I haven't had any coffee for a month."

"I'll fix that as soon as you're cleared for caffeine."

Huh?

No one requested this pairing, which is quite right, because we see them together in the show and we know they've known each other for a long time.

BUT! I wanted to write – and indeed wrote a very long scene – involving sex pollen and the mutually unrequited pairing of Blake/Coulson. Then I decided to do what I ended up doing (i.e. the above chapter), and this was the result. I honestly can't justify breaking my rule, aside from the fact that I didn't want to do this as a standalone, and since the characters don't get together until the end… anyway.

Hope no one hates it. And that things as suitably squirmy knowing that Garrett's the bad guy.

Anyway.

Please review!