Note: I had so much fun looking up slang of the 70s and 80s to use in the first scene.

"Moments to Remember"

1985

"You nerd," Nick Fury said, clinking his glass with Phil's. "A SHIELD agent, and you wanted to see Back to the Future for your twenty-first birthday."

"It was awesome," Phil Coulson, the birthday boy, said.

"It was embarrassing for me to sit with you."

"I thought it was hilarious," John Garrett said, sitting beside Phil. "It was like being at a live show. Remind me to take you to a pantomime, you dweeb."

"I'm twenty-one now," Phil sang.

"And I'm taking you to more bars. You're a damn lightweight."

"Not drunk, just happy." Fury rolled his eyes. "Chill, Nick."

"You were worse than any of the kids there," he reminded Phil.

"It's already a major hit. One day, you're gonna look back and say, 'Yep, I saw it at the movies in the first week'."

"Can we get the kid another drink?" John asked the bartender. "It's his twenty-first today."

"Hell, why didn't you say so?" the guy said. "It's on the house."

Phil grinned behind the rim of the glass. "Thanks."

"Are you stoked about being legal?"

"Best part is that I can drink with my friends now," Phil said.

"Aw, you dork." John elbowed him. "Now go find some nice – or not so nice – gal to lose your cherry to." Phil nearly inhaled his beer. "Or guy, if you want. Just be careful."

"You trying to kill me, Garrett?"

"Trying to get you to do the nasty with someone. At your age I'd al—"

"Some people are waiting for their soulmates," Phil said, now warier of drinking. He never knew what was gonna come out of John Garrett's mouth.

"So what're your plans for tomorrow?" Fury said. "Since you've got the day off in case of a hangover."

"I won't get a hangover. We're having fries; it'll soak up the alcohol." As if to illustrate the point, he swallowed more of his drink before taking a handful of fries and shoving a few into his mouth at a time.

He decided on two drinks as his limit, despite the barman's offer of more. Then he wandered off to the bathroom, still able to walk in a straight line. He noticed a guy with sideburns and tufty hair in a dark corner by the bathroom doors, smoking something and watching the crowds, a glass of some dark liquid in his other hand. He met Phil's eyes and his eyebrows drew together. Unnerved, Phil hurried into the bathroom to relieve himself. After washing and drying his hands, he went back out, and tried to avoid the stranger's gaze. But he became trapped there, and swallowed as the man stood up and approached him.

"No need to look so nervous," he said.

Phil was glad he didn't have anything breakable in his hands.

"Buy me a birthday drink?" he asked. The man's grin grew.

"Think I'd rather take you somewhere private," he said, running a rough-nailed finger up Phil's bare arm.

"Really? I mean, yeah. Maybe you could show me your soulmark?"

"I've been waitin' a long time for you."

"Twenty-one years exactly."

"Happy birthday. And… it feels longer than that." Phil watched him stub out the cigar and drain the rest of whatever his drink was. "Ever had bourbon?"

"No."

"You will one day. Come back to my place?"

Phil nodded. "I've gotta tell my friends."

"I'll be right behind you."

The man – his name was Logan, it turned out – took Phil to a motel. It looked kinda rundown on the outside, but the room was comfortable and clean, and unopened lube and condoms were provided. He'd meant to talk to his soulmate first, find out more about him, but Logan insisted on making sure their writing matched. He took one look at the words scribbled just below the crook of Phil's knee on the back of his right leg, and then he pounced, shoving Phil onto the bed and devouring his mouth like their lives depended on it. Clothes were torn off (in the case of Phil's shirt, literally), and it was while Logan was scrabbling in the nightstand that Phil thought to ask about his soulmark. In answer, Logan stripped off his jeans – no underwear for him – and showed Phil his left butt cheek.

"Oh," Phil said, blushing furiously.

"We don't have t' bond tonight," Logan said. "But my, my, I'm gonna enjoy it when we do."

Phil could only make pathetic whimpering noises as he was stripped the rest of the way and then fingered open. He clutched Logan's shoulders, deciding that conversation could definitely wait until later. Or the morning. He ran his hands over a highly muscled chest, fingers twirling through thick hairs, and marvelled at his good fortune.

"You're gorgeous," he said, shaking his head. "Damn, I must've done something good in a past life."

"I prefer lookin' t'wards the future," Logan said.

"Future. Yeah. Like you being inside me. That's a pretty good future."

"Better make sure your prediction comes true," the man said with a feral grin. Then he slid inside, and Phil shuddered, his head dropping back.

"Slowly," he said. "I wanna savour this."

"Your first time?"

"Yeah. Waited for you."

"Fuck, I like the sound-a that."

Phil keened as Logan moved faster, like a piston, thrusting so deep he could almost taste it and making him come before he could even think of touching himself. He hooked his leg around Logan's waist, desperate to keep him inside even as his raw nerves ached.

"Can we bond?" he begged. "I know we shouldn't, but—"

"Not losing you," Logan said. "Won't let anyone take you away. Yeah, go ahead, Phil. Bond with me."

Phil moved his leg down until the marks aligned. The breath left his lungs as an invisible tether formed between them, moving through their bodies from wherever they touched and outwards, until it surrounded them. He found Logan's mouth and kissed him, pulled him deeper with his leg, and trembled as he hit another climax in tandem with Logan jerking into him and finishing. The soulbond objected to that one barrier, but with the fears of HIV, they couldn't risk it.

The kiss slowed as the bond settled, warm and safe. Neither could bring themselves to part, and stayed where they were until the warmth faded, and the cool of the room began to freeze the perspiration on their bodies. Logan pulled out and rolled to the side, and Phil gathered enough energy to curl up, throwing an arm over his soulmate's torso.

"Wow," he said. "Hell of a first time."

"It'll only get better," Logan said. "`F we bond every time…"

"I don't know whether my body could handle it. I almost passed out at least twice."

Logan smirked. "Next time you won't make it seven minutes before you black out."

"Guarantee?"

"Ask me in half an hour, when you wake up."

"Time for a cat nap?"

"Time for conversation, then round two."

Phil had to leave in the morning, his unsteady legs grateful for Logan's motorbike, although the vibrations were hell. He had no regrets, though, and words weren't necessary as a conversation of feelings told them everything they needed to know. The bond hummed beneath Phil's skin as he kissed his soulmate goodbye, promising to call him as soon as work permitted.

In the two weeks that followed, they met as often as they could, and ten of the nights they spent together in bed, reaffirming the bond. Neither had an apartment, Logan a constant traveller and Phil living on base while he trained, so motels it was.

Fury and Garrett both kept his secret, although Phil had to submit a form with his soulmate's details. Nick had been on the phone when Phil went to them, but John promised to tell him that Phil was with his soulmate, and since Nick hadn't mentioned it, Phil hadn't, either.

Then two days later, while they were on a date, disaster struck in the form of knock-out darts. Phil struggled to remain conscious, but it was a losing battle, and the last thing he saw was Logan reaching out for him.

He woke, confused and surrounded by white and beeping. He looked to the side, and saw someone familiar in a chair by his bed. Hospital. And who was…?

"Nice to see you awake," the man said, his voice deep. "Do you remember your name?"

"Uh… it's…" He squinted. "Phil?"

"That's right. Do you know my name?" He shook his head. "Do you recognise me?"

"I've… seen you before."

"Know what year it is?" Again, he shook his head, and the stranger sighed. "My name is Nicholas Fury. We both work for an organisation called SHIELD. You were kidnapped three days ago, and you've suffered head trauma, which apparently includes amnesia. We're going to help you get back as much of your memory as you can."

"All of it?"

"Probably not, not if your memory's been wiped. If this is just temporary, you should be fine."

"O-okay. Um… how old am I?"

"You're twenty-one as of two and a half weeks ago."

"Have I found my soulmate?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Oh." Phil's heart sank. He felt so cold. "Well… how do we get my memory back?"

2014

"Let me die, please, let me die," Phil said as someone helped him out of the machine. It was Skye, he thought, but why was she there? "Let me…"

"Come on, AC, let's get you home," she said. Phil shook his head violently, and the dizziness made him feel sick. "Don't do that!"

"It hurts…"

"Yeah, so just keep still."

He leaned back against the machine, and something else, something which had been kept hidden, wormed its way past a torturous surgery and to the forefront of his mind. He gasped.

"Oh no," he whispered. "Logan."

2015

Wolverine was still working with Professor X on getting his memories back, but superhero smack-downs waited for no man, and it became every mutant against the goddamn US army.

It was Stark's fault – wasn't it always? – because some asshole named General Ross had gone after Bruce Banner. At the threat to his soulmate, Stark had declared war on the military, and broken out a hidden cache of Iron Man suits. There weren't all that many compared to the defence force, but Tony Stark was pissed, and so were the rest of the Avengers when they found out why he'd lost his mind. The Fantastic Four had declared themselves against the army in support of Banner. When the anti-super and anti-mutant crowds joined the army's side, Magneto led his team into the fray. Which meant that Charles wanted to go there and try to brook peace.

Ha. Good luck with that. But Logan went along with him as a bodyguard.

"You seriously think this'll work?" he asked Xavier.

"It must, Logan."

"Ready to crash all the TV screens in America," Kitty said.

"Good girl, pun'kin."

"Fire it up, Katherine."

Logan kept the camera aimed at the professor, sitting poised and elegant as always, and gave him the thumbs-up when the recording light switched on.

"Dear friends," Charles began, and Logan rolled his eyes.

"Whose genius idea was it to force every damn screen to be broadcast with a bald dude?" Skye said, typing away on her laptop. "I can't get anything done!"

"Our priority is making sure that citizens remain safe," Phil said.

"He's spouting some kind of 'Why can't we all get along?' garbage," she said, turning up the speakers so that they could all hear the 'inspirational' speech.

"We get that, Skye, but—"

"This has been going on for two days, DC. I think everyone's gotten the message to stay indoors."

"There are still your vigilante and bravado types," Phil said.

"Yeah, and if there's a fire in a building they can't not evacuate!"

"Right now, we're just another law enforcement agency responsible for making sure that criminals don't take advantage of this major distraction to loot stores and homes. Back in World War Two, looters were executed by hanging. I wish they still did that. Absolute scum. Like blackmailers."

"Well, lucky for us, we can beat the shit outta them," Skye said. She groaned in frustration. "If we could find the assholes!"

"Still can't hack it?" Phil said. Skye gave him an unimpressed look.

"…not working," came from the laptop. "Professor, I think this is just making it worse. No one's paying attention."

"Perhaps you should try, Katherine?" the professor said.

"Load-a bullshit, if you ask me," someone growled, presumably the cameraman.

Phil froze. He knew that voice.

"Find it," he told Skye. "Trace the signal."

"I can't," she said, waving her hands.

"Do you recognise the background?"

"No. It's pretty generic."

"They don't want to be found, I imagine," Simmons said.

"Maybe we should just make a big EMP to knock out all of the weapons being used," Fitz suggested.

"Won't that knock out all the electronics?" Phil said.

"It might."

"Some of that fighting is taking place near hospitals. We can't risk it."

"Maybe a non-flammable gas which will knock out everyone down there?" Simmons said.

"Do we have the equipment and chemicals for that?"

"No, but if we can get to a hospital or a lab or even Stark Tower—"

"Too dangerous to be anywhere near Stark Tower. I know where we can go. Come on. And, Skye?"

"Transmission's been stopped, so I'm already tracing the source," she said.

"Text me the co-ordinates when you're done."

Once FitzSimmons were settled in a learning hospital's lab, Phil followed Skye's directions to a motel. It was familiar, and he understood why. Was there some significance that his soulmate was staying in the very motel where he'd taken Phil's virginity and bonded with him so spectacularly?

He ran inside, the staff no longer bothered by surprise arrivals, and apparently beyond caring about secrecy as they gave him the room number. He fidgeted in the elevator, and burst out of the doors and along the corridor, before hammering on the door.

"What?" someone snarled, yanking the door open. Phil stared at him, his chest heaving.

"Logan," he said.

"Who are you?"

Phil swallowed. "So they took your memory that day, as well?"

"You know him?" the man in the wheelchair said. A professor, wasn't he? "I am Professor Charles Xavier. What brings you here, Agent Coulson?"

Phil met Logan's eyes. "My soulmate."

"Me?" Logan said. Phil nodded. "When did we meet?"

"About thirty years ago. My twenty-first birthday. We bonded, but then I was kidnapped, and they must have taken you as well. I only remembered you last year… and God, I'm so sorry."

"Rebuilding SHIELD has kept you busy, no doubt," Xavier said.

"How did you…? You know what? I don't care. Right now I'm more concerned about my soulmate's memory."

"Shouldn't you be concerned about what is happening out there?" he said, gesturing to the window. Phil shook his head.

"I've got people working on something to knock out everyone who's outside," he said. "It should last long enough to confiscate weapons. The time for pretty speeches has ended."

"I told him that," Logan grumbled. "Coulson, is it?"

"Phil Coulson, yes."

"C'mere."

"What…?"

Logan tugged him into a kiss. Phil certainly didn't object to that, and wrapped his arms around his soulmate's neck. It felt like the bond had been long broken, but surely it could be re-established? Selfish of him to want it, especially when…

He pulled his head back, and murmured, "How have you not aged?"

"I haven't aged since the nineteenth century."

"…Uh—"

"Maybe if we bond, I'll start to remember."

Phil's eyes probably glazed over. "I'm down with that."

"Later, perhaps," Xavier said. Phil noticed that the young woman in the room with them was pink-cheeked and looking away. "Meanwhile, there is a much more pressing matter."

As if on cue, at least two bombs exploded in the distance. Phil grew nervous for his team's safety.

"I have to check in with my people," he said. "We'll need a lot of gas masks if this works."

"Can I get your number?" Logan asked.

"I think you'd better. I can't risk losing you again." Phil grimaced briefly. "I won't lose you again."

Logan stroked his cheek. "I'll make sure of it."

I've been planning to write this for awhile, and then gosuckonalemon requested the pairing and I knew the time had come to write it. Wasn't planning to include the actual bonding scene in this, but then it happened, and the story's already rated for smut, so… yeah.

The implication is that Garrett never told Fury that Phil had met his soulmate, and that HYDRA arranged to wipe Phil's memory of Logan, and vice versa. Phil's clearance wouldn't have been high enough for him to access the asset register, but someone from SHIELD was bound to recognise Wolverine, and wouldn't want him to be on Phil's side, so they removed the problem. Then Raina's memory machine reversed that for Phil.

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