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Near Mint	By : OmniaVanitus Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 2735 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
"Stupid, stupid, stupid! And cruel! And very stupid!"
The threat from HYDRA had been dealt with and now they were all back on the Bus, flying to the secret bunker Fury had set up for Coulson and what was left of his team. It had been a long day, ending with one of his own being severally injured, currently laying in the plane's infirmary in a coma he might not ever come out of, and another betraying them to HYDRA. But despite all of this, Coulson was still pissed about the T.A.H.I.T.I. project.
Fury collapsed into an armchair with a tired sigh. "I think you've made your point."
"Have I? Clearly I didn't think it was a good idea. I even warned you about the risks involved, about people losing their minds. Why bring me back when you knew what could happen?"
"It was a 'break glass in case of an emergency' situation. You are fine, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am," Coulson answered, sounding exasperated. "But that 'emergency' was supposed to be the fall of an Avenger."
"My point exactly," Fury said as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, "and I'm damn glad I did it, too." He paused, taking a moment to climb to his feet again as he dug a hand into a pocket of his brown leather jacket. "Before it was torn apart, SHIELD was a lot of moving parts and guys like you were the heart." He pulled out a small black cubed and held it out to the other agent. "Now, you'll be the head."
Coulson took the cube, turning it back and forth in his hand curiously. "What is it?"
"Something to help you build it back up."
"You want me to rebuild SHIELD," Coulson asked incredulously.
"From scratch," Fury confirmed. "Look, when you want to build something, you start with a strong foundation. And the principle SHIELD was founded upon was pure: protection. Sometimes to protect one man from himself, other times to protect the planet against an alien invasion. It's a pretty broad job description. And the belief behind that principle is the same, whether it's one man or all of mankind."
"That their worth saving," Coulson supplied.
Fury nodded in agreement. "You know how few people I trust, Coulson."
"You can count them on one hand."
"And I'm not afraid to cut off fingers, either. There's no one else I trust with this. So, take your time and do it right." He slowly made his way to the doorway, turning back to face the newly made director.
"How do you," Coulson shook his head dumbfounded, "how should I proceed, Sir?"
"That's up to you now, Director."
"What about you, what will you be doing?"
"I'll be trading in my bird's eye view for two solid feet on the ground. This will be the last time you see me for awhile."
"You're just going to disappear, nowhere to be found?"
"Nowhere? You know me better than that, Phil," Fury said, pulling down the pair of blackout shades he'd been wearing, revealing two perfect, dark brown eyes. "I'll be everywhere."
The mass of scars over Fury's left eye was still there, but the eye itself had been healed and Coulson knew instantly where Fury's 20/20 vision had come from and the look Fury was giving him said it all.
"He'll be your problem now too, Director. Make good use of him."

Not long after that, Fury had taken off in a quinjet to god only knew where, leaving Coulson behind to contemplate his next move.
He was in his office, the mysterious black cube sitting idly on top of the desk before him. Coulson still didn't know what the hell it was or how it was supposed to help him. How does someone even go about rebuilding an international spy organization anyway?
SHIELD had been completely fractured, with so many of its agents turning out to be HYDRA spies and the remainder being gunned down by the former. On top of that, he was still technically listed as dead and the few people he trusted outside of his group still believed that. Not to mention he had no idea what to do with the Asgardian mischief maker, and the migraine that was currently throbbing behind his blue eyes was not helping him at all.
A thoughtful hum sounded to his right and a familiar pale hand snaked out to grab hold of the little cube. Fan-fucking-tastic.
"Loki," he said wearily.
"Director Coulson," the god replied with an amused grin. "What an interesting turn of events."
"Did you know this would happen?"
"Which parts exactly? The fall of your precious SHIELD? Betrayal at the hands of one of your own? Or perhaps you are referring to your new title?"
"Any of it," Coulson said with a careless, halfhearted shrug.
Loki tilted his head to the side. "No. I may be a god, but I am not omniscient."
"You knew about T.A.H.I.T.I.," he accused.
Loki tossed the small cube up into the air, catching it deftly in one hand only to repeat the process a few more times. "Regardless of how much effort your predecessor took in keeping this secret from you, Heimdall sees all."
"Did you know about the side effects?"
"I knew that despite the care they took in reviving you, you still begged for death. Though I imagine you're concerned with more than just suicidal thoughts."
The new director paused, taking a moment to decide on just how much he should divulge as he watched the god continue to toss the black cube into the air. "The GH-325, the serum that was used on myself and Skye, has been known to cause mental deterioration. Madness." They were both fine, but John Garret had gone off the deep end faster than Stark could down a bottle of Jack Daniel's finest.
Loki set the cube back down on the desk and leaned in, whispering seductively. "There is a pleasure in being mad, which none but madmen know."
Coulson blinked in recognition. "John Dryden, nice. While I've been dealing with HYDRA, you've been off reading poetry."
It was Loki's turn to shrug. "Was it not a few days ago that you were singing the merits of having a hobby?"
Coulson shook his head, rubbing at his temples tiredly. His migraine was now officially kicking his ass.
"I am curious," the god began, "as to what the source of your little serum was."
Carding a hand through his thinning hair, Coulson stared up at the god leaning a hip against the edge of his desk. "It was an alien."
Loki cocked a thin eyebrow at that. "Care to be more specific?"
"A blue alien?"
"Well that hardly narrows it down," the god scoffed. "How blue?"
"Loki..." Did he mention it had been a long fucking day?
The mischievous god pushed off from the desk, sidling in closer to the other man and without waiting for permission, pressed an unusually cool hand to Coulson's forehead. A wave of familiar magic swept through him, soothing away his migraine almost immediately.
The agent stared up at the dark god with wide blue eyes. "Why did you do that?"
"For purely selfish reasons I assure you." Loki slid his hand down the side of his mortal's face before curling around the back of his neck, scraping blunt fingernails against his nape. The god tugged him forward then, crushing their lips together in a chaste kiss.
Coulson sighed against the god's mouth, feeling Loki's thin lips quirk into a half smirk in response.
"Missed me have you?"
Maybe. "No." Definitely not.
Loki tutted softly, flicking his tongue out to tease along the seam of other man's lips. He hoisted Coulson up out of the chair he'd been occupying and spun them both around, trapping the agent against the edge of the solid oak desk. Their lips met again, Loki's cold, insistent hands stroking up and down the director's sides.
Coulson's own hands had settled on the god's narrow hips, his fingers twitching with the urge to pull the lean body closer and do some exploring of their own, but he resisted. Barely.
His suit jacket was discarded, thrown haphazardly over the arm of the now vacant desk chair, before Loki finally pulled away, his green eyes dark and mischievous.
"Come along, Phillip," the god said as he backed away, tugging playfully on the thin black tie still in place around the director's neck.
Coulson followed along obediently, almost eagerly, not that he'd ever admit that, after the god to his own private quarters on the large plane. "Why is it you always seem to know where the beds are?"
The god chuckled softly, not bothering to offer up an answer as he pushed the other man onto the bed face down, giving a casual wave of his hand and watching as the remainder of his mortal's clothing dissolved in an emerald haze of seiðr.
He knew before the cold air hit his skin what the ripple of magic was for and that, at the very least, he should be protesting this...whatever this was with the fallen god, but with the stress and strain built up from the day's events, Coulson really didn't want to bicker.
"You're unusually quiet tonight," Loki commented as he crawled in after him, shifting so he was straddling the agent's hips.
Coulson harrumphed in response, doing his best to ignore the way Loki's leather clad groin felt as it rubbed against his bare skin. A flash of green light out of the corner of his closed eyes caught his attention, followed by the feel of oil being dribbled onto his back. He tensed, feeling the god's cold hands press into his back, and cast a suspicious glance over his shoulder at the man straddling him.
Loki gave him an impish grin, poking a long, bony finger into his cheek to make him lay his head back down on the pillow before returning his hands to the broad expanse of his back.
The director relaxed slowly as skilled fingers worked over tight muscles and hard knots, the oil heating as it was massaged into his skin and he hummed in appreciation.
"I noticed you healed Fury's eye," the agent stated.
"And?"
"Nothing. Though I'm curious why you didn't proposition him with a little tryst of his own."
"I did offer your predecessor an opportunity for such," Loki admitted, "but he chose to shoot me instead."
"I shot you, too," Coulson pointed out in a pleased purr when Loki kneaded a particular spot on his back.
"Repeatedly."
Coulson blinked his eyes open at that, eyeing the god over his shoulder once again. "You let him shoot you more than once?"
Loki huffed in irritation. "It's not like he asked permission first," he growled.
The director's blue eyes twinkled in amusement as he made a mocking moueing noise in the back of his throat.
Unamused, the god's poisonous green eyes darkened and his fingers dug into tender flesh. "We've been getting along so well together as of late. Let us not fall out now." Loki dragged his blunt nails along the raised edges of the scar tissue on his back, sister to the one on his chest and the entry wound from Loki's attack with the Chitauri spear.
It had been a cleaner wound, not quite as vicious looking, but a good inch or so longer. Being on his back, Coulson often forgot it was there, but as the mad god drew his fingernails along the seam he felt as though he was being impaled all over again as Loki sent a bolt of magic lancing through him. The end result? A sudden orgasm that was equal parts pain and pleasure and so intense it made the room spin and left his limp cock twitching in confusion.
He came down slowly, the blinding white fading from his wide eyes as he felt Loki, still poised above him, stroking up and down his sides, cooing words of encouragement into his ear. The fallen god shifted, grinding his now equally naked form against him before sliding into him with ease. Coulson hadn't even noticed himself being prepared, too consumed with the orgasm that had just been ripped out of him.
Loki shifted again, rolling them over until they were laying on their sides together, spooning. Coulson's back was pulled flush against Loki's chest, his strong pale arms folding around him, locking him in place. A stray hand drifted down to lazily stroke and palm his oversensitive member, bringing it hardness and easily matching the slow, languid pace the god had set.
He was trembling, his limbs twitching uncontrollably, unaware that one of his own hands was now clenched around the god's forearm in a white knuckled death grip. Coulson wasn't sure if he was trying to stop the audacious hand fisting him or encourage it. Either way, the director was more concerned with the fluttering in his chest that was making it difficult to breathe.
It wasn't the scars or some tingly wave of magic Loki was sending through him, but it was unsettling and oddly familiar and the gentle, almost tender thrusts the god was giving was not helping. Coulson shook his head, trying to clear the haze and block out the endearing words the god was still muttering into his ear, but didn't work.
He didn't want this, this slow pace and gentle words. It was far too close to lovemaking and the flutter of emotion was making his chest feel tight.
"Either go faster or stop," Coulson finally snapped, rocked his hips back angrily against the god's and impaling himself harder on the cock lodged inside him. Loki's arm tightened around him and the strong hand stroking him strayed to his hip, forcing him to stop, but he didn't pull out.
"Is something wrong," the god asked in a sex roughened voice laced with confusion.
But the unbridled emotion stuttering in his chest hadn't lessened and Coulson couldn't breathe. "Get off me."
As soon as Loki's arms went lax Coulson bolted out of bed, pointedly ignoring the embarrassing squelching noise as the god's cock slipped out of him. He was breathing hard, verging on hyperventilating, as he paced back and forth, uncaring that he was still naked and rock hard and that the god occupying his bed was in the same condition.
"You don't get to do that," he said as he stalked from one side of the room to the other, shaking his head angrily. "Sex is one thing, but that," he said pointing to the bed, "that is unacceptable."
Loki shifted on the bed uncertainly, his face a blank mask. "Would you prefer it if I left?"
Coulson stopped mid step, raising a hand up to before the other man made to get up. "No, stay," he demanded. He forced himself to take a deep, calming breath, settling his hand on his hips.
Something was changing between them, but he wasn't sure what or if he should even allow it.
Blue eyes met green and Coulson made his decision, taking a slow, tentative step forward. He reached out a hand, pulling the god closer and pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss that he easily deepened, fisting a hand in inky black hair.
The director pulled back. "Hands and knees, now," he commanded, noticed the shiver of excitement that ran up Loki's spine and the pleased glimmer in his bright green eyes.
A moment later Loki was in position, his ass raised in the air. Coulson was mildly surprised, he hadn't thought the god would actually comply with the demand and certainly not as eagerly. He slid in behind the pale, long limbed body cautiously, half believing it was some sort of trap even as his cock throb with anticipation.
"Where's the oil?"
"Don't waste time, Phillip," the god said. "Fuck me."
This was different, definitely different. While he might not have said no those previous times, Coulson didn't exactly encourage it either. And this...this was active participation.
Still, he guided the flared head of his erection to Loki's unprepared entrance, pressing in slowly. He had meant to give the god time to adjust, but Loki's body had sucked him hungrily, down to the root, and by the time he was fully seated, Coulson was gasping for breath and Loki was all but purring. His pace was uneven at first, but he leveled out quickly, his fingers digging into to alabaster skin so hard that he was certain there would be bruises.
Loki rolled his hips, taking him in deeper and making him rub against the god's prostate hard enough to make him cry out his given name, and damn if that didn't make the flutter in his chest return full force.
Coulson huffed in exasperation, his fingers digging in even more.
The god shifted under him, bracing himself on a forearm while his free hand disappeared between his thighs. Coulson batted it away instantly, replacing it with one of his own as he began fisting the god's neglected cock, silently enjoying the way it pulsed and twitched in his strong grip and the god's needy little moans.
Loki came first, crying out and spilling over the agent's fist as Coulson bit down on a pale shoulder, empting deep inside the god's willing body. Breathing hard, Coulson pulled out carefully before allowing himself to flop down onto the bed in a boneless heap.
He blinked up at the ceiling, feeling Loki's gaze on him, and he turned his head. The god's expression was unreadable, but it made the flutter in his chest twist and grow. Whatever it was, Loki must have seen, his thin lips tugging down before his mask slid into place again.
Loki sat up slowly, moving to get out bed, but Coulson's hand shot out, stopping him. The dark god stilled, and at the agent's gentle coaxing, let himself be pulled back into bed. Coulson wrapped an arm around his back, pleased to feel the other man practically melt against his side as he fell asleep.

He awoke, hard and needy and with a salacious moan on his lips. His brain was still hazy, but he was acutely aware of the greedy mouth and hot tongue sucking and licking at the prominent scar on his chest and inky black hair framing his view.
Coulson doesn't panic this time, for which his oddly grateful, but he does berate himself internally for accepting this arrangement so easily.
An instant later and Loki is straddling him, a pale hand braced atop the scar was just mouthing while the other curls around their hard cocks, fisting them together.
Coulson admits his own hand to the act, lacing their fingers together and bucking up into their joined fists.
Loki was staring down at him, his green eyes half lidded and so dark they were nearly black.
And this time its Coulson who comes first, spilling over their joined hands and bucking up against Loki's length, sending him over the edge as well. Loki's arm gives out under the force of his orgasm and he collapses atop Coulson's chest, their hands pinned between them their bodies, still clasped together around their sated cocks.
Loki untangles their hands, shifting slightly and settled against his side once more. His long fingers played over his skin, painting patterns in his flesh with their blended and cooling spunk.
"I've been meaning to thank you," Coulson says quietly. "For helping Skye."
"Despite the possibility of her going insane, you mean."
"If she...if we were going to go mad, then we would have by now."
Loki hums noncommittally, his fingers still playing their spend.
"Which is why I have a proposition for you. How would you feel about becoming a consultant for SHIELD?"
Loki gave a low, throaty chuckle. "Oh you must be truly desperate if you're asking for my help."
"I need people I can trust."
An almost disappointed look crossed the god's face and he rolled his eyes. "Who'd have thought your trust was so easily gained, and after only making you come but a handful of times."
"It'll take more than fucking me through my mattress to win me over, Loki."
The god's eyes glittered with approval at that. "Well said, Director."
"And as for trust," Coulson continued, " I trust you to do what's in your best interest and, for the time being, that is continuing on with your probation. You said yourself that you didn't know how to go about this. Or are you so full of yourself that you think everything can be solved with your cock?"
"Who said it had to be my cock?"
"Loki," Coulson warned.
"I accept."
Coulson blinked, stunned. "What?"
"I said I accept," he repeated, leaning down to press a kiss to Coulson's slack jaw. "But before that, I have one more token of apology to give you." Loki draws his lips up to slide against the agent's. He pulled back slightly, his brow knitting together curiously. "Aren't you going to answer that?"
Coulson jerked suddenly as his cell phone blared to life off to the side, having lain forgotten in the pocket of his pants. He lets out a breath, realizing then that the fallen god had disappeared in that split second he had been distracted.
Shaking his head, Coulson quickly slid out of his warm bed to root through his neatly folded clothing on the floor and fish out his phone. He sat back down on the bed, swiping a finger along the screen to answer the call, the caller ID coming up as unknown.
"Hello?"
"Agent Coulson?"
His eyes widened with recognition. Audrey Nathan, the cellist.
And its only then that he realizes what that uneasy flutter in his chest was from the night before.
Goodbye.

A/N: Right now I'm at a crossroads with this story and I'll tell you why. If I stick with my original plan, this will be the last chapter of Near Mint and I would move on with Part 2 of the Atonement Series. From the start, I had intended on this story being rather short (as well as the future stories in this series), which meant that everything needed to happen rather quickly.
But, I'm really digging this pairing and I'm considering continuing on with Near Mint and dropping the rest of the series. It would still progress with what I had in mind for the series, but I would be sticking with the Loki/Coulson pairing.
I don't know, so I'd like some input on which direction I should take. Either way, the Black Widow will be next up to make an appearance.
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Near Mint