Actions

Work Header

Now I Wanna Be a Good Boy

Summary:

Coulson is stressed. Skye helps. Shipscuses. Title taken from the Ramones song of the same name.

Work Text:

 

"Shit."

The plate clattered to the floor, smashed into pieces.

Coulson stood next to the cabinet in the commisarry, staring at his shaking hand.

When it wouldn't stop, he clenched his fist shut, his mouth turned upside down in frustration.

"Hi."

He turned suddenly, his face unmasked and the fear was there trembling in it, just like his hand had moments before.

Skye stared back at him shyly from near the door, holding her hands together, toying with her fingers, nervously.

"It's just a plate, sir."

Coulson took a breath and kneeled, began picking up the shattered pieces off the floor.

"Dammit," he said, pulling his hand away and sucking his sliced finger into his mouth.

"I'll get a broom," she offered walking towards one of the closets.

"No," he said firmly, steadying his voice. "No, I'll clean it up."

She watched him shrink, seemingly smaller, as he gathered up the pieces. It reminded her of something, all too familiar.

Six, and helping with cleanup after the evening meal, daydreaming, standing in the line, holding her dirty plate and pretending it had magic and could take her anywhere. She got a little carried away and the plate had slipped, ending up on the floor.

Sister Morgan had told her that was why they didn't have nice plates here, but in other places, they had nice plates with children that cared about those kinds of things. She walked away after telling her to pick it up. All of it. To show she cared.

"It's just a plate, sir," she repeated.

"I said..." he started, turning to her, raising his voice.

Skye stared over at his back, slammed the cabinet door open, grabbing his attention, and took out a plate.

With a defiant face, she dashed the plate onto the concrete floor.

Coulson's mouth dropped open.

"What are you?!..."

She took out another plate, set her tongue against her teeth, staring back at him, and tossed it to the ground as it shattered, likewise, all over the floor.

"Stop it," he said, annoyed, his brow furrowing, getting to his feet.

The next one came out, and a smirk caught the corner of her mouth. She handed the plate to him as he took it curiously from her.

"That one's yours," she said.

He tried to play it off as a joke, giving a nervous chuckle, but she stared back at him with a steely gaze.

"Smash it, Coulson."

"No," he said, swallowing.

"Do. It."

She grabbed with plate out of his hand and tossed it on the ground, then laughed as he glanced between her and the ground.

"This is the best idea you ever had," she said.

"It wasn't an idea, Skye. I dropped my damn plate, because..."

"I know," she said, nodding, peering into his glassy eyes.

"You can't," he answered.

"That there's something wrong with you," she continued. "And...you can't help it. So, let's do this."

"It's just...destructive," he said, shaking his head.

"And it feels...really good," she said, handing him a new plate.

"I signed the purchase order for these plates, like, six months ago. People got shot at for these plates."

"So, what you're saying is that...you can't," she said, putting her hand on her hip, challenging him.

"I could if I had to," he said, swallowing again.

"Do you need permission?" she asked, watching him fidget with the plate, touching it, turning it. Cagey.

"Okay."

She put her arm around his shoulder, grabbing his arm, leaning into his ear.

"I want to see you smash it, Phillip."

The color raised in his cheeks and he pressed his lips together and then tossed the plate onto the floor.

As it broke apart, she watched his eyebrows raise and a pleased expression cross his face.

He looked like he was five years old.

"What do you think?" she asked, watching him stare at the shattered remains of the plate.

"Awesome," he said, turning back to her with a brilliant smile, then noting the proximity of their faces, he looked down.

"Great!" she said, sliding her hand back into the cabinet, handing him another. "Here you go."

He took the plate in his hand and dashed it against the floor.

"First one was better," he said with a shrug, letting out a deep breath.

Skye settled herself onto the countertop and handed him another plate.

"Put a little wrist action into it," she said, pressing her lips into a pout, looking over his shoulders down at the floor.

The next plate went shattering out in an arc.

"Cool," she said.

"Wish...we had some music," he remarked, turning back to her and rolling up his sleeves, reaching for another plate.

Skye smiled, watching the energy bouncing around inside him, biting her lower lip.

"What?" he asked, stopping, eyes locked on her.

She didn't reply, just looked up at him slowly through her lashes, trying to hide her smile.

"Let's just do this," he said quietly, like it was the most ordinary thing, ever, and reaching past her into the cabinet, he set all the remaining plates carefully on the counter. She watched as he lined them up neatly, adjusted them, about a dozen, give or take. Just so, beside her.

Then he stepped forward, standing between her knees, and slid his arm out and stared at her as he knocked the rest of the plates off the counter, clattering, banging, crashing, breaking, landing on top of one another on the floor.

She watched the destruction with unabandoned excitement and then felt his mouth on her neck, his fingers digging into her hips.

Her eyes closed and she groaned as he jerked her towards him, sending her hair into her face. His mouth paused over hers for just a moment as he brushed away her hair, chest falling and rising, looking at each other and then tangled themselves in a wild kiss.

"Holy Moses, what happened here?!"

They stopped kissing and turned to Koenig staring at the floor then up at them with a reflexive, startled expression.

"Wow! Major violation! I don't think I need to tell you both that this does not follow standard protocol."

"Wedon'thaveIt'srelaxationtherapyprotocols," Skye and Coulson said at the same time, looking over at Koenig.

"He's not talking about the plates," Coulson said under his breath.

"Also, relaxation therapy," she answered, very much making a point.

"Is this going to continue?" Koenig asked, interrupting them staring at one another, glaring at them with his arms crossed, tapping his foot.

"YesAlot," they said together.

Skye turned to smile at Coulson.

"A lot?" she asked, a tiny pleased sound escaping from her.

His hands dug into her thighs as he shrugged, raising his eyebrows.

"A lot," Skye said with a nod, confirming to Koenig.

"Okay, so...I'm going to back away," he said, actually stepping backwards, watching his feet. "Pretend I never saw this," he added pointing at them with both fingers. "And you two, can be in charge of cleanup. Deal?"

He watched them go back to making out as if he'd never even been there.

"Deal," he said, with a chuckle, looking away and shutting the door behind him.