"The Problem with Sexting"

Going to b home sn? J.

I told you that I would be in a meeting. We only saw each other an hour ago.

Aw, but i miss u. J.

Phil Coulson put a block on his phone, determined to stop his boyfriend from continuing to disrupt the meeting. All messages from him would return unopened, and hopefully discourage the incessant texting.

It was his own fault, of course. When battle was over, someone suggested that all teams get together to celebrate minimal damage, no loss of life, and – of course – returning all evil sorcerers to their boxes. The younger of Professor Xavier's students couldn't go out drinking, and nor could Spiderman. But the rest of them, including the Avengers and the Fantastic Four, decided to hit the bars. Phil went with them to make sure that bar-hitting didn't turn literal.

He never expected the Human Torch to start cosying up to him. It was disconcerting, and Phil nearly turned tail and ran. But he wasn't going to let Johnny Storm intimidate him, despite the fact that his features reminded Phil of a certain team captain.

That wasn't what made him agree to a drink, nor the drinks or dinners after that. He wanted to make that clear. He didn't even know they were dating until Johnny kissed him, before taking him to bed.

It… was an intense night. Some of the sheets smouldered, but there wasn't a single scorch mark on Phil. It was impressive.

A couple of months on – depending on what could be considered their first date – Johnny was now spending half his time at Phil's place. He actually liked poking around, although Phil's Captain America room was strictly off-limits. But after they started watching a baking program (it was on just before Supernanny) Johnny decided that he wanted to try cooking. Which meant that Phil's kitchen became a nightmare zone from time to time. He didn't mind. Most of his meals were frozen dinners which could just be zapped in the microwave. Whenever Johnny hit on something good, it was… well, it was nice to have a home-cooked meal.

On the days Johnny stayed at Phil's to cook, while Phil was at SHIELD, he tended to text or email Phil every so often. Today, however, it had snowballed.

They took a break midway through the meeting. Phil unblocked Johnny's number, and a flood of messages came in.

Making strawb mffns & thnkng about last nite. J.

We can have mffns w/ cream. ;) J.

Don't b mean, P. Don't u want me 2 liven up the mtng 4 u? J.

I could do a striptease. Leave u wntng more. J.

Or I could b w8ing in ur office? J.

Mmm. In ur chair, butt naked. R u thnkng about it? I know I am. J.

I'm gttng hard thnkng about it. J.

Pleeeeeeease unblock. J.

Phil rolled his eyes as he scrolled through ten or so messages in a similar vein. Clearly Johnny wasn't concentrating on baking if he was spending half his time trying to annoy Phil. Not that it was working, of course. And not that Phil was picturing Johnny naked in his office chair, legs spread, maybe one foot propped on the edge of Phil's desk…

Damn it. And while Johnny's text speak frustrated the hell out of Phil, he still painted a pretty picture.

He glanced at the clock. Only another five minutes. How fast could he type?

Johnny heard a beep, and realised that his messages to Phil were finally going through. Either it was a short meeting, or they were taking a break. Whatever. As long as he got a rise out of Phil.

This morning had been fun, but Phil had had to leave earlier. (This was the first muffin recipe Johnny was trying which involved actual fruit, so he was okay with having more time to get it right before his boyfriend got home.) He just hoped that he hadn't gone overboard. Contrary to popular rumour, he didn't have a great deal of experience with sexting, usually because he wasn't with anyone long enough to give them a phone number. But there was something about Phil. Johnny was still trying to figure out what that something was. In the meantime, he'd take the great sex, the free use of kitchen and ingredients, and the endless supply of crappy reality TV.

He nearly dropped the spoon he was using when he heard an alert. A message. Another couple of alerts pinged up while he quickly washed his hands and dried them off. He picked up his phone as yet another message came through, and quickly scrolled through to the first one.

I have five minutes. I've made you come in less time than that before.

"What…?" Johnny blinked rapidly, wondering whether he'd misread the text. A fifth one came in, so he moved on to the second.

You've been putting ideas in my head. Ideas like spreading you out on my desk.

Can you guess what I'll do after I lay you out like a picnic? I'll leave a trail of muffin crumbs down your chest.

I'm sure you know exactly where the trail will end.

Johnny swallowed. More messages kept coming in. Good thing Phil was on an excellent phone plan. He gripped the edge of the counter, leaning back against it, and moved on to the fifth text.

I think strawberry-flavoured lube would be appropriate, don't you?

You'll stretch yourself out for me while I nibble up those crumbs. I'll take my time, of course. It's more fun that way.

When we're ready, I'm going to ease my way into you. My desk's strong enough to take both of us.

And then I'm going to fuck you hard, Johnny.

"Holy shit!" he hissed, knees jerking. He nearly ripped the button off his jeans, and after jamming the zipper halfway down, he just shoved his hand inside and tugged. The ringing almost didn't register. It was Phil's ring-tone, thankfully. Johnny answered it.

"Hello," Phil said, his voice nearly a purr. "How's it going, sweetheart? Are you there yet?"

Johnny swore again, pulling harder. "Phil," he whined. "Phil…"

"Will I see you at home, or are you coming here?"

Eyes screwed shut, Johnny wished he'd actually seen a picture of Phil's office. His imagination wasn't exactly focussed on furnishings at the moment.

"What's the matter, Johnny? Did you forget to turn on the oven…?" Then his tone changed. "I have to go now. Meeting's about to resume."

Johnny stared at the phone after Phil hung up. Talk about a mood whiplash. He noticed the last message, though, and imagined it in Phil's voice. He knew the man's body well enough that he could almost feel it pressed against his own…

Another message. Please, please, please let it be Phil.

Come, Johnny.

With a tight squeeze, Johnny brought himself off. He dropped to the floor, and his phone clattered to the linoleum beside him. He drew out his hand, and looked at it, then at the state of his pants.

"That's unhygienic," he said, glad that he hadn't succeeded in opening them. Though now he'd have to steal a pair of Phil's, since this was his only pair. He'd probably have to start keeping some extra clothes at this place, if he was going to be sticking around.

When he finally had the energy, he got up, washed his hands thoroughly, and went and changed. After washing his hands yet again, he got on with the mixture while the oven reheated itself, and put his phone aside. He was wary of it now, which was stupid, not to mention inconvenient.

The batch seemed to turn out okay. He was placing them on the cooling rack when another text came through. Still unsure, he opened the message, and couldn't help chuckling.

And I did it all without using text speak. Let that be a lesson.

Touché. J.

This is really to make up for 'One Chapter Closes'. I'm almost sad that that series is over, but I couldn't have gone on with it indefinitely. All good things must come to an end, and it isn't vanity to say that I believe 'The Agent and the Human Torch' to be one of the best stories I've ever written. Just my opinion. And hey, I have next to no self-esteem, so it's pretty impressive to admit that anything I've written might be good.

Also inspired by a conversation with one of my readers, in which I suggested this as a possible story idea. After posting 'One Chapter Closes', I've been fretting; so I got on and wrote this. Just so you know, I have no experience in sexting. At all. So I went with the blatant approach, partly because Phil is sassy like that, and Johnny had it coming. In a manner of speaking.

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