Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Three years, six months, four weeks, and two days.

That’s how long May’s parents had been bugging her about getting married. After graduation, there’d been no congrats, no ‘Are you excited to start at SHIELD Academy?’ or anything. Her mother, who’d previously banned all romantic relationships, started demanding a son-in-law and a grandchild. Her father, who didn’t particularly care, arranged her blind dates with family friends’ sons.

May was sick of it.

She was especially sick of it when her mother brought it up during their monthly call, which originally started with how May was doing in school, and somehow ended with her dying peacefully from old age a few decades from now, next to a man who was preferably a doctor or a lawyer of some sort.

“I’ll see what I can do, Mama,” May muttered. She forced cheer into her sentence lest her mother start chiding her about it. “Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and slammed the receiver down, flopping onto her bed. She fought the urge to scream into a pillow.

“So, how was it?” Phil’s amused voice asked from across the room. “How’s your mom?”

May rolled over to look at him flatly. “The same,” she said. “Told me I was too fat, told me to eat more, told me to find a husband and give her a grandchild before she dies. Same old.” May sighed. “Whatever.”

Phil tilted his head towards her as he continued reading over their textbook. “Are you going to do it this time?” he asked.

May made a face at him. “We’re twenty-one, Phil. I’m nowhere near the age of settling down with a husband— or to have kids.” Her heart warmed at the thought though, of having mini versions of her running around. “Being an agent is all I want to think about right now.”

“You could probably do it if you tried,” Phil pointed out blandly. “Hearing from the guys here, they’d kill to say they’ve dated you. The guys who have tell the most outrageous stories about first dates and stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” May challenged. “What’d they say?”

Phil chuckled. “Well, it’s not fair, since I helped with some of those ideas, but, um…” he hummed in thought. “I’d say the first date to the cafe was the funniest. The both of you looked so uncomfortable and weird. You were wearing a sundress, for God’s sake.”

May rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to remember that.”

“That’s exactly what you said to me as soon as he left, and we went to the bar next door.” Phil closed the textbook with a soft thump. “Then you made out with me in a closet and cried.”

She winced. “I remember that,” May said, covering her face.

“Then the drinks must’ve stopped working on you.” Phil pulled out the next textbook he was going to read. “It was actually a bit upsetting.” He raised his eyebrows at her look. “What? A pretty girl, not to mention, my best friend, pulls me into a closet, starts kissing me, then you start crying. You’ve never kissed me before that or cried in front of me, so while I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough, I was hella confused.”

May shrugged. “Don’t be. I get drunk and kiss guys in closets all the time.”

Phil stayed skeptical, which was alright because that meant his lie-detection skills were getting better.

To be honest, May had only ever gotten drunk and kissed a guy in a closet once, and it was her best friend. He was a great kisser. Phenomenal. He was also very good at comforting people, which was a skill he demonstrated immediately after she started crying. And she felt bad for doing that to him. He wasn’t some doll she could use to make herself feel better.

A second later, May’s landline rang again, and she picked it up with a sigh. “May here,” she answered.

Phil’s mother’s voice came through. “Hello, Melinda,” Julie said warmly. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m great,” May replied, waving at Phil to make him come over. “School’s been good. Phil’s just here. I’m passing the phone to him.”

“Thank you, dear,” Julie said.

May tossed the receiver over to Phil and flopped back onto her bed, reading over his notes from today. She pretended not to notice when he sat on the edge of her mattress, only an inch away.

She let out a quiet breath as he and his mother chatted. Their conversations were always lighter than those with her parents.

May rubbed her eyes as a sudden wave of exhaustion rolled through her body. She wanted to go to sleep. She wanted to pretend the day was over and skip to the next. Maybe straight to graduation if she could manage it.

The next thing she knew, the room was dim, illuminated only by the sunset glowing around her blinds.

May looked around to see a blanket covering her, her jacket draped carefully over her desk chair, and Phil, reading on the armchair with his penlight.

He looked up at the sound of her movement, a soft smile on his face. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Phil teased.

May wrinkled her nose and threw a pillow at him. “What time is it?” she yawned, shrugging her jacket on. “Did I miss dinner?”

Phil rested his textbook on the pillow like it was a desk as he turned on a lamp. “Yep.” He nodded over to her desk. “I got you something. We can also run down to the commons if you want it microwaved.”

“Nah.” May picked up a roll and bit into it. “This is fine.” She dropped into her desk chair. “What did you and your mom talk about?”

Phil shrugged. “My lack of a love life.” He motioned for May to toss him a roll and tore into it. “My grades. Her lack of a grandchild. School. My hypothetically future wife.”

“Your mom must’ve been talking to my mom,” May mused. “They’re all talking about the same thing right now. Babies. Husbands. Or in your case, wives.”

Phil hummed. “Wives indeed.”

May considered him carefully as he decided to continue reading. If he agreed to the agreement in her mind, it may benefit them both. It would get their mothers off of their backs for as long as they kept it up, and they could use it to their advantage later on.

It would just be up to Phil. And May, of course, would need to muster up the courage to ask.

Do it, something within her said. Do it before you think too much.

“What if we dated?” May blurted out. She winced at the tiny crack in her voice.

Phil hummed again, apparently unperturbed. “We’d make a cute couple,” he said, not looking up. “Why, are you asking me out?”

May opened and closed her mouth. She cleared her throat. “Purely just to keep our parents off our backs about love lives,” she said. “You know. Like… how to phrase it…” May made a small, strangled noise as she tried to find the words. “Fake dating?”

That got his attention. “You want to…” A smile tugged the corners of Phil’s mouth up. “Fake date me?”

May frowned. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” Phil said, stifling a grin. He sat straighter. “I promise.”

“Stop.” She swatted away his reaching hands. “Forget I ever said anything.”

“No, no, no.” Phil beamed at her. “Say it again.”

May rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

“Say it again.”

“No.” She threw another pillow at him. “Shut up, Coulson.”

Phil dodged it and stepped closer. “I’ll fake date you,” he said, the biggest grin on his face. “It’ll be funny. And it’ll be good practice for the real thing. I’m a little rusty in the dating area.”

May swallowed nervously. This was really happening? “So… you’ll do it?” she asked.

Phil put his hands on her shoulder. “Of course,” he said. He seemed earnest.

“You’ll be my fake boyfriend?” May continued, still a little skeptical.

“As long as you’re my fake girlfriend.” His bright smile seemed to warm the entire room. “Deal?”

May shook his hand. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

“So, how should we do this?”

May stared at the notebook they’d started to use to plan their ‘relationship’. “I don’t know,” she replied. “But we’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Yeah, I know,” Phil said dryly. “Do you actually want to go out, or just say we are? We are eventually going to need some proof that we went out.”

May hummed as she chewed on her pen cap. “Yeah. My mom being a CIA agent doesn’t help,” she surmised. “Okay. Actually going out it is.”

Her heart fluttered at the thought, though she banished it quickly. It was all fake, May reminded herself. It wasn’t real.

May glanced at Phil, who was sitting on her bed next to her. “What do people do when they date?”

He chuckled. “You’re asking me?” Phil snatched the notebook from her. “You’re the one who’s been dating around for the past three years.”

“Ugh.” May handed him the pen and he wiped the cap with the hem of his shirt. “None of them went well. The after-dates with you were usually better than the actual event.”

“That’s cause we’re friends.” Phil sighed as she flopped back onto the mattress. “We could just say ‘dates’ are us hanging out in your room or around campus. We do that enough already.”

May say back up. “Alright. That’s plausible. Now our ‘getting together’ story.” She tapped her finger on her cheek. “How about one day, you face your fears, buy me flowers, and ask me out?”

Phil shook his head. “I’m too much of a coward to do that,” he said earnestly. “We want this to be realistic. And realistically, this would probably happen after you get drunk and tell me you’re in love with me while I’m taking you home.”

He was right.

May rolled her eyes. “Write it down, then,” she said, letting out a breath. “You’re buying me flowers the day after, though.”

“Do you just want to receive flowers from someone who isn’t a creep, Em?” Phil asked amusedly.

“Yep.” She motioned for him to write. “We can do this tonight. I’ll bring a friend so they can stand witness to us leaving together. Clint or Laura, maybe?”

“Clint, so he can run home and blab about it to Laura,” Phil said smartly as he scribbled the plan in. “He tells her everything.”

“True.” May cracked her knuckles absent-mindedly. “And Laura can confirm with me tomorrow during sparring. I feel like she’s going to ask if we’d go on a double date with her.”

Phil made a small noise in the back of his throat. “Tomorrow’s a Sunday,” he said. “You two don’t spar on Sundays. She’ll confirm on Monday, so that gives us tomorrow to pretend we did stuff so you have more to tell her about.”

“We’re not very gossipy,” May told him. “Lena brings out our chatty side, but that’s about it. And I don’t think Nat and Clint are so keen about bringing their baby sister to campus anymore after that last time.”

“Yeah,“ Phil said. “Back to the point. Clint and Laura know I have a tendency to stay over sometimes to study or to keep you in check after you get drunk, so staying over tonight would probably be what happens. In the morning, we’ll talk about our feelings, decide the best course of action is to try our hand at a romantic relationship, and spend the rest of the day trying to get used to the idea.”

May nodded. “Reasonable.” She sighed, tugging at her hair. “You know what’d be romantic, though?”

Phil’s eyes sparkled in amusement as he watched her braid her hair messily. “What?”

“If there was rain.” May ran her fingers through the uneven braid and started over. “You know when it’s pouring out, and something big just happened and the guy shows up on her doorstep soaking wet, telling her he’s in love with her, and that he thinks he always had.” She let out another breath and finally noticed Phil’s wide grin. She frowned at him. “What?”

“You should pitch it to Hollywood,” he replied, earning a shove from her. “Hey, watch it. Future fake boyfriend here.”

May reached over to his hands. “Okay, then, future fake boyfriend. Do my hair.”

Shaking his head as he laughed, Phil motioned for her to turn around. He brushed her hair out and deftly twisted it into a single, long braid that trailed down her back.

“You want me to pin it into a bun?” he asked.

“What’s on the agenda today?” May countered, inspecting her hands. “We don’t have class or anything.”

“We’re going to the bar in a few hours, but otherwise, our day’s empty.”

May shrugged and turned back around. “I’ll leave it down then. No use making it practical.”

Phil hummed softly. “We can go down to the sparring rooms and go a few rounds. God knows I need it.” He gestured to her braid. “I can pin it up for you.”

“If we’re using today to catch up on stuff we need to do, we have more pressing issues than sparring,” May noted. “Like our criminal psych essay.”

His eyes widened. “Oh my god. The essay.” Phil twisted around to grab his notebook from the armchair. “How many words was it?”

“Two thousand.” May motioned for him to give her hers, which was lying on her desk. “I’ll give us four hours to do this. Do we need a trip to the library?”

Phil groaned, letting out a long sigh. “Nah. If I don’t pass, I don’t pass. It’s fine.” He started scribbling. “Time to use my powers of pretending to know stuff.”

May rolled her eyes and got to work on her own essay. She was already done half of it, so it was smooth sailing from there. She listened to Phil mutter to himself about it, furiously scribbling about how childhood traumas relate to adult arsonists or something. It was amusing, to say the least.

In her head, she mused about her impending fake relationship with Phil.

On one hand, there was her on-and-off crush on him, which she usually handled by thinking about how it might ruin their friendship. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him just as a friend; it was that she liked him too much as a friend, and May knew that if she lost him, she wouldn’t be in a very good place. She already lost enough friends when she was younger, and she wasn’t about to lose the best one she’s had in her whole life. And she was content to just be his friend as long as their lives would allow it. She really was. But…

Sometimes, she’d let herself dream.

The thing about Phil was that he made her happy. His mind. His voice. The way his eyes sparkled whenever he looked at her. The way he made her feel like she could fly or cheat death as easily as she could fight. The way how, if she wasn’t careful, he could make her lose her breath by just smiling at her.

And if she was thinking further down the road, he would make a good husband, theoretically. He’d be a very good father. He was basically the dad of the group anyway, what with his stupid responsible drinking and secret midnight ice cream escapades.

And there was also the fact that he was a phenomenal kisser. Had she mentioned that he was a phenomenal kisser? May didn’t remember, but that was always a good point to put on the pro’s list.

Also, today, Phil smelled nice. Like some sort of strawberry-scented soap, or something.

Oh god.

She needed to get away from this man before she started to think about anything else. May couldn’t afford to actually develop actual feelings for him other than her very platonic, not at all romantic love for him. As a friend. A best friend, who she didn’t want to lose.

And her teensy tiny, not at all distracting, non-debilitating crush on him, of course.

Chapter Text

“I’m gonna head to the bar first and get a couple shots in me before you get there and get me more drunk,” May called as she tugged on her pair of Mary Janes. “I’m picking up Clint. I’ll see you there. Wear something pretty, okay?”

“My pleasure,” Phil replied, his mind elsewhere as he continued to bullshit the essay. “See you.”

He listened to her door close and wondered if this was actually happening. He was going to pretend to date Melinda May. What in the actual hell was going on with his life? Did he die? Was he so good in his last life that he got reincarnated to be May’s fake boyfriend for a while?

May was his best friend for three years now, since they started at the Academy. When he first set eyes on her, he thought that she wasn’t someone to mess around with. Now he messed around with her all the time. And he loved that about them.

Something itched in the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something. What was it?

Wear something pretty, okay?

Phil heard May’s amused voice echo in his mind like it usually did. Wear something pretty? Alright. He’d show her pretty. He’d be beautiful tonight. He’d be stunning. Dazzling. He’d be the belle of the ball. Well, of the bar, at least.

He’d show her ‘pretty’.

He finished his essay and went into his own room next door, picking out his cornflower blue dress shirt. He knew May liked it. He wore his slacks and his favourite cufflinks and made sure his hair was nice and a little fluffy, so she could run her hands through it… Theoretically, of course. Hypothetically. She’d never do that in real life. As his fake girlfriend-to-be, maybe. But his best friend? She would never consider it for a second.

She wouldn’t. Would she?

Shaking his head, Phil banished the thought as he stepped outside his room. He checked his watch. 21:43. He’d given May enough of a head start by now, and it was already dark outside. He had a coat on, and he draped May’s warm leather jacket over his arm.

He couldn’t have her cold. She’d kill him if she had to take a few days off if she got sick. And Phil’d be stuck with writing her notes.

To be fair, he was already writing all of their notes anyway.

Phil ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep it neat as the wind buffeted it about. The late January night was cold, and he was glad he brought his jacket. It was snowing a little. He wondered what May already had to drink.

When he got there, the bar was already buzzing with intoxicated chatter and murmurs about upcoming tests and how cold it was outside. Phil found May and Clint in a booth as the younger man nursed a beer. May had her face buried in her arms on the table, a row of empty shot glasses in front of her.

He dropped into the seat next to her and rubbed a few circles on her back. “You tire yourself out already?” Phil asked sympathetically.

“No,” May mumbled. “Just… resting my eyes.”

“Well, while you’re, uh, ‘resting your eyes’, do you want anything else to drink?” He draped her jacket around her shoulders. “I’m going to get something.”

“Margarita, please,” she replied, her voice muffled by her arms. “Or anything strong. I don’t care. Let me get drunk, dammit.”

“You are drunk,” Phil teased. “I’ll be right back.”

He returned a few minutes later, his whiskey in one hand and May’s row of vodka shots in another. In truth, they were just water, so she wouldn’t wake up with too much of a headache tomorrow morning, but Phil figured that she wouldn’t be able to find a difference at the moment.

“Thank you, Phil,” May said. She was sitting straight now, though, after a few water shots, she began to lean on his shoulder. “What would I do without you, hmm?”

Was she… about to confess? In front of Clint?

May reached for Phil’s hands and let out a long breath. “You know, Phil, your hands are so pretty,” she drawled, tracing her fingertip over his veins. “So soft. They feel nice…” She moved them so they’d cradle her cheeks gently. “They’re nice on my face. Mmm.”

Clint shot Phil an alarmed look, but the older guy just gave him a ‘just go along with it’ and let May continue. It was all a part of the plan.

Right?

“Phil?”

He glanced down at his best friend, who was clinging to his arm like a lifeline. He smiled softly. “Yeah, Em?”

“I think…” May hiccuped. “I think your eyes are pretty. And your voice is so calming. I love it and maybe…” she hummed, leaning into his hands that she still had against her face. “I think, maybe, I may be lovin’ you you.” She frowned. “You? Too?”

Phil nodded slightly. “Yeah. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay, Em?” He got up and offered her a hand. “Let’s get you home.”

May pouted and let him help her get her jacket on before she stumbled out of the booth, barely able to walk.

“How much did you manage to drink before I got here?” Phil muttered as he moved her bangs off of her face. “Did you empty the storeroom?”

“Maybe.” May tripped over her own feet and Phil, letting out a sigh, swept her off her feet and carried her, bridal-style, back to their dorm building. Thankfully, it was only two blocks away.

“You smell nice,” she whispered, face buried in his jacket, turned away from the cold. “Like strawberries. And fresh laundry…” she yawned and nestled closer to his chest. “Mmm.”

Shaking his head a little, chuckling to himself, Phil walked them back to their building. May was certainly an amazing actress.

He gently deposited her onto her bed, nudging her a little to find out whether she was acting very drunk, or actually very drunk. She was the latter. Phil smiled to himself and took off her shoes for her, putting them by the door. He draped his coat over her curled-up form, tucking stray strands of her hair behind her ear with ginger fingers before settling into her armchair to sleep as well. Tomorrow, they had the day to themselves, so they could just shower then. Carrying May home took a lot of energy.

That night, Phil had a very curious dream.

He didn’t quite remember the beginning, but the middle part had him and May starring as the leads in what seemed to be a romcom. He was the best friend that the leading lady always ignored, and May was the girl finding a guy who didn’t deserve her.

It ended with Phil and May ending up together, and they’d gotten married in a chapel with a lot of light and stained glass and a giant SHIELD logo at the top of the building. They’d had a kid, a beautiful little girl and a tiny, bright little boy.

He couldn’t remember their names, but he loved them with all of his heart.

Phil had spent his life in his dream; he was old and grey by the time it ended. He had had a granddaughter by his son. May was always next to him. They were attached to the hip, apparently.

In the cold light of morning when Phil finally woke up, he watched the sleeping form of his best friend. That dream… it was probably brought on by the fact that, according to the notebook and the clock on her desk, they were officially dating. Nothing more.

He observed the rise and fall of May’s chest. She seemed like she was having a good dream, too. Good. She needed it.

In sleep, she looked so peaceful.

Phil smiled as May reached up and swiped at her nose. She was adorable, really. Beautiful, too, and certainly the strongest woman he knew. He admired her, in truth, for everything she could do and had done. May was smart, resourceful, talented… and she meant the world to him.

If only she knew.

He crept around her room so he could get her a glass of water for when she woke up. She’d probably need a painkiller, too. Phil wanted her to be comfortable, and he resigned himself to a day of just letting May sleep off her hangover.

Maybe he’d make her her favourite soup so she’d feel better. Or he could call his mom for the hangover cure recipe. May might hate him for it, though.

A small price to pay.

Phil closed the blinds quietly. He’ll let her sleep a little more. They had time. And she deserved some rest.

Chapter Text

May blinked blearily in her dark room. Was it still night outside? No, the curtains were just drawn. Why were they drawn?

“Morning, sunshine,” Phil said quietly next to her.

May turned to see him placing a tray of food on her beside table. She tilted her head at him in confusion.

“It’s just breakfast— I already had some, I promise.” He chuckled as he handed her her hairbrush as she motioned for it. “I’ve got more water over there. If you need it.”

May took a sip from her cup. “You know, being my fake boyfriend doesn’t equal to being my servant,” she noted amusedly.

“I know.” He sat cross-legged on her bed. “You didn’t even get to admire my outfit last night. I had to carry you home. The plan wasn’t to get drunk and confess, it was just to get fake drunk and leave very…”

“Suggestively?” May filled in with a grin. “I thought it’d make a little more gossip for Laure and the girls. No biggie.”

“Right.” Phil smiled. “No biggie.”

They sat in silence while May slowly had her hangover breakfast, Phil playing with the hair tie on his wrist. He kept it there specifically for her when she forgot hers. She’s had to use it quite often.

A beat.

“We should get our story straight—“

“Do you think we should practice kissing—“

Phil and May stared at each other.

She laughed awkwardly. “I mean, we don’t need to practice kissing. You’re fine at it.” May tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Forget I mentioned it. You said you wanted to get our story—!”

Phil had gently lifted her chin with his finger, effectively silencing her into squeaks.

What. The. Hell.

“No, you said you wanted to practice,” Phil said softly. “Let’s practice.” May could only nod before he closed in.

It’s not like she hadn’t kissed him before. She’d kissed a lot of people. But it was Phil— oh god , it was Phil, and he was so good and he smelled so nice and she felt so at home in his arms— it was Phil, and she didn’t like how much that she loved that it was him.

Her lips parted when he pulled away, mourning a loss for something that she’d only ever known twice.

May hummed softly. She kept her eyes closed. “Not bad for a communications kid,” she said wryly.

“Just ‘not bad’?” Phil repeated. He sounded determined. “I can do better than that, I think.”

May opened her eyes to see him inches away, him gazing at her with intent. He didn’t move until she whispered a tiny ‘go on, then’. And then he kissed her.

He wasn’t lying. He could do better. It was somehow so much better than the last kiss and simultaneously the same. Phil’s hand crept up to hold behind her head, a soft touch compared to her grip on the bedsheets.

She was… nervous.

May was breathless by the time he pulled away, and she kept her eyes shut as she felt him sit back down, now maybe a foot and a half away.

“Was that still just ‘not bad’?” Phil asked mischievously.

May looked at him. She couldn’t bear to look at him but she did. She loved him so much.

She loved him?

Oh.

Oh no.

She loved him.

May’s eyelids fluttered as she tried to snap herself out of it. “Yeah,” she managed. She offered a teasing smile. “Still just ‘not bad’.”

Phil pouted and took a bite out of her toast.

“Okay.” May cleared her throat. “Let’s get our story straight, shall we?”

They planned it out meticulously.

After Phil got May home, he’d have told her that he reciprocated his feelings. Then, he tucked her in for a good night’s sleep and repeated what he said in the morning. Then they’d had a good long talk about what they wanted and how they wanted to do this, and started a romantic relationship.

“I don’t know,” Phil mused. “It seems very methodical and cold.”

“That’s how it always looks on paper,” May assured him as she chewed on her pen cap. “It’s fine. And our dates are just hang outs wherever we want…” she scribbled onto their notebook. “There we go. A perfect fake relationship.”

Phil was lying flat on his back on her bed next to her. “How do we break the news to our parents?” he asked idly.

May shrugged. “I was just thinking of bringing it up the next time my mom calls me.” She glanced at him. “You’re gonna call Julie and tell her, aren’t you?”

“Yep. Hand me your phone, please.” Phil watched May dial his mother’s phone number and waited for her to pick up. “Mom!”

His mother chuckled. “Hi, dear,” Julie replied warmly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of my son calling me?”

“I have some news.” Phil scratched the back of his neck. “I’m dating May.”

“Oh, Melinda?” Julie asked. “Haven’t you been dating the dear girl for years?”

Phil paused. He frowned. “I have?”

“Haven’t you?”

“Uhh…” he glanced at his best friend of three and a half years. “I don’t think so. I’m 99% sure this is a very recent development.”

“Alright then,” Julie said. “How recent?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Oh dear god.”

The next thing he knew, Phil was hearing the dial tone. His frown deepened.

May raised her brows in askance and he handed the receiver back.

“My mom just hung up on me,” Phil said numbly. “Like she was mad at me or something.”

May shrugged. “Hell if I know what’s going on there.”

The phone rang again a few minutes later, and she picked it up with a grin. That faded a second later.

“Ma?” May’s brows furrowed. A frown. “You what? From where?” A long pause. “Well, I was gonna tell you when you called me, but you kinda did it first.” She sighed. “Mom, I promise I was gonna tell you— Mom! I’ve been dating him for ten minutes! Give me a break!”

She slammed the receiver down and let out a breath. She smiled at Phil.

“Well, the cat’s out of the bag,” May said brightly. “Your mom called my mom. I don’t wanna go out now.” She crawled under her blanket and pulled it over her head. “Nobody bother me!”