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Chapter Text

There were several things Hunter was absolutely certain of. Most of them were irrelevant to his current situation. He just liked to remember that he was, in fact, certain of a variety of things. He was quite intelligent, really, if underestimated, probably due to his roguish good looks and devil may care attitude. 

He straightened out the collar of the ridiculous Rudolph-themed sweater his hot wife had trapped him into wearing by handing it to him while she wasn’t wearing a shirt.  Devil woman.

Anyway, Fitz and Simmons were in love, and he was bloody certain of it.

Daisy and Daniel’s annual first-weekend-in-December ugly sweater party might be in full swing, but Hunter’s best mate was in fool swing. Or something like that. He was workshopping it, it was fine. Fitz and Simmons were talking to Mack and Yo-yo and Fitz was downright gazing at Jemma with those big Scottish baby blues of his. She was cute, of course, Hunter wasn’t blind, but Fitz looked at her like he was on the verge of attempting poetry about her tits, or something. He could just dick the girl down, but that was none of Hunter’s business.

Except for how it was.

It was the third year in a row Fitzsimmons was showing up to every even vaguely holiday themed event as each others’ dates. Platonic dates, of course. 

It’s just easier, Fitz had said. Being single during the holidays is a bloody nightmare, if you’ll recall. If I’ve got Jemma with me I know we’ll have a great time and I don’t care if strangers think we’re together. Perfectly fine. 

And you’re not in love with her, right? Hunter had asked.

Fitz had flushed bright red in that adorable Scottish way of his and said Obviously not. It’s Jemma. 

Bloody idiot.

It was reaching a point. They all agreed it was reaching a point. That was how they had come to agree, via group chat, that the thing to do was plot against their dear friends and embarrass them into admitting they were in love. Were their quarry more emotionally intelligent people, Hunter would worry that the gambit would fail but dumb, horny brain happened to everyone. Scientific genius was irrelevant here. They wouldn’t catch on.

Hunter caught Phil’s eye from across the room. He nodded, and watched Phil catch Daisy’s eye, too. Daisy nodded and leaned over to whisper in Daniel’s ear. Daniel turned and walked into the kitchen.

Daisy sent Hunter an overexaggerated wink, then walked over to Fitz’s group. Hunter snickered as Bobbi sat down next to him.

“Is it happening?” she whispered.

She handed Hunter a generously poured glass of bourbon. Brilliant woman. 

“Thanks, love. It is.”

“Excellent.”

Daisy led Jemma into the kitchen just as Daniel exited it. He affixed a piece of mistletoe to the open archway between the kitchen and the living room. His grin was ridiculous. He didn’t make any sort of announcement, though, he just strolled back in and leisurely made his way over to Coulson and May.

“And now, we wait,” Hunter said.

He settled his arm behind Bobbi’s shoulders on the back of the couch and relaxed.

There was nothing like a good plan to get two oblivious nerds to realize they were in love.

-

It was a rather nice party.

Fitz liked a good, chill hangout. He’d long since grown out of doing too many shots and staying out all night, but being in Daisy and Daniel’s nicely decorated apartment with his favorite people? That was fun. He was on his third good beer, everyone was cheerful, and the night was still young. 

Also, they were all at least thirty, so the night being young meant he’d be back in his apartment by ten. Perfect.

The only thing that made him feel off was the knowledge that he was surrounded by couples. Not that he was alone- Simmons was, as always, his holiday date- but they were the only two single people in a room full of happily monogamous duos. 

Wait, were Phil and May monogamous? 

That was none of his business.

He smoothed a hand over the face of the embroidered Megatron on the front of his sweater. Megatron was wearing a Santa hat. Jemma had found it and presented it to him with absolute glee, because she was ridiculous and adorable. Wait, not adorable. He didn’t think Jemma was adorable. Simmons. Not Jemma.

He mentally sighed and took another swig of his beer. He was, in fact, too beer-ed up to lie to himself about how he felt about her. He’d gotten fairly good at hiding it- he had five years to practice, after all- but sometimes, especially during holiday parties when she put glitter on her cheeks and had too much gin, so her eyes were all bright and her smile was wide and she giggled, he couldn’t pretend he didn’t really like her even though she didn’t like him.

He was only half-listening to Elena at that point but it was okay. She was very calmly ranting about one of her charges pranking her co-teacher. It was terrifying to him and probably very hot to Mack, so they were good. He let himself focus on Jemma, who was standing just inside the kitchen with Daisy, doing that giggling he’d been thinking about. She was wearing this bright red sweater covered in truly terrible green, scratchy glitter puff ball things. 

She was the best.

As if she’d known he was thinking about her, she turned and waved him over.

“Fitz!” she called, and for some reason, that sent her and Daisy both into titters again.

He grinned. “Excuse me,” he said.

Mack said something, but Fitz didn’t catch it, which was fine, because Mack was chuckling and it was almost certainly at Fitz’s expense.

Jemma stepped forward, meeting Fitz under the arch.

“So,” she said, in her I’m so sneaky loud whisper, “it turns out Daniel is just deathly afraid of-”

“MISTLETOE!”

Fitz jumped and yelped right as Jemma did. Daisy had shouted at them from all of a few steps away.

“Are you having a stroke?” Fitz demanded.

“Nope. Look up!”

Fitz did.

And there, hanging over his head like the Sword of Damocles, was a tiny sprig of evil, poisonous mistletoe. He looked down to see Simmons looking up at it, too, with her lips parted in surprise and her cheeks flushed. His stomach flipped.

Kissing Jemma Simmons was obviously a very wrong bad disastrous idea. Clearly. But there was mistletoe hung above them and god, she was pretty, and he’d had several beers, and she was the best. And he adored her. And maybe, if he kissed her once, just once, under the mistletoe, she might change her mind?

Or they were about to ruin everything and he would be abandoned by his best friend because-

Jemma stepped closer, cupped his cheek, and pushed up on her toes to touch her lips gently to his.

The room went silent. He leaned in, just a little, pressing back, in case this was the only kiss he’d ever get with this girl. She smelled good, she always did, and her lips were so soft, and her hand was freezing against his cheek. His heart was pounding like mad.

Their lips parted, and he could have sworn he heard her let out this little sigh. He opened his eyes.

She had flushed further. She grinned at him.

The room was actually silent, he realized. It wasn’t his mind being dramatic. Their friends were definitely paying attention.

“Best Christmas gift you could get from me, yeah?” she said. And because it was Jemma, her words were spoken entirely too loudly and she whacked his shoulder with too much embarrassed enthusiasm.

He turned bright red, too, because, to be fair, he was also embarrassed. He was a pretty private person and that had been very public.

Once the very loud ambulance sirens in his head calmed down, he would deal with that.

“Uh, yup,” he said. “I’m just going to- I have to-”

“Oh, me too!”

Jemma turned heel and went back into the kitchen. Fitz turned on his own and strode out onto the balcony.

It was freezing. Why was he on the balcony?

Oh, right, because he’d just kissed Jemma bloody Simmons.

Inhale. Exhale.

He jumped when someone clapped him on the back.

“Nice job, mate,” Hunter said (because of course it was Hunter). “Looks like you both terrified each other.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Hunter snickered. He took a sip of his drink and leaned back against the balcony’s railing.

“I mean, Simmons has wanted to kiss you just as long as you’ve wanted to kiss her, and it happened, then you both turned red and scampered apart like nervous teenagers.”

“I’m not a nervous teenager.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Simmons doesn’t want me to kiss her.”

“She clearly does.”

Fitz shook his head hard. “Nothing makes sense.”

“You’re a bloody genius, figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out!”

Hunter dropped his chin to his chest, deeply inhaled, then re-lifted his head and locked eyes with Fitz.

“Jemma Simmons is your date to every Christmas party this month,” Hunter said. “I imagine there will be more opportunities like this. If you wanted to- and I know you do- you could take said opportunities to kiss her more and, perhaps, even let that lead to a conversation where you casually mention that you want to marry her, move to the suburbs, and pop out babies forever.”

“I don’t want to move to the suburbs.”

“I think you’re missing the point.”

Fitz shook himself. “You really think she…”

“Yes.”

“But she has never-”

“Neither have you.”

“But our friendship-”

“Is a rock solid foundation for a long-lasting marriage.”

Fitz shook himself again. “You’re full of it.”

“Tell yourself whatever you need to. Next Saturday it’s Mack and Elena’s turn, and it’s not ugly sweater time. I suggest you call Bobbi and wear whatever she tells you to.”

“I can dress myself. I’m a grown man.”

“I need you to let go of these bad ideas so you can move forward, Fitz.”

-

The work week had taken entirely too long. It was finally Friday, but Jemma was fairly certain it had taken ten years for her to get there.

Time had stopped working correctly since she’d kissed Fitz the Saturday before.

She had a lab to run, emails to check, and appointments to make, but she was too busy for any of that. Her mind was too busy, rather. Her hands moved and she certainly said words (she led meetings and ran many experiments) but she was mentally not there for essentially the whole week. 

Fitz was adorable. She adored him. She’d always thought he was cute and brilliant and handsome and an annoying grouch. Her friend’s boyfriend’s best friend, as she’d met him, when Bobbi had dragged her along to what Jemma had been certain was meant to be a set up, that had resulted in her and Fitz getting into an intense debate about the true level of randomness in number generators specifically created for discrete-event simulations. It was the kind of intellectual connection she’d dreamt of finding. She’d beamed the whole night and she’d sworn he was looking at her with very cute puppy dog eyes. 

Fitz hadn’t asked for her phone number, though, so she’d guessed it wasn’t there for him. But then he friended her on facebook (who still used facebook?) and the rest was best, platonic friend history.

But he was so cute and she’d finally kissed him. Her whole world had been turned upside down.

She was almost certain Daisy had somehow finangled her and Fitz under the mistletoe, but after that kiss there had been shots, and Daisy and Bobbi and her crying about how much they loved each other. Jemma had woken up in Daisy’s guest bed with both other women and a hangover.

An excellent party, but Fitz had definitely not taken part in the shots. Shame. 

Shame?

She was being ridiculous. It was just a mistletoe kiss. It didn’t mean that, finally, after all these years, she had proof that Fitz liked her, too (not that she liked him any longer). They were platonic. That was fine. That was great, even. They’d never break up and she’d never lose him. She was so normal about them kissing. It was fine.

She put her tweezers down and pulled her phone out.

Jemma: We on for Mack and Elena’s? 

Fitz must have been on his phone, because he was texting her back before she put hers back down.

 Fitz: Yup. Pick you up at 7?
Jemma: Please. I’ll pick up flowers for Elena, can you grab some wine?
Fitz: sure
Fitz: looking forward to it

…he was looking forward to it?

What the hell did that mean?

She put her phone down with a huff. 

He had seemed overwhelmed when she kissed him but he’d leaned in, too, had pressed back and sweetened the kiss, had lingered in it like she had. She’d heard him sigh when their lips parted.

He’d immediately run away but she had, too, so. Glass houses.

She picked her phone back up.

Jemma: Me too :) 

She stared at the emoji and mentally debated using it for a solid few seconds, then nodded and hit send. She put her phone down and picked her tweezers back up.

“Are you alright, Doctor Simmons?”

“I’m fine, Milton. Don’t hover.”

-

Jemma was halfway through very carefully curling her hair when her phone rang. When she saw it was Daisy, she answered by hitting the speaker.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m doing the thing you taught me.”

“Be more specific.”

Jemma pinned a curl into place, humming in satisfaction when it perfectly settled. “Heat curling my hair and setting the curls with pins.”

“Good job. What are you wearing?”  

Jemma looked down at the ratty t-shirt she had on, then at her phone. “Are you initiating phone sex?”

Daisy laughed. “No, hon. I’m asking about the party.”

“Oh! That makes more sense. I have some options, why?”

“Wear something with a lot of cleavage.”

“Are you sure this isn’t phone sex?”

“Yes. Fitz just likes your boobs.”

Jemma snorted. “Who doesn’t?” She paused. “Wait. What?”

“Fitz. Boobs.”

“What’s happening right now?”

“Well, you guys kissed. Knowing the two of you, you haven’t discussed it, but obviously, it’s going to happen again. I’m just encouraging things.”

Jemma put her curling iron down before she burned herself.

“You think he likes me back?”

“Oh my god. Simmons.”

“What?”

“Yes. Yes, Leopold Fitz adores every inch of you.”

Jemma groaned. “I hope so.”

“I know so. How was the kiss?”

Jemma smiled. “It was really nice.”

“Just nice?”

“Well, I was in shock, and in public, and scared he was going to run away screaming.”

“I was scared you were going to blow him in my kitchen.”

“Daisy!”

“Anyway. You’re seducing Fitz tonight.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

Jemma looked herself in the eye in the mirror. Her hair was half curled, she only had foundation on so her face lacked shadows and highlights, and her London Zoo shirt had a hole in the armpit.

She was almost ready.

“I am,” she said.

Daisy cheered.

-

Fitz: Hi.
Fitz: Did your husband tell you I might be texting?
Bobbi: lol
Bobbi: yes
Bobbi: I’m so proud
Fitz: Can we pretend this isn’t embarrassing 
Bobbi: no
Bobbi: what are you thinking about wearing?
Fitz: I don’t know yet? I still have an hour
Bobbi: oh my god
Bobbi: okay. first, dark sneakers. 
Bobbi: nice ones, I think. you have nice dark ones right
Fitz: Why would I wear trainers to a nice party?
Bobbi: because Jemma will likely be wearing her chucks
Fitz: I’m not sure how that makes sense but I will take your word for it
Bobbi: mirroring, Fitz.
Fitz: sure
Bobbi: anyway. wear one of your light blue button downs. if you want a sweater, do a navy one. if not, undo the top two buttons of the shirt and roll your sleeves up to your elbows
Bobbi: and wear the dark blue jeans Hunter thinks your ass looks good in
Fitz: what
Bobbi: you heard me
Fitz: I think we need some boundaries
Bobbi: no <3

-

Mack and Elena’s townhouse was so nice. Jemma wanted a townhouse this nice. She couldn't justify renting one for herself, though.

If she were splitting the rent, though? And they needed some extra bedrooms for, uhm. Guests?

She glanced at Fitz. He was laughing at something. She loved seeing him laugh.

They were squished together on one of the townhouse’s very comfy couches and he looked so, so good. She loved when he wore blue. He smelled good, too, all clean and fresh. When he’d picked her up for the party she had pretended, for just a second, the flowers she had gotten for Elena were actually ones he’d brought to her instead.

She glanced down and fought the urge to pull the neckline of her green velvet dress up. It was hardly scandalous, but she wasn’t normally one to have any sort of low cut top on at all, so it felt strange, especially with her hair and make-up done. 

Was she doing too much? Maybe she was doing too much. She should have at least worn her trainers. She realized Fitz was looking her over.

“Do I look weird?” she blurted out. 

He startled. “What? No. You look stunning.”

Stunning.

She smiled. He smiled back, all crooked and cute.

“Okay!” Elena called, interrupting the moment. She bounced to her feet. “Let’s go.”

Fitz nudged Jemma’s elbow with his own. “What did you bring?”

She nudged back. “Not telling. What did you bring?”

He grinned widely at her. “It’s a secret.”

She took a deep drink from her wine glass. She needed the fortification.

“I know you all know the rules of White Elephant, but I’m going to repeat them, out loud, so none of you can pretend you didn’t know something,” Elena said. “Hunter! Callate!” 

Jemma snickered into her wine as Hunter shut his mouth and straightened. 

“Thank you. Now. We all draw a number. Whoever is number one picks a random present from the pile, opens it, and shows it off. Then, number two goes. If they want, they can steal the first present, or they open a new one. Every person who goes can either steal a previously opened gift, or open a new one. If your gift is stolen after your turn, you get to steal one, too, and so on. Every gift can only be stolen three times.” She swung around and stared directly at Coulson. “Only three times, Phil.”

Coulson held up his hands. “I miscounted.”

“You wanted the whiskey.”

“Enough to miscount, yes.”

“Sure. Everyone ready?”

Jemma cheered along with the group, and accepted her number. Eight. She frowned in thought. Eight out of ten? Interesting. A good placement, probably.

If she ended up with another sad, weakly-scented candle, she’d be furious.

She spotted Piper and her wife snickering to each other. That was alarming.

“I’m first!” Fitz crowed.

Jemma groaned. He was going to get the best one, she just knew it.

“Go for it, Fitz,” Elena said. 

She sat down on Mack’s lap and winked at Jemma.

Fitz stood up and made a show of circling the small pile of presents. 

“Move it, Leo!” Hunter shouted.

Fitz grabbed a small, red package, and crashed back on the couch next to Jemma. She burst out laughing and let herself cuddle closer to him. 

He looked at her legs. He kept doing that. Tights were so great.

Fitz tore the wrapping, balled it up, and threw it at Hunter. Then, he opened the small box it had concealed. The look of pure confusion that appeared on his face was priceless.

Jemma tilted her head. Was that-
 
“What sort of pervert game is this?” he demanded.

He lifted what was, unmistakably, a pair of women’s knickers out of the box. The room exploded into laughter, Jemma right along with the rest of them.

Then, she realized the knickers were patterned with mistletoe.

“You’re all the worst,” Fitz said. “Who did this?”

"It's a secret, Fitz," May said. She was actually smiling.

And Jemma wondered.

“I’m second!” Daisy called.

The game went on. There was, as always, a mix of nonsense. Good scotch, sure, but also a cheap oil diffuser, a bag full of make-up samples, a gift certificate to a children’s theme park, and a cat bed. Jemma laughed through it. 

As the game moved along, Fitz leaned into Jemma.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured.

She tried not to shiver.

“Maybe I’ll steal the knickers,” Jemma whispered.

Fitz blinked heavily at her. “Uhm. Why?”

She gave him a private smile. She hoped she didn’t look nervous.

“Well, you never know. Could come in handy.”

He looked like he’d gotten hit by a truck. Her heart pounded hard.

-

Jemma stopped after her second glass of wine. She didn’t want to be drunk. She needed full, focused clarity to achieve her goal of shagging Leo Fitz before midnight. She had gotten the scotch, too, so she could get drunk later if she needed to.

She did wonder if he was on the same page, because he only had one beer and he kept glancing at her. Although he had driven and he was a responsible person, so. It could be that.

Though that wouldn’t account for how he kept checking her out. 

It really wasn’t that late when Fitz cleared his throat.

“Do you, uhm,” and he croaked a little, “want to head home, soon? I was thinking we could, uhm. Hang out some after this.”

Her heart thundered in her chest.

“Sure,” she said, and she definitely squeaked, “that would be fun.”

She led him towards the door that opened into the foyer. She didn’t think twice about it.

“We could. I don’t know. Watch a movie,” he said.

“That is something we could do, certainly.”

The hallway narrowed above them, but she still got closer to him than was strictly necessary.

“Hey, Fitzsimmons,” Jemma heard Bobbi call. “Look up.”

Jemma’s heart stuttered. She did. 

She would have sworn it wasn’t there a moment ago, but she saw, plain as day, a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

Then, Fitz was touching her face, and this time, he kissed her. 

All her nervousness melted away.

She lingered in the sweet touch of his lips against hers. She was stuck in place, her feet firmly planted as once again, Fitz’s kiss made the world spin and come to a stop all at the same time.

He softly ended it and god, the way he downright gazed at her. She just adored this man.

A wave of laughter interrupted the moment.

Fitz went bright red again. He glanced at the many people still gathered and winced. He did so hate an audience.

“I’ll bring the car around,” he blurted out.

And he darted out of the room, pulling the front door shut behind him.

Suddenly, Jemma’s fear was back.

Daisy pressed two things into her hand. Jemma looked down to see the mistletoe and- oh. 

“You can do this, Jemma,” Daisy said.

Jemma nodded.

-

“I’ll bring the car around,” Fitz heard himself say.

He ducked out into the foyer and started to pace.

He should just say something, right? There was clearly something between them. He wasn’t a cowardly man, he could do this. And it was Jemma, even if it wasn’t there for her she wouldn’t break their friendship off. 

He could do this.

The sound of footsteps echoing caught his attention. He turned just in time to see Jemma striding down the hallway with a determined look on her face. His stomach flipped.

“Simmons, I-”

She threw herself at him.

His back hit the wall as her chest banged into his and Jemma was kissing him, really kissing him, like she’d thought about it just as much as he had and wanted it just as badly. It took him less than a second to recover and he got his hands in her hair, using his gentle grip on her to tilt her face exactly how he wanted it. He felt her shiver and press herself harder against him and christ, he was kissing the daylights out of Jemma Simmons. He turned them, pinning her between him and the wall and she was so soft and she tasted so sweet and he was never, ever going to stop this, this was brilliant, what had he ever been afraid of, why hadn’t he-

She tore her lips away and gasped for air. He drank her in.

“I like you,” he blurted out.

“I like you, too!”

She yanked his mouth back down to hers. She let out this little noise and wiggled and really, this hallway was entirely too public for where he was hoping she wanted this to go. He kissed his way down her neck, relishing the salt from her sweat and how soft her skin was under his lips. She sank her fingers into his hair and made that little noise again and yeah, they needed to get a room, this wasn’t going to-

“I brought the mistletoe.”

His head popped up and he stared at her. “What?”

She beamed at him. “It’s in my pocket. I was going to do a whole thing where I took it out and made a speech, but then I saw you and I didn’t.”

It clicked. “Oh, that would have been cute.”

She tilted her head. “Should I do it now?”

He leaned in and kissed her nose. Her grin widened.

“We can tell people that’s what you did. Instead of, you know, how you tackled me.”

She was laughing. He loved that sound.

“When they ask how we finally got together, you mean?”

His grin widened, too. “Finally?”

She rolled her eyes but she was still beaming at him, so he didn’t take it seriously. “Yes. Finally.”

“I agree. And we can do whatever you want.”

“What I want is for you to come home with me.”

This giddy peal of laughter burst out of him. He kissed her again.

Chapter Text

They spilled into Jemma’s apartment, laughing and kissing and really, Jemma could melt from how happy she was. She took her coat off and shoved his off his shoulders.

“Sit down,” she said. “I have a surprise for you.”

He grinned at her as he hopped through taking his shoes off. “I thought I was the one giving you a gift, here.”

“Oh my god. Was that a line?”

“Maybe? My brain is not fully online.”

“Good. Sit.”

He jogged over to the couch, pulling more laughter out of her, and let himself fall dramatically back onto it.

“What’s next?”

“Stay there.”

She darted into her bathroom, still laughing, to change. 

The mistletoe knickers were actually a little small on her but she guessed Fitz would be fine with her arse cheeks falling out of the bottom. She tilted her head as she peered in the mirror. Good call on wearing the red bra, she thought. Christmas matching. She was a present.

She was going to sleep with Fitz. 

She shrieked in her head, then took a deep breath, adjusted her boobs in her bra so they were sitting up absurdly high, and exited the bathroom.

She felt a wave of dizzy nerves when he spotted her. His jaw dropped. She beamed at him. 

“Hi,” she said.

“I love you.”

Jemma’s jaw dropped back. 

Fitz’s eyes got huge and he sprang to his feet.

“I- shit- I do, but not in a pressure way- oh my god- you’re just so cute and sexy and adorable and look at you, what am I supposed to do, NOT say I love you? I said it again. Shit. Uhm.”

He clamped his lips shut. 

Jemma shook herself back to life. She walked to him, smiling at the nerves on his face and how he still kept glancing down below her neck.

“I love you too, you ridiculous man,” she said. 

Fitz slumped in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, thoroughly kissing her until she sighed against his mouth. He smiled.

“Do I get to kiss you under the mistletoe again?” he murmured.

He started kissing her neck. She plastered herself against him with a happy hum.

“As many times as you want,” she said.

He chuckled. “I’m not sure you’re catching my meaning.

Why was he still talking? “Hmm?”

He kissed her and she sank into it, loving the hungry sound he let out. She gasped when he cupped her bum. He was moving them and she trusted he knew where they were going. The backs of her calves hit her couch cushion and she sat down hard with a squeak.

He fell to his knees.

“I want to kiss you under the mistletoe you have, Simmons.”

She frowned. “You want me to go get the sprig? It’s in my coat, I think, but-”

“Jemma! Your knickers are mistletoe patterned.”

“Well yes- OH! Oh yes, do that, please. But shirt off first!”

She sat up and caught his laughter in another kiss, busying her hands with the buttons of his shirt. She fantasized about him in this button down. Many varieties of it, actually. He basically only wore this kind. She shoved it off his shoulders and ogled him in his white t-shirt.

“This is a good look for you,” she said. “More t-shirts.”

He tilted his head. “Wait, should I leave it on, then?”

“No! Nudity, please.”

He was laughing again and oh, that was lovely, how giggly they both were. She’d always known how much fun this would be with Fitz.

He tugged his t-shirt up and off and she sighed, utterly content. Shirtless Fitz, on his knees, with his curls mussed and pupils blown, beaming up at her with a tent in his jeans.

Best Christmas ever.

“Right,” he said. “Enough of me for now.”

She put on a pout. “I haven’t even begun to-”

She cut herself off with a squeak as he gripped her by her knees and yanked her hips to the edge of the couch’s cushion. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

“Okay?” he asked. 

His lips moved against her sensitive skin and she nearly squeaked again.

“Yes!”

He shot her a grin- Fitz, grinning at her from between her spread thighs- and moved to mouth against the gusset of the ridiculous mistletoe knickers. He licked her right through the damp cotton and she bucked her pelvis up with a whine.

She’d never been so bloody turned on in her life.

“Fitz,” she pleaded. 

“Mm-hmm.”

He traced the elastic edge of the knickers with a fingertip and hummed right against her until her hips bucked again.

“You’re a tease,” she managed.

He shrugged. “You should have guessed that.”

Well. Two could play at that game.

She squirmed and managed to sit up enough to reach the back of her bra. She watched his face slacken as she undid the hooks and freed herself of the thing, tossing it dramatically over his head. 

God, the way he looked at her. How long had she been waiting for this man? How foolish it had been of her to wait.

“Fitz,” she whispered. “Touch me?”

“Oh, bloody hell,” he muttered.

He moved quickly then, seeming to be past the point of teasing as he yanked the knickers down with not a little amount of help from her. Then, her knees were over his shoulders and it was Fitz, laving his tongue through her folds while his hands framed her breasts, finally, and she couldn’t do anything but try to keep breathing.

“Oh, god, there!” she moaned.

This was going to happen embarrassingly fast. She was just so turned on, was so overwhelmed by Fitz’s tongue on her clit and his palms gently massaging her aching breasts as he moaned like he was halfway to getting off, too, just from getting his hands and mouth on her. She stared hungrily at his face as he moved, adoring the concentration she saw in his expression, the eagerness to get this right. Fitz always had to get everything right. She clutched at his curls and let herself just feel as the soft motions of his tongue took her higher and higher.

“Yes,” she moaned, “yes, yes-”

Fitz hummed against her and her back arched hard when he licked inside her, thumbing her clit as he fucked her with his tongue. She tipped over the edge with a full body shiver, bucking against his face as her pussy pulsed. 

She fell over inelegantly onto her back, sprawling out across the couch. She could have cared about how absurd the fall was, but she was busy recovering from getting the wind knocked out of her. She stared up at the ceiling and tried to catch her breath as Fitz rained kisses over her folds and inner thighs.

“Jemma,” he said hoarsely. “Bedroom.”

She shook her head no. “I can’t wait.”

Fitz let out this low growl and oh, she hadn’t known he was capable of sounds like that but she really, really liked that he was. He surged up to kiss her and she returned it gladly, opening his mouth with hers and tasting the mess she’d left all over him. She heard the telltale sounds of him undoing between belt and trousers and that was good, because she couldn’t move but he had to be naked immediately.

He settled on top of her, his bare skin pressing against hers. Her soft sigh turned into a gasp when she felt his cock pushing against her soaked folds.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped back. 

He rolled his hips, rubbing himself against her and she let out a little cry. 

“Tease,” she managed.

“You like it.”

But then he had a hand between them and it was Fitz, pushing inside her. She wasn’t normally one to get emotional about sex but she felt herself tearing up.

“Hey,” he said softly. He kissed her forehead. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “I’m happy,” she said. “I’m just so happy.”

He softly laughed. “Me, too.”

He caught her hands with his and laced their fingers together, pressing her hands into the cushion above her head. Her vision was overtaken by his face above hers, by his flushed cheeks and sweat tousled curls. His eyes were dark but bright, too, somehow, sparkling at her. 

“You feel unbelievable,” he said.

She locked her ankles behind his back, grinning through a gasp as a moan rattled through him. He’d sunk just that much deeper into her.

“Perfect,” she purred, beyond pleased with herself.

His knees shifted as he braced himself to move and she was sighing and clinging to his shoulders, loving the slow, steady pace he found. She didn’t need anything but them finally moving together. She arched her back, pushing her breasts against his chest and enjoying the sweaty slide of their skin together.

He kissed her sweetly through short, panting breaths. He was closer than she was, she thought, and she really liked that. She wiggled under him, trying to make him go cross eyed. A deep groan escaped him when she tightened herself around him just as he pushed inside her.

“Jemma,” he murmured.

He kissed his way across his cheek and mouthed at her pulse point. 

“I want my present,” she said. 

She nipped lightly at his earlobe.

“Working on it,” he muttered. 

A breathy giggle escaped her and she wiggled.

“You first,” she said.

He lifted his head up. “Nope. You.”

“Fitz,” she said, her voice throaty, “I want you to come.”

“I will.”

He pushed her hands down. She threw her head back as he moved into her harder, rubbing inside her perfectly.

“Oh, god!”

“That’s right,” he said. “You. Always you.”

“Fitz!”

She’d had a plan, but he’d found just the right way to break her down. She couldn’t believe how loud she was moaning, how desperate she suddenly felt as she stared into his determined eyes and got carried away.

“Want you,” she gasped.

“You have me,” he said. “I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

“Come with me!” she said. “Come in me, Fitz, I want you to, please, with me, with me-”

“Jemma!”

She felt the shudder roll through him and him falling took her over, too, and she was shouting as she felt him spill inside her over and over as he kept up the relentless movement of his hips. He dropped his face against her shoulder and she shivered all over, pressing sloppy kisses against his cheek and temple as they rode it together.

She let out an “oof!” as Fitz’s full weight collapsed onto her, but it wasn’t a complaint. Warm, sweaty, sated Fitz being her blanket was rather wonderful, really.

“Oh my god,” he croaked against her neck.

She giggled at the feeling. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder then rolled his head back just enough to beam down at her.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

“Have I ever told you how good you are at giving presents?

He burst out laughing.