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The thing is that, before this whole business started, Daisy never thought of Fitz as “sexy”.
Quirky, sure. Funny. Brilliant. Cute, maybe, in the way you find a puppy cute. But never sexy.
(It’s different with Simmons because Simmons also used to be the epitome of cuteness in Daisy’s book, but after the epic “nubile young prodigy” chat, things... changed. Daisy has eyes after all. And for all that Jemma is cute and small and adorable, she also has great lips and killing legs and glorious hair. And Daisy is not blind.)
This whole Fitz’s sexiness thing has been a long time coming, Daisy knows. But she felt it was wrong to like his scrub when he had it because he couldn’t shave properly. To like his new shirts when he was using them because they were more comfortable to go globetrotting looking for Simmons. She blocked all those feelings about him for so long that when she let herself feel them, they turned her into a horny fifteen-years-old.
Like now, that he is standing naked in the bathroom they share, all fair skin and toned back and regular arms, arms that were made for hugging and creating and dancing and maybe lifting Jemma up if he is feeling bold, arms that are incapable of killing a man just by themselves. And that is so okay. And all Daisy can do is gape at him.
“Daisy?” He is looking at her over his shoulder, blushing but not trying to cover himself, and Daisy feels warm all over. “What are you doing here?”
Admiring the view is on the tip of her tongue, but she can not even tease him while he looks at her like that.
“I was going to take a shower, I think?” Truth is, she can not really remember.
“Didn’t you realize that I was going to take a shower myself?”
He is marching towards her, all unashamed nudity, and her mouth feels suddenly dry. If someone had told her that Leopold Fitz was capable of this amount of inhibited sensuousness, she wouldn’t have believed it, and yet here they are.
“No?” Her voice is high and shaky, and when he gets to her and starts playing with the hem of her shirt, she lets out an involuntary squeak.
“Can I?” She is nodding even before he can finish asking the question. His eyes roam over her exposed skin, and it’s not cold, but Daisy feels chills all the same. The intensity of the gaze he uses on her is one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs in the world, she is pretty sure. Maybe she should make Simmons test it or something. “Maybe we can share?”
She knows him well enough to know that he is faking the boldness, that he probably is fighting against his instincts to cover himself, but she appreciates that too, that he wants to be open and sensual with her, even if it doesn’t come to him naturally.
(His obvious erection against her hip doesn’t hurt, either.)
She wants to answer, but no words come to her mouth, and instead, she kisses him, pure force and intensity, her hands going straight to grab his bum. He moans inside the kiss and tightens his embrace on her waist. They have done this before, of course, kissing with little clothes involved, but never while standing up, and it’s such a thrilling sensation, all his smooth skin within reach, the muscles behind his thighs, the scarce hair on his chest, his hipbones and his shoulders, and how could she not consider him sexy, even when he was still a little baby-faced and very much more innocent.
“Knock, knock.”
Daisy jumps at the sound of Jemma’s voice like a child caught with her hand inside the cookie jar. It’s not like Jemma doesn’t know, or like they are hiding- not when they are doing this in their shared bathroom, with the door unlocked and with all the lights on-, but she still feels a little obscene by having been caught so off guard.
“Come on in, Jemma. It’s not like you don’t know what is going on here when you sent poor, unaware Daisy here yourself.”
Daisy looks at him with large eyes, and she couldn’t remember earlier because, well, him, but that makes so much sense. Jemma’s head pop-outs from the side of the door, a mischievous grin on her face, and really, Daisy, you should have learned by now. Fitz doesn’t let go of her while he gestures for Simmons to come in, and she feels her hands burning on his skin.
“Why do you keep on doing this? Setting us up?”
Jemma shamelessly takes her blouse off before shrugging; the fluorescent light makes her skin glow like a milky way where her freckles are the stars, and it makes Daisy go a little cross-eyed. God, she is a mischievous mastermind, and Daisy wants to lick her all over.
“Because I love you? And yay, shared showers?” She makes a pause, and when Fitz only glares at her, and Daisy is still hiding her face on Fitz’s neck, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Let’s not put this on me, okay? You could very easily have turned around and nothing would have happened. But if you are not gonna waste any chance to have sex, I’m going to give you chances to have sex! Because I’m an awesome girlfriend!”
“You are a criminal mind, that’s what you are.”
Fitz is not really angry, Daisy knows. It’s not that he would never have an angry argument while naked, but definitely not while still holding her and while still sporting an impressive erection. He is just messing with Simmons and really, how could she not find him sexy before?
Simmons seems to be pondering the situation, still apart from them, and Daisy makes a gesture for her to come closer with the hand that is not, well, not grabbing Fitz’s bum.
“So, there are two ways this could go.” It‘s rare that Fitz gets to play bossy and hard-to-get, with how she and Jemma usually behave inside and outside the bedroom. It’s a little thrilling, especially with the way he is still holding her so tightly, and Daisy can see Jemma perking up with interest at his tone too. “You can either leave and think about what you have done and face the consequences later. Or.” He makes a pause, and Daisy runs her hands across his back, dying to get him to finish the idea. She can barely handle the anticipation, she can’t understand how Jemma can still be looking at him with a straight face. “Or you can stay and make it up to us now. Your choice.”
Jemma licks her lips very slowly but nods, eagerly, and Daisy shivers with anticipation.
“Good. Come here.” He lets go of one of her hips to take Jemma’s jaw, and Daisy tries not to whine. He kisses her very slowly but also with a carefully controlled amount of intensity, and Daisy is so close to both of them that she can feel the kiss happening through their bodies. “Now strip.” Jemma’s hand goes straight to her zipper, but Fitz stops it mid-movement. “Uh-uh. Not you. Daisy.”
He takes a step back to give them some space, and Daisy feels suddenly cold without his body warmth, but Jemma’s hands are soon on her skin, and she sighs, relieved. Jemma is functional but gentle and gets her undressed so fast that Daisy wouldn’t be able to tell how it happened. What a spy you are, Daisy Johnson.
Fitz turned around to get the water running like he doesn’t care about what’s going on within them, and that makes Daisy feel a little outraged and a little excited.
“You can return the favor if you want, Daisy.”
She also undresses Jemma quickly but takes the time to kiss the constellation of freckles that go from her collarbone to her breasts, because Fitz didn’t tell her not to. And also because he is not the boss of her. Though she would let him boss her around a little, just to humor him. And because it makes him look so goddamn sexy.
Jemma trembles under her ministrations, one hand holding Daisy’s head against her chest, and Daisy grabs the back of her tights with a little more force than necessary, wishing to leave marks there. Fitz is under the water spray already, and Daisy looks at him defiantly while she swirls her tongue around one of Jemma’s nipples to make her gasp. Fitz raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and Jemma counter-attacks by biting her shoulder.
“Are you ladies going to let all the warm water run out?”
“Are we going to let him behave like this?” Jemma murmurs in her ear, and Daisy shrugs.
“Why not? It’s not like he doesn’t know that he has us tied around his little finger.”