Work Text:
Fitz thinks he had a little too much beer.
He feels lightheaded. The world is swaying. It's like he's sitting in a boat thrown around by gentle ocean waves. He’s struggling to keep his balance and leans back against the wall with a sigh.
The air is electric, the music loud. There’s sweat glistening on his skin, but it’s not all his own. People, blurry figures without real contours, are bumping against him from time to time, are pushing past him, their eyes unfocused and hazy. Everyone’s drinking and laughing. Everyone’s partying.
Fitz frowns. What are they celebrating again?
Oh, yeah. End of exam time. Right.
Fitz takes another sip of his half-empty bottle of beer, mostly because he has nothing else to do right now. He barely knows anyone here. Not close. And he’s definitely not dancing. Christ no.
He feels a little out of place.
It’s actually the first time he attends a party, since he applied to the Academy. He’s never been really social and has never seen a reason to show up at parties.
Today, he’s only here because of Jemma.
He still remembers her making Bambi eyes at him, as they were sitting on the bed in his room in the late evening, still studying. “Come on, Fitz. Everyone will be there!”
“And that’s the reason I have to be there too?” He asked, raising a brow, still staring at his notes. The letters started to blur in front of his eyes. Always a sure sign it’s been enough studying for the day.
“It won’t be the same if you aren’t there, Fitz. And …” Jemma grimaced, exhaling an exaggerated sigh. “Okay. I’m telling you the truth. Please don't be mad. I … I might have made a mistake.” She started to fumble with her hands nervously.
Fitz looked up from his papers alarmed. “Jemma. What did you do?”
She bit her lip. “I … Milton asked me to go there with him. And I panicked. You know how that last date ended! I told him, I’m already going with you. He … He asked if I’m dating you now. Rather aggressive. And … And … Well, I …”
Fitz’s throat felt dry. “You said yes.”
Jemma nodded, her lips twitching. “I’m sorry.”
Fitz didn’t know how to feel about this. “But … But we are best friends!”
Jemma shrugged. “Well. People break up all the time, right? We go to the party and a few days later we find a good break up story because we are two geniuses and that’s it! We’re back at being best friends.” She smiled encouragingly. “Now … Will you go to the party with me? Please?”
Fitz sighed. How could he say no, now? “Alright …” At least, he thought, he would get to enjoy Milton’s annoyed and angry glances.
Jemma beamed at him. "Excellent. Don't worry. Just act natural!"
Natural. Right. Okay.
Fitz prepared himself mentally a lot, but still jumped in surprise, when Jemma took his hand as soon as they left for the party.
He had to admit it felt nice.
Something inside him felt strangely good about playing Jemma’s date.
Something inside him felt even better, when Milton grabbed his glass so tightly when he saw them, his knuckles turned white. How’s that, hey-I’m-Milton-Let-Me-Show-You-My-Muscles-arsehole?
Fitz really is trying to do his best.
He held Jemma’s hand and kissed her cheek and let her eat from his nachos. Just like a date would do it. Of course, it’s all totally platonic. They both know it.
Shame, something inside Fitz whispers, but he’s too dizzy to listen. He’s staring at Jemma.
Jemma.
God. He really can’t break his gaze away from her.
She’s opposite the room at the bar, talking to another girl, while they’re waiting for their cocktails to arrive.
She is so beautiful. She’s wearing a purple dress that leaves her back almost free and her hair falls over her shoulders smoothly. It’s gleaming. He still remembers how she had shown him four dresses, asking him which one looks the best. All of them, he’d said and Jemma had slapped him with a pillow, laughing.
In the dim room filled with artificial fog and flashing lights in blue and red, she's shining the brightest. The focal point.
His best friend. He’s so glad to know her. With Jemma, everything feels natural and easy. It has never been like that before, with no one. Sometimes, it feels like they are soulmates. Like they are two sides of a coin, like …
Jemma turns her head and looks over to him, a smile spreading on her face. She waves.
Oh crap.
Has she noticed him staring at her?
Fitz quickly averts his gaze, looking down at his feet instead. That seems to be a mistake, because the world starts to sway again. He swallow the nausea down and squints at his beer warily. Maybe he should get a water instead …
When he looks up again, he flinches, because Jemma’s now right in front of him.
She says something, but he doesn’t understand and frowns.
Jemma shakes her head and comes closer. So close that he can feel her breath on his heated skin. “Do you want to go outside?” She screams into his ear.
Fitz nods dizzily.
She laughs and takes his hand, pulling him towards the door, while taking a sip of her cocktail she’s holding in her free hand.
When the fresh crisp winter air hits Fitz’s skin, it’s like a little shock. Jemma leads him towards a meadow. She locks arms with him and God, she’s radiating heat. A smile lingers in the corners of her mouth and her cheeks are flushed.
“Look at all these stars,” she says in awe, pointing to the horizon. Fitz looks up, squinting as the sky seems to turn upside down.
“So beautiful,” Jemma breathes.
Fitz wants to agree, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a noise that vaguely sound like "Huhu".
“Are you drunk?” Jemma asks, sounding amused.
“Nah,” Fitz shakes his head, but stumbles over his own foot and Jemma’s grip around his arm tightens. "Uh, maybe a bit?"
“Oh Fitz. How many beers did you have? Let’s get you to your room.”
Later Fitz doesn’t remember how they even get there.
He flops on the bed with a relieved sigh and buries his face in a pillow to make the world stop turning.
Jemma sits on the edge of the mattress and strokes his back.
He turns his head to the side, carefully, and asks, “How did I do?”
Jemma smiles. The smile reaches her eyes, making them sparkle even in the dim light. God. He could stare at them forever. He could drown in these hazel-mixed-with-golden-honey eyes. “You’ve been great. The best fake boyfriend one could hope for.”
I’m sure I could be a good real boyfriend too, the voice inside his head says, sounding slightly pained. Fitz smiles up at Jemma crookedly. “You make it easy. You’re perfect. Pretty too.” Oh. Fitz feels his ears start to burn. His tongue is really loose right now. That’s the alcohol?
But Jemma looks flattered. “Thank you, Fitz. You’re attractive too.”
“More than Milton?” He asks hopeful.
Jemma laughs and nods. “Yes. Milton can’t hold a candle to you.” She sounds serious.
“Hmmm. Good. I … I am tired,” Fitz murmurs, his eyes slipping shut without his will.
“Me too,” Jemma sighs. “This has been fun, but exhausting.” She strokes his back some more, until she suddenly lays down too. The bed is small, so she ends up with her face pressed into the crook of his neck, one of her legs thrown over his.
Oh. That feels nice, Fitz thinks absently. Warm. Smells good. Like Jemma. Of course, like Jemma. She’s right beside him. And she is so very close …
“I think I’m too tired to go to my room,” she murmurs into his skin, tickling him with her voice.
“Oh. Uh. Stay. If you want.” Please do.
Jemma makes a little noise in the back of her throat. “Thank you Fitz.”
She stays. And falls asleep first. She starts to snore very softly. Fitz thinks it’s adorable. He tries to stay awake, just to be able to listen, and to look at her peaceful face through heavy-lidded eyes. When he focuses on her, the world isn’t swaying as much as it did before. She’s like an anchor.
Being Jemma’s pretend boyfriend has been a remarkably pleasant experience, Fitz thinks. He could get used to it, could do this more often. Maybe she will agree to do this more than one time. It would keep Milton away from her.
They could have some more fake dates. Like, in the cinema. Or in a café. They could eat ice cream, walking through the park and holding hands. Or they could visit the fun fair, riding the big wheel like on of these giggling couples who kiss when they’re on the highest point. Oh. He really likes the images that emerge in front of his eyes. It’s like a very pleasant movie.
He feels warm and comfortable and thinks distantly that he wouldn't complain if things just stayed like this.
Fitz falls asleep, not even noticing he took Jemma’s hand.