Chapter Text
The music thrummed through every wall in the house, vibrating in the bones of the groups of teenagers scattered about, lounging on chairs, collapsed on the staircase, and tucked away in every corner. Jemma Simmons watched lazily as her classmates danced before her, the music thudding in her ears, the figures before her becoming blurs in front of her not so sober eyes. She suddenly remembered the warmth behind her, and looked up to see her best friend Fitz, gazing down at her.
“DO YOU WANNA GO?” He yelled to her over the deafening thud of the music.
Jemma nodded and yanked them both up from the cushy couch they had found themselves on. It wasn’t a long walk home, five minutes at most. That was one of the perks of living in a small town, they had free reign of the place. Jemma kicked her heels off and they walked hand in hand, mostly to keep each other upright, down the middle of the abandoned road, Jemma wincing every now and again as they hit a particularly rough piece of tarmac. They giggled as they zigzag-ed their way up the road to Jemma’s house, stumbling drunkenly, illuminated only by the yellow glow of the streetlamps. Fitz pulled them to a stop when they reached Jemma’s driveway, catching her as she fell forward into his arms, her shoes still dangling from her hand.
“Do you want to stay? My parents went away for the weekend and I know your house is only the next street, but I don’t trust you to get there safely in this state.” Jemma mumbled into his shoulder.
Fitz considered her proposition for a moment. He’d stayed over before, a lot more recently, staying up late and studying for exams together until they both fell asleep on Jemma’s bedroom floor. But he’d never stayed whilst they were both this drunk. He cocked his head slightly, testing his sobriety, and felt his entire head swimming. Jemma was probably right, he could barely walk in a straight line, never mind make it back down this hill and into the house without waking his mum. He nodded, his head feeling like it was floating away from his shoulders as he did so, and Jemma grabbed his hand again, and began fumbling in her bag for her keys. The stairs were a challenge, both of them held tightly to the bannister as the world spun around them. Finally, they made it upstairs and into Jemma’s room and collapsed onto her bed.
“Can you believe it?” Jemma mumbled into her pillow, looking at Fitz who had slumped down next to her.
“Believe what?” He murmured, looking at her eyes, which he realised were now overwhelmingly close to his.
“That high school is over. We survived.” Jemma replied with a deeply dramatic sigh.
“What I cannot believe is that we got this drunk. Why did we let Milton, MILTON, talk us into multiple rounds of vodka shots?” Fitz groaned, feeling as though the bed was spinning beneath him.
“We were joining in. Having fun. Being actual teenagers instead of the exam obsessed automatons we’ve been for the last few months.” Jemma mumbled, struggling through her words, and flexing her hand, which felt as if it was separate from her body at this moment.
“Oh yeah.” Fitz replied, a tone of slight distaste in his voice.
He couldn’t understand how he’d never seen Jemma’s eyes like this before. They were brown, a beautiful brown, but not all brown, with little flecks of other colours like green in them.
“You have such nice eyes.” Fitz mused, hardly aware that he’d even decided to say that out loud.
“What?” Jemma said with a slight drunken giggle.
“Eyes, your eyes, you have nice, with the brown and the little greeny bits.” Fitz mused out-loud, bringing his hand up to graze the side of her face.
He barely registered Jemma’s eyes flitting from his own eyes to his lips, before he felt her own soft lips again his. For a second, he was surprised. He’d nursed a crush on her in the back of his head since they’d met on the first day of high school, but he never ever thought she’d felt the same way. By the time all of this had flown through his head, he realised he should probably begin kissing her back. He pressed his lips back against hers and sunk into a soft and happy feeling that had nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’d consumed that evening. They broke apart for air, and Fitz barely had time to take stock of what had just happened before Jemma’s lips were on his again, a lot more passionately this time, her hands wandering up and underneath his shirt, her tongue caressing his lip. It all felt like the most wonderful haze, and suddenly Fitz was aware that his hands were touching the bare skin beneath her dress, the soft skin of her thighs feeling like magic underneath his fingertips. Their bodies somehow ended up flush together, Jemma’s leg wrapped around his as she rained kisses down his throat. This was more intoxicating than the drink, Fitz thought as Jemma leaned back for a moment to pull her dress over her head. The last thing they both remembered was Fitz eagerly pulling Jemma back towards him, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss, as she began to unbutton his shirt.
The first thing Fitz was aware of the next morning was how warm he was. The second thing came as he began to open his eyes and it felt as if a marching band was making a procession through his head. The third thing he became aware of was the head on his shoulder and the hand on his naked waist. Jemma. It could only be Jemma, he thought as he breathed in the familiar flowery scent of her shampoo. Jemma shifted slightly in her sleep and that’s when Fitz became aware of the fourth and most important thing that morning. They were both naked. Suddenly flashes of the previous evening forced themselves into Fitz’s head. Milton singing some ridiculous drinking song at the top of his lungs whilst he and Jemma downed shots. Walking home, holding Jemma’s hand. Collapsing onto her bed and then there was something about her eyes. Then came the increasingly heated kisses and subsequent loss of clothing and then… And then. Fitz groaned. Of all the stupid things that he had done in his life, getting drunk on the last day of exams and sleeping with his best friend who he had had a crush on since the day they had met, truly took the crown for the stupidest and most idiotic thing he had ever done. He felt ashamed of himself, like he had taken Jemma for granted. Just as he was resolving to quietly get up, find his clothes and then run for the hills, never to reenter society again, Jemma began to stir. Her eyes opened and looked up at him and Fitz saw her go through the same set of realisations that had occurred to him ending with:
“Fitz, we’re naked!” She exclaimed, jumping suddenly back from him and pulling the duvet up to cover herself, her face bright red.
“Yes.” Fitz replied with a wince.
“Oh my god we…” Jemma trailed off.
“Yes.”
“And… I started it!” Jemma exclaimed.
“Ye- what?! No! At least I don’t think…” Fitz trailed off.
“Yes, I kissed you and then, things escalated. I think.” Jemma worried, still clutching the duvet to her chest.
They were both very quiet for a moment, staring down at the floral pattern of Jemma’s bedsheets.
“Do you regret it?” Fitz asked quietly, not looking up.
“I-I-I don’t know!” Jemma stammered.
Something wrenched in Fitz’s chest, and he flung the covers off of himself and got up.
“Fitz!” Jemma exclaimed squeezing her eyes tightly shut.
“It’s not like it’s nothing you’ve not seen before.” He muttered bitterly in reply as he tried to locate his underwear.
Finding his pants haphazardly flung on the back of Jemma’s desk chair, he pulled them on, and began to hunt for the rest of his clothing.
“Fitz, what are you doing?” Jemma asked, her eyes now open, following him about the room.
“Getting dressed, so I can go home and forget this all ever happened.” Fitz murmured as he pulled on his jeans.
“What?”
“This is the most embarrassing thing that I’ve ever done. I’d really just rather forget it.” Fitz reiterated.
“Fitz I -“Jemma started.
“We had sex Jemma! And you’re treating it like it was nothing!” Fitz exclaimed.
“No I’m not!” Jemma argued back.
“Then what was it? Because I know what it was to me.” Fitz said with a tone of resignation.
“I don’t know what it was Fitz! I’m so confused right now and my head hurts. All I know is that last night all I could think is how much I’m going to miss you.” Jemma explained.
“So it was pity?” Fitz asked, not keeping the hurt out of his voice.
“No! It wasn’t pity; I promise! You’re my best friend in the world and you’re joining the Navy! We’ve spent most of the last five years together and now I don’t know if I’ll get to see you twice a year!” Jemma exclaimed.
“And what about you?! Swanning off to Oxford?” Fitz grumbled back.
“You could have come with me! You turned them down! For what? To spend months at a time on some ship with 500 men who haven’t seen a shower in six months, to waste your talent when you could be doing so much more?” Jemma shouted.
“Yeah, think of how much I’d get done holed up in the back of a classroom! You know why I turned down Oxford, it’s not fair that you keep bringing it up!” Fitz shouted back.
“It’s not fair that you’re leaving me!” Jemma bellowed.
“IT’S NOT MY FAULT WE CAN’T AFFO- “Fitz faltered.
“You know what, screw this. I’m going home. I should never have stayed here last night. Enjoy Oxford.” Fitz spat as he finished doing up the buttons on his shirt.
“Yeah, last night was a mistake. Enjoy wasting your life in the Navy.” Jemma spat back, collapsing back onto her bed.
Fitz slammed the door on his way out and went home with a face like thunder. He ignored his mother’s questions of where he’d been and went straight to his room, collapsing on his bed, taking deep breaths. He’d had sex with Jemma. And they ruined it by getting into an enormous fight. If he was being honest with himself, it was a fight that had been coming since they day he’d turned down Oxford and announced he was joining the navy instead. He knew Jemma was hurt by his decision; they’d been planning for Oxford together for years. But it was just him and his mum, and no matter how much they saved, or how many scholarships he got, it just wasn’t possible for them. He knew Jemma thought he was wasting himself on the navy, but he’d actually started getting excited about it. He would get to travel the world and work with all of their ships and planes. It wasn’t fair of Jemma to use it against him, he though, huffing back against his pillows.
They didn’t speak for the rest of the summer. Jemma didn’t even come to say goodbye, the night before he left for training. Fitz wasn’t exactly happy with her either, but in the back of his mind he knew he was actually glad she hadn’t come because it would have hurt so much. When he came back on leave, Jemma was still away at Oxford, finishing her undergraduate degree in record time, his mum told him. Not that Fitz particularly wanted to see her anyway. He had not forgotten the hurtful words of their last meeting. Months passed, and then suddenly it had been years since the morning Fitz had woken up hungover and ashen faced in Jemma’s bedroom. He heard that she was working in America now. Good, as far away from him as possible.