Work Text:
Jemma is so incredibly frustrated.
She’s in the lab, hunched over her desk and reading the same paragraph of Daisy’s blood results for the umpteenth time; but it could just be gibberish for all she can tell, because she can’t focus or comprehend the words.
So much for keeping it professional.
She sneaks another glance at Fitz, who seems to be totally fine working at his desk opposite from her, his face contorted into concentration as he works on modifying an ICER.
How can he do it? Be so close to her? Be able to restrain himself from just climbing over his desk and pressing his lips against hers and tearing off her clothes and-
She freezes as Fitz looks up and meets her gaze, flashing her a grin. She quickly ducks her head, pretending to read the documents: heart racing, face flushing, and trying to shake the images that flood her thoughts.
She stumbles through another paragraph as Fitz suddenly slides out of his seat and walks to the box of books they had requested for research. Forcing herself to keep her eyes on the page, she hears the rustling of pages as he combs through the container, and after a quiet grumble the crinkling of material as he bends down to further shift through the books.
Jemma loses her internal battle, and without an ounce of regret she abandons the results and and turns her head towards Fitz.
The view is stellar, and she admires his backside, hungrily drinking him in and barely keeping herself from launching out of her seat into him.
She’s both vindicated and completely horrified by her reflections- is she really thinking about shoving him against the wall right now?- but as he shifts and bends down even lower and Jemma has to stifle a groan.
Until she notices the material peeking out from under his pants.
She would know that crimson-colored embroidered lace anywhere: even on her boyfriend’s arse.
“Fitz?” She finally manages to croak out.
“Yeah?” It’s a causal response, his attention elsewhere but it’s as if he senses her suspicions because he leans even further and exposes more of the lace to her eyes.
“Are- Are you wearing my underwear?”
The second she speaks Fitz stills, his body rigid and his hands frozen elbow deep in the box. Jemma crosses her arms as Fitz slowly straightens his posture, and when he turns to face her she musters her greatest death stare.
(May’s been teaching her, and it’s harder than it looks)
His face seems to be completely drained of blood, eyes wide and he begins to fumble with his words.
“Jemma- I- it’s not what it looks like- I swear- um- what happened was,” he wrings his hands and rocks back and forth, “I was playing poker with Daisy and I lost and the deal was that I had to wear your underwear for a day and I’m pretty sure she cheated-”
“Fitz.”
“- because there’s no way she could’ve gotten a full house, not with the cards that were left in the deck but-”
“Fitz.”
“- I let it go because she could use some cheering up and-”
“FITZ!”
He finally stops, taking a deep, trembling breath and waits for her response.
Jemma struggles to maintain her features stoic as she leaves her stool and makes her way towards him.
She can’t look at him in the eyes yet, but she moves her fingers to pick up some imaginary lint off his right shoulder.
“It’s okay, Fitz.”
Jemma finally glances up at him, a coy smile dancing on her lips and she tilts her head to the side.
“I kinda like it.”
His face changes from embarrassment to flirtatious faster than her own heartbeat, raising his eyebrows and lifts his hand to grasp hers
“You do?”
“Oh, definitely,” Jemma remarks, weaving her fingers into his and gasping a little when his other hand snakes around her waist and pulls her closer. “In fact, I think our work in the lab is done for the day, don’t you think Dr. Fitz?”
“Couldn’t agree more, Dr. Simmons. Couldn’t agree more.”
***
Daisy just wants to take a quick nap in her bunk, walking briskly through the hall towards her bunk so she can for a moment forget about the looming dark cloud hovering above her head. She finally reaches her door and is trying to remember the code when suddenly-
“Hey Daisy!” Jemma’s voice loudly rings out and Daisy’s barely stifles a scream, clutching her chest and turning to find a couple of feet away Jemma’s head sticking out from behind her door.
“Jemma.” Daisy sighs, willing herself to calm down and berating herself for reacting in such a childish manner.
Jemma doesn’t seem to notice, and instead the grin already plastered on her face increases ten-fold, chuckling and raising a hand to cover her mouth.
Immediately Daisy’s suspicious, and she narrows her eyebrows and squints her eyes.
“Just- Just want to thank you,” Jemma uncovers her mouth and begins to say, giggling through her words, “Thank you so much for today. I really appreciate it.”
But what-
Oh.
Oh.
Today was… With Fitz… and Jemma’s underwear...
Daisy gasps, the gears turning in her head and Jemma bursts out into full laughter, slamming the door shut. Daisy can still hear Jemma’s laughter through the thin walls, and when it merges with a deeper, throatier laugh Daisy can barely breathe.
She places a hand against her door to steady herself as she whispers in disbelief and horror. “I’m going to throw up.”
Fitz and Jemma’s laughs grow louder at her words and she rushes towards their door and bangs on it repeatedly.
“LEOPOLD FITZ THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HUMILIATE YOU, NOT GET YOU LAID! EW! YOU GUYS ARE SUPER KINKY AREN’T YOU?? DON’T ANSWER THAT. PLEASE DON’T EVER ANSWER THAT EVER. OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE NASTY AND DISGUSTING AND I BETTER NOT HEAR ANYTHING GROSS FROM THAT ROOM EVER OKAY???”