Finding You

Him

This was originally a ficlet, and now could classify as a one shot, but it's more drabble-y

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Jemma bit her lip nervously, tapping away at the control pad in her hand whilst glancing out of the corner of her eye at Fitz. Her lab partner was stationed around ten feet away, tinkering with Sleepy the DWARF and a screwdriver.

It wasn't like any other day in SHIELD Academy's lab. Each were involved in their own separate bits of the same project, using their individual talents to make it come together as a whole. It was a magical process that usually excited the young biochemist to no end, but today something else had taken first priority in her driven mind.

It was him. He'd driven her to distraction for months before they'd become friends - after all, he was just that brilliant. And he was doing it again.

He was distracting her, what with his mussed curls, bright eyes and quick hands. To be fair, on a normal day, he usually did distract her - but it was in a different way. Like how he left crumbs on the lab benches, or chewed far too loudly. But that was average for any human being - especially to nitpick Jemma Simmons.

But it was only recently that it had come to her attention that he didn't distract her in the ... usual way. No, it was in a way that she only admitted to herself in the darkness of her room. She would smell his cologne on her sheets after their Who marathons, falling asleep wondering what this feeling was. What it meant to be intoxicated by his smile and held captive in his eyes. To want to be near him so badly even though she spent practically every waking moment with him.

Slowly it came to her in the confines of her room that this wasn't how you were supposed to feel about your best friend. It wasn't even how you felt for a sibling. Haltingly, she came to realize that she didn't feel towards Fitz as a friend. The way she felt was ... More than that. It was deeper, maybe even darker than what she had first recognized as a crush.

It was only logical, she began to realize. They were aesthetically pleasing members of the opposite sex, of course one or both of them may feel attraction to the other at some point. It was base human instinct.

But soon it wasn't just his eyes. Yes, they helped the process along, she will admit. But it was the fondness that he spoke of science, the soft way he looked like a boy as he spoke of his dreams. It was the way he comforted her when she felt homesick, or the way he always knew just what she was craving in her tea.

Slowly, achingly, she was falling in love with her best friend.

And she didn't have a clue as to what to do about it.

Which brought her to this day in their lab, as vanilla as the rest. He was hunched - adorably, as her traitorous mind supplied - over his bench, brow knitted in thought as he carefully prodded and exchanged wires within his drone.

Worrying her lip further between her teeth, she allowed the wave of guilt to wash over her. It was cruel of her to fall for him. He was a sweet, innocent boy who clung to her because no one else would spare him a second glance. It wasn't because he felt any sort of romantic attachment.

A part of her wondered if that was right at all. If perhaps he really did see her as something more than a friend or lab partner.

The rest of her shut that train of thought down as quickly as it had come. He was her friend - best friend - for god's sake. An intellectual equal. A Netflix buddy. A friend, simple as that.

Which was why she found the way his brow scrunched in concentration so adorable, or his untamable curls so handsome. Even the way he held himself, like a man with slight self esteem issues. Which, really, summarized Fitz, but that was another path of thought she decided not to travel down.

You're in deep, she sighed to herself internally. Even when she was trying to reason to herself why he was such an excellent acquaintance, Jemma found herself traveling down the path that she banned herself from. It was a dangerous one. It was the path to take away the concrete of their friendship and wash it away into mud.

It was admitting her feelings.

And of course, because Jemma Simmons has a horrible case of speaking before her racing mind can catch up, she blurted out her thought.

"Have you ever thought of us as being more, Fitz?"

Her eyes widened as her lips zipped shut, her hand frozen above the DWARF controls. Oh sh-

Fitz was slowly turning a light shade of pink, starting at his ears and working its way to his cheeks as he toyed with the screwdriver in his hand. Before he spoke, he carefully set the DWARF down on his bench. "I - er, us? As - as, um, ... Us?"

"Well ..." She hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. "Yes."

The engineer rubbed at his ear. "Yeah. I guess ... I mean," he sighed, giving up his denial to look at her sheepishly. "Am I really that obvious?"

Jemma blinked once. Then twice. Fitz stared back at her, though whether they were really seeing each other or not was lost in the moment.

"I - you - obvious?" She stumbled. There was no way he was - was insinuating that he ... "You ... You mean you?" She purposefully left the question hanging, unsure of how to proceed.

He wiped his hands on a grease rag, leaning back against the bench. "Yeah."

Jemma sucked in a breath. Oh.

Fitz couldn't meet her eyes. He wiped at an invisible patch of grease on his knuckle. "I, um - what do you want to do about it?" He was wincing when he spared a glance at her.
Jemma ran her tongue over her teeth, considering.

Really, she had only meant it as a question - a way to peek further into his psych. To see if he had any feelings for her at all. And now here she was, a pile of positive admissions in her lap, and she hadn't the slightest idea what to do with them.

He thought of her as more. The same as her of him. The solution was easy - too easy. To just take that step, to jump into the metaphorical ocean.

She closed the gap between them swiftly, grasping at his shirt collar to press her lips to his. He squeaked - like a man, he'd protest later - against her lips before eagerly responding.

Her eyes were scrunched closed, terrified to open and see his rejection. The plain terror that she'd just destroyed everything dear to the both of them.

But when her lids fluttered open, she was met with nothing but twin pools of emotion. He was open like a book, one she could read clearly for the first time.

They were sharing the same breaths, his warmth tickling against her reddened lips. Jemma ghosted her fingertips along his cheeks before moving them back to thread through his curls.

His hands were liquid heat on her waist, thumbs gently circling. A breathless smile filled her face.

Here they were, best friends, just having shared their first kiss. And for once, she didn't feel guilty about the bubbling in her chest.