Fitzsimmons

Falling

Quick Note: This seems like it is torn from the pages of a YA romance novel, but this is honestly going to be them in the future. This will help get through the anxiety of waiting for the next episode.

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It was the little things that assured him of his feelings. How his hand would fit against a wave of her silky hair. Sharpie hearts containing each others' names on their converse. The brushing of her delicate fingers against his palm while they watched old scary movies. Seeing her in one of his old, torn sweaters in the mornings, carrying a warm mug of tea. How his calloused fingertips would find their way through the holes of that sweater. Feeling the heat of the ceramic pressed against his chest as they kissed.

Falling each and every day, more and more, but never hitting a bottom. The endless bliss that was loving Jemma Simmons.

"Have you ever thought of freshly mown grass as being romantic?" she inquired one day as they lay barefoot in the hidden corner of a country club they would often picnic in. Sure, it was technically trespassing, but all they did was lie there, not disturbing anything, so the gardeners pretended not to notice.

"Strange thought," he commented, squinting at the clouds. "But now that you mention it, I suppose so." Jemma grinned at his accent. Even when she heard it everyday, it was one of those things you can't get over. By just listening to his voice she could picture his face. That's why she closed her eyes for most of their late night talks.

"I wonder why that is," she observed. "Cut grass isn't natural. But neither are most scents, I guess." Fitz grunted in agreement, his chest fluctuating under Jemma's head. She laughed towards the afternoon sun, then turned so she was facing him, hovering over his face.

She leaned forward and inhaled deeply, taking the smell of Fitz in. "Oddly like a decade-old book. With yellowing pages." Fitz scrunched his eyebrows, unsure of how to take Jemma's words. "It's good," she promised. Fitz smiled happily.

"You smell like lab. And Whole Foods peanut butter." Jemma threw her head back in laughter.

"That's because I had those sandwiches you made for lunch." Her nose touched his. As her smile softened, she let herself be pulled towards him as he craned his head up. Their lips met halfway, and Fitz grinned into the kiss.

Pulling away slightly, he whispered, "Taste like peanut butter, too." Jemma collapsed onto him, body shaking from her laughing fit. Her face was pressed into his neck, making his breath catch in his throat despite the humor of the situation.

"Can you...?" Fitz requested respectfully. He still wouldn't initiate much of anything romantic between them, out of respect for Jemma. Jemma was fine with it. Thought it was adorable, actually. She also had no idea how he could restrain himself so successfully.

She leaned back in, hot breath fanning her mouth until they were connected. again. Despite what most people thought, the two of them were very passionate when alone. Their reservations about their relationship in public melted away into unadulterated emotion, only expressible through close proximity to one another. Any distance apart felt overwhelmingly too much, even if it was but an inch.

Soon Fitz had uncharacteristically wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter to him needfully. Jemma had to break away this time, too breathless to explain why. He kept his lips lightly attached to her cheek, familiar desperation for her to stay clenching his heart.

"I, as a human, need to breathe from time to time," Jemma explained jokingly, keeping herself close to him. He could feel her chest rising and falling against his side.

"Sorry, I just," Fitz had trouble saying it. "I'm terrified of losing you sometimes."

"I did mean for this to be a light-hearted, casual conversation," Jemma said, trying to keep their conversation that way. "Scents right into fear. Whatever you want to talk about, Fitz." She laughed, while Fitz smiled insecurely.

"You have no reason in the world to be scared of me leaving. For several reasons," Jemma promised, then shifted upwards so she was barely touching her lips to his ear.

"One, no one else would ever date us." She placed a smiling, feather-light kiss on the shell of his ear, then ghosted down his jawbone.

"Two, we need each other too much." She brushed her lips over his cheek, nearing his mouth.

"And three, I love you." She spoke genuinely, staring into his warm brown eyes. Fitz finally had a natural smile on his face. Jemma initiated nearly their thousandth kiss, more passionate than ever before.

Since both were perfectionists, they would likely never accept that they were good enough for the other, but that is what makes their relationship so perfect.

A constant strive to treat each other better.