Written for the MCU Kink Bingo. Bingo square: champagne and strawberries
Fitz paced the hotel room, wondering if it ever got easier. At least he had recently brought up the subject with Simmons, he reminded himself. He had said the words – "We both know I'm the romantic one"; he had put the topic out into the open, and that had to count for something. Jemma knew that he was romantic, she accepted it, and given how determined Jemma could be, Fitz knew bloody well that if she didn't like it, she wouldn't be with him.
Still, this hotel room was a bit much.
Sheets with a thread count of 1,800 atop an expansive bed? Check. Hot tub? Check. Lighting that could be described as warm and glowing? Check.
Fitz had also placed a bouquet of roses on the marble credenza, and the hotel had provided its standard couples package: champagne and strawberries. Fitz frowned a bit when looking at the strawberries. They were dipped in chocolate, which wasn't great because Jemma was committed to eating as healthfully as possible. She did occasionally permit herself an indulgence, but Fitz knew that she just wouldn't be a fan of the chocolate-dipped strawberries. He should have called the hotel first to ask for "naked" strawberries but, as with so many things given the role SHIELD played in their lives, he hadn't had the time to cover off on every detail. Fitz knew he was lucky that he and Simmons had been granted this entire night off.
Fitz eyed the bed again. His heart rate sped up a bit when he looked at what he had done. He had taken a pillow and strategically repositioned it, closer to the center of the bed than the headboard. Simmons liked a pillow under her rear when she received oral, and Fitz intended to pleasure her endlessly tonight. So the pillow was in place, waiting.
This was bold, he knew. Too blatantly sexual? Too much?
On the other hand, their sex life was – well, it was as wonderful as he'd dared ever hope. For a new couple, FitzSimmons had found their rhythm in this area as quickly as they'd jelled in every other area.
And, of course, how could the placement of the pillow be too blatantly sexual when their entire reason for coming here was to make love? They certainly weren't going to discuss dialectic polarization or Dr. Radcliffe's latest idea. They were here to get away from the base for a night. They'd even discussed the idea of going out for a fancy dinner and had nixed it in favor of heading straight for the hotel. And Simmons was definitely no prude, as Fitz had learned during the past two months. He knew that she appreciated his efforts to pleasure her, because she told him so. Perhaps when she walked in and saw the placement of the pillow, a few pathways in her brain would begin to respond. It certainly was more likely to stimulate her than the chocolate-covered strawberries.
Fitz's phone made a noise. Simmons texted to say she'd just parked and would be up shortly. Fitz wondered how long they would need to be together before his heart would stop pounding in a situation like this. Would there ever be a day when such a rendezvous would not cause his mind and body to thrum with anticipation? Given the lives they led – given what had so recently happened to Lincoln – would they even live to see such a day? Fitz brushed that thought aside. They faced enough death and destruction on any given mission, but this night would be about romance, about champagne and strawberries. And a deliberately-positioned pillow.
Simmons stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button, her toes already feeling unpleasantly pinched. Although they had decided not to go out, she had secretly decided to dress up for Fitz. She owned one little black dress and one pair of heels – and she was wearing both of them now.
And not much else, as Fitz would soon discover.
High heels would never be much to Simmons' liking, but since they weren't going out, she knew she'd be able to ditch them shortly after she made it to the hotel room. Her feet were grateful at the thought. She fleetingly wondered whether Fitz would offer to massage her feet and calves, out of concern over the fact that she had worn heels during the walk from the car lot to their room - and figured he probably would. She wouldn't turn that down.
She clutched her overnight bag, with its secret nestled within the side pocket. She didn't need to wonder and hope – she knew Fitz would love it.
Jemma knocked on the hotel room's door. She hadn't stopped at the lobby for a key; why delay their reunion even a few minutes more? They had spent enough time apart.
Fitz eagerly pulled her into an embrace and a kiss, which she enthusiastically returned. He told her she looked beautiful, and she remarked that he didn't look too bad himself. (Really, Simmons silently admonished herself; she would go to her grave berating herself for spending so many years unaware of Fitz's gorgeousness. He had been gawky and shy when they'd first met, true, and first impressions do sometimes sear themselves into people's brains. He was so stunningly handsome now though. Perhaps the transformation had simply occurred too slowly over so many years for it to really register).
"You're thinking of something," Fitz observed.
"Both of us are always thinking. But," Simmons said, determined to change the topic, "I brought something for you."
"You did?"
"More accurately, I made you something." She set down her overnight bag and reached for the container in the side pocket, deliberately giving Fitz a view of her backside. She knew that her dress hugged her figure. She slowly turned back to him and handed him the container.
As Fitz opened it, Simmons said, "Since we're not going out for dinner, I made you…."
"The sandwich!" Fitz exclaimed, his eyes growing wide. "Oh Jemma!"
"You know, making the sandwich is quite worth it, just to see your reaction." Simmons smiled broadly.
"Did – did you make one for yourself?" Fitz asked.
"Of course." She watched him. He wasn't unwrapping the sandwich, just holding it.
Fitz must have picked up on her observation. "I knew we weren't going out for dinner so I grabbed something before I left," he admitted. "But – I'll be hungry again, later on!"
"I will too." Simmons had been so focused on Fitz – hugging and kissing him, and then presenting him with the sandwich – that she hadn't fully taken stock of her surroundings. "Let me take a look around," she said, sliding off her heels.
"Lovely room," she murmured. She peeked inside the bathroom and took note of the hot tub. "Very nice. Perhaps we can use it later." She turned back towards the main part of the room, where suddenly one detail registered. Absolutely nothing in the room was out of place, other than her bag and shoes sitting on the floor, and yet one thing wasn't quite where it should be. Simmons looked at the bed and made a very slight tilt of her head.
She then turned towards Fitz, wanting to feel his body against hers again, wanting to feel his heat. She placed an arm around him. "Interesting that that pillow is in the center of the bed…." she began, trying to keep her tone neutral.
"Oh, I placed it there," Fitz said. His voice was steady and firm.
Jemma looked at his face and could describe it only as hungry. There was that look in his eyes, that intensity mixed with awe, with a strong hint of pure desire.
"You did?" Jemma asked, knowing that he would pick up on the fact that her breathing had intensified. She also surmised that her cheeks just turned slightly pinkish. "Why ever would you do that? Pillows are usually placed at the head of the bed."
Fitz leaned towards her ear and gently licked it. He then murmured into her ear, "Oh, I thought I would get it in position for something I plan to do to you tonight."
Jemma's heart throbbed. There was something about this new Fitz, this confident man. She would always adore the sweet and awkward version of Fitz she had known for so long, but this self-assured man, this one who knew that he had a lot of offer….well, he made a small part of Jemma's body awaken and slowly begin to demand attention.
Jemma reached her hand to the side of his face and pulled him into another kiss. His kisses always worked such magic on her. As a scientist, Jemma knew that it wasn't magic but rather a combination of biological and emotional factors. Yet she now – at last – could understand why so many people used that word to describe sensations such as these. His kisses seemed to transport her away.
His mouth tasted so good. The feel of his tongue touching hers, the feel of their lips playing as their bodies pressed firmly together. It was nearly overwhelming. Even the roughness of his facial hair against her smooth skin evoked pleasurable sensations. Jemma's heart and mind pulsed with a combination of her intense love for Fitz and her intense desire for him. During their time together as a couple, she found that the intensity and passion was only continuing to build.
As they kissed, their hands leisurely roamed each other's bodies. Fitz was caressing as much of her as he could, though her dress still left a lot covered up. Jemma had liked it when Fitz had licked her ear a minute ago, so she took a few moments to nibble on his.
After a moment, they simultaneously stepped back for a minute just to catch their breaths. Fitz spoke first. "Should – uh, should we discuss what we wanted to do next? I wasn't sure if you wanted to get straight to the bed or – or use the hot tub. Or open the champagne and strawberries. Or I could give you a foot massage; those shoes you had on didn't look comfortable."
Jemma couldn't resist smiling, especially at his last suggestion. He was so predictable, but in the best way. She also completely loved the fact that he talked and asked questions, and didn't assume he knew how she wanted the night to play out. She decided to tell him so.
"I love that you, uh, open up a discussion," Jemma said. "You don't just assume that the first thing I want to do is get on the bed for you to ravish me, I mean, of course I do want us to use that bed – and that pillow - at one point or another!" she added, with an awkward smile.
"I would never just assume," Fitz responded firmly.
Jemma wanted to add that his communication skills were far better than those of either of the men she'd been intimate with before, but she quickly decided that now was not the time for sharing comparisons with him.
"Well, to answer your question, all of those options sound wonderful." She tilted her head towards the bathroom. "The hot tub did look quite delicious. It might be a nice prelude to using the bed itself." She ran a hand along his chest. "We could even tap into the champagne and strawberries as we use the hot tub."
"And I could massage your feet and calves while we're in the tub!" Fitz added. They were such an efficient duo.
He took a glance at the strawberries. "They're dipped in chocolate though. The strawberries. I know that doesn't quite work with your healthy eating plan."
"Nothing wrong with an occasional indulgence. And 'champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries' sounds better than 'champagne and steamed broccoli.'"
Fitz grimaced and laughed as he echoed, "'Champagne and steamed broccoli'? Ugh!" The look on his face left little doubt as to his opinion of steamed broccoli, not that Jemma hadn't already known his feelings on the subject.
With that, they enjoyed their shared laughter and headed towards the hot tub.
THE END