prompt: 5 times Skye kisses Jemma
I.
They kiss on New Years with glasses of champagne in their hands and sparks like fireworks in their eyes.
They kiss because they're standing right next to each other and it's tradition, but they also kiss because Skye has been next to Jemma all night and that's got to mean something.
And the kiss tastes half like alcohol and half like chocolate-covered strawberries, and the shy smile Jemma gives when they pull away dims Skye's surroundings until they're just her, just Jemma.
Everyone around them, all twelve or so vaguely drunk people, are clapping, so they start clapping as well without really knowing why. It's a new year, and they clap. Someone spills champagne, and they clap some more. The room is happy and the people are happy, and that's not a common thing for a group of SHIELD agents.
But Skye feels awfully silly for clapping about the new year when the moment she wants to go back to is irrevocably in the last one.
II.
Skye wakes the next morning with a headache and some heartache, and her feet lead her down to the lab instinctively, easily.
She's sliding open the glass door before she realizes where she is, but then Jemma looks up and smiles brightly and she forgets again. Because Jemma doesn't look upset about what happened, or angry or regretful or any of the other millions of worries that had spiraled through Skye's head.
She looks happy.
So Skye takes her customary seat in the lab and simply watches the scientists work. They talk to each other constantly, bouncing off ideas and insults and words that are too long for Skye to even process. They're obviously working on something important, because the whirling of machinery is louder than usual and Fitz seems tense.
It dings. Fitz nods and bounces in excitement.
Skye might not know what it means, but she can glean that it means something good, so there's at least a baseline of joyousness when Jemma's lips suddenly meet her own.
Though she supposes it could've been the worst news in the world and she would've been content to sit and taste Jemma's cherry chapstick flavored lips for forever and a little more.
III.
And so it starts, whatever it is.
It's both casual and not at all casual at the same time, and neither is willing to start that conversation and take that leap. Because statistically insignificant chances are chances nevertheless, and there's a infinitely small chance that the response will be no, we aren't together.
They remain silent, then, halfway content with their unspoken agreement.
But danger has a way of prompting those things, so when Skye leaves for a mission and returns with a bruise or twenty, Jemma doesn't think twice before kissing each one better.
Skye asks quietly, then, if this means they're official, if they're an honest to goodness thing, and if this means she has permission to continue kissing Jemma.
And she takes Jemma's amusement and reply — "sometimes I wonder about you" — as a yes.
IV.
It's not love yet, but it's pretty damn close, and Skye thinks this with her lips pressed against Jemma's with a newfound intensity.
She's stolen Jemma's chapstick and used it, and Jemma smirks against her lips as she recognizes the taste.
Skye's eyes are closed because they need to be, because with open eyes the feelings were too strong, so she had to dim them somehow. She pulls away just barely and opens them and gazes into Jemma's eyes and marvels at the magnificence that is this girl.
V.
And then her eyes slip shut and she leans in once more.