A/N: This picks up where my story The Breast of Intentions leaves off, before the "one week later" epilogue. They're both basically PWP, so this can be enjoyed separately without too much confusion, I think.

Fitz gave himself one last pass with a damp cloth and grinned at himself in the bathroom mirror, adjusting the collar on his plaid shirt. He and Simmons had... Well, he should probably think of her as Jemma now, not Simmons, that was for sure! And since she was waiting for him, with a condom!, in her room he should really get back there as soon as humanly possible. He picked his boxers up from the bathroom floor and made a face. These certainly weren't going back on, that was for sure. He pulled his jeans up over his bare ass and pulled the zip up carefully. This would be the worst possible moment for a wardrobe-related injury to occur.

He thought for a moment. Scratch that. Second worst.

Ducking into his room for a moment, he briefly considered getting a fresh pair of boxers as he tossed the sticky ones he held into his laundry basket along with his t-shirt. He grinned again and decided against it, figuring that he was just going to be taking them off again immediately. With a bounce in his step, he made his way back to Simm- Jemma's bunk.

Jemma finished arranging herself on the bed. She'd shed her jeans and waffled about losing her panties. On the one hand, she wasn't going to be needing them for long. On the other hand, she was really looking forward to Fitz pulling them off. That definitely decided it for her. She picked his cardigan off of the floor with a wicked smile on her face. As priceless as his face had been when she'd been topless in front of him, he'd looked delightfully tortured when her breasts were partially covered. Until this afternoon, she'd had no idea that near-nudity was even more erotic than being completely naked. For all parties involved.

She licked her lips and wiggled slightly in anticipation of Fitz's return. Her whole body was on pins and needles and sitting still just made the feeling worse. She breathed quickly and shallowly as she waited for the door knob to turn. How long did it take to wipe up? Honestly. In future, she was going to have to keep some moist towelettes on hand, just to speed things up.

When he opened the door, Fitz stopped in his tracks. He completely forgot to breathe for a moment as the image of Jemma Simmons, wearing nothing but some white cotton panties and his partly-buttoned cardigan, imprinted itself on his brain. She knelt in the centre of the bed, her bare legs slightly parted and her face still slightly flushed from her recent orgasm. He blinked and attempted to lift his jaw from its slack position, but he couldn't seem to remember how to do that.

Jemma smiled. That was an even better reaction that the one she'd been hoping for. "Are you going to come in?" she asked as he continued to stand in the doorway to her room. The dumbfounded look on his face was brilliant and all, but that was a public hallway, and she didn't need everyone else to see her like this.

He took a few quick, shallow breaths and stared at her for a moment longer. Finally, he realized that she'd said something, although he couldn't for the life of him say what. "Huh?" he asked eloquently as he dragged his eyes up from her body to her face. "What?"

She laughed, and then laughed again as he whimpered at the effect it had on her chest. After one last breathy chuckle, she caught her bottom lip with her front teeth and crooked a come-hither finger at him. "C'mere," she said, just barely able to keep a straight face, and her voice was both sultry and amused.

Fitz swallowed hard with a dry throat and moved into her room. After a further few seconds of staring at her, he recovered himself enough to close and lock the door behind him. "Sorry," he apologized, turning to look at her again. "I just..." he shook his head, wonder and disbelief clear in his expression. "Wow," he breathed. He took a deep breath and sighed it out again. "We're really going to..." he trailed off and shook his head again, placing his hands on his hips as a huge grin spread across his face.

Jemma rolled her eyes and smiled indulgently. "Only if you actually come here," she laughed.

He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, head bowing slightly but eyes looking up at her. "Oops?" he said, smiling lopsidedly and walking over. "Better?" he asked when he was standing right in front of her.

"Much," she confirmed, raising up on her knees and reaching out for his shirt. Pulling him towards her, she smiled and tilted her head, eyes fluttering closed. Her tongue came out to wet her lips, and then he kissed her.

It was soft at first, just a light touch of skin on skin, both of them smiling as their lips met. Then her mouth moved and his responded and her head was tilting further to the side. His hands came up to cup her face and her fingers tightened their grip on his shirt as her stomach dropped right through the floor like they were on some sort of roller coaster and his tongue was a loop-the-loop.

He loved how soft her lips felt against his and the way she whimpered quietly when he deepened their kiss. She held onto him with a fierceness that surprised him. Like letting go wasn't even an option. He loved how they were always on the same page.

"Wow," Fitz breathed again as they broke apart, and he looked at her with a goofy grin on his face.

"Wow yourself," Jemma agreed, giggling slightly.

He brushed her cheeks one more time with his thumbs and then moved his hands down to start on his shirt buttons.

"Uh uh," Jemma shook her head, gently swatting his hands out of the way. "Let me," she smiled, licking her lips. He'd had ample opportunity to enjoy looking at and discovering her body, and now was her chance to do the same with his. She was going to enjoy this.