#atouchofwhimsy

Leo Fitz was not famous for his study habits. He was famous for his brains, which were admittedly impressive, and for his ability to survive in a room whose floor had been indistinguishable from his laundry basket for most of the past four years. Truly, she adored everything about him (not that she would ever tell him and risk his head getting any bigger than it already was) - but that was really not the point of her current internal rant. 

At the moment, Jemma was trying very hard to get an extra hour’s worth of studying in on her couch, and Fitz simply refused to leave her alone. They’d only been dating for a couple months (although somehow it felt like both forever and not nearly long enough all at once), and now he seemed to think that he could just slide up behind her on the sofa and kiss her neck whenever he wanted.

And no, it didn’t matter that she’d encouraged him to do things exactly like this in the past. Clearly she had her “studying face” on - now was not the time.

But he simply refused to read her mind today, apparently, his fingers brushing aside her ponytail and his lips meandering down the back of her neck and along the curve of her shoulder in just the way she liked. Jemma inhaled and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to repeat the last sentence she’d read rather than focus on the way one hand had slid around her abdomen, palm warm even through the fabric of her camisole. Fitz nipped lightly at her neck, soothing the mark with his tongue and lips, and a low whimper escaped her throat. 

The sound shook some sense back into her, however, and she gave her head a sharp shake, forcing him a few inches back. 

“I’m trying to study, Fitz,” she said, trying to sound snappish and not breathy. “Stop distracting me!”

“You don’t need to study for that exam,” he replied blithely, wrapping both arms around her stomach and tucking his chin against her shoulder. 

“Of course I need to -”

“You’ve had that textbook memorized for at least two weeks.”

“How could you possibly -”

“You’ve been quoting it in your sleep.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks warmed. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling. “Didn’t mention it ‘cause I know you love homework more’n life itself.”

Jemma let out an indignant sniff, although she did let herself lean back into his chest. “I like other things more than homework, you know.”

Fitz made a faux-serious little hum, and she rolled her eyes in advance of his teasing. “Mmmm, nope, can’t think of anything. Must be lying.”

“I like you more than homework.” She bit her lip, feeling a brief clench of his fingers into her skin. 

“You can’t see it,” he said at last, voice a little breathless, “but I’m smiling really, really wide right now.”

“Widely,” she corrected, giggling as he groaned and twisted her awkwardly around so that he could clamber over her on the couch. After a little bit of maneuvering, he was leaning above her on his elbows, blue eyes shining in the late afternoon sunlight.

“I don’t think I need to hear you say the L-word ever after that,” he continued teasing, his natural Scottish brogue making every joke sound just a tad more wry. “Saying you like something more than homework’s about the same to you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jemma answered immediately, gratified by the way his amusement switched right into surprise. Lifting one hand up to trace her fingers along the curve of his jaw, she gave him a shy smile. “Yeah.” Then she stretched up to fit their mouths together, nerves zinging through her veins even though they’d already talked about this, talked about how she hadn’t known at all and then how she’d known so acutely that sometimes it hurt. 

After a few seconds, Fitz pulled away and started pressing kisses over her cheeks, nose, forehead, and she burst into giggles. When his mouth found hers again, Jemma sighed happily and wound her arms around his shoulders, thinking that maybe she could put off studying this once. Just for a little while longer.