Summary:Â Fitz leaves a game of Truth or Dare looking for something to alleviate his yearning for Daisy and Lincoln and instead finds so much more.
Notes: Written for @loved-the-stars-too-fondly for the âTruth or Dareâ square in my @marvelpolyshipbingo card.
Sneak-Peak:
He had been attracted to Daisy since they first met; that attraction slipped to the back of his mind while their friendship grew and progressed, but never really stopped. It didnât hurt to think she was gorgeous while still being a good friend, right? Right. And then she had met Lincoln and they had kick it off, yada yada yada. And Fitz was genuinely happy for her. She is one of the best people he has ever met: how could he wish for her anything but the absolute best? With their bumps on the road and everything, Lincoln had managed to give her that all the way into marriage. Â
It had taken him some more time to realize he was also attracted to Lincoln. It had all come to him in barely visible snippets, a good laugh shared during game night, an inside joke that made Daisy roll her eyes, the spark in his eyes luring Fitz in whenever he looked at him for too long. Fuck fuck.
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AN ~ and with this fic I dub my @mcubingo complete! donât worry though I will still be filling the prompts Iâve got for squares that I didnât end up filling. see this post for more details. in the meantime, enjoy some FitzHunter ft. innuendo, eye sex, and Unnecessary Physical Contact
Relationships/Characters: Leo Fitz x Lance Hunter
Prompt: âweaponsâ for @mcubingo
Rating: T
Warnings: N/A
Other Tags: Sparring, Flirting, Innuendo, Kissing,
Summary:
Hunter decides Fitz is up for a challenge.
Fitz agrees.
Read on AO3 (~800wd)
disarming
âI think itâs time for a challenge,â Hunter announces, and Fitz feels frustration flare through his body. His muscles are starting to ache and heâs getting a headache from concentrating so hard, willing himself to shoot straight. Heâs always been good with guns when it has been about the physics, the engineering; when it comes to holding one steady and still, especially since his injury, every passing second is a challenge.
Hunter is unfazed, and swings his arms to stretch his shoulders out as he fetches a drink of water. So they are moving onto the next thing then, and for that Fitz is glad - especially when Hunter abandons the gun range altogether and slips between the elastics on the sparring ring. He leans on the top line with a sly smile on his face and offers -
âWhaddaya say? Do you wanna fight me, mate?â
Fitz is frustrated with him, but not that frustrated.
Then again, it would be fun to get in a few swings. Fitz quite enjoyed the cocky look Hunter got about him when he was winning - and refused to surrender when he was losing, because the key according to him was to always pretend you were winning. He liked the challenge, liked getting caught up in it - it wasnât so calculated as taking aim. He had to learn to trust his instinct.
(Plus, if he were being honest, he did enjoy getting tossed around a little too, especially when Hunter had that little glint of mischief in his eye. There was a reason they called it hot and heavy, after all.)
So Fitz follows Hunter into the ring, all but ready to pounce, and thatâs when Hunter declares:
âKnives!â
âWhat?â
Fitz blinks as Hunter pulls out two small fake wooden blades from the array at the other side of the ring. All of a sudden Fitz is feeling much less ready to pounce sexually and much more like decking Hunter for real. Only, heâs not sure his hand is capable of making a fist right now. He flexes his fingers, and grimaces. But Hunter still has that infuriatingly smooth smile, and itâs hot, and both of them are breathing just a little heavy, and it doesnât take much for the desire to come back when Hunter takes a little too long to pass him the knife.
âHere,â Hunter reminds him, letting their fingers linger together on the wooden shaft. âRemember, especially in a combat situation, youâre going to be tempted to hold onto this thing for dear life but nobody wants that. All youâll get his hand cramps.â
He adjusts Fitzâs hand, rounding it, and thereâs no way he doesnât know what Fitz is thinking but he smiles right on through the heat that creeps up the back of Fitzâs neck.
âYou wanna be loose with it,â Hunter instructs. âTrust the knife. Like this.â
Almost effortlessly, or so it seems, Hunter begins to twist and turn his blade between his fingers, over his knuckles, forward and back easily as though it is an extra limb. Fitz can feel his hand cramping up at the very thought, and hums indecisively. Hunter stops showing off - or does he, because as he backs up to invite Fitz into an armed spar, he shrugs and offers some advice.
âDonât worry, you donât have to get that fancy with it. I just like doing that to distract people. You can just as easily do it with your mouth.â
âBy talking, you mean?â Fitz challenges, with a raised eyebrow and a whisper of a grin of his own.
âI never said that,â Hunter clarifies, with just the slightest hint of teasing in his tone. âWhy? Did you have something else in mind?â
He tosses the knife, catches it, and runs his finger softly along the hilt. Heâs watching the knife, not Fitz, and heâs left his defences open on purpose. Fitz takes the invitation, charging him with a kiss that pins him up against the far side, straining the elastics under their weight. The knife falls from Hunterâs hand and he wraps his arms around Fitz, pulling him closer. The air grows hot and heavy as promised, and then, after a moment, their lips pull away.
Fitz beams.
Hunterâs smile is softer now, a little more dazed, but still victorious. It was, after all, what he had planned all along.
âI guess you win,â he concedes.
Fitz is distracted by the taste of Hunter on his lips. He remembers that there is a name for that type of smile Hunter was giving him before, and that funnily enough that word is disarming, and that that realisation is going to make an excellent pun one day.
But not today, he promises himself as Hunter pulls him into another kiss. Today, he has other things to do.
And now that the holiday season has well and truly passed, hello and welcome to our new icon, an oldie but a goodie from this collection by @antoine-triplettâ!
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We are super excited to be sharing the silly season with you! We canât wait to see all the fun, festive, Fitz-centric things you all will create to share with us (like our cheery new Christmas icon from @memorizingthedigitsofpi!)
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Monthly Challenge: Smutember
Welcome to Smutember, a time to celebrate the sexy side of Fitz!
The Challenge: Create works that feature the concept of Fitz + sex. It could be funny, shamelessly smutty, or even angsty, but this month weâre all about the sexy side of Fitz.
Suggestions:
edits and gifsets featuring innuendo or crude humour
sex-related headcanons - eg how does Fitz feel about sex? what was his first time like? what are his fantasies?
& of course, smutty art & fics!
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Note that any fic rated M or higher, or any explicitly sexual art or images, will be tagged with #NSFW as well as relevant ships or characters. Works of any kind which contain innuendo or other lower-level sexual references may or may not be tagged as such, depending on the discretion of the admins.
Tagging: There is no membership requirement for this Network, so everyone is welcome to join our challenge! Please tag either #leofitznet or #leofitznetwork in the first five tags of your original post for your work to be reblogged.
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AN ~ Not for any Bingos, but for a very patient Anon who asked for âDaisy being there for Fitz after Jemma left in S1/2âł. I hope you like it!
Angst/Hurt/Comfort. platonic FitzDaisy, with background Bus Kids/FS as was canon compatible at that time. Rated G.
Read on AO3 (~2000wd)
from the ashes
Skye was busy a lot these days: May was a tough S.O., and there was a lot to be done in the wake of the fall of Shield, with hundreds if not thousands of agents in the wind who had to be tracked down, identified, and protected or blacklisted depending on which way they had turned. She had been plunged into the thick of it, but at least now she had the confidence of Coulson, May and the team on her side. Other team members were not faring so well, and especially not Fitz.
When Skye had first found out what had happened, who had done it, she was just about sick with rage. Her instinct had been to barrel after Ward, if not physically, then online. Expose him. Send the full forces of Shield to hunt him down. But there were more important things for them all to be doing and surely one of those things was helping Fitz. He had not died, after all; simply had the life heâd known blown to shrapnel. The problem with that was, though, that nobody knew how to pick up the pieces. Not Fitz himself, certainly not Skye, and not even poor Jemma, who poured her heart and soul into trying to help him and found herself running up against brick wall after brick wall after brick wall. Everything she tried to do seemed to hurt or stress or betray him, and he was so frustrated with everything, including himself, that even if he could figure out how to do it better, he couldnât articulate it to her. Skye could never have imagined them becoming so broken, and even when they did, she couldnât imagine Jemma leaving.
Then Jemma did.
This had shattered what was left of Fitz. His life, his friends, his confidence in himself. All of it was awash in a mad storm and Skye knew all too well what it was like to be abandoned by somebody she was sure had loved her, in one way or another. She knew all to well what Fitz must be feeling: after all, Jemma had never given either of them a reason for leaving, had never even said goodbye. Skye had thought â and so had Fitz apparently â that she had just been headed off on a visit home, but then sheâd dropped off the radar. Just like that. Fitz had torn himself up over it for weeks, and had come to the conclusion that she had given up on him, or been repulsed, or been scared off: that, for whatever reason, she had abandoned him. Skye had tried and tried to promise him that was not the case, but she couldnât give him an alternative. If she were being honest, she was feeling quite abandoned too.
Unfortunately, this didnât really help her reach out to Fitz as much as she might like. He was feeling lower than heâd ever felt, and he was bitter and angry and horrifically depressed and honestly, Skye was worried about him, but if Jemma couldnât help him, how could she? And it didnât help that he struggled to communicate back, too. He was different to how he was before, and it unnerved Skye â it unnerved all of them â and though she was more ashamed by the minute to admit it, she knew the team was starting to abandon him too. They ignored him when he got upset, instead of trying to figure out why. They didnât stop the lab techs from gossiping, or from avoiding Fitz in the hallways. They even started to avoid him themselves. It was cowardly, Skye knew, but what else was there to do? She was busy, she told herself. She was just too busy.
But she loved her friend, and it hurt to see him, hear him, feel him in pain. She just needed a push in the right direction, to help her passion overcome her hesitation, and today was the day she received that push, in the form of a crashing sound. It could have been a mistake, she thought, but then it was followed by another, and a howl of anger and despair.
It was coming from Fitzâs room, of all places, and Skyeâs first thought was that he must be in danger so she ran up to his door with her heart in her throat. The smashes and thuds continued in a fairly regular pattern, with the occasional cursing and muttering and wordless screeches in between. Then there was a break. Perhaps heâd run out of things to throw around, but he seemed to be breathing heavily. Running out of momentum? Skye took a deep breath. It was now or never.
She keyed in his code and the door slid open.
Fitz turned to her and for a brief, brief moment she saw his body light up as if he thought that maybe, just maybe, it was Jemma coming home. When he saw that it was Skye, he froze up. There were books and clothes and sheets and instruments and souvenirs scattered about the place, some more broken than others, and he standing amongst it all. Helpless. Distressed. He held a plastic model Tardis in one hand, clenching and unclenching his fingers around it as if waiting for the fury and pain to bubble back up and inspire him to throw it to the ground, but it did not. It hovered below the surface, quelled by that brief moment of hope that all was not lost, and by the fact that Skye hadnât turned and left him yet.
âI donât think you want to do that,â Skye offered. âYou donât want to break that, Fitz. Maybe put it down?â
Fitz clenched his fist again, until he could feel the plastic straining against his fingers. Surely nothing would be such a satisfying cure to the tension beneath his skin, than to throw it into his dresser mirror, or similar. It probably wouldnât break though, and his arm didnât want to move anyway. Tension was turning to tears, overwhelmed by confusion and frustration and shame.
âItâs okay, Fitz, Iâm not going to take it off you,â Skye assured him. âI just⊠I understand. I understand why youâre so hurt so angry, but this isnât how you want to deal with it. I promise.â
He nodded. She waited a beat and asked,
âCan I come in?â
Fitz retreated and sat on the side of his bed. Skye stepped through the carnage to join him, and he realised as a bitter taste settled on his tongue, that she was right. Littered across the floor were Academy shirts and jackets and books he and Jemma had once studied together. A little carved monkey on a keychain, a gift sheâd bought him from their first trip to the Central Park Zoo. An old copy of the Hobbit, with some of its pages scattered â it hadnât been faring well before this onslaught, when Jemma had read it to Fitz at his bedside. Seeing it finally broken brought tears to his eyes, and all he could think of was how much Jemma loved that book. What had he done?
Skye inhaled slowly, heavily, as she took in the wreckage of the room. Beside her, Fitz whimpered with regret and heartache and Skye began to feel herself fill with the same. Sheâd been doing quite well with denying how much she missed Jemma, by hiding in the betrayal of it all just as well as Fitz did sometimes, but the loose ends still stung sometimes. Especially since sheâd hoped to be putting those days behind her â which was part of the reason she had come in here. She took Fitzâs hand, the one not still half-heartedly clinging to the Tardis, and intertwined his fingers with hers. She leaned into him, until the warmth and pressure soothed them both.
âI donât mean, like, you shouldnât be angry,â she clarified solemnly. âIâm angry too, I get it. I know you loved her a lot and sometimes it feels like it was all some big joke and none of this is worth it anymore, right? Itâs just- Iâve been there, and I wish somebody had stopped me.â
ââŠFrom what?â Fitz asked, after a moment.
Skye drew a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. More came to take their place, but apparently it was going to be that kind of a moment, so she let them be this time.
âYou know how I was⊠I was in the foster system when I was a kid. Some of the homes, they sucked, but some of them were great. They were really great. But even the great ones kicked me out. Sent me back. I mean, now I know it was Shield making them do it, to keep me safe or whatever, but it still- it still hurt, you know?â She sniffed again, suddenly feeling acutely like that little girl all over again. She squeezed Fitzâs hand and pushed on. It had been so long since sheâd thought about this, and felt it all, that now she couldnât stop.
âOne family, they bought me this camera,â she recalled. âOh, it was beautiful. Way fancier than I knew anything about, so I spent weeks reading the manual and watching these tutorial things, learning everything I could about it. Taking pictures of literally everything. We went on a camping trip, me and them and their son and daughter, and I documented it all on this camera and I was going to scrapbook it and everything. I finally thought I was part of something. But of courseâŠâ
âThey sent you back.â
âYeah.â Skye blinked. Closed her eyes for a moment, lost in the bittersweet memory of her last few moments of peace at that house. âAs soon as we got home. I didnât even get to unpack.
âSo of course I was furious, and I smashed the camera and ripped the manual all up and everything and it wasnât until way later, after Iâd run away and was living alone in my van feeling sorry for myself one night, that I realised⊠Iâd destroyed everything I had of the people that had loved me. That had taken me into their home, their family. I could have done photography for money, I could have even sold the parts, but thatâs not what I missed. It was the photos. It was the whole thing, what it meant. It was gone. Forever. All because Iâd been a bit too angry for a few too many seconds.
âI just- I didnât want that to happen with you and Simmons. Thatâs all.â
She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes, and glanced at Fitzâs other hand â the one around the Tardis. He lifted it from his lap, and put the Tardis down on the bed-sheets beside him, safely away from impulsive hands. In silence, Fitz took a few moments to let Skyeâs story sink in, and then squeezed her hand.
âThank you,â he said. âI think- I think youâre right.â
âI hope Iâm right,â Skye added.
âMe too.â
For a few more seconds, they sat in silence together, and then Fitz slid off the bed to the floor and began cleaning up the mess. As he cradled his precious copy of The Hobbit and tried to slip its fallen pages back into place, he had to wonder if â and if so, how â it might ever be the same again. Maybe it wouldnât, he realised, but at least now, he had Skye kneeling beside him to help pick up the pieces. Perhaps this didnât need to feel quite so much like an ending after all.
Thanks to @florchisâ for her wonderful banner, and to all of you for celebrating Fitz with us after our revival earlier this year! To keep the party going for Fitzâs special day (August 19th), weâre going to be hosting an Exchange!
Rules & Requests:
Please have your askbox open and Anon enabled so that your partner may communicate with you, about your gift or general fandom love! Note that the person you are creating for will not be the same as the person creating for you, so keep it a surprise!
You may create in almost any form, but we ask a minimum of 1000 words fic, 6 gifs, or equivalent effort in other media. Mostly, we ask that you put the same amount of effort into your gift that you would hope your partner is putting into yours.
You may create for/ask to receive any relationship other than FitzWard, Fraida, or FitzSimmons-centric works, as these are against Network policy for various reasons. You are welcome to create for/ask to receive platonic relationships, as well as romantic ones, and/or Fitz-centric (rather than relationship-centric) works.
What to do now?
Sign up using this form by midnight 6th July in your local timezone.
Receive your partner by midnight 9th July in @theclaravoyantâs local timezone. Get creating!
Posting will begin August 19th, potentially with staggering, depending on the number of participants. Watch this space!
Donât forget to reblog this post to spread the word!
and if you have any other questions, feel free to ask.
AN ~ a fic literally years in the posting (oops) has finally finished and bi!Fitz has finally cocooned through his journey and is ready to come out; and who better to hear it first than his long-time best friend, fellow queer, & potential partner, Jemma Simmons!
*note: I have left the endgame ship(s) of this fic deliberately ambiguous. I invite you to ship whoever you want; follow it through to its canon conclusion or keep FS platonic, I do not mind (hello, I love both options so much I couldnât finish the fic for literal years!), but thereâs been a lot of tagging/shipping discourse up in here lately and Iâm not here for it, so: this fic doesnât âbelongâ to any ship. It belongs to bi!Fitz, no matter who he ends up with <3
and now, without further ado:
Rshps: platonic (or pre-rshp) FS with mentions of romantic FitzSimmons, FitzMack, FitzHunter, FitzSkye, Skimmons, and Simmorse.
Rated: T for mild sexual references & innuendo. Fluff (with a few angsty moments, but I promise I make up for them :P)
for Anon prompt, and @meanderings0ul who I think might enjoy it, based on a recent prompt of theirs as well :)
bi!Fitz comes out to bi! (or pan) Jemma
Changing Stripes
âSo whatâs going on with you?â
âHow dâyou mean?â
Fitz looked over his shoulder, back at Jemma who was lying on the couch. She put a piece of popcorn into her mouth, shrugged, and repeated the question.
âYou know. I was away for months, Fitz. It must have been awful, but I donât expect you to have been thinking about me the entire time. You must have done something. Learnt something. Bought a shirt? Watched a movie? I donât know. Something.â
âYeah, nothing much,â Fitz replied with a shrug of his own. He reached for the bowl of popcorn, and Jemma slid it out of his reach with a firm glare.
âLeopold James Fitz,â she breathed. âFirst: I was stuck on a desert planet, mostly alone, and it was permanently night time. For six months. You donât even know what doing nothing is. And second: please get dramatic about something? I need the gossip.â
I need to know you didnât spend the entire six months thinking about nothing but me, was what she wanted to say, but their relationship still wasnât quite what it had once been; still wasnât quite sure exactly what it was. She had to be careful with it. But she also wanted to let her friend know â because thatâs what he still was, no matter what else happened â that she cared about him. She missed him. That, at least, he seemed to get, as he gestured for her to sit up and came to sit up beside her, rather than in front of her on the floor.
âSomething did happen, actually,â he confessed. There was a little sparkle in his eye, but a nervous energy to the way that he moved, the combination of which piqued Jemmaâs curiosity. Seeing the words on the tip of his tongue, she held out the popcorn bowl, and he downed a handful as one might drink a shot before revealing big news. He took a deep breath.
âI came out,â he declared. âWell â I guess I didnât, technically, come out âtil just now. Youâre the first person Iâve told. Joey knows, sort of, but-â
âAs what?â Jemma interrupted.
âHm?â
âCame out as what?â Her eyes glimmered with pride and excitement. She bit back her instinct to say I told you so, and grinned at him instead. âYou never said.â
âOh,â he said, and grinned, as the gears in his head stopped grinding; overthinking; qualifying. âIâm bi.â
Jemma squealed, jostling the popcorn dangerously close to falling out of the bowl.
âTell me everything!â she begged. âHow did you know? When did you know? Was it Mack? It was Mack wasnât it. Or was it Hunter⊠Heâs a little roguish, but heâs got that loner-with-a-heart-of-gold air working for him quite well, doesnât he? I can see you falling for that.â
Fitz waved her off. âIt was lots of things. Ever since the Academy. I just kept telling myself, it was nothing â you know, it was hormones or jealousy or whatever.â
âLife goals or wife goals,â Jemma added, nodding in understanding.
â- but every time I started to think about it, really think about it,â Fitz continued, âsomething would happen, and it would go away, or Iâd spook myself and hide it. Joey saw through all that, and he sort of- he got me to reflect on all this stuff, the crushes and everything, and I realised that actually⊠Iâve known about this for a long time. I just wasnât ready to accept it.â
Jemma nodded. Her own sexual awakening had come to her rather easily, but she knew a good number of people for whom it had not been so simple, or welcomed. Yet she couldnât help but spare a moment of solemnity for the messy timing of all this. She found herself wanting to ask, so what does this mean for us?, but of course she already knew. The answer was probably, nothing. Just because Fitz now recognised another side to his romantic and sexual nature, it didnât change his feelings for her, and it didnât change the mess they were in. And it didnât change the fact that he still trusted her enough to tell her first.
âHow do you feel about it now?â she asked instead.
âHonestly, good,â Fitz replied, then qualified - âMost of the time. I still doubt myself sometimes, or I think, what would Mack say if he caught me staring, you know? Would it change things between us?â
Seeing that he was starting to fret, Jemma put an arm around Fitzâs shoulder and pulled him close. These were waters she knew well.
âThatâs okay,â she promised. âThese are all very normal feelings, and you donât have to tell Mack â or anyone â if you donât want to. But heâs a good man and he wonât hate you for it. And, you know, have you ever considered that it could change things in a good way? If you feel like youâre hiding something or lying to him now, coming out might help that. Youâll feel more secure. And⊠you might even get a date out of it. I donât know Mackâs situation, of course, but if I were you I wouldnât let those guns pass me by without letting him know I was on the table.â
â⊠Thatâs a very sexual image.â
âYes it is.â Jemma bit her tongue. She was going to enjoy mocking Fitz relentlessly, he always got so flustered when it came to matters of the body, but she had to ease him into it first. âBut itâs not just a matter of that, is it? You said you liked the way Mack treats you, with respect, with forwardness, with kindness. You enjoy doing things together. Same taste in cars, same taste in movies; thatâs as good a place as any to start. It seems to me you two could build, if youâd pardon the pun, quite the life together â or at least show each other a good time.
âOr what about Hunter? Now, I know for a fact he likes people of the masculine persuasion. Heâs got a nice beard, very rugged, and donât think I havenât seen you checking out that ass. From what Iâve heard, heâs also a great softie, underneath all that swagger. You two would get along quite well, Iâd imagine. Although, the fights over football would be a problem. He barracks for a different team does he not?â
Fitz snorted, as if about to start on a rant at the very thought, but then something occurred to him and he smiled to himself. âWe play together too, though. Football, I mean. Heâs rather good at it.â
âSee?â Jemma nudged him. Fitz laughed.
âAlright, so are you going to set me up with every guy in this place or what?â
âWell, you donât have many options left as regards the women,â Jemma pointed out. âDaisyâs somewhat taken, apparently; May, while gorgeous, is too old for you; and Iâm sorry but Bobbi is just out of your league.â
âOh, but right in yours is she?â
âWhat?â Now it was Jemmaâs turn to blush.
âDonât âwhatâ me,â Fitz scoffed, smugly taking another handful of popcorn. âYou know full well what Iâm talking about. You started at her legs when she walked into the lab the first time for a full minute. A full minute Jemma-â
âWhat about you!â Jemma retorted. âI saw you lick your lips when Mack walked out the other day with that tank top and the grease stain on his collarbone-â
âYou started fake cursing like an old woman from the South the first time you saw Daisy without a top on-â
Verbal arguments failing her, Jemma shoved the bowl of popcorn at Fitz. He shoved it back, and she deflected it straight onto the floor, sending popcorn spilling out across the carpet. They paused for a moment in their bickering, and decided theyâd best clean it up, so they slithered onto the floor together and crawled around on their hands and knees, dropping popcorn piece by piece back into the bowl. The fight was not over yet though, with Jemma taking this distraction as a chance to have the final word. Â
âItâs not like you can talk, Mr âlet me show you my equipment,ââ she mumbled.
âWhat was that?â Fitz beckoned, and flicked a piece of popcorn at her. It bounced off her shoulder. âDid you have something youâd like to share with the class, Ms âwell formed and symmetricalâ?â
âUgh, Fitz!â Jemma groaned, and threw a handful of kernels at him.
âShove off!â he yelped, trying to shield himself against the rain. He reached for the bowl, half-full of their recovered popcorn, and flicked handful after handful in retaliation. Jemma gathered her reserves from what remained on the floor, and the two of them engaged in a highly undignified food-fight until there was nothing left but abandoned corn like fallen snow, and two very giggly super geniuses, catching their breath from laughter for the first time in years.