"But we don't even know what he likes yet," Fitz says.
"We'll just have to find out then, won't we?" Jemma replies. The Bus is, for once, stationary, a respite between missions, which means that she and Fitz are bored out of their fucking minds. The rest of the team has not yet discovered how dangerous a state this is, but the way things are going, it won't take long.
"That could take ages," he tells her. "There are so many variables. We don't even know if he likes men or women."
"Well, luckily we have a man and a woman here who are known for taking chances," she says.
"That's all well and good," he says, "but what if he's." He pauses. "Vanilla."
She laughs. "It's not a curse word."
"It might as well be," he tells her. "It's definitely a curse. I'm just glad we're not afflicted."
"You're so closed-minded about being open-minded," she tells him. "Besides, have you seen him? There's no way in hell."
"Here's what we're going to do," she says, cutting him off. "One of us is going to go up to him and proposition him."
"I don't see how that's going to help us learn anything of any real weight," he says. "He could reject either one of us based on half a dozen variables."
"Yes, but it might get one of us laid," she says.
He considers this for a moment. "Flip a coin?" he says.
"You know very well we can't flip a coin," she says, disgusted.
"Random.org?" he offers.
"Random.org," she agrees. "You'll be even, I'll be odd."
Fitz kisses her cheek. "You're always odd, love."
"Very funny," she says, pulling up the website. "On three. One, two-"
"Well, that settles it," Fitz says.
"Which one of you won?" Coulson says from behind them, and Jemma jumps a foot in the air, whirling around to face him.
She points at Fitz. "He did," she says quickly.
"Come with me," he tells Fitz. When Jemma doesn't move, happy for the moment to sell Fitz out, he adds, "You, too."
"Sir, we didn't-" Jemma starts, nervous.
Coulson raises an eyebrow. "You really think I can't handle you both at once?"
"Oh," Fitz says, startled.
Coulson walks out, and Jemma doesn't know anything to do but follow him.
Soon enough, they're in Coulson's quarters, the real ones he has on the ground, in Coulson's bedroom. "Get undressed," Coulson tells Fitz, shutting the door behind them. He looks at Jemma, nodding his head to the chair on the other side of the room. "Sit over there."
She sits down, watching as Fitz pulls his jumper over his head, folding it and putting it on the dresser before he undoes his tie and unbuttons his shirt. He's as neat and particular as he always is, if a little more hasty than usual. Coulson's not touching him, just watching impassively as he does it. Fitz strips all the way down, and Jemma can see the way he wants to hide a little, even though he's hard and eager. She already knew he got off on that, a twinge of embarrassment, the sense of having nowhere to hide.
Coulson turns to her suddenly. "Do not touch yourself," he says. "You lost, you pay the price. You're going to pay a worse one if you don't do what I tell you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," she says meekly, and she already wants to squirm.
"Condoms and lube in the dresser. Get them and get on the bed," Coulson tells Fitz, unknotting his own tie and pulling it off, and Fitz scrambles to obey. Coulson takes off his shoes and his suit jacket, but that's all he does. Fitz is kneeling on the bed, looking desperately turned on and a little terrified, and Coulson still doesn't touch him as he climbs into the bed.
"Hands and knees," Coulson says, and Fitz does it. The way he's positioned, he's looking straight at Jemma. He gives her a 'what the hell have I gotten myself into' face, but she just smiles back at him. Fitz frowns when Coulson puts the lube down next to his hand. "Get yourself ready," he says, and Fitz rolls his eyes upward for a moment and sighs, which Jemma knows by this point is him trying to get his shit together.
He picks up the lubricant, pouring some onto his fingers with shaky hands. He tries to sit back up, but Coulson puts a hand on his back, leaving him no choice but to go down on one shoulder, reaching back to open himself up. Jemma can't see the good part- or maybe she can, because she can see the look on his face, the way his mouth drops open as his fingers first push inside. She can see the muscles in his arm work as he spreads himself open, fucking himself as deep as he can.
Coulson is still not touching him anywhere else, not even after all this. His erection is distending the front of his trousers, but otherwise it's like he's watching the television or something, like there's not a gorgeous boy losing control in front of him. Fitz puts his forehead down on the bed, and Jemma can just see where the sweat is starting to form on his skin, threatening to drip down onto the sheets.
"Stop," Coulson says, and Fitz makes a distressed noise, taking his fingers out and putting his hand back on the bed. Now Coulson's unzipping his trousers; he doesn't even bother to push them down, just pulls his cock out and rolls a condom on. He picks up the lube, slicking up his cock. "Hold still," he warns Fitz, holding onto his hip to keep Fitz steady while he pushes inside. Fitz cries out, tossing his head back as Coulson pushes slowly into him.
Jemma curls her fingers around the edges of the chair. She's going to be very good and not interrupt, despite the fact that that's the thing she'd like to do the very most. She's still got the best seat in the house, though, the right angle to see how Fitz's body shakes as Coulson fucks him, the lost look on his face and the determined look on Coulson's.
Then all of a sudden, Coulson grabs him by the waist, hoisting him up into his lap, Fitz's knees spread out to bracket Coulson's. Fitz yelps, a noise that makes Jemma giggle despite herself. Coulson wraps his hand around Fitz's throat, holding him as he starts to thrust up into him. Fitz melts into it, letting his head rest on Coulson's shoulder as Coulson fucks him.
"Tell her about it," Coulson says into his ear, looking over at Jemma, and Jemma's stomach drops.
Fitz bites his lip hard. "I- I don't know what you want me to say."
"Tell her how good it feels," Coulson says, giving a hard thrust that makes Fitz cry out. "Tell how much you love it when I have my cock in you. If you do a good enough job, I'm going to let you play with her, so make it count."
"Oh god," Fitz breathes. "Oh my god, Jem, you have no idea. It's so good, so good, I can't handle it, I'm going to die before I come." Coulson thrusts into him hard again, hard enough that his body jolts. "I hope he fucks you so you can feel it, because he's got his cock in me so deep, I can't deal with it, please-"
Jemma doesn't know who that last is for, her or Coulson, because Coulson's moving faster now, fucking him harder. He slaps Fitz's hip. "Shut up and ride me."
Fitz bites back a desperate cry as he starts to move, taking Coulson's cock deep on every stroke. He's really sweating now, beads of it rolling down his neck, over his chest. He's so very hard, his cock wet at the tip, and Jemma squeezes her thighs together, clutching the edges of the chair harder to stop her hands from moving.
Just when Jemma thinks that Fitz has had enough, that he's going to start begging for mercy, Coulson slows down, putting his hands on Fitz's hips to keep him from moving. "That's enough of that," Coulson says. He pushes Fitz away from him, not unkindly, stripping off the condom and putting it in the wastebasket. Jemma frowns; he hasn't come, which is where she thought that whole production number was leading.
"Come here," he tells her, and Jemma hops up, hurrying over. She stands by the bed, unsure what to do, what her place in all this is. Coulson looks at Fitz, who's looking generally like the horniest man on Earth. "There's your reward," he says, cocking his head at Jemma. "Go get her."
Jemma's never been a reward before, and she doesn't really know what it entails; she only wonders for a second, because then Fitz pounces on her, tossing her down into the bed and climbing on top of her.
"Hullo," Fitz says, kissing her neck as he hastily unbuttons her shirt.
"Hello yourself," she says, laughing. He tugs down the front of her bra, stretching the material all to hell; she's more than willing to make the sacrifice, because it means he can mouth at her nipples, biting them lightly in that way he knows she likes. His hand steals up her skirt, and she gasps as he shoves her sodden panties aside, pushing his fingers inside of her.
"You really liked that," he accuses, his mouth against her skin.
"Who wouldn't?" she says, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. He moves his fingers in and out of her quickly, intent on driving her as crazy as he is, and if he keeps it up, she's going to be all that and more.
"Fuck her," Coulson says, passing Fitz a condom.
"Thank you, sir," she and Fitz say in unison; Coulson just shakes his head. Fitz pushes her legs up, rucking up her skirt and pulling off her panties, tossing them somewhere behind him in an uncharacteristic moment of wildness. He has the condom on in a second, then he puts her knees over his shoulders, pushing into her hard.
"Oh, like that," she says. "Come on, Fitz, just like that."
"You want it hard?" he asks, grinning, moving his hips slowly just to tease her.
"Don't make her repeat herself," Coulson says, amusement in his voice. He takes her breast into his hand, the first time he's actually touched her, toying with her nipple as Fitz starts to thrust into her, fucking her with abandon. She just sinks into the mattress and lets it happen, because it's heavenly, decadent, perfect. She's been waiting for so long, and nothing in the world could feel as good as Fitz's cock inside her right now.
Fitz spreads her legs wider, until she doesn't think she could take him any deeper, any harder than this. Coulson bends down and bites her neck, sucking a mark there that's going to be readily visible to anyone who cares to look- but who's she got to impress except the man who's doing the marking?
"God, I'm close," Fitz says, more of a whine than anything else. "Please, sir, let me-"
Coulson moves, the bed dipping underneath Jemma as he kneels beside her head. He has his cock in his hand, stroking it quickly. "You lost," he reminds her. "Open your mouth."
She does it, sticking her tongue out for good measure, because it doesn't feel like she lost, not at all. Coulson looks down at her like he can't tell if she's hot or deranged; Jemma has seen that look more than once.
"When I do," Coulson says tightly, and Fitz moans, pushing into her harder. Jemma shuts her eyes, tilting her face up as the first pulses hit her face. She can feel it as Fitz starts to come, the way his cock moves in her, the way his fingers clench on her thighs, and something about it sets her off, breaks her apart. She comes hard, her back arching, feeling debauched and sated and slutty, in a very attractive way.
She just lays there, content to not move, other than to grab the corner of the blanket and wipe the come off her face- the sheets are definitely ruined anyway. Fitz pulls out of her, throwing away the condom and flopping down next to her; she puts her arm out on reflex, drawing him close. She blinks up at Coulson, wondering what he's going to do. He's an unknown; she and Fitz, that's simple, decided long ago, but Coulson might do anything at all.
In the end, though, he lays down on Fitz's other side. He puts his hand on Fitz's stomach, but he makes no attempt to pull him away from Jemma.
"Fuck, that was good," Fitz sighs.
"I think you got the best of it," Jemma says, "not that I'm complaining at all."
"He did win," Coulson points out. "If you want to win next time, use something you can rig."
"But where's the fun in that?" Fitz says, shutting his eyes as Jemma idly runs her fingers through his hair.
"You can say that because you won," Jemma points out.
"Let's not get caught up in who won and who lost," Fitz says, waving a hand, and Jemma snorts. "The important thing is how you play the game."
"Can't argue with that," Coulson says.
"You probably can," Jemma says, yawning. "But I don't feel like it."
"I feel like a nap," Fitz says, though he pauses afterwards, and Jemma knows he knows he might have just overstepped a boundary.
"Sounds like a plan to me," Coulson says, and Jemma relaxes.
Despite what you may have heard, she's pretty sure everybody wins.