That’s what they always said when Leo Fitz was growing up, when he skipped grades and moved to a different country and found his best friend and still had no sign of a soul mark. He thought it was silly, falling in love with Jemma when he was used to the same narrative all his life - just wait, be patient, your soulmate is out there. But he had no mark, and she made him happy, and there was nothing wrong with that while he waited, was there?
Things were going so good, after Hive, with Holden Radcliffe living nearby and doing consulting work for SHIELD. Fitz felt like his entire life was finally lining up and falling into place. He even got the time off to go home and visit his mother - and then he made a mistake. He’d mentioned the name of the scientist he spent most of his weekends with, and the truth was dropped on him only hours before he had to pull himself together and fly back to work.
Aida Radcliffe was just fine not having a soulmate. She could focus on her work, and help her father with his, and they’d probably find a cure faster, that way. Things only got sidetracked when she went to Spain for a week, just long enough to visit and get updates on her mother’s health, and the parent she’d left unattended got abducted by aliens.
It was only by some miracle that she even got him back, so of course she agreed to help clear their old home and move into the bigger, nicer house closer to the people who made that possible. And of course she agreed to meet one of the agents who helped the most. She wasn’t rude, even if her sense of humor could occasionally make it seem that way.
Everyone has a soulmate.
Maybe so, but that didn’t mean they’d been at all prepared for their marks to show up when they met their half-sibling for the first time. They just have to figure out how to navigate that while everything starts to fall apart around them again.
[ a moodboard for the @agentsofchallenges march madness mission, suggested by @docjemsimmons ]
👀 perhaps “i told you not to look!” and bioleophelia?
7. I told you not to look!
Maybe it was a little out of the ordinary to pay for the space so the boutique could stay closed to the public for the day, but it was a special occasion. Dipping into his inheritance was justifiable when it meant spending an afternoon spoiling his girls.
Leopold smiled politely and took the offered glass when the attendant came around with another round of champagne, only sipping at it. He'd already had two glasses, and while it wasn't strong, he didn't want to push his luck when they were in public and he was still in charge of getting them home. If they wanted to get tipsy and have fun shopping, he'd let them, but his plans for the day involved spoiling them, not indulging himself.
"Don't look!" Jemma's voice came from behind one of the curtains that led to a dressing room, and he didn't hesitate before dutifully closing his eyes. It wasn't the first time one of them had run over to get the other's opinion before showing off what they'd found to him, and he didn't see a reason to stop that habit. If they only wanted him to see the best of what they found, then he'd only look at the best - and then buy it for them, like the good, rich boyfriend he was.
The sound of laughter made him smile, keeping his eyes closed while he sipped at the wine again. It was the most peaceful afternoon he'd had in months, at least since the funeral, and that was all he wanted. Peace.
When the change in his expression made a few drops of champagne slide from the corner of his mouth down to his chin, Leopold pulled the glass away and opened his eyes on instinct. He only meant to do so long enough to wipe the mess away, but his timing was poor, and the curtain to the dressing room had only just slid open again to...
"Leopold!"
"I told you not to look!"
He felt heat flood his cheeks in the moments before he could shake himself into responding, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He thought he felt drops of his drink sliding down the side of his glass and onto his fingers, but he couldn't be sure, not without opening his eyes again. That was the last thing he wanted to do when they were already less than pleased with his first infraction. But, that didn't mean some part of him didn't want to look again.
The things they'd been picking out were predictable for them - Ophelia found a new jacket and heels, Jemma had picked out a couple sweaters and comfortable boots to replace the ones that were wearing down - and that's what he'd expected to see again. What he didn't expect was something out of character for both of them. Dresses. The colors were predictable, of course, an emerald green for Madame Hydra herself and his favorite scientist in gray and blue, but dresses were something saved for fundraisers and parties, not for afternoons in boutiques.
Then again, he did say he was willing to spoil them, and that meant buying them everything they wanted, even expensive sparkly dresses.
Hesitantly, he opened one eye to look over at them, not missing how neither of them had moved to go back into either dressing room. If anything, they were actually farther out in the lounge area, and they'd retrieved the fresh glasses of champagne for themselves. It only added to the appeal of their fancy clothes, showing off exactly how they would look at a party or fundraiser or public function. Or, just alone, back at the penthouse, where they had plenty of choices for drinks and his new record player and where he could pick out a tie that actually matched what they'd put on instead of the red one that he wore.
Leopold shook his head and set his own glass aside before sitting up straighter to look at them properly. He wasn't being scolded anymore, that was good, at least. And he could feel the emotion settling in his chest while a softer smile pulled the corners of his mouth upward - warmth, and love, and peace.
perhaps ‘i just want to go home’ from the prompt list + DoctorConductor if you would be so kind?
thank you for giving me a reason to actually write these boys. i’m so very sad because i know how this ends but also because oh my god leonard peabody made me cry not clickbait?
When his contract expired, Leopold never thought he'd see anyone from the Commission again.
That had been the deal, the rule, the terms of the agreement, so to speak. He gave ten years of his life, followed their orders, completed their missions, and now he was retired. He picked his anywhere, he picked his anywhen, and he had to learn to live with it. Which was rather hard when someone from that era of his life had turned up at his door, talking about one last mission, and begging him to return to the world of danger and death that they'd lived in together.
At first, before the discussion of missions and risking their lives, he'd actually been happy to see a familiar face. In the year since he'd been back, Leopold had been cleaning up the mess he'd left behind - he was juggling how to handle the ex he'd abandoned when he left in the first place, his father's frustration at him going missing for a few weeks, and the workload that he forgot about. It was supposed to be his retirement, running away was supposed to fix everything, but that was hard to accomplish when he was right back where he started.
But, as soon as none other than Leonard Peabody sauntered into his home and found a spot on the couch, relaxing and looking as if he belonged there, all of the stress from his day to day life completely disappeared. For the first time in far too long, it was just the two of them, and it was like no time had passed at all. His partner in crime was in front of him, the same smirk he always wore so familiar and real that it almost felt like an illusion.
"If I'd known you were rich, I would have come to visit sooner. Don't tell me, you have silk sheets, don't you? Fancy."
With a faint smile of his own, Leopold shook his head and poured himself a glass of scotch. Raising the bottle to offer some to his guest was a gesture, but an unnecessary one, and he knew it even before he asked the question. "Do you want any, or are you still avoiding alcohol like it'll kill you?"
"I'm still very sober, but thank you for offering, Mr. Manners." The teasing tone was something he was all too familiar with, one he heard plenty of over the decade they worked together. Between missions and the time they spent together between them, he'd grown all too familiar with every one of Leonard's tones, the good and the bad. "I'm surprised you haven't gone the same way. I assume, based on the year and the location you settled on, that father dearest is nearby?"
"You knew when I would choose before my contract was up. Yes, he lives in town, too, but not in this building, and not on this street. If you want private time with me, this is the best place to get it."
He shouldn't have said that. The private time together was what led to the discussion of one last mission, which led to an argument, which led to the bed with the silk sheets. They always did that. They yelled until their throats were sore, and then kissed and... made up. It was routine, even after all their time apart, and he didn't want to trade any of that for the world.
( it was later that night, when they were still in bed and tangled up in each other, that the topic of one last mission came up again. it wasn't a pleasant topic, and Leopold would have put a stop to it if he'd had the chance before more details of the arrangement were whispered into the dim quiet around them.
"I arranged a new contract, if you come back for this. for both of us. one more mission, and we're both done. we get to retire together. anywhere, anywhen. I'll leave the commission for good, too, and you won't have to deal with your dad anymore and we can have the life we talked about."
"Lenny..."
"don't. you don't have to make a decision right now. time travel, remember? I can stick around as long as you want me to, as long as it takes for me to convince you."
"you didn't want to leave. you didn't want to come when I offered you an out, and there didn't have to be one more mission. we could have our life right now, but you wanted to stay and work for them. I won't take you away from the place you've made your home."
"but they're not my home, Leo, they never were. you are. you're my home. I'm not dragging you back in to try to convince you to stay forever, I couldn't do that if I tried, but... what I'm getting from this new contract, it's worth so much more than just some retirement package."
taking a deep breath, Leopold slowly shook his head in the darkness, the light of the moon through the window barely enough to illuminate any part of his bed. but he could see the expression of the man next to him, the set of his jaw, his unkempt hair from how they'd spent their afternoon, the faint glimmer of something like pleading in his eyes.
"Leonard, I don't-"
"please...? all I want... I just want to go home..." )
hi hi hi it’s me again! i went on a prompt search and found ‘Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead’ and immediately thought tibbetchase because yes
something something modern AU where the boys can be happy and not *gestures to canon*
42. distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead
Trying to stay focused on the laptop perched on his knees, Chase frowned and bit his lip. He'd taken all of the pictures he needed almost a whole week and a half before, and the hard part of his job was done. All he had to do, now, was make sure the lighting wasn't horrible and pick which ones to send to his editor, who would fix things up and decide on the layout for the article. It was the same thing he did with every project, the same routine that was so easy to fall into.
Except, in this particular instance, his ability to focus on his work was directly competing with the humming from the other end of the couch. It wasn't a bad sound, just distracting, like everything else that had to do with the man who was making the noise.
For almost a year, James Tibbet had been staying at his apartment while he got his feet under him. Moving all the way across the country wasn't easy, after all, and it certainly wasn't cheap. Staying with a friend had been a logical choice, and Chase was the only friend he had who actually had a place of his own - he had a job, and an apartment, and a savings account, and all those things stable adults had, things that James himself had no hope of seeing any time soon. After ten months, he was still working his same restaurant job, waiting tables and coming home smelling like burnt coffee, and he was still crashing on his friend's couch.
Actually, it had been a while since he'd slept on the couch, and even longer since Chase had been just his friend, but that wasn't really the point.
With a sigh, Chase looked away from the screen and turned his head to address the tune coming from the other cushion. Blank Space was a good song, he knew that, and he agreed with that, but he’d been listening to a hummed variation of the chorus for the last ten minutes, and he would do anything for a skip button. He’d even take Shake It Off, at this point.
“James...”
When his boyfriend stopped humming, there was a glint of something in his eyes. Pride, maybe? That was there a good majority of the time. “Yeah, Mo’?”
“I’m working.” He lifted the laptop a few inches and gave it a small shake to provide a visual for his point. “Can you go hum somewhere for like... half an hour? I’ll come get you as soon as I’m done and we can order dinner from that Chinese place down the street. I just really have to finish this.”
For his part, James seemed to really consider the idea, letting out a low, thoughtful sound. And, for a moment, he was naïve enough to think he might actually get a little bit of time to focus. He should have known better.
“No.”
Chase let out a sigh, closing his eyes for a few moments. “Fine, but that just means it's going to take twice as long for me to finish this." He shook his head, turning his attention back to the screen to make another attempt at focus. It probably wouldn't last long, but he could at least try, and maybe some progress would be made.
It lasted all of two minutes before the cushions moved, and he was aware of the body suddenly closer to his. It was a familiar feeling, the warmth, and it wasn't entirely unfamiliar to feel breath on his skin and then a featherlight kiss to the side of his neck. It wasn't even unpleasant. In fact, it was a good feeling, one he wanted to feel again. But it was very distracting.
"Tibbet..." It was the name that only came out when he was trying to convey his frustration and annoyance, a near weekly occurrence, but far less frequent than pet names and adoring gazes.
"What are you going to do about it, pretty boy?" He didn't have to look over to know that James was smirking, not that it would have done anything. Lips brushed over his skin again almost teasingly, demanding his attention even while his gaze tried to fix on his computer.
“I’m trying to work...” But, of course, the next kiss was lower, pressed to the patch of skin over his fluttering pulse, and it took everything he had not to sigh and relax into the cushions. Unfortunately, he was enjoying himself, and that meant it was harder to focus on what he was supposed to be doing when his boyfriend was so close. In the time they'd known each other, getting to know each other's bodies wasn't uncommon, certainly not when they started sleeping in the same bed, and even before then they still shared a living space. Seeing each other damp and coming out of the shower wasn't abnormal and- damn his brain for coming up with those images just then. "This is due in two hours, and then I'll be able to entertain you."
There was a low hum, just below his ear, but mercifully, the kisses stopped. For now. "But work is hard, and boring, and I'm-"
"Hard and not boring?"
It was not the first time they'd had the same conversation, not even the first time that week. The difference was, Chase was determined to not give in, this time. He was so close to being done with the project, and then whatever teasing and tormenting went on next to him could be continued for as long as they liked. After this, he had a week off to lounge around the house whenever James was out, and to lounge around in bed whenever he was home - he just had to get to that freedom, first.
"You're smart, too, pretty boy."
"Yeah, well, someone has to be. You know this apartment that you really like living in? The next half hour is going to pay for this month's rent."
James groaned and kissed his neck again - just a peck, no longer teasing or distracting, just enough to remind him of what was waiting on the other side of his work.
( "I'm gonna go shower. I'll wait for you in the bedroom."
hello hello i am this close to falling asleep but! curious what you’d do with ‘fuelled by sleepless nights’ for a fic title 👀
look.......... for you, i’ll do something not fitzdaisy, for a little variety (💜)
Ever since the serum was pushed through his veins, Chase’s life has been very different. He was lucky enough to be reassigned with the rest of the unit from that mission in Ciel Blanc, but that doesn’t make anything easy - he still needs to manage his new urges, keep their new team members from getting suspicious, and then things going wrong leads to him being separated from almost everyone who would know how to help.
The only familiar face is the annoying and rude man from Brooklyn who only seems to hate him more with each passing day, the one he once wanted to consider a friend.
Tibbet isn’t afraid. He’s been through worse than a little frontline gunfire, he’s seen real action. He’s not afraid, but he is ashamed. He had the opportunity to kill the man who had killed one of the only friends he had, but he couldn’t make himself pull the trigger. Now, he has his friend back, but there’s still that nagging voice in the back of his mind - is that thing even still Morton Chase?
[ send me a fic title and i’ll tell you what i’d write ]
👀 hey there it’s me 👀 how do you feel about ‘I swear if they don't relax, they're going to snap in half’ for doctorconductor?
I feel........... emotions? this got sadder than I thought it would.
17. I swear if they don’t relax, they’re going to snap in half
Leopold didn't like hanging around headquarters between missions. It was mundane, and the structure reminded him of being back home - a set schedule to adhere to, a limited variety of food in the cafeteria, his own room... It was fine, in theory, but when he spent months at a time sharing a space with his partner, going back to sleeping in his own bed was overwhelming. The mattress was too big, and too cold, and his pillows weren't firm enough because he was used to falling asleep with his head on a warm chest that held a beating heart, not a pile of feathers. It was miserable, only seeing his closest friend at meal times when they had to be elsewhere the rest of the day.
Paperwork doesn't do itself, Doctor, was the single worst sentence he'd ever heard in his life. Maybe it didn't do itself, but they had plenty of people around whose job was paperwork, and it seemed ridiculous for him to spend hours at a desk reviewing facts that the people in the building already knew. Because he wasn't filling out paperwork, he was fact checking. He was making sure the record of their mission was accurate, and in the nine years he'd been working for the Commission, there hadn't been a single incorrect detail in all the pages he'd read.
Well, the reports never touched on the physical relationship that had started between himself and his partner, but it was probably best to keep that to themselves. His contract was up in less than a year, and if he wanted to savor the time they still had together, he didn't want to risk them being split up because they violated some obscure Commission policy.
Stepping away from the counter with his food, Leopold scanned the tables and sought out the familiar leather jacket he knew would be somewhere in the expansive room. There, far in the corner, his back to everyone else and at a table alone, was the only person in the entire organization he trusted. He probably shouldn't, knowing what he knew about Leonard Peabody, but they'd been working together for too long for him to still be wary, they'd grown too close in every possible way. They were partners, even if their bosses didn't know the full extent.
He felt the faint smile pull at the corners of his lips while he started walking, trying to keep his expression neutral and calm. There weren't many memories he had that involved feeling like this, like he was floating on air even when he knew their time together was limited. It was nice to have someone in his life who knew everything - about his father and his childhood and the things he did for a living before he was recruited - and wasn't running in the other direction or trying to change him. Even the very father who had made him into what he was didn't accept him like that.
Before he could get close enough to call out or do anything to get his friend's attention, Leopold felt a hand at his elbow and froze, quickly turning his head to see who had stopped him. The face wasn't unfamiliar, not when everyone in the Commission knew who Five Hargreeves was, but he mostly kept to himself. Five was like him, working on a temporary contract, clocking his hours and completing his missions and waiting to earn his retirement package, though how long that retirement would last with his climbing age, no one knew. The fact that he was willingly stopping anyone to talk was startling, and he wasn't sure if he was honored or frightened that he was the chosen audience for the old man's words.
"I'd be careful with him, today. Something's bothering the poor kid." Five shook his head, muttering again while he turned to walk away, barely loud enough to be heard with the chatter around them. "I swear, if he doesn't relax, he's going to snap in half."
He paused for a moment, taking in the somewhat distant sight of his best friend. Leonard's shoulders were tense, yes, but they almost always were. It came with the paranoia, the constant urge to look over his shoulder, the refusal to trust anyone who couldn't possibly understand.
( unfortunately, Leopold understood the need for that perfectly. they were the same in too many ways, cut from the same worn, damaged cloth, stained in the same places and frayed along the same corners. it had started with jokes about their similar first names, and then stories shared in the darkness of hotel rooms on missions, about cruel fathers who drank too hard and hit even harder. from there, it was inevitable that a bond would form, but how strong it was had taken them both by surprise )
He stopped long enough to take a deep breath before he continued walking, bracing himself for whatever foul mood waited. Leonard wasn’t always cranky, but the times he was were getting more frequent since the countdown to the end of their partnership hit the one year mark. Their time together was dwindling, and depending on how long their next few assignments took, it could be only one or two missions, and then...
Well, he didn’t like thinking about that.
Leopold didn’t let himself hesitate when he got closer to the table, sliding into a seat that would give them both a bit of space but wasn’t so far that he felt distant. He didn’t want to feel distant, not at all, he wanted to bring up the idea of both of them leaving, again, abandoning the Commission entirely and taking a retirement package together. But that hadn’t gone over well, the last time, and he didn’t want to spend what time they did have left fighting.
“You seem tense.”
“Paperwork is stupid.”
“Yeah.”
He risked a glance over, watching Leonard pick some of the dry chocolate chip cookie on his plate into little pieces. The quiet between them wasn't abnormal, not really, not when most of their nights in the field started quiet and they gravitated toward each other like twin suns. Even when they were actively working, they didn't talk much, because there wasn't much to say - there weren't any more stories that needed to be told, not when they already understood each other so deeply, more than anyone else ever could.
Taking a slow breath, Leopold shook his head and tried to focus on the sandwich in front of him, his voice calm and casual, as if he was fine. As if he couldn't feel the seconds slipping away between his fingers the longer they sat there and did nothing. "I don't like sitting around here, either. I'd rather have an assignment to keep me occupied, and there's not someone always watching us and making sure we keep ourselves in line. There's... freedom, in being out there."
"Freedom? We're being monitored almost every second, putting in the hours until we can go back to the hotel and get some real privacy, and then we're stuck within four walls unless we want our every move questioned." The emotion in the words made him turn his head, blue eyes meeting brown and trying to figure out what was hidden, there. He'd never heard Leonard talk about the Commission negatively, always a good employee, following his orders and doing his job without complaint. It had been that way since they met, almost a full decade of their lives ago.
"Yeah, well, Five doesn't stop me in the middle of the cafeteria to talk because he's concerned about your sour mood when we're out on assignments, so..."
The groan that he got in response did make him smile, just a bit, and the cookie was completely disregarded, reduced to barely more than crumbs. "Twelve year old me just died inside. Five Hargreeves knows I'm upset, now? Great... Just great..."
"I don't think he knows you're upset, he just-"
"No, Leopold, he knows." That flicker of hot emotion was back in his voice, and the smile that the Scotsman had started to wear dropped away quickly. He hadn't heard the tone from his partner in years, but he knew what it was without having to stop to think about it - hurt. Leonard's chair screeched across the linoleum underneath them when he pushed it back to stand up, the sound drawing the attention of people nearby and making the air around them still and quiet. Everyone within a few tables would hear exactly what was said. "He knows, the Handler knows, even Hazel and Cha Cha know. Everyone knows I'm upset, and they all know why. Everyone except for you."
And when he walked away, the thin crowd parted to let him through, and Leopold was left staring at the retreating leather jacket with an ache deep in his chest.
