@superspyxward || [ x ]
The mission had lasted days longer than it was supposed to. Fitz was supposed to lead a small team to gather information, there was to be no combat, and they were supposed to be laying low through all of it, but the people they’d been keeping an eye on were smart. They’d made a run for it on the second to last day, likely because they expected an ambush when the team’s cover was blown. It was almost the exact opposite of what they’d agreed to do -- almost a whole week was spent chasing them down, and then there was a stand off when they finally did. Two agents were getting scrapes and bruises patched up in the medical wing, and the people they’d been trying to watch were dead. To top it all off, they didn’t even get the information they’d set out to get.
He made his way down the hall slower than he knew he should have, mentally preparing himself for the fact that his debrief wouldn’t consist of any information that could actually help them. Part of him was afraid of the reaction he’d get, especially when so much of his time away had been spent in danger, and had ended with two guns trained on him until those holding them had been shot down themselves. The other half of him didn’t feel anything, completely numb to everything except for the want to shower and sleep.
When he opened the office door, Fitz didn’t expect much of a greeting. Maybe a scolding for taking so long and still coming up with nothing, maybe a moment to give an explanation and then a quick dismissal. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind the latter, not if it meant he could go upstairs and rest for the rest of the afternoon. So, when the door closed again behind him almost as quickly as he’d opened it, and he was suddenly enclosed in very familiar and safe feeling of warmth, his first instinct was to be frozen with surprise. Between the momentary surprise and the fact that he couldn’t think beyond the feeling of being mostly unable to move, it was a miracle that he’d heard the question at all, not that it mattered after only a few moments.
The distraction that came from the kiss emptied his mind entirely, all worries about his failure on one of the first missions he led himself were gone, along with all of the tension that came from the stress of the mission itself. It was more of a relief than he’d felt in far too long, and if he had the option, he would have never let it stop, desperate to keep up the contact if only to keep hold on the weightless feeling that made everything else completely disappear. The fact that he could move at all seemed almost impossible with how many different things he was trying to focus on -- lips and teeth and arms and chest -- but his hands managed to find their way up to broad shoulders, keeping the already almost nonexistent space between them at an absolute minimum.
