WHO: Fitz and Kyrie WHEN: Saturday 5/18 WHERE: Home WARNINGS: Light mentions of death and dirty thoughts STATUS: Complete
That day had started out like any other day - the window in the kitchen had been left open, Kyrie had curled up on the couch and watched the rain fall. A book was browsed through, some small romance paperback that had seen better days she had procured from the library. The words had been absorbed but then she had grown bored of the daydream and set it aside.
The sound of padding feet in the kitchen earned her attention and Kyrie set the pillow in her lap aside, moving in a swift motion to stand. Distance from the living room to the kitchen itself was slight and before precious seconds would pass she arrived at the destination. Her friend was there where a cat had once been. She smiled at him.
“Hey,” came the usual greeting but his face a was a little brighter than usual. Thinking nothing of it Kyrie leaned back against one of the counters in the kitchen after sweeping up a nearby hand towel. The small rag was offered to help sop up any stray moisture from the rain.
Above them the apartment was pelted with fat droplets of rain, the roof, the siding, the windows. Outside it was humid but fortunately the apartment was balanced enough to keep the humidity at bay and the temperature even so as not to illicit chill.
“How was your run?”
“Damp.” He replied. “Moist even.” Fitz chuckled, thankfully his clothes weren’t wet, but his hair and skin was. Made for an interesting sensation. He set his backpack down and took the rag to wipe his face. “How has your morning been?”
It had been a couple days since he officially met Ben. The little make out session, he kept thinking about the other man, his warm skin, that smile, those curls. He couldn’t wait to go visit again. But he didn’t want to look needy or push too fast. He was so out of practice, and it wasn’t like he could even try to date the guy. And was it too soon to think about dating him? Was it too soon to give into the fantasy about stripping him down and… “Sorry, Key? What was that?”
Nearly giggling at the offering of words Kyrie bit back the laughter and nodded only. He looked spry which was a good thing. There was a brighter light in his eyes. She said nothing about it and when the towel was taken her hands went to the lip of the counter, gripping at it gently. “Oh, I was reading,” she mentioned. Earlier the guard she avoided strutted past the apartment and she had spent a good portion of the morning hiding. Only the last hour had she felt brave enough to go back to the couch and take up whatever book was laying around.
A tip of her head and her expression flattened a touch. She watched the way Fitz’s gaze shifted to the side as if he were thinking hard about something, she noticed the subtle twitch at the corner of his lip as his expression betrayed him. He was smiling. Not that he didn’t smile around her but this was different.
And then her eyebrows arched as the attention came back to her. Lips pulled into a tight smile, her eyes narrowed in a playful sense. “Are you okay? Did something happen since I last saw you? What have you done with my brother?” She teased, shaking her head at him.
A cascade of brown curls tumbled over her shoulder and she straightened her frame, moving from the counter.
He came up behind her and pulled her into a slightly damp hug. “It’s all golden, Key.” Fitz laughed, nuzzling her neck. “Well, I did kinda get nabbed up by my scruff by that asshole guard the other day. Didn’t feel too kindly about getting his shoes pissed on.” He snickered. “He was pretty miffed.”
And the a canadian Frenchman came to his rescue.
And now she was laughing, squirming trying to free herself from those strong, wet arms. She stilled at his admission and turned in his arms, looking up at him with a bit of fright marring her beauty. “Are you okay?” Those words were uttered soft, but firm, her eyes searched him with horror. That guard was the bane of her existence, he was the reason she never left their apartment. It hurt her heart to know that Fitz had been victimized by him, her arms lifted to wind around his neck in spite of the dampness of his hair. Up on her toes because of the difference of height she clung to him for a moment.
There was no way the guard could have known about their link, hers and Fitz, but it made her worry all the same.
She pulled back slowly, descending to her feet, taking his hands with a frown, “I’m sorry he grabbed you.”
He hugged her back and then brushed his hand over her cheek, those velvet fingers gently caressing her. “I’m fine.” Fitz assured her. “It was worth it. Sort of found a white knight who came to my rescue too.”
She leaned into that touch taking comfort from it but for didn’t change the guilt. It had been her who had brought the guard up in the first place - her who had caused Fitz to seek the man out and initially get into trouble. Her lip trembled but she made herself smile. “Really?”
Some good has come from it, but then the context of that statement was up for divulgence. “Tell me about him?”
“Yea. The Frenchman.” He replied, taking her hand and moving her to the couch. He pulled off his jacket and and shoes before he flopped down, sitting with her. Each faced the other, legs a tangle in the middle. “He’s not actually French- French. He’s French Canadian.” Fitz informed.
He knew he could trust her and did want to share, but also felt bad sharing his happiness when she didn’t have the same. “And he’s an animal telepath. Kinda got found out because animals don’t curse.” Fitz had been a bit embarrassed about that.
She moved with him, feet padding softly against the hardwood and carpet as he lead her. She found comfort in the cushions of the couch, legs curling beneath her as her attention went to him. “Oh,” Kyrie nodded. “That’s not a bad thing.” Being French Canadian versus being native to the country. “Did he teach you some words?” Her excitement grew.
The part about an animal telepath scared her but if Fitz wasn’t worried she tried her best to look past that. Biting her lips she tried to hold back a laugh, “Really?”
“He kept calling me… petit mon mingon…” He said, trying to remember. “I made sure to disable his camera’s…”
Fitz ran his hands through his hair. “He gave me some chilli…” He said. “And don’t worry, he was very understanding, will keep my secret. I’ve kinda run into him a few times and he knew I wasn’t ‘right’ and hadn’t reported me.” Otherwise he probably wouldn’t have outed himself.
Her demeanor brightened, “Aww, that is a good thing!” Both the nickname and the disable of cameras. “You must like him a lot. The French like nicknames for the people who mean a lot. I would feel honored.” mon Chou was a thing.
Chili sounded good. But she was a touch more assured at the secret being kept. “I’m happy for you!” Maybe this could be something more than she could give him. Maybe he could have something more permanent and real.
“Well, I don’t really know more than he’s hot… his name is Ben.” Fitz thought a moment. “He used to be a volcanologist, oh and does yoga. He’s a good kisser and teaches French at the facility. Oh and can cook- though I suppose the chili was a give away to that.” Fitz rambled happily.
Her cheeks grew warm for Fitz. “A good kisser, huh?” Her hand patted his, “I'm so happy for you. Even if it doesn’t turn out to be anything, you’re kissing. You’ve got something.”
Another opportunity to keep Fitz happy was cooking. She knew she wasn’t the best and welcomed a chance for someone else to help. Her rations weren’t meant for two.
She’d caught that. “Yea… it wasn’t really anything.” Or too early to be anything. Despite how desperate he felt. “But it was nice. You’d like him I think.” Fitz leaned his head on the couch. “Didn’t judge me for my lack of recent experience.” Though kissing was like riding a bike. “Now we just have to get you someone.” He smirked, nudging her leg with his foot.
Her cheeks reddened again but this time for herself. Fingers twisted in her own long hair, “I can’t, I don’t do that, nobody needs that,” she said, one after the other. Nobody needed her. But she was glad for Fitz and this Canadian volcano loving Frenchman. Maybe Fitz could have a good life.
“I would never judge you. I’m so happy for you. Really.” She was. She hoped that something more than just kissing came from it. She had never kissed anyone.
“You’re wrong.” Fitz said, moving to his knees on the couch before her as he held her hands. “As much as I will protect you and kick the ass of anyone who puts a hand on you without asking- you deserve love to. Or even just a casual fling.” He smirked. “You’re a beautiful young woman and I’m sure you want it.” He reaches out to give her side a gentle poke. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
He brushed his thumb over the back of her palm. “Tell me, anyone catch your interest?”
She sat back against the cushions looking down at the man on his knees. She gave her hands, curious. “Are you in love?” He said she deserved that too. Was this something he felt? She wanted to know how it felt.
Her gaze averted with stubbornness. “It’s not..I haven’t...looked…” she was boy watching out there with Fitz in her spare time.
And then her eyes found his again. She shook her head. “I don’t even know where to start.” The confession was hard but true.
He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Might be a little early to call it that. More like, I’m in lust.” Fitz smirked. It was true, one conversation did not love make. But he definitely wanted to explore more of the other man.
“Well, first, maybe saying hi?” He teased.
Her mouth twisted into a smile, “I’m not as charming as you,” she admitted though she was hopeful. With all of the people on the island it was expected she would hone in on someone. There was this one man she had seen with tattoos on his arms but she wasn’t sure.
“Whatever makes you happy,” she offered, switching gears. She hoped he wouldn’t be in love so soon but she would support him no matter what.
“I’ll try.” She promised to say hi to someone at least. Maybe to no one.
“Already offered to be your wing kitty. Great ice breaker, fetching a soft and snuggly kitty.” He leaned into her on ‘soft and snuggly’ nuzzling her playfully.
Fitz laid down half on her lap, looking up at her. “Second step is a date… maybe a movie, the theatre is a nice place. Or if you would rather get to know them, dinner at the diner or something. Maybe a picnic?”
That felt like too much. She didn’t know if she could bear through a date let alone meeting anyone new. She bit at her lip and made herself smile. If that’s what it took to make her brother happy she would go along with it.
“I know,” she murmured. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to approach anyone.
Her fingers moved through his hair as he rested in her lap and Kyrie sighed. She listened to the advice. Eyes strayed. “I don’t know.” What if that person didn’t like her in the first place?
“And you know, you don’t have to rush into anything. Or even date-date.” Fitz said, purring softly. “Just try to make friends first. Sometimes friends turn into more.” What they needed was a party or something. It had been a while. “Hang out to hang out, no expectations.”
Make friends first. The idea was frightening but she knew he was right, he knew more about this than she did. Kyrie nodded. She hoped she was convincing. “Friends first.” That meant meeting people, good out without a purpose. Maybe running into that guard.
“No expectations,” she confirmed. She was shaking. Shame was prominent in her expression.
“I’m a good wing!kitty for that too.” Fitz chuckled. He reached up and took her hand, kissing it gently. “You have to have other friends besides me. Maybe you can meet Ben. That’s a start. A friend who is just a friend. Get you comfortable with people?” The guy he’d really only known a day- not counting the three months he tried to avoid him. But still. Fitz had gotten good at reading people with all the observing he did. Ben seemed like a good guy. “Then, later… once you’re more comfortable… you can talk to this guy I know you’re thinking about.”
She smiled at him. That kiss to her hand was taken like a sibling and she nodded. “I’d like that, to meet Ben.” If he meant something to Fitz then he needed to mean something to her. She wanted to support him.
When she was more comfortable, sure. She didn’t think she would ever be comfortable but she nodded anyway, “Of course.” Kyrie doubted she would ever have the nerve to approach anyone but maybe. Maybe things weren’t as bad as she thought.
“So, let’s make believe.” He said, waving a hand above him as if setting a stage. “We’re not talking about anyone in particular, or anything that’s going to happen, okay?” He looked up at her for acknowledgement. “This is a no judgement zone.” Fitz assure her. “What is your perfect man? Or men? Like… let’s start the basics… taller than you? Hair color? Eye color? No preference? Chest hair?” He asked, chuckling at the last one.
Her eyes lifted up to look at his hand, watching it wave in the air. Gaze dropping, she met his and then bit at her lips in thought, eyes sliding sideways. For someone who wasn’t her perhaps this was an easier decision - she didn't necessity have preferences because she never had to tantalize that situation before. It was natural to look, but it was very rare that she found her mind wandering to the what-if's and maybe’s.
Kyrie nodded at him, finding his eyes again. “Taller,” she offered, “Hopefully not too tall. Muscular I guess, but if not that’s okay.” More thinking. She didn’t care so much for facial jewelry, that was certain, but she didn’t mind tattoos on arms or places you couldn’t always see them - not on the face, that was awful.
And then she laughed at the last question, eyebrows arching up, “What does chest hair have to do with anything?” Her smile was playful, thoughtful, “I don’t know the answers to the other questions - I suppose if a man was interested in me I would give him a chance depending on the situation regardless of looks.”
“What about you? No judgement, remember?”
“Hey, chest hair is very important. Some like a bear, some don’t. Some like either.” Fitz laughed. “That’s a really good way to look at the world. Be open to everyone.” He nodded. “You never know who you may fall for.”
He pretended to consider his type. “While I won’t restrict myself if someone doesn’t match these preferences, hell, if the right girl came along I might be inclined to see what’s there- but it would have to be an exceptionally special girl because while breasts are fantastic, they’re just not my thing.” He chuckled. “But, height doesn’t really matter, eyes should be captive. Able to pull you into them. They should have a nice smile, one that gives you butterflies just thinking about it. A good heart and funny.” He said a little dreamlike, he was clearly picturing someone. “Hair can’t be too short, got to have something to run your fingers through. A laugh that’s just a little too loud, but infectious. Strong arms that can always make you feel safe…”
Fitz cleared his throat and sat up quickly, a hand wiped at his face. Shit, he had started to tear up. “But yea… hot. They should be hot.” He covered poorly.
Kyrie nodded. She didn’t know what she liked in either gender so trying to pin something down for sure was overwhelming. Trying everything seemed like the only real way to know for sure what her preferences were and what she would like or find desirable.
She considered his words. Once in a while a nod would come to let him know she was listening, but her smile faded when his eyes began to water. Kyrie frowned, leaning over to wrap her arms around him.
Her own eyes started to well up. An exhale, she bit at her lip and pressed her lips against the side of Fitz’s face. “He loved you a lot, you know.”
Fitz leaned into her. “I never told him. I kept telling myself ‘after’. But..” He sighed, turning and curling into her slightly. One of the few times he needed her to be the strong one. “I miss him a lot sometimes.” He felt a little guilty being into this other guy when he remembered Ezra. “It sucks so much.”
After a moment he cleared his throat and sat back, wiping at his face again. “But, that’s not what we were talking about… We were talking about getting you some friends.” He said, with a forced smile. “So, I’ll see if my new friend wants to come over for dinner next week or something, yea?”
Fingers lifted, threading through the short, dark hair. She held onto him and would as long as he needed her to. While she didn’t know the weight of his plight she could understand the loss and the gravity. She missed Ezra too. “Me too, every single day.”
Letting him go when he pulled away Kyrie made herself smile at him, nodding, “Sure. Friends.” Part of her wanted to have friends, many of them, the rest of her was afraid to lose them.
You couldn’t lose what you didn’t have.
“That would be great!” She wanted to meet Fitz’s new friend - not just because of the impact he would have on both of their lives but she wanted to see for herself what this other person was about. She didn’t believe Ben was bad or deceitful, but Fitz’s secret was a large one.
He oft felt guilty over mourning Ezra. He’d lost a best friend, sure. But truth be told they hadn’t had a chance to move to anything more. She’d lost her brother. Family. Thankfully they could be there for each other. He’d been strong for her, she’d done the same for him. It was a back and forth.
“Good. I was planning on going by his place on Sunday. I’ll invite him then. Maybe for dinner on Tuesday? I can do up some honey vinaigrette chicken?” It sounded strange, but was really good. “Maybe you can get some lettuce or spinach and we can do a little salad too?”
She felt guilty too - it should have been her, not him. Ezra had been the older of them, the better, the favorite. Whatever happened to him should have come upon her, not him. But she did her best not to think about it, not to give up because Fitz needed her.
Her fingers lifted to swipe at her eyes, a small sniffle was emitted, and then she made herself stop. Crying only made it worse. She wouldn’t do it in front of him.
“Great, I can do that,” Kyrie replied. She was glad for Fitz, excited to meet his friend. It wasn’t like she had to clear her schedule or anything, work was there when she wanted it.
Fitz leaned up and kissed her forehead. “Okay… so, I was able to get…” He got up from the couch and moved over to his backpack. “Isn’t it Romantic. RomCom?” He smirked. “I’ll get it set up, you get some popcorn on?” He smirked.
Nodding, Kyrie watched with a bit of excitement the selection of movie Fitz was able to get his paws on. It was something she hadn’t yet seen which was not a bad thing at all. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we will love it.”
Slipping from the couch Kyrie headed to the kitchen to get started on the snack for the movie. Popcorn never took too long and it was easy enough to manage making though the first time she had ever tried to do it the microwave had turned black from smoke.
Fitz felt for Kyrie sometimes, having grown up in such a sheltered home. He’d done his best over the six years to help her become more self sufficient. She’d even taken on some tasks without his help- like laundry. Which Fitz appreciated.
He got the TV turned on and slipped the disk. Waiting for everything to boot up, he sat on the couch. “I’m gonna see if I can score some wine before Tuesday or something.” Alcohol was rare on the island, but some was smuggled in. If you knew the right person.
The beep of the microwave made her smile. Careful with the warm bag she plucked it from the vessel, opened it up, and upturned it into two bowls. The empty bag went into the trash can and the snack was carried back into the living room. She offered one to him first, set her own down, and then went back to the kitchen for water for the pair of them. When she finally got settled her bowl was scooped into her lap, legs folded beneath herself.
Drinking wasn’t something she did, even when she became of legal age. Not for any particular reason in her opinion, she just didn’t see the appeal in it. The first time she had alcohol was with Fitz and only because she trusted him. Nothing happened except for a bit of loopiness and a few giggles - that she can remember - and the next few years the indulgence was rare.
“Oh, that sounds lovely. I’m really looking forward to dinner.”