Dawn
By Izzy

Fitz couldn’t quite shake the feeling he was wasting time, lying here under the covers, his main focus being Jemma’s peaceful face as she slumbered against him. He’d craned his head just enough to see the clock, and it was about half past five, or maybe a little later; he wasn’t even sure anymore just how long he’d been awake.

Since they had become a couple, there had been that happy short period between when they’d kissed and when the Playground had started to shake, and after that, there’d been no wasting time on anything. As well as all the frantic attempting to stop Hive and save the world, there’d been talking about having sex in the moments they had for talking about it, and then there’d been actually doing it in a short stolen half hour, and they’d continued in that kind of vein even after Hive had been gone and the focus had changed to dealing with the fallout of those events and the Sokovia Accords. He and Jemma had planned out their schedule for this week while waiting for their latest attempt to cure the surviving Primitives to finish mixing in the test tube.

So now he was thinking about how they only had a week here in the Seychelles, and there was so much for them to see and do, and they were probably missing a beautiful sunrise right now. Of course he didn’t want to wake Jemma up, but he might be able to shift around and see it. Or he could easily reach his phone and do something useful with that. His mum would be very glad to hear from him. Or maybe he should just try to go back to sleep, because neither of them had gotten enough in recent months.

But the flight to Mahé and the ferry to Praslin the previous day had tired them out, and this was the most comfortable bed he’d ever been in, and the sound of the surf outside was so soothing, and also he could hear Jemma breathing, and it was so nice to see her sleeping so peacefully, especially when both of them were still having occasional nightmares, and he just didn’t want to move. He didn’t even want to think. He just wanted to lie there and do nothing, not even sleep, because then he’d be unconscious, and he wanted to be here, with her.

So that was what he did, just staying there and feeling so impossibly happy, until her breathing changed, and he watched her eyes blink open. “Morning,” he whispered.

“Is it that?” she whispered back. Her smile was so beautiful.

“Technically.” Still, he thought with a little regret, they were probably about to get up. Or have sex, even though it had been less than twelve hours since they’d last done so. Wasn’t that something else new couples were supposed to do on vacations, have as much sex as possible? “You want breakfast?”

“Oh, not yet,” she giggled, and snuggled even closer to him. “Can we just stay like this for a while?”

“Fine with me,” he said, and reminded himself they didn’t really need to be anywhere just yet. Today was to be spent in Praslin National Park, seeing the Vallée de Mai and as many birds as possible, and since they already knew where they’d be going for breakfast, having it shouldn’t take them that long. Unless they lingered over it, but he didn’t see any reason right now they’d do that. Sure, when they’d gotten room service the previous night, they’d lingered, and fed each other, but that had obviously been foreplay; even he had understood that from the start.

No, now he could just think about all the new ways their bodies were pressed against each other right now, not even in a sexual way; just the contact as contact was wonderful. Well, except it was different from the times they’d fallen asleep against each other and similar back before either of them had thought of being more than friends, because now it just meant more.

She tilted her head a little, and he happily tilted his to kiss her. Lights, sweet kisses, that made her giggle into his mouth. Not too long ago he would’ve gotten worried about what this was supposed to lead to, or if it was supposed to lead to anything, and getting it wrong and messing up, but he was finally getting the hang of things, and also Jemma had told him multiple times it was okay if he made mistakes; she knew he was inexperienced, especially at the more “coupley” things. Still she didn’t push him to keep this up for too long, knowing he’d still get anxious if she did. After a couple of minutes she gave his lips one last nip that he recognized as an ending gesture, and put her head on his chest with a whisper of, “So warm…” He didn’t know if she was talking about him, or the bed, or what, but so long as she liked things as they were right now he supposed it was all good.

“Don’t you wish every morning could be like this?” he whispered.

“Well,” she murmured back, “we’ll keep the important part for as many mornings as possible.” That brought Fitz such wonderful thoughts, of mornings to come, of days to come, of weeks and years and decades, if all went well. There was an argument that the morning sun should make him think of more than just the day to come, that he should take it as symbolizing the beginning he and Jemma were still in.

Definitely doing that, he decided. He closed his eyes as the rays of the sun crept onto their faces, and let himself revel in it.

Eventually she rose and looked at the clock, and said, “We really should get up. The Vallé de Mai awaits.” But even then she sounded a little regretful.