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Kiss With a Fist

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"You're despicable,” Skye scoffs, turning her head so that she doesn't have to look at him while her cheeks consider blushing.

"You're the one who asked, Alien Hacker Princess,” Grant shrugs, taking slow, long strides towards her.

She recognizes this feeling, when he's holding himself back and just barely can't. The drifting gaze, the barely-there smile, the hands that leave his hips for a couple of seconds at a time because they can’t figure out somewhere else to go that wouldn’t involve grabbing her…

Not that grabbing her would be the worst idea he’d ever had.

Especially now that he was standing so goddamned close to her.

But then again, they’d been drifting, just barely, closer since he’d been reinstated and put back on Coulson’s team. He still wouldn’t put a hand on her, though.

"You do realize that I am actually handcuffed, right?” she smirks, now actually trying to egg him on.

Why was she trying to egg him on? Had she even forgiven him yet? She’d certainly not told him if she had, but she couldn’t remember if she’d ever made a decision. He’d been back and (relatively) sane for nearly a year, but she did still want him to sweat it. He’d broken her heart, for fuck’s sake. And as remorseful as he seemed for it…she wasn't just gonna leap into his arms, was she?

“Handcuffs could make things pretty complicated.”

He chuckles, and now, he’s close enough that she can feel his breath. One of his hands goes to rest on the door, above her head, but even as he leans his weight into it, he grows tentative. And, well, considering that the last time, a few months ago, that he’d come this close to her, she’d kicked him in the shin and told her never to touch him again, that makes total sense.

“Hey. I don’t bite. Hard,” she says tauntingly, and Ward’s laugh is closer to a scoff.

“No, Skye, you bite very, very hard,” he asserts, pushing himself back from her, fully onto his feet, and points a finger at her.

“So? You like it!” Skye argues smugly. She sees Grant think to challenge her, but ultimately he only bites his lip and shakes his finger once as though to make a point, and says nothing. Not that there was anything he could say. He totally liked it.

And she knows she’s right, since even though the light in the walk-in-closet-sized room they’ve wandered into is pretty dim, he’s still close enough to her for her to be able to tell that he’s started to blush.

New-And-Totally-Not-HYDRA-Grant-Ward got embarrassed so easily. It was honestly pretty adorable.

What is pretty fucking far from adorable are the angry German words being thrown about the hallway right outside the door, and the heavy steps of combat boots rushing their wearers wherever they were headed.

Damn HYDRA’s love for rooms without windows.

“We’re gonna be fine, Skye, you know that, right?” he says, though his voice certainly doesn’t hold much reassurance. He was the one whose loyalties would be questioned if they were found - well, by anyone other than SHIELD. The walls covered in weapons - maybe it qualified as a walk-in closet after all - definitely made that seem like a possibility.

“Not exactly a rookie here, Ward,” she bluntly states. "And you're the one with a debt to pay and loyalty to prove."

“Hey, I’ve already been -“

“Taken back by SHIELD, de-brainwashed, yeah, I know. I’m not talking about SHIELD.”

"Right," he says sharply, and it's almost a sigh. He starts to move away from her again, back towards the middle of the room.

Well, that didn’t work.

“Hey!” she huffs, and he swivels back around with an about-face. “I have an idea.”

“To get us out or…”


He raises his eyebrows, visibly trying to keep his expression serious, even as Skye’s grows more teasing.

“We used to bet on things, remember?”

And the tin man is stoic no longer.

“I got a bet for you.”

“Okay,” he grins curiously, and her lips settle easily into a smile.

“We’re offline, don’t know where our team is, you’re pretending to still be HYDRA and I’m in handcuffs, we’ve messed up our mission, and we don’t know how long we’re gonna be trapped in here before somebody realizes we’re here at all, not to mention that those people will probably be HYDRA…”

Whether he actually knows where she’s going with this or not, he’s somewhere on the same wavelength as she is - his widening grin and eager eyes and absentminded steps towards her hide nothing - and she hopes he’s actually up for following through on this.

“Those are all pretty shitty circumstances, but we can’t really change them. In the meantime, I propose that we make our immediate circumstances more favorable.”

“Oh? And how exactly do you propose we do that?”

“Kiss me.”


“I dare you to kiss me.”

Grant chuckles nervously, glancing at the floor.

“Right, because you didn’t nearly kill me the last time.”

“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, this isn’t exactly last time.”

He still looks skeptical. Probably expects she’s gonna pull it out from under him, shove him away again or worse.

Skye can’t really say she blames him.

“Oh, what? Tin Man can’t slow his heart rate down enough to kiss a girl?”

“Can you not call me that?”

“I could try, but I’d have less fun.”

“So this is about you getting your kicks, then?”

“Well, I am in handcuffs, aren’t I?”

She raises her hands above her head, miming a stretch of boredom; she smirks at him until she’s pushed her arms as high as they can go, but she closes her eyes momentarily as she rolls her shoulders back, deciding that she may as well actually stretch while she’s at it.

But naturally, the moment her body language poses little challenge, he goes for it. He’s already standing close to her again, but the top of his chest just slightly presses into hers when he tips forward just a bit more and freaking does it, kisses her, gently but with unspeakable want behind it that kind of makes her shiver as she’s pushing back in turn.

And holy shit, he actually did it. They actually - they were actually kissing.

It doesn’t start out fervent at all, just gentle, slow, tentative kisses, until Skye decides she’s had enough - as sweet as it is, she wants more, she needs more - and ups the ante; and some of the want they’ve both kept inside this past year and longer starts to seep through.

She drops her arms down around Grant’s neck, and his hands, having come to rest at her hips, slither to the small of her back.

And God, she can feel that he wants even more just as much as she does. She pulls away from the kiss, keeping her mouth next his ear since it’s so much easier to just pull herself up towards him by pressing her forearms against his shoulders than trying to maneuver even more in an attempt to talk face to face.

“Got another bet for you.”

“This wasn’t actually a bet, Skye. There was no betting involved.”

“Okay, smartass: now, I’ve got a bet for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Better be.”

“Don’t really have a choice.”

A gentle - she swears - kick to his shin, and he shuts up.

“If you…manage to make me cum before someone finds us,” she whispers, and though she pauses, and he tenses against her, he still gives no verbal reply. “Then I’ll let you buy me lunch.”

“Really? That the best you got?” he protests almost immediately - his silence was while it lasted, in a way.

“What, don’t think you can manage that?”

“At least make it dinner.”

“The tentative plan will be to get the lobster, you know.”