
Daisy Sure Has Creative Party Ideas
"No. No, no, no, please god no. Not again," Fitz whined, looking at the poster taped on the door of his room.
"What's wrong, Turbo?" Fitz jumped and turned to see Mack beside him, leaning against the wall by his door. For how tall the man was, he almost had Natasha Romanoff beat when it came to silent entrances.
"It's just, just - this," Fitz said, running one hand through his hair and flapping the other in the direction of the poster. "Last year, Daisy hosted a big Avengers themed Halloween party, and now this? I'm fine with the theme; I just ... I hope she doesn't expect me to compete."
The poster in question was advertising, in Daisy's somewhat messy handwriting, a 40s themed party, complete with a swing competition with a prize of $100 each for the pair with the best moves.
"Why wouldn't you want to compete? Swing dancing isn't that hard and I bet you'd be pretty good at it." Mack said after reading the paper.
"Well I've ..." Fitz's voice dropped low and he looked around the hall to make sure it was just him and Mack before continuing. "I've ... never d-danced in front of anyone before."
Mack's eyebrows shot up with surprise, which was odd, because why would he think Fitz could dance?
"Wait, so you've never danced in front of anyone? Not even Simmons?"
Fitz spluttered and blushed, looking at his feet before facing Mack again. "Especially not Simmons! I wasn't going to embarrass myself in front of her when I ..."
Loved her.
Fitz had come to terms with his past feelings for Jemma, and she and him had finally sat down and worked out their situation a few months before Jemma had ... disappeared. They'd been best friends again, the ultimate science duo, with the new exception of Mack.
Mack was a variable Fitz hadn't expected. He'd just shown up one day and when he had finally started talking to Fitz, they'd immediately become best friends, even quicker than when Fitz had made friends with Jemma. It scared Fitz how easily Mack had become a constant in his life. Even after Mack's betrayal, it had only taken a few months for their original friendship to come back, even stronger than before.
Mack nodded, a hint of sadness in his smile. "Well, if you need a partner, I could always do it," Mack casually suggested.
Now it was Fitz's turn to be surprised. "You know how to swing dance?" If he were to guess, Fitz would've gone more for hip hop or some form of break dancing; Mack's ginormous arms simply couldn't be that big just from working on cars, unless Mack also worked out often.
Great. Now all Fitz could think of was Mack lifting weights and glistening with sweat, which wasn't helpful in the slightest.
Mack rubbed the back of his neck, and Fitz could've sworn that he saw a hint of a blush on Mack's dark skin. "Yeah, um ... an old friend of mine taught me a few years back."
The way Mack said friend made Fitz pretty sure that Mack and whoever had taught him how to dance had been a bit more than friends, but Fitz didn't press.
Mack rubbed his neck again before looking Fitz in the eyes. "So, do you want me to teach you? If this poster's right, we have a month, which is more than enough time for you to get the basics down, as well as a few extra moves, if you're up for that."
Fitz sighed. If he did this, there was a high risk of Mack finding out about Fitz's feelings, but it also meant he could hold Mack's hands and stand close to Mack's warm body for a long time without seeming awkward.
Fitz gave it a few more seconds of thought before nodding and holding out his hand. "Fine. But you're going to have a lot of work ahead of you. I'm not the most co- ... em ... most coordinated person out there."
Mack smiled and nodded understandingly before shaking Fitz's hand. God, those hands are warm, Fitz thought. Warm and confident.
"Also, if we win this, will you promise not to get mad when I make fun of your height?" Mack questioned, tone light and teasing.
Fitz laughed and shook his head. "As long as I can make fun of your permanent state of Sasquatch-ness as well, then fine."
Mack's smile and accompanying laughter probably could've made Ward a little less evil. He shook Fitz's hand again so hard that Fitz was about to say something about his hands already being broken enough for a lifetime before Mack pulled him into a quick hug, patting him on the back. Fitz had to remind himself to breathe, which was hard to do when he was pressed against the glorious heat of Mack's firm body and all he could smell was the other man.
Mack pulled away after a few seconds, much to Fitz's annoyance (and relief), and placed a hand on Fitz's shoulder. "This is going to be great! You're going to have fun; believe me."
I always have fun when I’m with you, Fitz wanted to say, but luckily Mack's phone went off before Fitz could possibly make a fool of himself.
Mack took his phone of his pocket and frowned, sighing loudly. "Looks like one of the interns lit one of the new motorcycle prototypes on fire again. Sorry, but I gotta go deal with this,” Mack explained frustratedly. “How about you meet me in the lounge at, say, 8pm tomorrow night for our first practice session?”
"Sounds fine by me," Fitz said, "But I'll have to make sure I have Bobby cover for me again. By now, I think I've almost run out of favors from her." That was a sad thought. That meant he'd have to go back in the lab and deal with the idiot interns and scientists always bugging him.
At least I'll have one more night of free time with Mack, Fitz thought.
"Good. It's a date. See you tomorrow, Turbo!" Mack patted Fitz's arm once more before turning to leave. Fitz watched him go, eyes glued to Mack's torso, biting his lip as Mack's muscles moved under his flannel and trying to figure out exactly what Mack meant by date.
Fitz knew he needed this. Ever since Jemma had been swallowed up by the monolith, he'd been going crazy trying to find her. Now, it seemed improbable that he ever would. He needed a break, and this seemed like it would take his mind off of Jemma better than any way Fitz could think of himself.
But dear god, with the way Mack looked, Fitz knew he was in for a rough October.