Author: crearealidad PM
Bones discovers the healing properties of Twinkies, Maker's Mark, and physical touch.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - S. Booth & T. Brennan - Chapters: 7 - Words: 16,849 - Reviews: 29 - Favs: 39 - Follows: 32 - Updated: 07-18-08 - Published: 06-01-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4294550
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
It's been a week since we had breakfast. He took me to IHOP and tried to get me to eat pancakes with cherries and syrup topped with whip cream, but I had one bite and opted for a bowl of fresh fruit and multi-grain pancakes with butter. Surprisingly, we spent the entire meal talking about breakfast. He told me about his mom making him unusually shaped pancakes before Sunday Mass, and I recalled my dad's "skillet potatoes." He sat next to me and I stole a cherry from his plate. In response, he'd spooned some of the sticky red topping onto my own pancakes with a chuckle.
It could have been any of the breakfasts we'd shared since we'd been working together in many ways. He touched me only in familiar ways: his shoulder and arm brushing me as we moved, his legs colliding with mine as he fidgeted, hands brushing when we passed condiments and then empty plates to the waitress. But still it was different. We didn't mention work, or the previous night's activities. And he couldn't seem to stop grinning, not even when I accidentally sloshed hot coffee on his hand. He'd simply sucked on the spot for a moment and cursed under his breath, the grin never leaving his lips.
It was entirely unnerving.
That grin made me want to ask him about that line he drew. About the door he was leaving open. It made me want to sit closer and touch his hair, his thigh and his lips all at the same time. But I knew to say something would stop it all. His eyes would go darken and that thing we were doing with the grinning and the fighting over who had the better pancakes would end. And that was the last thing I wanted.
By the time we got back to the hotel room, I was lost in thought. I considered him as he stretched out on the bed, resting his head on his hands, elbows sticking out. His grin was still firmly in place and it made me far more wary about my choice.
Glancing over at the other bed, I quickly dismissed the thought of lying down there, but that was quickly dismissed as I eased myself down on the mattress next to him on my stomach, sliding against the cool sheets that were still tinged with his scent. He lolled his head to the side to watch as I got comfortable, propping myself up on my elbows to meet his gaze.
"I think next time we go IHOP you're getting your own cherry pancakes, Bones."
"I only wanted a taste, you're the one who scooped the syrup onto my pancakes."
He extracted on hand from behind his head and brought it to my face, pushing my hair away as he replied, "Yeah, but you liked it." The words made his action far more than innocent and I felt the tingling race along my skin as it had the night before.
"That much sugar isn't good for you, Booth. One of these days it's all going to catch up with you and you're going wind up with high cholesterol and diabetes."
He chuckled but then fell silent, his eyes drifting shut. I wondered at my own level of comfort. His seeming acceptance of this idea of me being in his bed had my heart racing with uncertainty because this was far different from the night before. Then, I had been nearly high from the alcohol, sugar, and my own exhaustion. There hadn't been the capability to consider consequences or comfort levels because all the guards were down.
But sober and silent, it felt impossible to ignore.
I watched him as he dozed, all lean, relaxed and outstretched, he was clearly comfortable. Content even. When I'd laid down beside him, he hadn't changed that expression or shifted to accommodate me. He's just watched me, simply accepting.
Suddenly, his eyes open, catching my gaze. His smile spread wider, his lips parting slightly. "Come here, Bones," he whispered, extending an arm in invitation.
After a moment of hesitation, I gave in to him, scotching myself up until I was lying on my side, my head resting against his arm, settling carefully next to him so we were just barely touching, settling my arm on the small strip of mattress between us. I wanted to be closer, but I was nearly as confident as him.
"What do you say we watch some TV, Bones?"
"We could do that."
The arm not under my head reached out and pulled the remote off the bedside table and quickly snapped the TV on. The first discernable word on the program was about "gormogon" and my breath caught in my throat, but in an instant the program had changed and the sound effects of a children's cartoon. I lifted my head to see a cartoon rabbit watching a duck planting dynamite under a chair.
I was surprised when Booth turned down the volume slightly and dropped the remote to the floor. "We're going to watch cartoons?"
"Why not? Bugs Bunny is a classic, Bones."
Shaking my head, I laughed to myself and felt his arm curl around me, drawing me closer against his chest. I watched the bunny ask the duck what he was doing and the duck was about to respond when the dynamite blew up, sending the duck's bill spinning around his head and he became charred. Mirthlessly the duck glared at the bunny, as though certain he had caused this.
"That wouldn't really happen," I said.
"Not the point, Bones."
"Do you let Parker watch this stuff?"
His hand drifted up and down my arm then, his warmth suffusing me as his eyes remained glued to the screen. Shivers raced along my spin and I moved my head to rest against his chest, ignoring the ridiculous cartoon. I was being lulled back towards sleep, my body heavy and tingling. His free hand came to my hair, combing through it lightly, encouraging my relaxation.
I felt myself drifting away from consciousness when suddenly I realized that this could probably be construed as wanting more. That I was probably consenting to far more than I was intending.
"I still haven't decided you know."
My words startled both of us and his eyes snapped from the television to my face immediately. But he smiled, his fingers still entangled in my hair. "Look, remember what I said? I'm not going to push you into anything. If you need to, we can head back to work tomorrow and you can give it even more time. See how this feels once you're back in the real world. Until you tell me otherwise, I'm going to assume you're still exploring this."
"Is kissing acceptable?"
That made him chuckle. "Yes, Bones. I'm all yours until you say you don't want me."
"I don't want to own you."
"That's not—Look, I just mean that I'm letting you lead this for now. I would make love to you from now until it's time to go if that's what you want. Or we can just lie here and watch cartoons and have a lazy Sunday. Or anything in between. I'm just saying you're in charge."
At his words, my fingers curled in anticipation, remembering the words he had spoken once before that had nearly undone me. He had espoused his philosophy on love making across the diner table as plainly as if it had been a theory on a case, left me quivering with the possibility of his skin against mine, striving to break the laws of physics. I felt my mouth go dry and my arousal surge a new at the implication that he wanted to make those things that had crossed my mind at that moment a reality.
Unable to speak, I tried to lean once more against his chest, forcing myself to remain still when every inch of me wanted to press against him. For his part, he seemed to understand my reluctance to respond and simply allowed me my silence. His hand however drifted from my arm to my waist, teasing up and down until it had worked its way under my shirt, finding the sensitive skin there. I tried to suppress my laughter at the tickling sensations he was bringing to me.
He must have felt the ticklish rippling of the muscles there, because his fingers became more firm, closing down on my hip to hold it, his thumb rolling firm circles against the bone. A sigh escaped me as I felt my body unconsciously relax at his touch.
My hand that rested on his chest began to move, exploring the firm musculature of his chest, lingering against the angle of his ribs and firm line of his stomach. As my fingers dragged past his navel, urgent tension shot through him and I felt his fingers against me, tugging me closer.
I pushed myself upwards then, bringing myself over him, my chest on top of him. I pulled his hand away from me, pushing them down against the mattress. He watched my face intently, allowing my manipulation. When he didn't offer any resistance, I brought my leg over him until I was straddling him, careful not to put any weight on his growing erection.
"What are you doing, Bones?" He asked, his voice heavy and low.
"Exploring. Testing your promise."
I watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed roughly and brought my fingers to the spot. The skin moved easily over the hardened bump and I pressed lightly, memorizing the curve of it. My fingers tips found their way along his neck next, following the muscles that curved up to the back of his neck, then teased around the curve of his ear. His skin was rougher than my own, not nearly as pliable and soft, but the texture of it sent warmth racing up through my wrists. My touch found his cheekbones and his the bridge of his nose and then the softness of his lips, which parted invitingly, bringing a smile to my own.
I spread my fingers there, kissing his lips with the tips, dancing slow patterns along them, catching on the edges of his teeth. When a low sounds rumbled from his throat, I withdrew my fingers and replaced them with my lips, rolling through different angles, sucking at his lips until they felt hot and swollen against my own. My fingers found a new place to explore, pressing lines along his collarbone then down his biceps, arched and anticipating each new part they found. He was already squirming when my tongue met his and the moist contact sent a surge of tension through us both.
Drawing back for a breath, my mouth traced the places my fingers had explored on his neck, sucking hungrily at his adam's apple and groaning with delight as it vibrated beneath my tongue. My fingers busily dragged his shirt up and soon I had to sit up to let him drag it off. I pulled off my own shirt as he freed himself and came back to press our skin together. The contact began when my nipples found his skin, but I pressed closer, stretching my legs back until I was lying flush on top of him, legs entangled with his.
I tasted him again, this time seeking the angles of his chest. I started with his collar bone and moved down, laving attention on his pectoral muscles, the flat of his sternum and the jut of his ribs. My fingers were a few steps ahead, finding the waist of his slacks at my mouth found his lowest rib and held it in a slow kiss. They unbuttoned his pants as my tongue met his navel with probing slow lines that pressed into the firm muscle. Squirming, I managed to remove the barrier of our pants and underwear as my mouth maintained contact with his hip, his erection so close to my face I could nearly feel the searing heat of it. His hands were desperately grasping at the sheets beside him and I smiled at the evidence they provided.
My fingers were dragging up his thighs and my mouth was anticipating the taste of his cock when I heard his soft gasps and moans form into words, "Let me touch you, Bones."
Immediately my eyes were on his and he found his permission there. To my surprise, his hands pulled me up, bringing my bare body flush with his once more. He easily hauled me up to him, bringing out lips together in a slow kiss, his tongue immediately heading for the walls of my mouth. Spreading my legs, I felt his cock against my wet center, straining towards me. Lifting my hips slightly, I used one hand to guide him into me, eliciting a soft groan from his lips, the vibrations from it entering me through my mouth and chasing down to my center.
I lowered my hips, feeling him sink in deep, my urgency growing as his hips rocked up to meet my own. His hands were plying lines along my back, pressing into my hips and ass to bring me down further. With each stroke, I felt my excitement rising and I knew I would be toppling over the edge easily when the angle of his hips began crashing into my clit.
I heard my voice calling his name as my climax rocked through me, words formed without thought. He came moments later, crashing into me, his hands clutching me down into him. Our muscles sent rippling sensations back and forth as we held on, refusing to break contact as the surge slowly eased up.
Finally our bodies still, but we didn't move. He was still inside of me and I could feel every breath he took. Our breath mingled where our lips were moments from kissing and my hands found themselves entangled in his hair.
Eventually, he slipped out of me. Our bodies cooled as our hands explored, lazily perusing the lines of muscles and bones with sleepy fingers. Fingers lingered on scars with apologetic touches and our mouths clung to one another until sleep took over to still them.
When we finally rose from bed, the sun was setting. As we made the silent drive back to DC, he kept one hand in contact with me the entire time; holding my hand, draping an arm over my shoulders, or just resting on my thigh. He dropped me off at the Jeffersonian at my car with a quick kiss, then left me staring after his SUV.
A week of caseless work came and went. He stopped by each day with lunch, sandwiches he bought from a shop near his office in the J. Edgar Hoover Building. I was waiting for something to change, but it didn't. He would inhale his sandwich quickly then talk to me while I picked away at mine, never quite managing to finish more than a few bites as we sat on a bench in the gardens out in front of the Jeffersonian.
With each day, I missed the closeness increasingly. His visits were pleasant and friendly, but true to his word, he did not push. By Friday, I found my fingers itching to touch him as we ate, especially when I realized there was mustard on his lip. But I kept my hands to myself and he sat a reasonable distance away from me, his fingers only meeting his sandwich and the paper it was wrapped in.
It was the warmest day all week and I found myself even more tempted when we both stripped off our jackets and threw them over the back of the bench. He rolled up the sleeves on his dress shirt and I pulled my hair up with a clip to let the air hit my neck.
As he popped the last bit of the bread into his mouth, he turned to look at me with a grin. I hadn't touched my sandwich beyond a few bites and he asked "You gonna eat that, Bones?"
My eyes were glued to his finger, still sticky with sauce and dusted in bread crumbs. It had been nearly a week since those fingers were in my mouth. I thought that he heard my thoughts then because he dropped his hand to his napkin, smearing away the food.
"I'm not really hungry."
"Maybe you'd be hungry for some... dessert."
My eyes flashed up then, from his hands to his eyes and I laughed. He was looking at me as though considering the distance between us, his eyes flicking from my
face, then down at his lap and back. His hand drifted to the paper bag beside him and reached inside, withdrawing two twinkies.
"I thought maybe... You seemed to like them, so I thought... you might be able to eat one of these. You've hardly eaten anything all week."
"Didn't you forget the bourbon?" I asked, eyeing the cellophane wrapped treat.
"I didn't forget it, I just didn't think I'd need it. Now, open up, Bones..." I watched as he pinched the end of the wrapper with two fingers, popping it open easily.
Once he had the spongy cake in his hands, he split off a bite-sized piece with his fingers and extended it towards me. My eyes met his as he waited for me to take the bite, then flicked around to glance at the gardens and the facade of the Jeffersonian. He was asking the question here, at work, not in some hotel room in a town I hadn't even bothered to identify.
I brought my mouth closer to the twinkie, then stopped, bringing my eyes to his to say, "Yes, Booth."
His eyebrow furrowed and he looked from me to the twinkie. "Yes what, Bones? I didn't ask anything."
"Yes to this. I want to be in a relationship with you."
I watched as his mouth opened, slightly shocked, but then quickly closed as he pushed the twinkie closer until I opened my mouth and let him place it on my tongue. I drew the bite into my mouth, chewing it easily before swallowing. A ridiculous grin broke out on my lips and I watched one catch him too. For a long moment, we just stared at one another, our grins spreading outward, showing our teeth, not breaking our gaze until the sound of a car door slamming jolted us back to the present.
He chuckled and proffered the rest of the twinkie, letting me take it with my fingers. Accepting the treat, I brought it to my lips and took a big bite before bringing it to his lips, helping him shove the remaining part into his mouth.
"So it's agreed?" he said when he finally managed to swallow.
I nodded, sneaking my hand towards the other twinkie that was still resting on his thigh, quicky grabbing it before he could react. I expected him to grab for it and held it out away from him, but his hand instead came around the back of my neck and grabbed me into a kiss, the taste of the sugar still lingering on his lips.