Hello! omg excitement for tomorrow. I CANNOT STAND THE WAIT
Anyway, SSJL has been a lovely pest in trying to get me to finish this piece, so this one's for her.
Thank you lizook, SSJL, tkmoonnumbers, spacekidnumbers and cathmarchr for being lovely. And to my pulsepoint; I throw my hat and panties in your general direction. And as always, my jandco.
The fascination with the Prince
Dr. Temperance Brennan was a woman of science and was therefore constantly curious. Being an anthropologist, she was always interested in the various trends in human culture, the things people did that were outside of the norm to rebel, to be different.
So it was a rather astounding find to discover the certain thing that her partner had done to himself, a private act of rebellion. She found herself thinking about it. Constantly.
Angela was to blame, of course. "Come over to my place for drinks," she said. "Let's hang out and not discuss the grotesque things we do at work," she said. "Let's be normal," she said.
What Booth did was certainly not normal. But… fascinating.
They had all gathered in the artist's apartment with the promise of margaritas and board games. Being in between cases, Brennan felt like it was a much-needed frivolity; she understood that "blowing off steam" was important in their line of work, so she arrived with a bag of limes and an amusing-looking game she had found at the drugstore called "Jenga". Angela had squealed at that one, insisting they make it into a drinking game in which the loser had to take shots of tequila.
Hodgins lost on purpose. Booth lost three times, not on purpose, his scowl at each topple of the tower delighting everyone in the room.
It was all very amusing. Cam was tending to the blender and Angela had started to pass out little cups full of Jell-o that turned out to also be filled with vodka.
Quite honestly, Brennan could not figure out the exact moment in which she had gotten "sloshed", but as she attempted standing in order to use the restroom, she found herself falling into the couch, Booth automatically reaching out to catch her before she toppled onto him.
"You all right, there, Bones?" he grinned into her face, and she found herself lingering just a moment too long, smiling just a little too broadly. She carefully made her way to the bathroom and on her way back, raucous laughter made her regret that she had been away. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so relaxed or had such a good time.
"No. Cam, no. Seriously? I just… no freaking way." Angela was at the counter in her kitchen, conspiring with the pathologist. Brennan's brow furrowed, torn between wanting to know what the two women were discussing and wanting to plop herself between Booth and Sweets on the couch. Curiosity won out and she carefully made her way to the kitchen, leaning onto the counter with her elbows and putting her chin in her hands.
"What's no? Is there any more alcoholic gelatin? I like the red one," Brennan asked, hoping they would volunteer whatever it was they were speaking of.
"Here," Ange said, handing her a fresh margarita and a red Jell-o cup. "'No' is the sound of my disbelief, Bren. It would appear that our boss has been holding out on us."
"Angela," Cam said, warning implicit in her tone. Brennan looked up to survey her face, but she saw that Dr. Saroyan was grinning, licking the top of her hand and shaking salt on it. "You are taking advantage of a drunken woman, and I will remember this in the morning." She stuck a lime wedge in her mouth, licked her hand again, and then tossed back a shot of what appeared to be tequila. Brennan winced; she did not enjoy her alcohol straight-up in that fashion. She sipped her margarita and glanced at the couch, noticing the guys having their own private conversation.
"Hey, not my fault you're indiscreet. I feel like I need to investigate this further. Hey, Booth!" Angela called out, hands on hips and smiling broadly. Booth looked up and a slow grin appeared on his face; Brennan could see from the angle of his smile and his slightly dilated pupils that he was most definitely inebriated; her curiosity about whatever it was that Ange and Cam were speaking of shot up. He'd be more likely to answer candidly when intoxicated.
"I just heard a rumor about you that I need visual confirmation of," Angela said mysteriously, ignoring Cam's furious slap on her arm. Cam was laughing, and Brennan noted that while the doctor was unwilling for their little secret, whatever it was, to come to light, that she wasn't exactly stopping Angela from being pushy. With increasing interest, Brennan turned around, waiting to see what Booth would say.
"How's that now?" he asked, tipping his head back as he consumed more gelatinous alcohol. His tongue searched the little paper cup, looking for every last drop, and Brennan didn't bother moving her gaze from that little movement. She watched him lick his lip, watched the corner of his mouth turn up into a lazy smile. A few moments must have passed because a loud bark of laughter interrupted her perusal, and she turned to see Angela squealing as Cam half-heartedly slapped her arm some more.
"Stop! Stop. Secret. I told you, seeeecret," Cam said, her voice loud and full of laughter.
Brennan was starting to get annoyed. With a frown, she lifted her hand and waved, saying, "Just say it already."
Her tone must have been a little harsh because the other two women stopped, their laughter dying down. With a sinking feeling, Brennan sucked in a breath, that hot, hollow feeling that she'd made another social faux pas filling her lungs and sobering her up a bit.
But she was wrong, as usual. A devilish smile perked up Angela's dimples and she leaned forward, making eye contact with Brennan but calling out to the living room. "Cam tells us your dick is pierced, Booth."
His answering blush was all the confirmation they needed. Brennan could barely discern the difference between the disbelieving whoops and catcalls in the room and her own thundering thoughts. Pierced? He pierced his penis? Why? What would-
"What would possess a man to do such a thing?" she wondered out loud. It would appear that no one heard her, but they were all wondering the same thing, anyway.
Booth's head was bowed, his forehead in his hands. He was shaking his head but then suddenly lifted it, pointing an accusing finger in Cam's direction.
"You. Are dead."
"What? Come on, Seel. Some things are just bound to come out eventually."
The moment of silence was punctuated by the simultaneous intonations of a ridiculous phrase Brennan barely understood coming from both Hodgins and Sweets:
"That's what she said."
Brennan laughed, but only because the tension was broken and everyone else was laughing. She eagerly sprang to the couch and took that spot next to Booth, suddenly intensely interested in whatever he had to say.
"Did it hurt?" This from Brennan.
"What's it feel like when you pop a bone?" Hodgins.
"Did you do it on a dare? Or were you expressing some sort of anger, or perhaps it was an act or rebellion?" This from Sweets.
"You know, I never asked if you ever take it out." Cam.
"Fuck all those questions. I wanna see it," Angela said, looming over him with her arms crossed over her chest.
"What? Hell no. Get away from me," Booth said, waving his arm at her. But he knew better. They all knew better. There were two things that got Angela all stirred up- great art and interesting sex. Brennan knew she would need to know everything, and it was one of those rare times when she was glad Angela was there to ask all the questions. Brennan suddenly wanted to know all about it as well.
"Hon, you're not getting out of this. Now 'fess up and tell Miss Angela everything." Ange perched on the couch arm next to him and leaned on the cushion with her elbow, clearly not going anywhere. Booth cleared his throat and searched the room for a friendly face to help him out, but the subject matter was just too juicy. With a nervous glance in Brennan's direction, he downed another Jell-o and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Fine. I can see you squints won't rest until all the facts are in. Assholes." His tone belied his facial expression; he seemed almost proud. Brennan's curiosity was piqued.
"It was… years ago. I was in the army. We had just… we had finished a mission. Kind of a hairy one. Me and my buddy Mack were in Hawaii, hitting the bars and stuff. He announced he'd always wanted one and we went off in search of a piercing place. And… I don't know, I just did it."
The explanation was simple, succinct. Not the usual way Booth told old remembrances about the army. No details, no humorous recollections of conversations told in ridiculous voices.
Perhaps that is why Brennan was instantly convinced that it was true.
"You just… did it?" Angela's voice was disbelieving, her face full of shock. She wasn't as convinced.
"Yeah," he shrugged, reaching for a bottle of water. "No big deal."
"Wait, my friend. No big deal? You let someone put a large-gauge needle through your dick and it's no big deal?" Hodgins seemed to have the most trouble grasping the concept. He was leaning forward in his chair from across the coffee table, his mouth open and his eyes wide.
"Look," Booth sighed, sitting back and closing his eyes. "It was a weird time, all kinds of confusing things going on. I just… wanted a change." Brennan sensed that there was more to the story, but for once, she didn't press the issue. Perhaps she was too busy focusing on…
"So, did it hurt?"
"Right," Hodgins scoffed. "I've seen pictures, man. That shit hurt, admit it."
"You look at pictures of dick piercings?" Booth said, laughing.
"Oh, no. You don't get to take the focus off of you. Guy or chick?"
"Was it done by a dude or a chick?"
"A girl, actually."
"Dude, did you get a stiffie?" Sweets had piped up this time.
"Hell no! She was coming at me with a cold iodine swab and a needle. Of course not."
"But still… hot tattooed, pierced chick coming at your penis? Don't tell me you didn't-"
"Look, Hodgins. I had to fight to keep it from crawling up inside my abdominal cavity the entire time."
"That's not actually possible, Booth." Brennan was glad her voice didn't fail on her, but she felt that she had to clarify that point.
He laughed. "Thanks, Bones. Nah, it was very clinical. Drop trow, lay down a drape. Iodine and gloves. You guys would've appreciated the procedure. Very precise. Hold it like this," he said, demonstrating the way one would hold a banana to peel, "then she asked if I was sure, counted to three… and bam." He jabbed a finger at his hand, and both Sweets and Hodgins winced. "Reversed Prince Albert, thankyouverymuch." Booth sat back with a satisfied smile and looked around at everyone. Definitely proud of himself.
"What's a Reversed Prince Albert?" Brennan wanted to know. She couldn't be the only one who was in the dark about this one.
"In through the urethra and out through the glans. It's uh… it's supposed to be better for the ladies," he finished sheepishly, that lazy grin still on his face. Brennan was staring at the dimple in his cheek, not knowing what to say.
"Wooow," Angela said, her jaw slack. "You think you know a guy…"
"Hey. I'm the same guy. Not so prudish now, eh there, Bones?" he teased, bumping her knee with his.
"No. I suppose not."
Booth's revelation seemed to signify an end to the evening, and a half-hour later, Brennan found herself alone with Angela, helping to clean up the empty Jell-o containers and lime wedges.
"So. Booth's got a sexy little secret, eh?" Angela asked as she cleaned her counter. Brennan thought for a moment, trying not to appear too eager to discuss the topic she really wanted to analyze.
"I suppose so."
"So. Are you gonna find out what it's like, or shall I? I've never had a pierced guy before. Hmm. Mm hmm." Angela stared off into the distance, and Brennan found that she was bristling. Whether it was at her friend's continued insistence that she and Booth were "gonna do it eventually" or because she wasn't sure if Angela was serious about "doing it" with Booth herself, she didn't know.
"It is rather provocative," Brennan said, not wanting to appear too interested. Angela simply smirked at her while continuing to wipe down the kitchen, and Brennan was glad that she didn't bring it up again.
Days later, she found herself staring at nothing while working. She couldn't remember the last time her focus had been so far from her work, and she was getting annoyed by it. She almost dropped her phone when it rang.
"Brennan," she breathed. The real problem was that Angela had emailed her pictures she had found on the internet of what the piercing looked like, and… well, it really was provocative.
"Bones?" It was Booth. She felt the capillaries in her face filling with blood which was ludicrous as he was not in front of her, but she always felt as though he could read her every body gesture. Like he knew she'd been thinking about his penis.
"Yeah, I'm here," she replied, desperately trying to remove all mental images from her brain. Focus.
"Listen, we've gotta go over next month's trial. You, me, take out and paperwork. I'll be at your place around, what. Seven?" He sounded in a hurry which was fine by her. She wasn't prepared for normal conversation at that juncture.
"Yes. We can do that." She snapped her phone shut after some idle chit-chat and leaned on the lab table, heaving a big sigh.
"Something wrong, Dr. Brennan?" Cam had walked in and was hugging a clipboard, a frown of concern making Brennan feel guilty. She ought to be able to focus on her work and she simply couldn't.
"Yes. No. I'm just… Booth wants to go over some paperwork." She hated how breathy her voice was. She met the pathologist's eyes and saw a knowing look there.
"Listen, I'm going to say this just once, and then you'll never hear me broach the subject again. If you ever get the opportunity… I highly recommend it." With that, Cam swiveled around and left. Brennan furrowed her brow. What did that mean?
Later that evening, she found herself pacing her apartment, nervous and annoyed about it. She had tried meditating to no avail. When Booth knocked at precisely seven o'clock using the ridiculous "shave and a haircut" bit, she had to take a deep breath and steel herself before opening the door. It's just Booth. She couldn't understand why she was so agitated.
"Heya," he said, grinning. And he looked good. He always looked good to her, familiar, his handsome face having nothing to do with it (mostly). For the first time in days her inexplicable apprehension faded and she stepped back, allowing him into her apartment. She took the box of food from him and he walked in, completely comfortable in her place. He was still wearing his suit but his tie was loosely knotted around his neck; he hadn't gone home to change.
They settled in at the couch, soothing and non-descript music drifting from her speakers. Sometime around ten o'clock she had to stand up and stretch; it felt good to have focus, to be working toward a goal. One thing she always appreciated about her partner- he could always maintain that professional boundary and keep her on task. It was one of many reasons why she enjoyed working with him.
Then he had to go and blur those professional lines, as he often did.
"Okay, what's wrong," he demanded. She looked up, startled. How did he always know? She thought she had been doing an excellent job of masking her odd inner turmoil; that it had been fading ever since that revelatory night of Jell-o.
"Nothing's wrong," she scoffed, sitting back down several inches away from where she had been next to him. He gave her his skeptical, "I know you're lying" look and she tried to think of a way to deflect, but she knew before trying that he'd keep at it until he got an answer. He was a good detective that way.
"Boooones," he wheedled, trying his often successful tactic of whining like a small child. But there was no way she was going to start discussing his fascinating penile… decoration.
"All right. Let's have it."
"You, scientist lady. You're curious, aren't you? I was afraid of this. Let's just get it out there. Not," he stammered, blushing furiously. She finally grinned, always enjoying his discomfort at any mention of sex-talk. "Not you know, get it out there. I mean…" He sighed again, loosened his tie some more. "Just ask whatever you want to ask so we can move on with life."
She could have easily denied it, could have suppressed the urge to sate her curiosity. But that wasn't her way. She took a deep breath and looked directly at him, a question in her face- giving him the chance to retract his offer.
His half smile encouraged her to continue.
"Okay," she began, and he let out a quiet sigh of relief. "I conducted a little research."
"You would," he said wryly. She smiled.
"So… anecdotal accounts confirm that women, and male receivers, for that matter, are very much pleased with the sensation of intercourse with a… pierced penis."
"I've never had any complaints."
"What's it like for you? I also read that men report more sensitivity and less longevity." She fixed him with a stare, almost daring him to answer.
He chuckled and set his glass down. "Yeah, at first I was a two-pump chump. Like I was sixteen again." Her brow furrowed and he interrupted her question with a raised hand. "I didn't last that long."
"Ah." She thought a moment before continuing. "And now?"
"Well, let's just say practice makes perfect."
"Do you- are you wearing it right now?"
"Yep." He took a sip of his water.
"Do you ever take it out?"
"Only to clean the ring."
"Oh, so it's a ring."
"Yeah, the barbell made me feel like I was carrying an extra pipe in my pants." She laughed and adjusted her position so that she was sitting cross-legged on the couch and facing him, realizing she was no longer hesitant to discuss the subject.
"Booth- can I just say that it's very refreshing, finding this out about you."
"Yes. I mean, anthropologically speaking, this opens up a whole new level of study for me. The act of decorating one's body is as old as human civilization. To this day, many cultures do things to their skin, their ears, their genitalia, and Western tradition balks at the practice. Considering you conservative upbringing, this is a revelation that-"
"Save it, Bones. I'm well-aware that piercing my dick is out of the norm for most people."
"No, no! It's really wonderful, Booth."
"Wonderful?" he laughed.
"Absolutely! Admittedly, I haven't had contact with any men who have had it done, and-"
"No decorated men on your roster, huh?" he grinned, poking her leg.
"No. Just you."
They sat in silence for a moment. She knew there were other questions that she had, but she found herself distracted again, this time glancing at the front of his pants, trying to see if it was visible.
"Dr. Brennan. Are you checking out my junk?"
"Yes you are. You were checking out my junk."
"Okay, maybe I was."
"You can't see it through layers of clothing, you know."
"What if you had an erection?" He choked on his water.
"What? You're the one with surgical steel currently going through the head of your penis, and the word 'erection' makes you uncomfortable?"
"I just-" he sighed. She smirked and leaned in close.
"I must admit, it's utterly fascinating to me." She hadn't meant to, but her voice had lowered in pitch, and as they often did, his eyes darkened in response.
"So what you're saying is… you can't stop thinking about my penis." The corners of his eyes crinkled and he sat up, his posture indicating that he was rather pleased with his own joke.
"No, no. I get it. Now, every time you're quiet, I can assume that I knew what's on your mind."
"That doesn't mean I'm-"
"Nope. It's cool, Bones. Just another thing that brings us closer as partners."
"Can we stop talking about your penis now?"
"Can you stop thinking about it?"
"All right, all right. Back to work."
But really, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
Eight days later, she was in her office when Booth came bounding in.
"We got a case, Bones."
"Okay. Just let me finish this email." She tapped on the keyboard for a few minutes and then closed out her browser. Finally looking up at him, her brow furrowed. "Something's different."
"Huh? Um, no?" His confusion struck her as endearing. She tried to figure out what it was that had changed, observing his attire, his hair- a quick glance at his pants the last visual check she went for.
His grin when she looked up at his face revealed that he'd noticed her perusal. Before he could say anything, she stood up and grabbed her bag.
"Come on, Booth. We have a case." She rushed out the door, his laughter trailing behind her.
Throughout the day, it felt as though he was taunting her, standing with his hands in his pockets, his hips thrust forward, belt buckle flashing in the sun like a beacon, drawing her eyes distal from his face. She tried to ignore her growing irritation at his attitude, but she vaguely understood that she was perhaps reading into things too much, as Sweets might say.
The case was long, frustrating. After several days of analyzing the remains and interviewing suspects, they weren't making much headway with the investigation.
In times like those, Booth occasionally insisted they "get outta their heads" for an evening and simply watch a film or some mindless television. It was supposed to be relaxing, but she had never been able to stop thinking about work.
On that particular night he had chosen a newer comedy, one of the raunchier ones that she never could understand much less enjoy.
"This is stupid," she said after a while, grabbing the remote and flipping the channel until she got to an older film. "We're watching this one."
"What? Oh, hell no. No black and white tonight."
"Come on, Booth. Please?" She softened her tone, opened up her eyes wider. She had observed that those tactics often worked, and she was right yet again. He sighed and sank back into the couch, putting his feet up and attempting to relax.
Maybe it was exhaustion or the long hours they'd been working on, but she found herself being gently shaken awake and she opened her eyes to find Booth a few centimeters from her face.
"Hey," she whispered, her voice raspy and soft.
"Hey. You fell asleep."
"You should've awakened me."
"Nah. You're tired." She smiled softly, enjoying the warm feeling of contentment, and she buried her face into his shoulder for a moment before lifting her head.
"What time is it?"
"I should go."
"Mm." Something in his eyes- that look she often observed and couldn't name- was there, something her body automatically responded to. For the nth time that day, her gaze strayed down his body and she felt him laughing beneath her, the rumble in his chest shaking her body, the laughter trickling warmth down her spine.
"Still at it, I see."
"No, you're not. It's cool." He paused a moment, a flicker of indecision on his face. He gulped and took a deep breath before continuing. "You wanna see it, don't you."
"No! No. I- wouldn't that be… strange?" A thrill shot through her. This was unexpected. And precisely what she wanted, only she hadn't realized it until just then.
"Strange is you constantly seeking answers to the world's dilemmas. Strange is you not requesting an audience sooner. In the name of scientific inquiry, of course," he stated solemnly with that wry grin on his face.
"That's… that's true. But it's just- inappropriate?"
"So you don't wanna see it."
"So you do?"
"Just say it. 'Booth, may I please see your penis?'"
"I don't sound like that."
"Quit changing the subject."
"You're the one who can't stay on task."
"Look, this is a one-time offer. If you can't-"
"Booth. I want to see your penis."
He had the nerve to appear shocked. They were still touching, the sides of their bodies flush on the couch. Without another word, his hands reached for his belt buckle, loosening, unzipping his pants, his hands reaching in, one long finger at the entrance to his boxer shorts.
"Last chance to back out," he said, his voice slightly lowered, but she shook her head and paused her breathing.
Dr. Brennan had been with many men, had seen all shapes and sizes. Despite having seen him fully naked, she could honestly say that she hadn't been concentrating on the dimensions of his penis at the time. She had remembered that Booth was on the larger end of the size and girth scale, and she was not incorrect. But she wasn't focusing on his size or shape or "which way he hung" as Angela always wanted to know- her eyes were trained on the silver ring with a ball attached to it.
"Wow," she breathed out, involuntarily leaning in for closer inspection.
"Shouldn't you be wearing gloves?" he asked, his voice full of humor and something else, something darker- she supposed it was testosterone flowing; the fact that he was exposing himself to a female, an act of exhibitionism.
"Only if I were going to touch it, which-" She didn't finish. It was… almost beautiful, really. The curve of flesh punctuated- punctured, more accurately- by a piece of cool metal. Almost as if it were a part of him.
"I would imagine it would make urination difficult," she murmured, still unable to take her eyes of it.
"You get used to it."
"And…" she trailed off, not knowing what to say. She had to suppress the urge to reach out, to trace the line of the metal, to feel the skin where the ring entered, follow it to the exit. One continuous loop through his flesh. A slow tingling of her nerves was pulsing throughout her body, but she couldn't pull away just yet.
She wasn't exactly sure how long she sat there bent over his lap, but she noticed when the dynamic in the room started to change. Her breathing had quickened and, almost as if in response, he started to harden. She admitted that she was aroused by both the piercing and the inspection. That he had allowed her to look was arousing.
"Time's up," he said, his voice strained, embarrassed. She shook her head, suddenly quite certain that they had crossed a line that they hadn't really meant to- but she had no wish to go back. Something was different, and it wasn't necessarily the fact that she was ogling him. She… felt different.
"Booth-" She put her hand out to stop him. She had only meant to be reassuring, but in doing so, her hand brushed against him and he hissed. She looked up and his eyes were closed. His jaw clenched. And she was attracted to that, to him. She always had been, but this was so intimate, so trusting of him.
"I'm not done with my observation yet," she said softly, seriously. He opened one eye and peered down at her.
She took a deep breath and reached out, gently brushing the front of his boxers.
"Shall I stop?" She felt a surge of warmth flow through her and it gave her courage, gave her the will to continue. She suppressed the misgiving that screamed through her head- her libido was taking control, and she decided to allow it to do so.
"No," he whispered, closing his eye and leaning his head back. With a triumphant smile, she ran her hand along the length of him, the fabric warm and the hard flesh underneath interrupted by the non-organic hardness of the metal.
She slipped her hand through the opening of his shorts and was pleased when his breath hitched; she grasped him, freeing him from the material. With a solid grasp she held him, rubbed her thumb along the head, reveling in the difference- the metal was warm from his body and it moved; she played with it, testing its pull as she moved it side to side.
"Bones-" he started to say, his teeth together, his mouth in a grimace. She knew he'd try to stop her, to talk his way out of it, and with a stubborn set to her jaw, she silenced him. Looking up at his tight expression, his eyes still closed- she decreased their distance, her tongue extended, taking one long, languorous lick and ending at the spot where his flesh was pierced.
"Ah," he cried out, bucking his hips, inadvertently thrusting his erection into her face. his eyes were open, disbelieving and full of desire.
With a pointed look at his eyes, she opened her mouth and took him in. Curious.
The metal swiped across the roof of her mouth, hitting her molars. She adjusted position on the couch and before she could move her hair from her face, she felt the soft tickle of his fingers doing it for her.
"No use doing this if I can't watch," he said, and his words thrilled her. No use, indeed. She released him and shifted to the floor, resting between his now-lax legs.
With a grin, she realized it had been a while since she'd been so- fascinated, so wholly unprepared for an aspect of sex. With gusto, she reached out and grasped him firmly, leaning forward once more.
His size aside, it took some getting used to, having him in her mouth. A foreign object on top of (or through) another foreign object/ she experimented with depth, with suction, with her tongue. In, to the left- she was a quick study and discovered he bucked the most when she leaned to either side, the warm metal brushing her inner cheek.
His breathing was heavy, his hands occasionally brushing her hair from her face. Taking him in as much as she could, she was pleased to discover the added metal did not trigger her gag reflex. Fascinating.
She decided to… play with it. Withdrawing, she looked at it with more scrutiny, experimented with her tongue. Moved it from side to side, tasted his tangy salt, wiggled the metal around and around.
"Jesus, Bones," he groaned, and she realized with some amusement that she had forgotten just whose dick was in her mouth. She also noticed that her experimentation was making her very… horny.
Abruptly, she stood and noted with satisfaction that he looked crestfallen. She decided to put him out of his misery lest he lose his impressive erection. She unbuttoned her pants and let them fall to the floor. He cocked an eyebrow.
"Are you sure-?"
"I am quite certain."
She removed her underwear while he scrambled to shed his pants and boxers. He leaned back into the couch and she put both hands on his shoulders and climbed onto his lap.
"Hey," he whispered, their faces close, and she nearly gasped at what she saw in his eyes. Lust, yes. But also- she could finally quantify that something she often observed at the oddest of moments- tenderness.
"Hi," she said, at a loss for the correct response. Biting her lower lip, she was unsure how to proceed, knowing full well that there was no turning back from this point.
Thankfully, Booth knew what to do. He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers. A soft kiss- a request – and she responded with a surprising amount of vigor. She may have been unsure, but her body was not. As she brought her hands to his face, he brought his to her hips and pressed down, her heat brushing along his. They gasped into each other's mouths, breaths mixing, tongues tangling, her hips starting a sliding rhythm against him, the added pressure of his piercing hitting her in the most delicious way.
She ground down, the ring hitting her clitoris- were it possible, her eyes would have rolled back into her orbitals and over again. Oh, my. Much nicer than any other non-human substitute she had tried. She thrust up, and up, the tip of him hitting just- right- there-
He withdrew, slightly, alarmingly, and she opened her eyes. Looked right at him.
"Please. I want to." Please, Booth. I need to.
He nodded. Closed his eyes. Pressed his forehead to hers. Then he opened his eyes, grasped her hips, and thrust up once. Hard.
She threw her head back, cried out. Was vaguely aware that he had done the same. Her hips rolled, her quads tensed as she rose up, pausing for one long moment and then lowering herself back down again.
It's a curious thing how the shape of an erect penis was designed to hit a woman, creating pleasure in order to assist in the propagation of the species. The female orgasm was not necessary for fertilization to occur as the male's was.
The added… piece… was hitting her in entirely new spots. Rubbing, stimulating, causing new friction that she'd never, ever known. And had she but known… she was certain while sitting there, sitting on him, on Booth, that she would never be able to have sex any other way, ever again.
She looked into his face, all previous misgivings about this- about sex with Booth- gone. It was irrational how right she felt. Her eyes opened wide, met his; she kissed him fiercely, rode him and rode him. Fleeting memories of his delight when she successfully told a joke, the way he greeted her some mornings with a steaming cup of coffee just the way she liked it, the sound of his voice when she called at odd hours with an excuse to talk about a case- all of it fell into place as she mercilessly ground harder and harder and faster and faster and oh.
"Oh," she said into his mouth. And "oh" as she swiveled her hips. And-
"Bones," he said, voice strained, his eyes still open as he clutched her hip with one hand and sank the other into her hair.
"Yes," she hissed. Yes.
The intense pressure, building, building, the tingle, the extra spot, more than one place, too much, it was too much. Oh-
"Ah," he cried, his body stilling, her body still going, his cries punctuating her thoughts, driving her there and there and there and-
She fell. Fell on him or through him and fell, her head to the side, her neck limp, her hair covering her face.
She rested against his shoulder, feeling his thoracic cavity expanding, his heart pounding to her similarly quick rhythm. She took in a deep breath, caught a whiff of his salty warm Booth smell; she softly kissed his neck.
He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her hair. They remained like that for seconds or hours, hearts slowly returning to a normal pace.
Gingerly, she lifted her hips, releasing him, an extra, near-painful tingle shocking through her when his piercing brushed against her sensitive, swollen flesh. She moved to sit next to him, curling up and resting her head on his arm, a small smile on her face.
"Yeah." He sounded… regretful, and the post-coital euphoria she'd been experiencing lessened. For once, she was able to interpret his regret. Knew she could allow it, could allow him to think she'd merely been curious.
And in a way, she had. Temperance Brennan was many things, but unobservant was not one of them. And what she had observed during her experiment to satiate her curiosity was that she had used it as an excuse.
A thrill went through her. She had always assumed she'd be hesitant to admit to having deeper emotions, but perhaps it was the fact that she was still learning things about her partner, that she would most likely continue learning new things about him- and that she would always enjoy them- albeit not so much as this new thing- that gave her courage.
"I enjoyed that, Booth." His chuckle warmed her, gave her strength.
"Me too, Bones."
"I enjoy you," she said softly, hoping he would understand her meaning. Hoping she understood her meaning.
"Yeah? I enjoy you too, bones." She knew him enough to recognize his placating tone, and she found that it stung to think he didn't understand her. She would make him understand.
"No, Booth." She grasped his chin and turned his head so that they were facing each other. "I-" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. "I- I think I enjoy you… I mean, I want to continue to enjoy you. Not… not just the sex." She was suddenly shy, a trickle of doubt seeping into her brain.
But his eyes… they turned dark, searching her face, looking for something. She looked at him plainly, again biting her lip. She decided to be clear.
"I don't want to go back to how things were before." There. He looked shocked. Then he grinned.
"Wow. I should've told you about this dick piercing thing years ago."
"Really? That's all it took? Patience and hope, my ass. You just needed a little push from a piece of metal."
"What does that- you make no sense." She didn't know what he was talking about, but she knew mocking when she heard it.
"Hey. You're the one getting all revelatory over Prince Albert."
"C'mere." He lay down and pulled her on top of him, the largest grin she'd ever witnessed lighting his face. "You are wonderful. Frustrating, but wonderful. And lovely," he whispered, brushing her hair from her face. The look in his eyes nearly made her stop breathing. "Hey, you're not gonna change your mind, are you? Wake up tomorrow and realize it was just your incredibly satisfactory orgasm talking?"
"You're impossible," she grinned. But then she looked at him seriously. "I- I didn't know, Booth."
"Didn't know what?"
"This. This… these emotions. I'm not sure…"
"Hey. One step at a time, Bones." And it was that- his gentle words, always patient with her, always supportive- that confirmed her decision.
"Just so we're clear- you're as crazy about me as I am about you, right?" His suspicious tone was almost hidden by a joy she had never seen on his face before; and with a smug smile.
"I think it was just the orgasm talking."
"Oh, no, Lady. I saw you. You've been exposed. Sorry. No back peddling."
"Back peddling? Is that a sexual position?" She grinned as he poked her side.
"Hey! She cracks jokes, too, ladies and gentlemen." He smile fell and he took on a serious tone. "I'm not letting you go, you know."
"Well, I'd most likely fall off the couch."
"Not what I meant."
"I know," she said softly. "I don't want you to let go." He kissed her then, a soft kiss, and she returned it, closing her eyes and not wanting to stop.
"I never will." She laid her head on his shoulder and smiled as his arms wrapped around her, allowing her happy exhaustion to lull her to sleep.
I highly suggest you do a google image search now. but omg NSFW warning