This is not my hiatus story, it's just a short piece to survive the next week. And be warned, it's nothing but sweet and corny sex, mushiness and love.
HE'S GOT A HOLD ON HER
"Can you just...?"
The blood had been red, so red. It had been Mr. Nigel-Murray's face, Mr. Nigel-Murray's voice, Booth's hands, but the red... the red had been the same. The same nausea-evoking color, the same dire clarity that life itself was draining out of a body.
Out of someone she loved.
It was about half past four in the morning, and Brennan was sitting in her partner's living room, her hands shaking, her face damp.
It had been three years ago when she had been the one applying pressure to a wound, when the red of blood had covered her own white hands. Three years ago when she had lost another person she had loved. Back then it hadn't been the one bleeding, but the feeling was similar. Nagging, sharp, overwhelming.
Booth's fake-death and Zack's betrayal had filled her heart with pain, but this time it felt as if there was actually a hole gaping inside of her own chest. Since she had been fifteen years old, Temperance Brennan had carried her own safe place with her, had been like a tortoise which could hide without going anywhere.
She wasn't that person anymore. Her shell had been cracked, and tonight she was defenseless against the darkness of grief, the power of loss. Wrapping her arms around her torso, Brennan could smell the detergent that lingered in the fabric of his gray shirt; a scent that would forever remind her of Booth.
A tiny sob escaped her lips, as she thought about her partner behind that door. His mere presence provided comfort, but it wasn't enough, it couldn't fill the bleak emptiness.
Her mind was dazed as her feet started to move, almost on their own volition, and without knocking she opened his bedroom door. 'I just need to see his face, hear his breath,' she told herself, but as soon as he jolted up, pointing a gun at her, Brennan found herself flooded with relief. No, seeing him asleep wouldn't have been enough, she needed him awake, needed his vivid eyes looking at her.
As soon as the adrenaline rushing through his system subsided, Booth's heart clenched unexpectedly at the sight of his partner. Brennan was standing in the door frame like every incarnation of vulnerability, his shirt way too big for her slender body, her cheeks pale and covered with tears.
They were safe, he understood that much, but as she padded in his direction, as he reached for her hand, everything but the gray-blue in her gaze vanished. The universe of her big eyes crushed him with her pain as she started to talk, and her tears were as honest as the rest of her being. It had only been a few months ago that he had seen her crying, and back then his hands had itched with the urge to hold her, but he hadn't been allowed to do it. Tonight, however, there was something he could do for her, and he didn't need her toneless plea, her unfinished whisper to wrap his arms around her.
There was no need for her to ask because tonight he was just there to hold her, to keep her safe in more than one way, and her hot cheek pressed to his chest, they fell back together.
The mattress bobbed, as her tiny frame trembled in his arms, but despite her devastation, Brennan understood that she had found a new shell, a new safe haven in his embrace, and when her fist clutched the softness of his shirt, when her tears dampened the fabric so close to his strong heartbeat, she knew that if had been worth it. In spite of everything... risking her imperviousness had been worth it.
His big palms roamed soothingly over her back, and, eventually, her breath evened out, and her body softened in his embrace. Shifting his head, he placed a tender kiss in her silky hair.
"I've got you, Bones."
"He has been my favorite, Booth," she murmured after a while. "I have almost loved him as much as Zack."
"This is just not fair."
"Life is very rarely fair."
"Booth... it could have been you," she whispered, and his hold on her tightened.
"It should have been me," he dared to answer after a while, and her insides went as cold as ice.
Raising her head, she looked at him through the curtain of moisture in her desperate eyes. His face shimmered almost bronze in the dim light, and she traced the contours of his proud jawline with a tentative finger.
"We need you to find Broadsky, Booth, and besides... I need you. I... I cannot lose you."
She choked on her words, and he cupped her small face with his palm.
"Hey, Baby," he whispered, "I know. Look, I'm sorry. I know that Jake is the only one to blame, and I hate that son of a bitch, It's just that... Vincent was so young, so innocent. Just a little squint. I am the one that bullet was meant for."
Shaking her head vigorously, Brennan clasped his warm hand with her own.
"Don't go there," she pleaded, her eyes full of fresh tears. "Nobody should have died."
"It could have been you as well, Bones," he stated after a while, his voice low and lifeless.
"Don't go there, either..."
Tapping her chin with his fingers, Booth forced her to look into his eyes.
"What you said... it goes both ways. You are the one I cannot lose, either, you know that, right?"
Holding his gaze, she nodded.
"Yes," came her admission, and the fingers that still captured her face released her with the hint of a caress.
Snuggling back into the safety of his chest, Brennan inhaled deeply. Now that she wasn't shaken with desperate sobs anymore, she could actually feel the warmth radiating from his body, could smell his unique scent, the one which meant that, eventually, everything would be okay.
"Hold me," she whispered, and his big palm smoothed her hair, cupped her nape.
"Always," he murmured.
"If one of us had died today..."
"Please, let me say it."
His silent nod was her answer, and her fingers played with the collar of his shirt.
"If you had died... or me... Oh, Booth, I would have had so many regrets."
Regrets... and one more time he had to think about that other night when she had been crying. When she had offered him the one thing he had ever longed for, and he hadn't been in the position to accept it. Regrets...
"Even about the last weeks?"
A burning piece of paper, his unguarded face, a run in the park... A little smile managed to light up her sad face.
"No, not about them. But there are still so many things I don't know about you, Booth. Thinking I might never know them... It's heart-breaking."
"Heart-crushing," he murmured into her hair, and dimples of wistfulness appeared on her chin.
"Bones," he took a deep breath, "never doubt that you mean the world to me. I cannot remember a time when your smile didn't make my day, when you didn't have a hold on me."
Her brow furrowed in confusion.
"It's actually you who is holding me."
He chuckled lightly.
"It's just a saying. Means that, well, I'm yours."
"Oh... Then it seems as if you've got a hold on me, too," she admitted almost shyly.
She took in a shuddered breath, as his hands resumed their soothing caresses on her back.
"Thank you, Booth," she finally said.
"For being here. Holding me. I never had someone to comfort me like that."
"That's because you wouldn't let me, Bones. Remember that night when Zack was in hospital and we knew?"
How could she ever forget?
"I wanted to stay with you, but you wouldn't let me. I spent the night in my car outside your building. You never let me in."
Her voice almost broke on a sob.
"I know. But I have changed, Booth. I'm letting you in now."
"Sh, I don't blame you. Just know that you've never been alone. I've always been there for you. I never wanted you to change; I only wanted to be there for you."
"I want to be there for you as well, you know that, don't you?"
"Yes, and you are. Thank you, Bones, for risking it."
"It's worth it," she whispered, and new tears were rolling down her cheeks. "It hurts so much, but at least I feel as if I've known Vincent. I know his favorite song, Booth."
"I'm so proud of you."
"At least I know you, Booth," she continued. "And you know how much you mean to me, right?
His chest felt sore but warm at her words, and his embrace cradled her securely.
"Yes," he breathed. "And you mean just as much to me."
Her face nuzzled deeper into the crook of his neck, and he could feel her tears dampening his skin.
"Loving someone is the biggest risk, but it is the greatest chance as well," he murmured, and her muffled sobs increased.
"You promise?" she asked, sounding like the lost little girl she was.
"Yes, I promise," he stated, his lips pressed to her temple.
"You will not leave me?"
Shifting her until he could look into her eyes, Booth rested his palm over her fluttering heartbeat.
"You will always have me."
Her pale blue orbs bore into his, and he could see straight into her vulnerable core.
"I want to be loved as well, Booth."
His heart skipped a beat, and then he was falling into honesty, as his lips started to speak.
"You are," he whispered. "So much."
Taking her beautiful face in both hands, he kissed her brow, her damp cheeks, the swollen skin around her red-rimmed eyes.
"So, so much."
Flinging her arms around his neck, Brennan almost threw herself into his embrace, but, as always, he caught her.
"Booth, I want thirty, forty, fifty years. That is, if you still want to give them."
"Yes, oh, yes," he managed to say against the lump in his throat.
"Are you still angry?"
"Are you still impervious?"
"No... I'm," a deep breath, "sad. But somebody very wise once told me that it is so much better than being dead inside. I'm feeling, Booth."
"I've only ever wanted you, Bones," he finally admitted. "With you... my world is a better place."
"That doesn't make any sense... but I feel it as well."
Booth cast a glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand.
"It's almost 6 am. You wanna try to sleep, Honey?"
Shaking her head, Brennan tightened her arms around him.
"No, just hold me, please."
"Oh, I will. Just hang on a second, and I'll be back."
He disentangled himself from her, and the loss of his solid body hit her with almost physical pain. Sitting up, Brennan wrapped her arms around her knees, but it was only a weak substitute for the comfort Booth could provide. She could hear him rummaging around, and a few moments later he came back, switching off the lamps in the living room, carrying a glass of water and a damp washcloth in his hands.
Wordlessly, he gave her the drink, and she gulped down the cool liquid hastily. When she had finished, he took the empty glass out of her hands and brought the washcloth to her face, cleaning her with infinite gentleness.
She managed a weak smile.
"How bad do I look?"
He shook his head, and something like reverence washed over his face.
"Not bad at all. You're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. It's just that your skin is so tender, and I don't want you to be sore in the morning."
Ignoring the fact that it was already morning, ignoring the fact that she could very well clean herself, Brennan let him resume his ministrations with an unreadable expression on her face. It felt as if he was washing away more than only her tears.
The mattress shifted, when he got back into bed with her, and this time he slid underneath the cozy blanket. Still, she sat motionless on the edge of his bed, and he took her hand, tugging her next to him.
"Come to me, Bones."
With neither strength nor reasons to resist his call, she nestled up to him, her arm draped over his stomach, her legs entangled with his. His body was hard and soft at the same time, just like Booth himself. Of their own accord, her long fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt, and he took a sharp breath, as her palm rested on his bare stomach. His muscles worked underneath her touch, and she wasn't sure if it was mere surprise or discomfort, but his warmth was so enticing that she couldn't remove her hand.
"Bones," he murmured in the darkness, and his name for her touched her somehow.
"Being with you like this feels so right," she whispered and she could feel a tiny kiss landing on top of her head.
"Because we both dreamed about it," he said, and his sentence was true in more than one way.
"Would you... would you touch me, please?" she asked on a whisper, and her soft request crushed his heart, melted his resistance.
"I don't wanna use you," he admitted, "don't wanna do something you might regret."
Her laughter was brief and lifeless.
"I'm positive that you touching me is the last thing I might regret. You are not using me. And be sure, Booth, I don't wanna use you, either. I just need to feel you."
Her fingertips traced his abdominal muscles, and he let go of a shuddered breath.
"Whatever we do tonight, it means something. You get that, right?"
"It already does, Booth. How much more can it possibly mean?"
Her words caressed his auricle, and on a will of their own, his arms around her tightened, rolling her around until he covered her completely with his body. She didn't hesitate a second to wrap her arms around his neck, to pull his head down to her shoulder.
Her legs widened to accommodate his hips, and it didn't surprise her at all that it was a perfect fit. Even though they had never been together like this, it seemed as if the dices had long been thrown, as if the only thing missing was... consummation.
His lips landed on her throat, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin he found there, and her little moan was almost his downfall. With a low sigh, his hand moved under her shirt – the shirt that smelled like him, that smelled like her as well – traveling up her smooth side.
She shivered, as he grazed her skin with his fingernails, and he did it again. His eyes stung with unshed tears, and when he opened them, he found her unguarded gaze caressing his skin. The first harbinger of dawn was shining in through the blinds, and he saw its reflection on her face.
"Beautiful, so beautiful," he mumbled, and then, finally, he lowered his head.
"Now I've got you," she whispered against his lips, and he smiled as he kissed her, as their mouths touched each other for the first time. It was sweet, careful even, and when her lips parted, when his tongue slid against hers, it felt as if he was caressing pure velvet. The taste of her was utterly familiar, even though she didn't taste like he remembered her. There was no uncertainty in her kiss, no resistance – it was just one of those rare moments where time was standing still; a glimpse of heaven.
She moaned low in her throat, and he could feel the vibration on his lips as he lost himself in the sensation.
Seeley Booth had kissed Temperance Brennan once in the rain. She had been a vibrant young woman with a high ponytail, and in her kiss there had been the promise of passion and a trace of tequila. He had kissed her another time because of a bargain, and fate had given him the duration of five steamboats to taste his partner without consequences. Once more he had kissed her after that, and it had been brief, born out of sheer desperation. It had almost destroyed them.
Out of all the kisses they had ever shared, this one was by far the best. It was a kiss that would last, and even when they had to break apart, she didn't retreat, didn't take back what her lips had just promised, and after a few ragged breaths, he sought her mouth anew. She met him willingly, and the feeling of her rose petal lips moving over his own soothed his battered heart and, finally, brought him home.
Remembering that he was still lying on top of her – probably crushing her – Booth supported most of his weight on his left elbow. However, his right hand found hers on the mattress, and when their fingers intertwined, the magnitude of their connection almost overwhelmed him.
'I love you,' he thought, and maybe she could sense it because her next kiss was as sweet as rain in a warm night of summer.
Her hands slipped under his shirt, pulling it over his head, and soon he was towering above her with his bare chest for her to revel in. Brennan had always admired his structure, right from the beginning, but it had taken her years to accept that his most precious asset lay hidden underneath the muscles. Her fingertips traced his pulse point, found his reassuring heartbeat and came to a halt on a scarred spot next to his shoulder. The skin was thin, almost silvery there, and she could still remember his deep red blood running through her fingers.
"If there is a God, Booth, I wanna thank him that you are alive," she uttered, and he brushed her nose with his.
"I'm gonna tell him."
Then it was just kissing and touching, and he rolled them around once more until they were both lying on their sides, her face so close that he could feel her breath. Her eyes were still pale, but warmth had found its way back into her gaze, and a faint rosiness covered her cheeks. One hand in her hair, he pulled her closer again, kissing her neck, grazing the soft flesh of her earlobe with his teeth.
She moaned deep in her throat, and the sound was so sensual that his whole body began to tingle. Her fingers were dancing over his back, kneading the muscles, marking the skin – setting him ablaze like no touch before had ever done. Her lips against his shoulder, she tried to speak without interrupting the shower of kisses.
"Just in case," she panted, "there is nothing wrong about doing this. Anthropologically speaking-"
He cut her off with a hard kiss.
"I know. I've been to war, Bones. But this... it is more than just a reminder that we are alive."
His hands on her back traveled lower, cupping her firm buttocks, pressing her into his body. Her thighs widened for the hard bulge she met, and heat was running through her veins.
"It is, yes, it is," she chanted, and then his hands slipped into the waistband of her soft sweatpants. "Yes, don't stop."
Her panties were made of cotton, but Booth could feel her body heat through the thin material, and his fingers played with it for a few moments before he dove into them, finally making contact with bare skin.
Breathing heavily, Brennan wrapped her upper leg over his hip, moving even closer to him. Her face nuzzled his smooth chest, and then one flat nipple was under her mouth. Parting her lips, Brennan circled it with her tongue, and his sharp intake of breath was her reward. Blowing softly over his damp flesh, she watched the bud hardening, and just when he squeezed her buttocks bolder than he had done before, she sucked him into her mouth.
A groan vibrated in his chest, and dampness was pooling between her thighs. His hold on her tightened, and then he pushed her pants and panties down her legs. Kicking and squirming, she tried to help him, and soon his clothed leg slid between her naked ones, parting her efficiently.
Between their bodies, she could still feel his hardness, and curiosity got the best of her, as her hand roamed down his chest. Wiry hair met her right above his waistband, and without further delay, she moved her hand into his clothes until she could feel his velvety heat for the first time.
The breath whooshed out of his lungs, as she closed her hand around his length, and his head fell to her shoulder.
'Mine,' she thought, as she pumped him in a steady rhythm, and possessiveness she hadn't known so far consumed her.
He was big, bigger than she had imagined, and her body answered in the most natural way ever, preparing itself to accommodate him. Then it was her turn to moan, as his fingers brushed her private curls, finding her already wet.
"Oh, Bones," he breathed into her ear, and she could feel his fluid of anticipation between her own fingers, as his callous thumb circled her clit, skimmed her entrance.
Lifting his head, he met her gaze, and her eyes which had been so open all night long had turned to a darker shade of blue than he had ever seen. A small smile curved her lips, and he responded with one of his own before he pulled her close for another kiss, and this time it was raw and full of hunger.
Their teeth clashed. Within an instant his tongue was in her mouth, drinking her, making her his just the same time when two of his fingers dipped into her core. Her grip on his shaft tightened, as she whimpered against his lips, but her thighs widened to give him better access.
Whatever he wanted, she would give it to him.
Whatever she wanted, he would do it for her.
She groaned in protest when he withdrew his fingers, but a blink later he had removed his superfluous clothes and was tugging at her shirt. Lifting her arms over her head, Brennan tried to assist, and then they were naked.
Both of them stilled for a moment. His gaze roamed over her uncovered body, the round curve of her hips, her flat belly, the proud swell of her breasts. She was milky-white, dusky pink and as dark as ebony. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.
Brennan watched him watching her, and her chest tightened at the pure adoration on his face.
'I love him,' she thought and she inhaled deeply, as she took in his very male beauty. He was so big, so stately. His muscular chest heaved under his breaths, and right between his hard thighs his proud manhood was waiting for her.
She licked her lips absentmindedly, as her gaze zoomed in on this impressive part of his anatomy, but the little flicker of her pink tongue tore him out of his admiration.
"You are perfect," he uttered, and her eyes flew to his, finding intensity in the dark orbs that took her breath away.
"So are you."
Bringing himself to a sitting position with his back leaning against the backrest of his bed, he outstretched his arms.
"Come to me."
Without hesitation she straddled his lap, her long legs wrapped around his narrow pelvis, and both of them released a long moan, as their bare chests met each other for the first time. Hugging her fiercely but tenderly, Booth rocked her back and forth, enjoying the reality of her weight on top of him. Her fingernails were digging into the skin of his shoulders, and it was the most exquisite pain ever.
"I want you," she murmured, and his hardness between her spread legs throbbed in response.
"Yes," he said, and his eyes were deep and dark as he sought her gaze.
Loosening his hold on her, Booth brought his hands to her forefront, cupping her full breasts, testing their weight. They were perfect in his hands, but then again, he had always assumed they would be. Pinching her nipples lightly elicited a whimper from her, and he could feel her damp heat where she was sitting on his groins.
Grabbing her sides, he lifted her effortlessly, bringing her chest closer to his lips, and then he was licking her. Her breath hitched, as the raspy length of his tongue ran over her sensitive flesh, and goosebumps appeared on her skin.
Sucking her one last time, he lowered her again.
"Only a little."
Reaching for the long-forgotten blanket, he wrapped it safely around her shoulders, encircling her with softness and warmth.
"Yes, oh, yes."
Grabbing his iron-hard shaft, she pumped him once more before she lifted herself, before she sunk back.
And they were connected.
Her head fell to his shoulder, as dizziness threatened to get the best of her. He filled her perfectly, stretching her almost a tad too far, but Brennan assumed that this was only natural. After all, it had been a while.
He held her in the cocoon of the blanket, his arms strong and real all around her. Everything she could feel was Booth, and for the first time in her life, Brennan understood what it meant to lose themself in another human being.
"Am I hurting you?" he whispered, and she could sense insecurity in his desire-clouded voice.
No," she tried to reassure him, "I just have to adjust. You're big... and it has been a while."
"Oh, Bones, I'm so sorry," he uttered, almost crushing her with the force of his embrace.
"Don't be. No more regrets, Booth."
"Did you wait for me?" he dared to ask, and she shrugged.
"Maybe. I wanted to experience sex like you have described it. I wanted to know."
With every breath she took, every caress of him she could feel herself softening until the discomfort had vanished completely, until she longed for more. Experimentally, she moved her pelvis, taking his breath away for a moment, as the sensation rippled through his body.
"You will know, Honey," he promised on a whisper, and she found his lips for a featherlight kiss.
"I already do. Booth... I love you."
'Oh my God,' he thought, as pure bliss exploded in his chest. Laughing with glee, he rocked into her from below. The sound of his laughter freed her somehow, and walls that had barely existed anymore crumbled completely.
Holding onto him with everything she had, Brennan surrendered herself to his movements, meeting him thrust for thrust.
"I love you so damn much," he finally said, and even though his words didn't make it more real, she was surprised to find out how much she had needed to hear them.
Tears filled her eyes, and the sadness of the day mingled with the happiness of the moment until everything left was one raw emotion.
Her body in his arms was soft and pliant, her inner muscles caressing him like pure silk. Booth held her so close to his chest that he could barely move, but slowly the sweetest friction was building. Her nipples were almost painfully hard where they rubbed against his skin, and she could feel a tightening low in her belly.
One of his hands slipped under her cloak that was the blanket, applying just the right amount of pressure to her lower back. She cried out, as her head fell to his shoulder, showering him with the silk of her hair.
"Yes, Booth, yes."
Wrapping her legs even tighter around his waist, she tried to add to the sensation, and he gasped loudly.
"So... in... love with you," he repeated, and his voice was dark with restrained passion.
"Don't hold back," she pleaded, "I won't break."
A primeval growl was her answer, and then he used both hand to lift her just a few inches before slamming back.
His mouth claimed hers, sucking her tongue between his teeth, and she pressed her eyes wide shut, as the first contractions took control of her body, as everything except for the fact that he was buried inside of her lost its importance.
And then she exploded. It was a rush of light and love and pain, and through her own ecstasy she could hear his soft scream. His body was quaking underneath her, and hot liquid shot into her core. As deep as ever possible.
They were one. In every scientifically impossible sense of the word.
Dawn had broken, when his brain switched on again, and Booth found a gracious little angel curled around his chest. The contrast between her dark hair and the white blanket that still covered her tugged at his unguarded heart, and her long lashed cast shadows on her rosy cheeks.
As if she sensed that he was watching her, her eyelids opened, greeting him with a new kind of blue. Light and infinite.
"Hi Baby," he offered with a weak smile, and she purred.
"We have to talk about your tendency to rename me sometime. But not now."
He chuckled, placing a tender kiss on top of her head.
"Feel free to rename me as well."
She shook her head, and her silky tresses tickled his nose.
"I like your name. It's you," she whispered.
"I like it when you say it."
"Booth... I still love you. I didn't say it because of a moment."
Her face was full of vulnerability and trust, and he straightened her disheveled hair with his palm, pushing the bangs out of her eyes.
"I know. You would never do that. And for the records, I still love you as well."
Kissing his smile away, she tried to peek at the alarm clock.
"It's almost half past seven."
He groaned but knew that she was right.
"That means we have to get up soon."
"There is a killer to find."
Her face clouded.
"I know. Bones, promise me one thing?"
"I cannot promise it before I know what it is."
"Tomorrow... I want to wake up next to you."
Tilting her head, she gnawed her lower lip.
"Okay," she finally whispered, "but you have to promise me something as well."
"Just the same, Booth, just the same."
A car horn was honking, a bird chirping. The city around them had woken up, and there was a death to take revenge for, a body to say goodbye to. Brennan knew that Booth was asking her not to run, not to take back what they had just shared. He knew that she was asking him to survive.
There are very few things certain in life. Death is one of them. But between birth and death, we have an unknown number of years to make the best of. To laugh, to dance, to feel the sunshine. And if we're very lucky, we might even find love, the most precious thing on earth.
The one that is worth every risk.
The one they had finally acknowledged.
Truth be told, I'm not sure if it really is the end. It feels whole, but I guess I could add a second chapter...