Title: THE KISS – BONES
Author: omelette73
Rating: K
Spoilers/Timeline: present
Disclaimer: Bones = not mine at all.
Summary: a series of one-shots about Booth & Bones & kissing...
Thanks to: Crisssbit, as always and Forensicmama, I couldn't write this without your precious support.
Author note: Sorry if I made mistakes, but you have to be gentle. English isn't my mother-tongue! Reviews are always welcome!
She noticed the wall behind her shoulders only when Booth helped her to lean against it.
And she was grateful. For the wall. Not Booth.
What she felt for Booth at the moment was not exactly gratitude.
Confusion instead.
Now excitement, but only because he was nibbling her earlobe.
Why Booth was doing this was another issue, and she was not able to face it at the moment.
And it was weird.
Because the answers were her field. She always found the answers.
So... Booth was kissing her because...
Nothing.
Blackout.
No, not exactly blackout. Indeed she was able to see. And very well after all.
She was able to see his eyes cloud over with passion, his hands laid on the wall, trapping her. She was able to see the alley where they were and the SUV, parked not far from them. She was even able to see his fiery red tie, the one with the white palm. So it meant that she was able to see.
No blackout. It was a good thing that she was able to fix this point.
Her senses were responding well to the stimulation... yep, stimulation was the right word. She was a writer after all; she was always able to find the right words.
But she was inspecting her senses.
Sight. OK.
Touch. Judging from the sensation she was feeling touching his pectoral muscles, touch was also OK.
Hearing. She was listening to him whispering her name in her ear between one kiss and another, so she was able to hear. No doubt.
Smell. She smelled his aftershave…how it could be different with her nose in the hallow of his neck, and also... his scent. Yes, what she was smelling was Booth's scent. Booth's indistinguishable scent. So smell was OK.
Taste. At present this was the one creating the problem, but simply because it was involved the most. She was able to feel his taste in her mouth and it was so exciting that she was quite overwhelmed.
There, now she remembered why she was grateful for the wall. It was supporting her, preventing her from falling to the ground.
It was a good thing, the wall.
Not as good as his lips, obviously.
Anyway a good thing.
And here again, his taste. If she was able to describe it – she was a good writer, had she already mentioned the fact? – she would say that he tasted like coffee and even a bit of cinnamon. Perhaps it was 'cause of the pie.
He always ate pie.
She decided that, after all she didn't care about the reason why he was kissing her, in an alley, near the SUV that she was able to see not far from them.
That fact was enough for her.
"Stop thinking, Bones," he said, moving away from her.
"How could you possibly know that I'm thinking?," she asked, annoyed.
"I feel it."
"You can't feel my thoughts, Booth. It's scientifically impossible."
"OK, Bones."
"Are you saying that just to shut me up?"
"Yes, Bones," he said and he assaulted her mouth again and, actually, she was silent.
With her own thoughts.