AN: This is kind of an odd duck of a story that popped in my head for goodness knows what reason, but mostly because I take great amusement in awkward situations. I'm a sadist of the jolliest type. If nothing else, may it elicit a smile.
I gave up Bones ownership for Lent.
He hardly registered the sound of the shower as he stumbled into the hotel bathroom, brain still addled by sleep. He didn't quite pick up on the steam permeating the room as he began to tug his boxers down for his ritualistic "first and most glorious piss of the day". And he definitely wasn't aware of his very startled partner's face popping out from a gathered side of shower curtain.
That said, it is unnecessary to state that he didn't notice her mouth drop in shock, then snap shut, only to open once more to speak.
"Booooth...?" It was slow, drawn out; her logical, questioning side having won over her jumpy and emotional one before the latter caused her to yell out. Of course, when he didn't seem to notice...
"BOOTH! What the HELL are you doing?!"
Obviously enjoying my first most glorious-- oh. Shit. His eyes grew wide as he slowly began to realize what he'd done. Though his brain said 'speak', it did not provide him with words; not that it much mattered as the disconnect between said brain and his vocal chords prevented any sound from being made. His brain reeled, and he hastily grabbed a towel off the rack in front of him to block her view. Eyes still wide with terror and unable to speak, his thoughts ran over the last few minutes as they came to rest on a single point: How much had she seen? Naturally, the next line of thought went something like this. God, I'm such an idiot. How long was she watching? Did I do anything abnormally inappropriate? Did she see? I mean, really, how long... did she like what she saw? Heh, heh, bet you did, didn't you, Bo-- oh, shit.
It has been said that thinking tends to lead to trouble. It was, in this case, no different. At the thought of his lovely partner and dearest friend admiring his reproductive organs, he promptly began to feel a sudden constricting tingle in the aforementioned... organs. Organs, he thought in a panic, that are otherwise occupied.
Think happy thoughts.... think happy-- Bones!! NO. Not that happy. Okay... sad. Upsetting. Somber. Gormogon. Okay, tragic, then. Epps. Epps... Cam. Woah, no. Epps... Cam... Line. Oh, the line. Think about the line. Line, with a capital L-I-N-E. Damn. Damn the line. Damn... This isn't helping. And she's still looking... oh. I haven't answered her.
"Well?"
Well? WELL? Suddenly everything focused. Sort of. Focus, right.
"Uhh, hey... Bones, hey. Uhh... good morning! Guten Tag!! Uhh... I, uh... I didn't... didn't realise... "
The the pitiful puddle of focus he had worked so hard to amass then shattered at the small upturn the corners of his partner's mouth then made, visual proof of her growing amusement. That little minx. You think that's funny, do you, Bones? Heh. Funny bones. Heh. I'll show-- oh, no. If he were still a betting man, he'd have been all over the odds of his situation becoming grievously worse in a very near future. The tightening sensation he had been previously experiencing in his groin suddenly multiplied, which wouldn't be so bad if not for it's accompaniment by an audible disturbance in the stream of his "first and most glorious piss of the day". Which, he thought, is fast losing it's glory.
Her expression changed then; eyebrows raised and mouth pulling wider, and he knew she had noticed. Well, that only made it worse. At that, what had already slowed to a trickle dripped twice and ceased entirely, and a small look of panic washed across his face. Not done, not done!! Dammit. Her eyebrows raised even further, and her sardonic half-smile grew into a (very rare) goofy grin.
"Well, Bones... I, uh... I'mma just... I'll go... take-- do... this, err, elsewhere."
With that, he slowly and carefully made his retreat; towel still suspended in front of him, held gingerly so as to cover a much different shape than he had grabbed it for initially. He backed out of the bathroom, all but tiptoeing, hoping very desperately that if he were quiet enough she might just forget this, soon.
As the door slid silently closed, Brennan stood frozen for at least a second more, brain whirring to catch up with what happened. Slowly and deliberately, she moved back into the shower, musing to herself rather ruefully the entire time.
I think I've had this fantasy once or twice.
Cheers.