Thank you for your kind words! So glad to know people are still out there and loving Bones.
II. Morning
Nights are dark, but people say, the darkest place is always before dawn.
Tonight, the darkness couldn't bother them, and no nightmares intruded their nocturnal embrace. They were as safe as two people can be with each other, and just after the darkest hour had passed and the first pink could be spotted in the skies, Booth opened his eyes to the sight of his partner holding him in sleep.
For a moment, time stopped and he was spellbound, but then the memories came flooding back. There had been sadness and pain, there had been comfort. He still felt raw somehow, but it was a brand-new day. He shifted until he was lying beside Brennan rather than using her as a pillow, studying her in the twilight of early dawn.
Her cheeks were rosy, her lips slightly parted. Unruly bangs were framing her face, and she was so beautiful that he could hardly breathe. Except that he could. In and out.
Lifting his hand, he brushed a few silky strands out of her face.
Booth knew that he loved her; loved her with every fiber of his being. He had known when he had promised to never let her fall, he had known when he had asked her to give this a shot. However, he had never seen it more clearly than right now.
Lowering his nose, he breathed slowly, inhaling her early morning scent, and then his lips caressed her cheeks, her eyelids. Just as he was wondering if he was overstepping his boundaries, he sensed movement underneath his lips.
Temperance Brennan was awake.
He paused for a moment, but when she didn't pull away, his lips brushed over her skin again. She sighed, so he did it once more, this time closer to her lips. And closer. And even closer until, finally, he could feel her mouth underneath his. Like rose petals, only warmer, he thought, but then she responded to his kiss, and every idea about roses left his mind.
Her lips opened, letting him in, and there was only Brennan.
There was Brennan in front of a shabby pool hall, tasting like tequila, Brennan with her arm in a sling and two forks, Brennan with a red bobble hat. There were Jasper the Pig, Smurfette and two becoming one. There were dances and lunches, days that had broken his heart and days that hadn't.
Without realizing it, Booth had rolled on top of her, burying her underneath his feelings, and she was still kissing him.
Because he might see their past and future, but so did she.
They were tangled in tenderness, as they finally broke apart, panting for air, and when he opened his eyes, he found her already looking at him; looking straight into him.
"I still want thirty, forty, fifty years," he finally managed to say.
"I know," came her reply, but this time it didn't sound sad, sounded sincere instead.
"But most of all, I want you, Bones. I want whatever you're willing to give. And if I can only have you in tiny pieces, I'll take them."
She laughed out, and it sounded so carefree, so young.
"You don't have to cut me into pieces."
He opened his mouth, but she silenced him with her full hand on his lips.
"I get it, Booth, everything you're saying. And you're right, nobody can promise forever, but," she shrugged adorably, "it still feels as if I could. That's probably enough for you, isn't it? Booth, I love you. You know that, right?"
He was speechless, was motionless as well, and finally she remembered to remove her hand from his mouth.
"Say something."
Holding her breath, she awaited his response, but then his lips crashed onto hers, and he was everywhere again, kissing her, touching her, feeling her. She could hear a sob, could hear laughter, and it could have been utterly confusing, except that it wasn't. It was messy and irrational and wonderful.
There were tears in his eyes, when he looked at her again, but they seemed to be happy tears, for there was a light on his face that she hadn't seen in a long time.
"I love you, Bones. So, so much. I have loved you for so long..."
Now it was her turn to sob, but he was there again, catching her and then some, and when he kissed her anew, it was gentler, slower.
Deeper.
He was kissing her with lips and tongues and hands, was soothing her just as much as he was arousing her, and it didn't take long until her whole body was humming pleasantly.
Her hands dove under his shirt, tugging not so gently at the superfluous garment, tugging until he had to laugh at her impatience. He helped her to strip off the shirt, and then her hands were flying over his skin, memorizing his structure. He was strong but smooth at the same time, and she couldn't stop looking at him because he was so damn perfect.
"Your structure..." she managed to utter before his kisses distracted her anew, and then she forgot about words altogether, as his hands made contact with her bare skin, cupping her breasts underneath her clothes.
"So beautiful," he said, and she nodded wildly.
"Yes. You!"
He laughed out, grazing her nipple with his rough thumb, eliciting a gasp.
"No, Bones. You."
Then he was the one tugging at her clothes, and after a few ungraceful moments of haste, they finally met each other skin to skin.
Ivory and bronze; reason and faith.
He pushed the covers aside to look at her in the first light of the new day, studying her with burning intensity until she had to avert her eyes in an uncharacteristic display of shyness. It was almost too much, his adoration, but at the same time, she wanted more and even more of it.
"I'm in awe," he finally said, and his voice was so dear and sincere that she dared to meet his eyes. Eventually, her lips curved up, and shyness vanished into thin air, as she stretched out in front of him.
"It's just a body," she said, but he laughed out, shaking his head while looking at her – a human piece of art splayed out on expensive linen.
"Believe me, Bones, there's nothing 'just' about your body."
His hand cupped her knee, and with infinite gentleness, he let his fingernails graze her skin. She shivered in response, and goosebumps appeared in the wake of his caress. So he did it again and again, did it until one bold finger traveled all the way up to the tender skin of her inner thigh. Even without touching her most private parts, he could feel her heat, and he inhaled deeply, responding to her on a level as old as mankind.
She surprised him by linking their fingers and guiding them straight to her center. He gasped, as she pushed his and her finger into her body, but so did she. All the blood in his system rushed southwards, and in an instant, he was harder than ever before.
"Bones! You're ruining my slow seduction," he complained, but he couldn't stop himself from touching her even deeper, and she pressed her pubic bone into his palm, creating friction and heat.
Pale blue eyes flew open, looking at him with innocence that shouldn't be possible to muster in a moment as sensual as this one.
"I couldn't wait," she simply said, and removing his finger out of her body cost him a lot of willpower, but then he was back on top of her, kissing her hard. Her legs opened for him, widened until he was settled right between her thighs, pressing against her in the most intimate way. Suddenly, he was crazy with needing her.
"Please?" she said, but he growled and buried his face in her neck, nibbling and tasting the delicate skin he found there.
Her hand moved between their bodies, encompassing his hardness, stroking firmly.
"I want more time," he uttered between licks and kissed, and then she used the strength of her legs to roll them around until she was sprawled out on top of him. Lifting her hand, Brennan palmed his cheek. He made eye contact, panting heavily.
"Booth... We have later today, tomorrow and all the time in the world. This is just the beginning. Do you understand?"
He looked at her, speechless for a moment, but then he nodded. She raised herself just a little, and his hands flew to her hips, supporting her. One moment, he was perfectly aligned, and just another heartbeat later, he was deep, so deep within her.
It was morning, but there were stars, as the connection between them flared to life.
Rolling her hips, she started to move, gripping him in the most intimate way; and he lost himself in her inch by sweet inch. She was so close, but still too far away. With his last ounce of strength, Booth brought himself into a sitting position with her on his lap. She shuddered, as he stroked even deeper into her body, and he wrapped his arms completely around her, but so did she.
And chest to chest, brow to brow, they started to move again.
The new position didn't allow for much room to move, but the penetration was deep and the angle perfect, as they were rocking back and forth, and back and forth, all the while holding each other in the tightest embrace.
And while their first time had been about forgetting, their second encounter was about remembering. Remembering the sharp intake of breath, when he sucked her earlobe between his teeth. Remembering the way his firm muscles rippled underneath her touch. Remembering the way she bit her lip, when her orgasm rolled over her; remembering his shuddering body, when he lost himself in her.
Remembering... until everything that was left was remembering how to breathe.
-BONES-
Over the course of their partnership, the course of their friendship, Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth had shared many meals. But never before had they shared the most intimate of them all, the breakfast of lovers. Spring sun shone in through half-opened windows, finding them seated side by side at her table. She was wearing a cream-colored robe, her hair still damp from her shower, he was clad in nothing but boxers. None of them could stop smiling, and they were stealing glances at each other over big and steamy coffee mugs.
In the previous two days, eating hadn't been on the forefront of their minds, and both of them had been famished. He had already polished off an omelet, she was making great progress with her fruit salad and together, they were working on a stack of pancakes. His were drowning in a sea of maple syrup, hers weren't, but every now and then, she took a piece of fruit and dipped it into the sticky sweetness on his plate.
"That's so delicious," she declared while chewing. "You should try it."
He shook his head.
"Fruit isn't breakfast food."
"I'm sorry that there wasn't any bacon in my fridge."
He laughed out, his eyes sparkling.
"No, you're not."
She shrugged, sporting a mischievous smile.
"You're right. Booth, your eating habits are... a challenge."
His laughter deepened, and he gestured towards her plate.
"Come on, feed me some healthy crap."
Her brow furrowed, as she pondered whether he was serious, but he had already opened his mouth. Not bothering with a fork, she just took a piece of cantaloupe between her fingers, guiding it to his lips. Booth surprised her by capturing her wrist, lowering her hand until the cantaloupe touched the maple syrup on his plate. When he lifted the piece of fruit to his mouth anew, sweet syrup was trickling down her fingers. He took the fruit with his teeth, chewing with relish. However, he didn't release her hand, and when the cantaloupe was swallowed, he began to lick every drop of sweetness from her fingers.
She inhaled sharply, as the raspy surface of his tongue slid over her skin.
When he released her, his eyes met hers, and they were as dark as coals. Her heart skipped a beat, her lips parted, and very deliberately, she covered her fingers with maple syrup, offering them to him once more.
This time, he sucked a whole finger into his mouth, his tongue swirling over her phalanges. When she moaned low in her throat, he released her with a plop before getting up from his chair beside her. She watched with heavy-lidded eyes how he pushed the plates and mugs on the tabletop aside, and before she could blink, he'd transferred her from her chair to the table.
"Oh," she breathed with parted lips, but then her fingers were back in his mouth, and he was sucking her in earnest.
Heat coiled low in her belly, and a rosy flush covered her cheeks. When he let go of her, Brennan leaned back on the table until she was propped on her elbows.
"That was tasty," he said, his voice raspier than usual.
"Cantaloupe," she managed to respond, and he chuckled.
"Yeah, the melon was okay as well. But I'm still hungry," he said, his eyes roaming over her body.
"There are still pancakes on your..."
He rolled his eyes, and tugged at the sash of her robe. It came undone on the first try, and his mouth watered at the sight of her breasts. Milky-white and dusky-pink. Without further delay, he bent down, closing his lips over one nipple.
"Oh... I understand," she managed to murmur, but then she lost every interest in coherent words, as his palm joined in, touching what he couldn't kiss. Her hands flew to his head, raking her fingers through his hair, and he spend long minutes worshiping her chest.
Her heart was racing, and he could feel it underneath his mouth. With every thump-thump, he needed more and even more of her. His lips traveled down her body, finding impossibly smooth skin, and Brennan gasped, as he reached her bellybutton, as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on it.
She could feel wetness pooling between her legs, and when his nostrils flared, she knew that he could smell her. It could have been embarrassing, but it wasn't, not with him, not anymore, and she let her thighs fall open without hesitation, letting him see her.
Soon, his lips reached the dark triangle of short curls, and he blew air over her most intimate area. She shivered. His fingers joined in, following the curve of her pelvic bone, teasing her until she writhed on the table, and just when she thought that now, now – he stopped.
He stopped to take in the miracle of her so open and wanton in front of him, spread out on their breakfast table on a Saturday morning in April.
She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing more than his name tumbled from her lips, because finally, finally, he made contact. The flat of his tongue licked her once, twice from bottom to top, learning the taste of her, before focusing on her hard bundle of nerves. He growled, and the vibration so intimately close to her most sensitive spot sent a rush of heat through her system. The he sucked her straight into his mouth, and she was falling without safety net.
Her head hit the tabletop, and her hands were looking for some kind of anchor, anything. Her left hand curled around the edge of the table, and her right hand found his, squeezing hard.
It was too much, the need he unleashed, almost too much.
He lifted his head, linking his hand with hers, brushing her fingers.
"You okay?"
Yeah, was she? This was intense and scary, but it was also amazing and Booth.
"I'm adjusting," she whispered, and he inhaled a shuddered breath, placing a tender kiss on the inside of her thigh. And another one.
"You want me to stop?"
"No."
He was back in an instant, licking and sucking, but the pace he set was slower than before, allowing her time to let it build. His right hand joined in, caressing her in unison with his kisses, caressing her until her thighs began to tremble. He sank two long fingers into her just as his tongue rasped over her clit, and she lost it, coming apart almost violently underneath his hands and lips.
One second later, his boxers were pushed down, and without further delay, he palmed her thighs and entered her in one long stroke.
"Oh God," she gasped, utterly defenseless against the renewed onslaught of sensations.
"Sorry, I couldn't wait, hope this is okay." The words tumbled as one single line out of his mouth, and then her hands were on his face, pulling him in for a kiss. He tasted like her, so intimately, and on the wings of her first orgasm, another one was already building.
"It's okay, more than okay, always, Booth."
His rhythm was raw and lacking any finesse, but she didn't care, didn't care at all. With legs crossed behind his back, she held him firmly in place, as he was thrusting into her. It was only their third time, but already the feeling of him inside of her was familiar. Something fluttered low in her belly, as the realization hit her.
"Bones," he gasped, his face buried in her hair, and she clutched him even tighter, opened her legs even wider.
"Come for me," she whispered into his ear, and he howled, as he followed her command, tumbling over the edge and taking her with him.
Crashing on top of her and right next to lukewarm coffee and pancakes.
-BONES-
Morning has broken like the first morning, a song says. It's well known, this song. Most of the people can hum it, almost everybody knows the first line, but few, very few people can sing along till the end.
Sometimes a first line is enough, though, because... imagine the feeling.
Morning has broken.
Like the first morning.
To be continued...
Actually, I have no idea if "The Hole in the Heart" is followed by a weekend, but I don't care. For this story, it is.
