A/N: I actually wanted to have uploaded this days ago, but I just couldn't find the time or motivation to write and it annoys me immensely. My depression took a toll on me, but now I'm in a better phase again. Well, nevermind, Spotify Song Radio spat out „What's Love Got To Do With It" (Kygo & Tina Turner) and dude, did no one ever notice that the lyrics could have been written by Brennan herself?!

Set after 5x17, hurt, smutty, and an emotional Booth on top, because… sexy… :P If you're under 18, please close your eyes, it's M rated. And please tell me what you think!

Brennan tossed and turned in her bed, trying to convince herself that it wasn't love that got her all tingly when Booth gave in and held her close to the sounds of that song. It wasn't love that caused her heart to skip a beat when he put his hand in the small of her back so tenderly. She was a scientist. She did not have an open heart like him and she couldn't change. Love had nothing to do with the fact that his scent alone made her dizzy. It was just logical. Could be explained by science. Pheromones. Of course she reacted to his closeness - it was a normal physical reaction. One, that she had experienced several times before when other men had touched her.

Had she?

There was Mark. Mark who could hold his breath for three minutes… under water… But somehow, she never got scared by her feelings when she was around him. It was sex. Just that. There was Michael. At first, she felt excited about their relationship because it was a broken taboo. And there really was nothing more to it.

There was Sully. Sully. What she felt with Sully came close to her feelings towards Booth, but still not quite. In the end, the tingling sensations were too faint to take a toll on her rationality. See, just pheromones. Simple logic. Booth, always one step ahead of her, was there to comfort her.

Her mind took a leap. What if Booth had asked her to sail away with him?

NoNoNoNo! There goes the self protection… Lying to herself was pointless. If Booth had asked, she would have said yes.

Frustrated with that revelation, she turned one last time and tried to finally get some sleep.

On the other side of the hallway, Booth was lying in his bed. In his separate room. Sleep wouldn't come and he got angrier with every second that passed.

In that particular moment, it felt good. Right. Softened by her tears, he could not deny her anything. But retrospectively, it was nothing but a nicotine patch. Something he needed, but could not quite have in the way he wanted, needed, it. He was a sucker for pain, a pathetic masochist. It was his own fault because he allowed himself to actually enjoy holding her. He wanted to mentally dissociate himself from that moment, but it was just not possible. He inhaled the flowery scent of her soft hair, felt her body so close to his and he could do absolutely nothing about falling for her all over again.

She clearly had no idea what she did to him, to his feelings. She still had wanted to be partners - he gave in, let her have that one - knowing he would get hurt. He had wanted some physical distance - wasn't allowed to have it. And now there he was, all worked up and frustrated, annoyed by her bare existence.

You cannot sleep while being stared at. There had to be a very simple anthropological explanation for that fact, but she didn't care to find it. Her body surrendered to the reflex and she sat upright in bed. Her breath hitched, the tiny hairs in her neck stood upright - warning her about imminent danger. Her eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness and when she was able to focus, she found him leaning against the doorframe. His eyes glistened with moonlight. Two dark orbits focussed only on her.

"Booth…"

That was all she managed to breath. He cut her off before she could ask for the reason of his late-night visit. His tone was calm and decisive, his voice quiet and deep.

"I've had it, Bones. It's enough. You play me like a fiddle. You don't want me in your heart but you don't want me to stay away from you either. You push me away when I kiss you, but you pull me close when we dance. Tell me, Temperance, why do you always get to do what you want? I can't take no more."

"What? Why are you here, Booth?"

"You know that." He didn't move, just leant casually against the wooden doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

Her breathing was shallow, her senses on high alert when he suddenly moved away from the entrance and approached her like a wild animal. Slowly, determined, ravenous.

"Tell me to stop."

A challenge… Brennan heard the anger in his voice and tried to figure out if she was actually awake or if she was caught in sleep paralysis while her mind was playing tricks on her.

Booth shook his head slightly and chuckled.

"See, Bones, you even want me to do this, don't you? You do want my body. You want me all over you, around you, inside you, but you just don't want me inside your heart. Now tell me to stop…"

He stared into her eyes - raging ferocity met bewilderment. His angry glare tore down her defenses to find fear and arousal underneath.

"Time's up, Temperance."

He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor, lost all his inhibitions as he closed the distance between them and crawled on top of her. Completely on autopilot, Brennan gasped and succumbed to his dominance as she lay down and his mouth claimed hers. No hesitation, no shyness, no tenderness. Just lust. Raw, relentless, wet and hot. His tongue explored her mouth while he moved his hand up to run his fingers trough her hair. He made a tight fist, holding her painfully in place. Brennan hissed in response, digging her fingernails deep into his shoulders.

He didn't feel any pain. Felt nothing. Nothing but possessiveness and injured pride. That last ounce of control he tried to keep left his brain as he felt her kissing him back. She proved his thesis: She wanted this. A new wave of anger washed over him, paired with sadness and nostalgia. She wanted this - but nothing more.

With his other hand he freed her body from the sheets before he made short work of her tank top. The process of undressing her for the first time - he had always imagined it to be a ceremonial act of tender discovery, a sacred revelation. But now, it was just an annoying necessity to get what he wanted. Where he wanted. He found her nipples taut and sensitive in the agony of waiting for him to touch them.

Brennan squirmed under him as his mouth moved across her body, not too gently at all. He pinched and nipped and bit her, leaving marks all over her, taking what should have been his all along.

She felt his raging erection through his sweatpants against her thigh, but when her hand moved down to relieve some of the pressure, he just slapped her away and pinned her wrist over her head.

"You already had your fun with me, Bones. It's my turn, don't you think?"

But she couldn't think. The ability to form any coherent thought disappeared as his lips peppered her breasts with hot kisses, leaving a hickey here and there. All rationality left her brain as his mouth roamed her upper body and stopped just above the waistband of her panties.

No, she never had felt this wanted in her entire life. His breath tickled her inner thigh as he hooked his fingers under the fabric and removed her underwear in one swift motion. A deep aggressive growl escaped his throat as his gaze wandered over her bare body, his reward. She felt like his prey, a deer in the headlights, unable to move. He towered over her, the evidence of his desire for her hard and visible beneath the fabric of his pants. Brennan studied the flex of his muscles as he moved, his bronzed skin glowing smoothly in the soft twilight. She admired how his well trained abs and pecs shaped his body and created that steeled hunk of a man. As her eyes roamed him, she felt her own desire growing steadily, wet and slick between her legs.

Pheromones. Pheromones. Pheromones. Opposites attract. Love had nothing to do with it.

Her gaze lingered on the scar on his chest. He got it for her. Caught that bullet, willing to give his life for her. Brennan almost lost it then and there - too many sensations flooded her rational scientist-brain. Reacting to the change he saw in her stormy eyes and knowing what caused it, Booth grabbed her hips and pulled her closer and into a better angle. One hand held her firmly in place, the other freed his throbbing erection from his pants. A sharp hiss, a low lustful moan. He entered her, pushed himself inside her to the hilt without warning. He felt her muscles clench around him as she arched her back in surprise.

"Booth…"

Never had he heard her saying his name in a voice like that: high-pitched, breathy, pleading. He didn't know if she was pleading for him to stop or to continue and his eyes rolled back in frustration.

The ambivalence of his emotions nearly overwhelmed him. His head was clouded with messy thoughts and memories of them together, deep affection burnt him from the inside out. Her scent made him delirious, the look in her eyes took away his breath. He loved her, Lord was his witness, unconditionally and for all eternity.

He hated her for throwing herself at him in one second and pulling back the other. He hated her for being with Mark and with Sully and with Michael and all those idiots when she knew deep down inside, he was the one for her. Her devoted bodyguard, her best friend, her family. The one who would always be waiting, the one to protect her.

One protector he was, intruding and nearly ravishing her in the middle of the night. Suddenly, Booth felt bad, so very bad. He sighed. Hanging his head in shame, he looked to where they were connected so intimately. That first moment of being together like this, it should have looked entirely different. He always imagined it to be the highest form of love making. Tender, careful, easy. Instead, he was committing a sacrilege. He noticed the burning feeling in his eyes and couldn't prevent some tears from falling onto her belly.

She never saw a man cry before. And she never expected a man to cry in a situation like this. His tears, wet and cold on her flushed skin, caught her by surprise. His hands let go of her hips and he was about to pull out and move away from her, when she suddenly wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer and even deeper. Blindsided by her quick move, he tumbled and landed on top of her. Being so close to her, cradled by her body, he surrendered to his tears as she clung to him as if she was holding on for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Bones." His voice was barely a whisper in her ear, raspy and full of sorrow.

She hadn't anticipated her reaction to him being so vulnerable after he intruded into her room, driven by anger and passion. But the words he once said to her seemed to have gotten through to her: brain in neutral, heart in overdrive.

This. This was different than anything she ever shared with other men. Holding him felt so natural, comforting him was easy. Her heart ached for him, for his misery. Love. It was no longer just a second-hand emotion - something that was just familiar to her because she saw it in other people's life. With his tears running over her neck and shoulder, with his skin so close to hers, with him it became a first-hand experience.

"Don't be. There's nothing to forgive. You are right. With everything you said, except for one or two things. I didn't know how you felt about me for all that time. What I have done to you… I didn't do it deliberately and it wasn't fun. I don't want you to hurt but I don't know how to do better. I just don't know."

By now she couldn't tell if the dampness on her skin was still caused by his tears or hers.

"I wish I could promise you all those years. I wish I could promise to love you forever but I'm scared. I'm scared by what I feel for you because I never felt that way before."

Taken aback by her words, Booth held his breath. Did she just confess to feel love for him?

His response was nonverbal. He propped himself up on his forearms and kissed the tears from her face while he started to move inside her - slowly and cautiously, making up for his earlier wrong, salvaging his misguided mission. His lips brushed over hers ever so softly and she responded in kind as his tongue sought hers. He swallowed her murmurs and small moans, reveling in her need for him, in her love for him.

She met each thrust with her hips, left a trail of sultry kisses from his ear to the crook of his neck as she felt the puffs of his hot breath condensing on her skin.

Surrogate relationship. That's what Sweets had called their partnership. Ha was right, and yet so wrong. Booth wasn't a surrogate. Everyone and everything before him had been.

Heat exploded deep in her belly, shot through her veins and rushed through her limbs as she came apart under him and when those three words fell almost inaudible from her lips, it undid him. They rode the waves of their mutual pleasure, their fulfilled destiny, together. Unisono.

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, Booth still mostly on top of her, listening to her calming heartbeat. Brennan had her arms wrapped tightly around him as she rolled them over and snuggled against his chest.

"What's going to change, Booth?"

"Nothing…" He stared at the ceiling, stroked her soft skin and thought about what he said for a moment before he added: "… and everything."

"That is illogical, Booth."

"No, Bones, it isn't. We're still partners.I'll still look out for you, you'll do the same for me. We'll have lunch together and I'll pick you up in the morning and hang out in your office to annoy the crap outta you. You're going to correct me when I mispronounce your scientific mumbo jumbo, I'll help you out when you're too literal. We'd still kill or die for each other. This is us. We're good together. Nothing's gonna change about that."

Her fingers drew circles and patterns on his skin. Languidly, caressing.

"And what does change?"

He wrapped his arms even tighter around her. "I'll kiss you when I pick you up in the morning. I'll hold your hand when we're going to the diner. I'll pull you close when you're annoyed. I'll silence you with a kiss when you correct me. At night we don't have to go to our separate places. I can stay at your place, you at mine. I'd die for you - not anymore under the pretense of our partnership, but because I love you. Openly. You'd kill for me because you love me. And we'll go home and fall asleep while the TV is still running and the beer gets warm on the coffee table, and when you wake me in the middle of the night and tell me to go to bed because the couch is bad for my back, I'll make love to you. Over and over again."

With that, he kissed her on the top of her head and sighed, content and happy.

Brennan chuckled in his arms.

"You seem to have put a lot of thought into that."

"Yeah Bones… I did."

"My trust in you is evidence enough for me. I still don't feel comfortable with promising you 30 or 40 or 50 years, but I promise you tonight. And tomorrow. I'll always promise you tomorrow, Booth. Can you live with that?"

She propped herself up and met his brown eyes, reassuring and warm, beaming with delight.

"That's more than I ever dared to hope for, Temperance." His whisper was warm against her mouth. An open invitation to melt into him once more, one she gladly accepted.