The tyres of Booth's car crunched on the gravel outside of Bones' apartment complex. He had no idea what was about to happen. Their conversation at her high school, the way she had spoken to him and been so open; it felt like it hadn't happened. Maybe it was shock. Maybe he couldn't believe it was true. To allow himself to believe...his body tensed like he was preparing for a siege.
A brief moment of quiet as he pulled into a bay and turned off the engine. His palms were sweating. He looked at her, saw her pensive eyes downcast at her knees, hands in fists on her lap. An icy curl unfurled in his chest, spreading rapidly.
"Will you stay?" Brennan asked. Her mouth tasted like copper.
The ice thawed. His smile rose, wide but comforting. It was like a sunrise in Brennan's mind.
"Of course I will," he unbuckled his seatbelt.
They walked in together, close, but not touching. Booth's heart thundered in his chest, every small movement she made drawing him in. She found her keys, unlocked her door, then looked up at him tentatively as she crossed the threshold knowing that once he followed, everything would change. He lingered momentarily, allowing her the chance to change her mind. She didn't. Her hand reached out, and he took it with a sigh of relief. She noticed, smiled bashfully, her face flickering with concern and doubt. One thought consumed her. One thought only, and she needed to find a way to voice it properly. She hoped it would come naturally, and soon.
He was holding her hand, Booth realised. Really holding it. They'd done this before, in moments when one or the other felt vulnerable and needed reassurance, but now their fingers were linked, and they weren't separating. He closed the door behind him with his heel, his go-bag slung over his shoulder. He watched as she dropped hers in the hall, promptly did the same, and then she led him down the hall into the open-plan living space. They separated, Booth leant against the counter while Brennan got beers from the fridge. Some things never changed. She was tired, he could see it. Or was she nervous? In between sorting their drinks, she fiddled with the dress she was wearing. It must have been new; deep blue with white polka dots, slim fitting and flawless on her. It seemed to irritate her. Brennan couldn't find a bottle opener, and realised that she didn't care. She looked back at Booth, deeply happy to find that he was already watching her; she felt her resolve snap, unable to find a natural segue into what she wanted to say. It wasn't a strength of hers anyway, it never had been.
"Thank you for staying," she said. It wasn't what she'd planned to say at all. How did she even begin?
"It's all good," Booth replied easily, noting how she'd given up on their drinks.
"Yeah?" Her voice was so soft that a memory flickered. The first time she'd saved his life, the very first time she'd killed somebody–he'd given her Jasper, that little toy pig, and told her that she'd be alright. He saw how her eyes rose to meet his, how her voice wavered in the same way and there was suddenly more space between them than Booth could bear.
He rounded the counter and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. She grabbed at him with the same urgency, face pressed into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply. Mirrored thoughts of loss, and further losses narrowly avoided, of opportunities and relief and love. Brennan still felt like she hadn't given enough. She needed to explain.
"I want you to kiss me," she started.
Booth's composure started to slip from his grasp.
"By that I mean that I want to be kissed by you. I won't push you away."
His expressions softened, "Bones..."
"No, please. Let me finish. I want you to know that I want to show you how I feel, but I've hurt you and I don't feel I have the right to cross that line." She spoke fiercely, hands spread on his chest. "I also don't want you to always be the one initiating, the one always giving and me taking-"
"Bones," he interrupted.
She waited, pulse escalating beneath his hooded gaze that she felt deep in her core. She exhaled shakily.
"Kiss me." Booth.
Every fantasy she'd ever had, paled. Reality merged with the impossible in the sound of his voice. Stunned, she clearly hesitated too long.
"I want you to kiss me," he reiterated quietly, inching closer. His hands cupped either side of her face and Brennan had never felt so safe and loved and wanted.
Complete silence as she pressed her lips to his. In that moment, they both began to heal. Slow at first, a reassurance, re-writing the same moment that had fractured them a week ago. Heat sparked and swept over Booth, groans escaping as her hands slid over his clothes, and into his hair. Her tiny gasping breaths between kisses pulled at the deepest parts of Booth that she'd never seen. She started to unravel in his arms, deepening the kiss and pushing against him. His hands strayed low on her hips, tugging on her skirt. A kiss had never felt so good. Neurons sparked with pleasure, with a feeling of the new and the familiar–the transition was a shock but also the most natural thing in the world. This wasn't their first kiss, more like their fourth, and Booth knew that they would keep falling together, over and over, until they never fell apart again.
He ran his hands through her hair, and they moved backwards, her back against the counter. A natural pause caused by the impact, and they stayed close, noses pressed together, their mouths a breath apart.
"I'm so sorry," Brennan said. Her thumb moved side to side across his cheek.
"It's okay. I understand." Booth. An undisputable smile shone in his voice. "I'm sorry, too."
A furrowed brow, "but you haven't done anything wrong."
"I pushed you too hard."
She shook her head, "I needed pushing. Otherwise, I don't...I don't do anything."
"That's not true," he stated.
He kissed her again before she could reply, committing her taste to memory. He felt her hand curl on his chest and his heart broke a little at the bittersweet memory. The pain faded quickly, overwhelmed by sensation, by relief and joy that she was being so honest. Booth broke away, struggling to get his breathing under control. They grinned, just like when Booth had pulled Brennan out of the ground after being abducted by the grave digger. It was almost that same feeling – renewal, a chance for more. Brennan leaned into their embrace, and together they stood in comfortable silence.
"This is gonna take some getting used to," Booth mused, more to himself than anyone else.
She sighed over his shoulder, "yes, I think it will."
He lowered his chin, burying his face in her hair. Suddenly feeling tight-lipped and emotional, he couldn't speak. She was here. She wanted him; she fought for him when he was willing to let her go. He wanted to say what she already knew, but worried it would be too much, too soon. She felt the change in his body and leaned away, seeing his clouded eyes, his stern expression. A gentle kiss on his lips, an affirmation. She raked over his complexion, found her need exploded in size the longer she looked – and allowed herself to feel what she felt, unbridled by shame.
"Stay. I need you to stay." She couldn't hide the desperation in her voice, a small part of her was embarrassed by her tone, but it's much larger counterpart shushed her. Words turned to kisses, eagerly returned by Booth. He could feel what he needed in her words and any kind of restraint ceased to exist.
"I love you – I'll stay. I promise, I'll stay." Sealed by an urgent kiss, "I'll always stay."
Caught perfectly between crying out and laughing, Brennan smiled through stray tears and felt her world change when she replied.
"I love you, too."
Booth kissed her immediately, heart racing, blocking his throat. No more words, just actions. Touches. Harsh breaths. Retreating to her bedroom, fumbling with buttons and zips. Pushing that blue and white polka dot dress off of her shoulders, mouth latching onto the pale skin that was revealed. He didn't know how to cope with the way she sounded as he trailed a line of kisses down her throat, down and over her collarbones. He couldn't stop the same pained noises coming from his mouth, like the shock that followed getting shot; agony rolled into a cold numbness, and then sprang back into flames that consumed every nerve ending in his body. He wanted to cry, to laugh, to scream, to kiss her, to melt away into nothing and then encompass everything all at once. He shuddered in delight as her hands worked their way down his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt with ease before loosening his belt. He could almost taste the tequila from their very first kiss, that same all-consuming excitement and desire at what was to come. Brennan pressed her lips just below his ear lobe, listening to his ragged breathing escalate as her hand slipped lower.
"Bones-" he gasped.
She smirked between kisses, "you're still going to call me that, even now?"
God, he wanted to have some sort of witty reply, but his brain had melted. All he could do was pant as her hand moved at an excruciatingly slow pace.
"...fuck."
"Well, that's not my name either, Booth."
Booth grinned breathlessly, bringing her back so he could kiss her. Long, open-mouthed kisses passed between them, the zip on Brennan's dress diving lower and lower until the garment slipped below her hips and pooled at her feet. His hands roamed back up the curve of her back, unclipping what needed to be unclipped. Bare chest against bare chest, things sped up to a near frenzy. Clothes were shed quickly, the ticking of an anxious clock pounding in both of their heads. He pulled her towards him, shuffling backwards, reclining on the bed with her straddling his hips. She was flushed, her lips pink and parted, her hair tousled – Booth stared, mesmerised by this new perspective.
"Have I done something wrong?" She asked quietly, noting the way he was looking at her.
"No." An immediate response, one that calmed her. "No, I'm just..." Booth struggled to find the words. "I just want you. I'm..."
Words wouldn't work. They couldn't. How could he possibly describe this moment and what it meant to him? He rolled them over, shifting her legs apart and running his hand down the line of her throat, down her sternum, over the soft swell of her stomach until he reached her core. She grabbed at him as his hands moved, touches so soft she could barely feel them, pulling at his hair when his mouth travelled in the same direction. Her hips rolled, sweat beading on her chest, eyes locked on the sight of Booth at the apex of her thighs. Pleasure spiked in her abdomen. Then, they were face to face, and so close that Brennan could feel him. Their hands clasped, their lips met again and Brennan whispered that she loved him in the space between. It came so easily that it took her by surprise, and so she said it again just to make sure.
His eyes met hers as he slipped inside her, kissing her as she gasped. Booth drank her in as the time passed. Every sensation uncovered the deepest parts of him that called him to move, to hold her close, to sweep her hair out of her eyes as they finally showed each other what they wanted. He couldn't hold back, and she couldn't cope if he did. They revelled in the closeness, in the heat and shivers that flashed and retreated, only to return the next time all the more powerful. Later, her hand slipped between them as Booth moved above, and she toppled first, driven on to new heights by the way he kissed her mouth during, as if to taste her pleasure on this tongue. A hand wound into his hair as she calmed, another pressing on his lower back, begging him not to slow or to stop. As if he could, now. He'd never felt closer to heaven than watching her release; knowing that the way she held him was fuelled by more than just lust and attraction, that the way he kissed her and interlocked their fingers as he chased his own release was his way of telling her that she made his world complete...it had been so long since making love had been part of his life. And, it had never been like this.
"I can't hold on much longer," he whispered harshly against her.
She rolled her hips, and then pushed his shoulder and climbed on top. Her hair fell on one side and she sank down. He hissed lowly.
"You don't need to hold on."
Booth groaned as she moved, one hand on his chest, the other cupping side of his head.
"Temperance...I...I don't want this to end."
She deepened her motions, faster, harder, her lip trapped between her teeth. "Oh, we're doing this again."
Maybe that was all he needed to hear. Temperance Brennan would not run from him after tonight. There would be more love making. There would be more of love, for them, between them – this shift in their partnership was permanent. She would not run. She would stay, just as he had.
He dragged her down, arms wrapping around her waist and he moved with her, faster, harder, allowing her gasps to feed his pleasure, to bring him up to his peak. The heat of her blazed, and the way she moved so fluidly with him pushed him over the edge, finally coming undone, cursing between kisses. They slowly came to a stop, hearts pounding. Brennan glowed, exhausted, overjoyed...in love.
Booth looked at her, and saw how her smile spoke of so much more than joy. He knew he liked this new perspective. He would make sure it stayed, too.
I hope you enjoyed the first narrative of this collection. Leave me a review? Doesn't have to be long, just a couple of words would be amazing 3
