AN: I have no idea where this came from. It is, by the way, the closest thing to smut I will probably ever write.
Wrong
This is wrong. Every neuron in your brain screams "Stop! Think!" You try to listen, but their cries are drowned out by every bone, muscle, and nerve ending in your body ordering you to do the exact opposite. To stop thinking about the consequences. To stop trying to analyze every second. To close your eyes and just let him… have you.
You really should stop, you know. Nothing stays the same after sex. Nothing. And you've never been good with change, especially when the thing changing is as important as your friendship with him. What if you wake up tomorrow and he can't look you in the eye? Or he smiles at you, and you don't feel anything? What if you discover that this is all a fluke; that the attraction you were so sure was there didn't really exist?
What if this isn't worth it?
But as he places kisses slowly down your neck, and your fingers grab hold of the sheet below you, you know that there's no turning back now. Your head falls back against your pillow, and your brain shuts down, letting only one final coherent thought hit you. It comes out as a sigh.
"Booth…"