Brennan knew exactly where to find him, and she also knew he'd known she'd know.
And he was there. At the bar. Scotch in hand. Stiff and angry.
She knew he wasn't angry at her, yet she still felt a hint of anxiety about approaching him. Not fear—she never felt fear, unless it was fear of saying the wrong thing. Or worse…saying the wrong thing and having Booth comfort her…when all she wanted to do was comfort him.
Keeping silent, she slid into the barstool next to his. It was difficult with her rounded belly, but she managed. When the bartender handed her a water, she nodded and sipped, hardly even looking at Booth.
And they sat there for a few moments before Booth blew out a frustrated breath, tossed some bills to the bar and grabbed his leather jacket. He looked at her for a moment before he held out his hand.
Brennan wound her fingers in his and they walked the three blocks to his SUV. He didn't ask her if she'd driven, but it only spared her from telling him she'd hailed a cab. With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Brennan took them and then drove them both home.
He was silent the entire drive, all the way up the steps to their door and as they made their way to the kitchen. Brennan watched him peel his jacket and tie off, tossing them to the dining room table. She watched him lean his hands on the kitchen counter and she noted the way his knuckles were nearly white with pressure. His head fell between his shoulders, and the straight line of his back was tense from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist.
In public, she'd kept her distance, but in the privacy of their home, she wasn't able to keep away. Her arms circled around his waist, and she pressed her face to his back. "I'm sorry, Booth… I know how you feel."
"No, you don't," he tensed harder and stood up straight. He didn't move to step away from her, but didn't touch her except to place one hand on her hands. "You're lucky, Bones. Your dad actually gives a shit about you, and even if he made mistakes, it was because he loved you. Not because he felt like you were some inconvenient piece of garbage. You have no idea how I feel."
That stung, and Brennan bit her bottom lip as she removed her arms. She turned to walk away but Booth grabbed her and pulled her close. His eyes were pained and desperate and apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said immediately.
"Why did you say that?" she wanted to know.
Booth hissed in frustration. "I don't know. To get a rise out of you or something, I guess. It's just that… I don't want to be the only one who feels so fucking raw."
"You're not," she answered quickly and stared at his chest, placing her fingers gently against his shirt. "Every time you hurt, I feel awful."
"Bones," he barely murmured.
Then she met his gaze and leaned toward him. Both of them had eyes wide open as their lips met. "I love you," she told him before kissing him again. "Even if no one else in the world loves you, I do."
"Tell me," he begged. "Touch me," his voice grew pained. He knew he sounded nearly desperate, but he didn't care. He'd said he didn't want to be the only one feeling raw, but the truth was that he could survive the feeling, if she was there to soothe it.
Booth's head throbbed from alcohol, and his chest heaved with breath. But his heart relaxed and he pressed his forehead against hers, embarrassingly close to crying. He felt her fingers tangle in his and he let her lead them to their bed.
Their bed…
Comfort seeped into his skin as she pressed on his shoulders. Gently, she unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it from his shoulders and arms. She paused to leave soft kisses along one bicep before she pressed on his stomach and encouraged him to his back.
Booth watched as the woman he loved – the woman who loved him in return – bent down and peeled off his shoes and socks before reaching up and undoing his pants. She peeled them down his legs and off, letting them fall to the floor. Then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled, and he followed until they were both flat against the mattress, heads on the pillows. Her arms were still around him, and she just hugged him. He ran his hands all over her, desperate to feel something good…to feel her, with him, for him, all of it. She loved him. Even if no one else in the world loved him…she did.
"It's enough," he mumbled against her chest, already unbuttoning her blouse and peeling it away from her waistband. He nuzzled the pale curves of her breasts, lightly licking the satiny line of her bra. "You're enough for me, Bones. More than enough."
Their lips merged together as they continued to lazily strip one another until they were nothing but flesh against flesh, heartbeat against heartbeat. Brennan skimmed her fingers over his sides to his hips and then tucked herself beneath him, settling him between her thighs. "Love me, Booth," she whispered against his lips.
"Bones," he gasped, sinking into her in one perfect glide. "Oh, I love you."
"I know," she wrapped her arms and legs around him and took him in. She met his eyes and stared as his rhythm increased and soft guttural noises escaped his lips.
His day, his past, his fears for the future all dissipated as he found home in her…with her. He was grunting, he knew…not graceful or particularly sexy. But he felt the brush of her stomach against his, the soft press of her nipples against his chest, the firmer clasp of her hands on his shoulders, and the exquisite folding of her core along his shaft, and he was helpless to do anything but move, inside of her, over her… "Bones".
Suddenly, her fingernails bit into his skin, and he stared down at her, watching in amazement as her body flushed a gorgeous pink. Her eyes were blue flame, her lips parted in pleasure, and her orgasm rolled over her in slow and soft waves, coming to rest and lap around him. Her eyes drooped in sated satisfaction and with another gasping groan, he buried himself deeper, losing anything he had left inside her body.
His breath felt choppy, his heartbeat was frantic, and his mind whirled with sensation. But underneath and throughout it all, he felt safe in her arms. And he felt loved.