It's Like A Million Little Stars Spelling Out Your Name (1/1) - A Bones Fic.
Title: It's Like A Million Little Stars Spelling Out Your Name.
Author: billpickle
Rating: PG
Pairing: BB
Word Count: 1,011
Spoilers: 5x06's The Tough Man in the Tender Chicken
A/N: Dear BP. You should not be writing fic at midnight when you have to get up at 4 in the morning, okay? Not good. Not good at all. Title comes from the Taylor Swift song Untouchable. And if you haven't already please be reading this by _missmargaret_, it kinda definitely steals your heart a little bit.
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Bones. Nor the characters associated with the show. Who are my family, ps.
Summary: He's stuttering now and suddenly he wants out of this conversation. He wants to go back to the part where she was just looking at him with that beautiful smile of hers, her hands mindlessly playing with the fabrics around his wrist. He wants that back. He wants to rewind time, that is, until-
He is flirty smiles and I'm so in love with you, Bones gazes throughout the entirety of their drinks. (His is coke and rum while hers is red wine). She is more handsy with him than she's ever been since they've known each other and he finds himself wondering if there's some kind of hidden meaning to be found underneath there somewhere.
Like, does she want him to kiss her tonight or something?
He knows he wants to.
And the way she's looking at him...
God, does he ever want to.
They're talking about non-sensical things like possible names for Angela's pig (“I like the name, Bacon.” / “Bacon? Why would you name a pig, Bacon? That's just cruel.” / “Like I said, Bones. I like Bacon. And no, it's not cruel. I think it's kinda cute, actually. It's like naming a cow, Milkshake.”) and the colour and brand of tie she's going to buy him to replace the one they had ruined earlier together. (“You don't have do that, Bones. I have lots of ties, you know. What's one tie gone, gonna do?”)
They've been smiling to their heart's content the whole night. And it's on the seventh or eighth smile when her arm finds its way to his again (The first time was the first, he thinks and it was on the outside of his actual wrist). He swears. Now she's just finding ways to touch him and make him go crazy in the process. And he knows too well that if this doesn't stop sometime soon, there's gonna be a point where he isn't going to be able to hold himself back any longer.
“Bones?” It feels like the first word he's said in ages. Maybe it has been.
“Hmmm?” She's sipping her wine.
“How do you know?” He knows it's not enough words. That when it comes to her, you need to give more in order to get more. But he can't help but wonder what she'll do with it. Will she ask him what it means or will she simply answer what it is she thinks he's asking her?
When, come to think of it, what that is? He isn't even sure anymore.
“How do I know what, Booth?”
There's his answer.
“That I like brown sugar on everything... That even at half-speed, I'm still twice as fast as anyone else you know... That- that I'm gonna be okay and that... I'm gonna get back to where I was before all this..." Hand gestured circles linger between them as he pauses, mid-thought. “How do you know all of that?”
“I don't.”
“But- but you just said all that... stuff, Bones.” He's stuttering now and suddenly he wants out of this conversation. He wants to go back to the part where she was just looking at him with that beautiful smile of hers, her hands mindlessly playing with the fabrics around his wrist. He wants that back. He wants to rewind time, that is, until-
“Yeah, I did. But that's because I know you and I know that you don't give up.”
“Bones.”
“You didn't give up on me. You don't give up on everyone else. And even if you try- even if you try to give up on yourself, I won't let you.”
“Bones...”
“No, Booth. You're gonna be fine. Anything less than that isn't even a possibility anymore. Not to me.”
She sounds, not like the Bones he admires and loves with his whole heart, but there's no denying that, that's exactly who she is.
That's exactly who she is.
It only takes a moment from then, for him to decide to leap. His hand lands on her arm, and he leans in with a soft grin, gently pressing into her lips with his own. It's soft and warm and he's drowning. In her eyes, in her heat, in her taste and in her.
He starts to pull away, but there she is, moving with him.
And there are sparks sent coursing through his gradually heating body, telling him that she wants this too. That they're both desperate for this contact and the ways in which they make each other feel, and how they never want it to end. Ever.
They pull away in sync and are recovering breaths, forehead to forehead. She's wearing a lovely smile and he's helpless in resisting to kiss her quickly again. She grasps his shoulders this time, while his hands roam her body intrepidly. Eventually, they find smooth skin, and it's the kind he knows he could never grow tired of touching. He knows that because it's hers.
She murmurs something against his lips that he pretends not to hear. He finds comfort in the fact that whatever she's trying to say doesn't quite sound like stop and that her hands are still kneading his flesh firmly.
She feels good. Inside his arms, just like this. And if he had his way, he'd wake up in a position remotely similar to this, tomorrow morning.
A little taste of heaven. Yeah, that's what that would be.
His hands slide down to her waist, and he thinks they really need to stop kissing, because if they keep this up, he's never going to be able to walk straight. And, everytime and anywhere he sees her, he's going to want to do nothing but be with her and be like this.
Her hands are brushing up against his unshaven morning scruff, cupping his chin, when they eventually do part.
At the moment, no words need to be said. And he finds that he's okay with that.
He kisses her cheek before helping her thread her arms through the sleeves of her coat. Once he's gotten her all buttoned up, he turns, puts his own jacket on and twirls around to face her again.
“Bones?”
“Hmmm?”
“I trust you too, you know.”
And with a smile, he tugs on her hand and pulls her with him as they step outside and are underneath the stars.
/FIN.
Author: billpickle
Rating: PG
Pairing: BB
Word Count: 1,011
Spoilers: 5x06's The Tough Man in the Tender Chicken
A/N: Dear BP. You should not be writing fic at midnight when you have to get up at 4 in the morning, okay? Not good. Not good at all. Title comes from the Taylor Swift song Untouchable. And if you haven't already please be reading this by _missmargaret_, it kinda definitely steals your heart a little bit.
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Bones. Nor the characters associated with the show. Who are my family, ps.
Summary: He's stuttering now and suddenly he wants out of this conversation. He wants to go back to the part where she was just looking at him with that beautiful smile of hers, her hands mindlessly playing with the fabrics around his wrist. He wants that back. He wants to rewind time, that is, until-
He is flirty smiles and I'm so in love with you, Bones gazes throughout the entirety of their drinks. (His is coke and rum while hers is red wine). She is more handsy with him than she's ever been since they've known each other and he finds himself wondering if there's some kind of hidden meaning to be found underneath there somewhere.
Like, does she want him to kiss her tonight or something?
He knows he wants to.
And the way she's looking at him...
God, does he ever want to.
They're talking about non-sensical things like possible names for Angela's pig (“I like the name, Bacon.” / “Bacon? Why would you name a pig, Bacon? That's just cruel.” / “Like I said, Bones. I like Bacon. And no, it's not cruel. I think it's kinda cute, actually. It's like naming a cow, Milkshake.”) and the colour and brand of tie she's going to buy him to replace the one they had ruined earlier together. (“You don't have do that, Bones. I have lots of ties, you know. What's one tie gone, gonna do?”)
They've been smiling to their heart's content the whole night. And it's on the seventh or eighth smile when her arm finds its way to his again (The first time was the first, he thinks and it was on the outside of his actual wrist). He swears. Now she's just finding ways to touch him and make him go crazy in the process. And he knows too well that if this doesn't stop sometime soon, there's gonna be a point where he isn't going to be able to hold himself back any longer.
“Bones?” It feels like the first word he's said in ages. Maybe it has been.
“Hmmm?” She's sipping her wine.
“How do you know?” He knows it's not enough words. That when it comes to her, you need to give more in order to get more. But he can't help but wonder what she'll do with it. Will she ask him what it means or will she simply answer what it is she thinks he's asking her?
When, come to think of it, what that is? He isn't even sure anymore.
“How do I know what, Booth?”
There's his answer.
“That I like brown sugar on everything... That even at half-speed, I'm still twice as fast as anyone else you know... That- that I'm gonna be okay and that... I'm gonna get back to where I was before all this..." Hand gestured circles linger between them as he pauses, mid-thought. “How do you know all of that?”
“I don't.”
“But- but you just said all that... stuff, Bones.” He's stuttering now and suddenly he wants out of this conversation. He wants to go back to the part where she was just looking at him with that beautiful smile of hers, her hands mindlessly playing with the fabrics around his wrist. He wants that back. He wants to rewind time, that is, until-
“Yeah, I did. But that's because I know you and I know that you don't give up.”
“Bones.”
“You didn't give up on me. You don't give up on everyone else. And even if you try- even if you try to give up on yourself, I won't let you.”
“Bones...”
“No, Booth. You're gonna be fine. Anything less than that isn't even a possibility anymore. Not to me.”
She sounds, not like the Bones he admires and loves with his whole heart, but there's no denying that, that's exactly who she is.
That's exactly who she is.
It only takes a moment from then, for him to decide to leap. His hand lands on her arm, and he leans in with a soft grin, gently pressing into her lips with his own. It's soft and warm and he's drowning. In her eyes, in her heat, in her taste and in her.
He starts to pull away, but there she is, moving with him.
And there are sparks sent coursing through his gradually heating body, telling him that she wants this too. That they're both desperate for this contact and the ways in which they make each other feel, and how they never want it to end. Ever.
They pull away in sync and are recovering breaths, forehead to forehead. She's wearing a lovely smile and he's helpless in resisting to kiss her quickly again. She grasps his shoulders this time, while his hands roam her body intrepidly. Eventually, they find smooth skin, and it's the kind he knows he could never grow tired of touching. He knows that because it's hers.
She murmurs something against his lips that he pretends not to hear. He finds comfort in the fact that whatever she's trying to say doesn't quite sound like stop and that her hands are still kneading his flesh firmly.
She feels good. Inside his arms, just like this. And if he had his way, he'd wake up in a position remotely similar to this, tomorrow morning.
A little taste of heaven. Yeah, that's what that would be.
His hands slide down to her waist, and he thinks they really need to stop kissing, because if they keep this up, he's never going to be able to walk straight. And, everytime and anywhere he sees her, he's going to want to do nothing but be with her and be like this.
Her hands are brushing up against his unshaven morning scruff, cupping his chin, when they eventually do part.
At the moment, no words need to be said. And he finds that he's okay with that.
He kisses her cheek before helping her thread her arms through the sleeves of her coat. Once he's gotten her all buttoned up, he turns, puts his own jacket on and twirls around to face her again.
“Bones?”
“Hmmm?”
“I trust you too, you know.”
And with a smile, he tugs on her hand and pulls her with him as they step outside and are underneath the stars.
/FIN.