Did I Taste Like Cherry Chapstick? (Sweetooth, PG13)
Title: Did I Taste like Cherry Chapstick?
Pairings/Characters: Sweetooth
Rating: PG13 for kissing
Word Count: 707
Summary: Booth wants to burn it all down. But luckily he can always restart the flames.
Warnings: No spoilers.
Disclaimer: Not for profit. I don't own the characters, I just borrow them to play.
Author's Notes: Written for 16candle_fics Prompt: 10. Silent Embers
Sweets had practically walked the entire FBI building. Booth was nowhere to be found and apparently no one had seen him in quite a while. He huffed a frustrated breath from between his lips before giving up and shoving open the back door to the parking lot.
With his arms crossed and his face looking down at the pavement, he almost ran smack into a very broad shouldered man. And he suddenly smelled smoke.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Sweets said, his hand on his hip.
‘Burning this stuff. What does it look like?’ Booth replied mutely, his eyes watching the flames tear apart the black words that crawled across plain white paper.
Sweets ran his hand through his hair, not sure how to proceed. He tentatively stuck out his hand, only to retract it before making contact.
Instead he rocked his weight back onto his heels and shoved his hands into his pockets. Sweets just watched as Booth added a few more papers to the tiny makeshift fire he had haphazardly constructed with some twigs at the edge of the gravel parking lot.
Sweet’s shoulder accidentally bumped against Booth’s arm as they stood side by side, watching the flames desperately searching for more fuel before they started to die. Sweets didn’t bother stepping away from him.
Booth inhaled deeply, letting his eyes slip closed. Sweets watched his face; waited for him to do something.
The fire was dead.
Sweets kind of wanted to make the flames leap back to life. At least Booth could go back to looking at them and not looking so lost.
Booth opened his eyes and turned slightly. He gripped Sweets’ elbow, forcing Sweets to turn slightly towards him as well.
‘You came here to ask me to explain.’
It wasn’t a question. So Sweets didn’t elaborate. They both knew what Booth was talking about. No need for games. Not anymore, anyway.
Booth seemed to gather up his courage. His grip on Sweets’ elbow tightened. But Sweets didn’t flinch.
‘I don’t… know. I’m messed up in the head, okay? You, of all people, should know that.’ Booth ran his other hand through his hair, his eyes darting everywhere.
‘Hey.’ Sweets said, putting his hand on Booth’s shoulder to steady him.
Their eyes sought out each other and they silently agreed on staring, on appraising, for a few dozen heartbeats.
‘So, did I taste like cherry chapstick?’ Booth asked it to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t laugh afterwards like he meant to.
‘Hmm, a pop culture reference. Are you insinuating this was just a meaningless experiment? Men at your age could be subject to those types of-’
Booth shook Sweets and Sweets shut his mouth abruptly. Booth started to laugh at the ridiculousness of their current situation.
‘What?’ Sweets insisted, his eyebrows quirked.
‘My knuckles are turning white where I’m holding your elbow and I’ve let you keep your hand on my shoulder for like 10 minutes and we are pretty much hiding on the outskirts of an abandoned parking structure and you are asking me if earlier was meaningless.’
Sweets let himself smile before he started to mull over what Booth had just said.
‘Stop doing that.’ Booth meant to just get those words out, but instead he brought his lips down to capture Sweets’ mouth and tug him slightly forward. Sweets’ hand fell away from Booth’s shoulder and instead fit snuggly against Booth’s hip.
Sweets got on his tiptoes and Booth lets Sweets’ tongue slip past his lips, gliding smoothly through the insides of his mouth and making the butterflies flutter frantically where they lived low in his stomach.
Booth’s toes curled inside his shoes before Sweets stepped back.
Sweets felt Booth’s cool cheek with his palm but he didn’t leave it there. He turned to look at the pile of embers glowing on the ground where Booth had let them die out.
‘I guess you didn’t have that much stuff to burn.’ Sweets stated his observation.
‘I can always rebuild the flames. The second time around is always bigger and better anyway.’ Booth shrugged, not looking at the embers at all.
Slowly, Sweets caught his drift. And then he smiled.
They both spread out the ashes with their toes.
~end. Comments are love.
Pairings/Characters: Sweetooth
Rating: PG13 for kissing
Word Count: 707
Summary: Booth wants to burn it all down. But luckily he can always restart the flames.
Warnings: No spoilers.
Disclaimer: Not for profit. I don't own the characters, I just borrow them to play.
Author's Notes: Written for 16candle_fics Prompt: 10. Silent Embers
Sweets had practically walked the entire FBI building. Booth was nowhere to be found and apparently no one had seen him in quite a while. He huffed a frustrated breath from between his lips before giving up and shoving open the back door to the parking lot.
With his arms crossed and his face looking down at the pavement, he almost ran smack into a very broad shouldered man. And he suddenly smelled smoke.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Sweets said, his hand on his hip.
‘Burning this stuff. What does it look like?’ Booth replied mutely, his eyes watching the flames tear apart the black words that crawled across plain white paper.
Sweets ran his hand through his hair, not sure how to proceed. He tentatively stuck out his hand, only to retract it before making contact.
Instead he rocked his weight back onto his heels and shoved his hands into his pockets. Sweets just watched as Booth added a few more papers to the tiny makeshift fire he had haphazardly constructed with some twigs at the edge of the gravel parking lot.
Sweet’s shoulder accidentally bumped against Booth’s arm as they stood side by side, watching the flames desperately searching for more fuel before they started to die. Sweets didn’t bother stepping away from him.
Booth inhaled deeply, letting his eyes slip closed. Sweets watched his face; waited for him to do something.
The fire was dead.
Sweets kind of wanted to make the flames leap back to life. At least Booth could go back to looking at them and not looking so lost.
Booth opened his eyes and turned slightly. He gripped Sweets’ elbow, forcing Sweets to turn slightly towards him as well.
‘You came here to ask me to explain.’
It wasn’t a question. So Sweets didn’t elaborate. They both knew what Booth was talking about. No need for games. Not anymore, anyway.
Booth seemed to gather up his courage. His grip on Sweets’ elbow tightened. But Sweets didn’t flinch.
‘I don’t… know. I’m messed up in the head, okay? You, of all people, should know that.’ Booth ran his other hand through his hair, his eyes darting everywhere.
‘Hey.’ Sweets said, putting his hand on Booth’s shoulder to steady him.
Their eyes sought out each other and they silently agreed on staring, on appraising, for a few dozen heartbeats.
‘So, did I taste like cherry chapstick?’ Booth asked it to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t laugh afterwards like he meant to.
‘Hmm, a pop culture reference. Are you insinuating this was just a meaningless experiment? Men at your age could be subject to those types of-’
Booth shook Sweets and Sweets shut his mouth abruptly. Booth started to laugh at the ridiculousness of their current situation.
‘What?’ Sweets insisted, his eyebrows quirked.
‘My knuckles are turning white where I’m holding your elbow and I’ve let you keep your hand on my shoulder for like 10 minutes and we are pretty much hiding on the outskirts of an abandoned parking structure and you are asking me if earlier was meaningless.’
Sweets let himself smile before he started to mull over what Booth had just said.
‘Stop doing that.’ Booth meant to just get those words out, but instead he brought his lips down to capture Sweets’ mouth and tug him slightly forward. Sweets’ hand fell away from Booth’s shoulder and instead fit snuggly against Booth’s hip.
Sweets got on his tiptoes and Booth lets Sweets’ tongue slip past his lips, gliding smoothly through the insides of his mouth and making the butterflies flutter frantically where they lived low in his stomach.
Booth’s toes curled inside his shoes before Sweets stepped back.
Sweets felt Booth’s cool cheek with his palm but he didn’t leave it there. He turned to look at the pile of embers glowing on the ground where Booth had let them die out.
‘I guess you didn’t have that much stuff to burn.’ Sweets stated his observation.
‘I can always rebuild the flames. The second time around is always bigger and better anyway.’ Booth shrugged, not looking at the embers at all.
Slowly, Sweets caught his drift. And then he smiled.
They both spread out the ashes with their toes.
~end. Comments are love.