Bones FF: King of the Lab (Hodgins/Zack, NC-17, spoilers to mid-S3)
More reposting from oxoniensis's Porn Battle V
Title: King of the Lab
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Hodgins/Zack
Rating: NC-17
Length: 734 words
Disclaimer: All belongs to Hart Hanson et al
Spoilers: Set somewhere in the first third of S3
Summary: Things haven't been the same between them since Zack got back. Prompts were return and victorious, originally here.
It made him feel uncomfortably like a fourteen-year-old girl, but there was no denying that Jack was beginning to worry that Zack didn’t like him anymore. Ever since the kid got back, things had been weird. It’s not like either of them were exactly conventional to begin with, but at least they used to have fun. Now Zack looked at him with his big dark eyes and where there had been stillness, there was something else. When Jack crowed “King of the Lab” in his ear, Zack blinked at him as if he were something strange and unknowable.
So there was a bite of sharp satisfaction when he touched Zack’s shoulder and at least the kid fucking moved. The light in the lab was dim - Zack had stayed late, and Jack stayed to watch him work. He had forgotten nothing; this new knowledge was layered over the old. At least, Jack prayed to God, or Buddha, or who-the-fuck-ever that this wasn’t permanent.
Zack smiled at him. “Is there a problem?”
“Zack… You can forget this later, okay?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Just…” Jack cupped his hand under Zack’s chin - his cheeks were smooth - and steered their mouths briefly together. He heard Zack scrabbling for purchase on the lab bench.
“Hodgins?” Zack asked, weirdly calm, though even in the low light Jack could see the colour rise in his cheeks.
“Okay. That’s… okay then.”
“Hodgins,” Zack said again, and then there was more kissing, which Jack was almost certain he hadn’t started. “Can you… can you just…?”
They were close enough that he could feel Zack’s hard-on through the denim of his jeans. The thick fabric should have meant he had to work for it, but Zack was moaning and trying to crawl closer from the moment Jack brushed a hand against his crotch. Button fly, kind of a weird choice, but now wasn’t the time for that kind of question. Zack’s dick was narrow, and flushed pink, and curved upwards into Jack’s hand. It fitted.
“Hodgins?” Zack stammered out. “Turn… turn around?”
Jack craned his head over his shoulder before he figured out what Zack meant. “Uh.” Unexpected twist. What the hell. “Sure.”
He turned around, and shoved his jeans down, bracing his hands on the lab bench. Oh, the kid was far kinkier than Jack had ever thought. At least he wasn’t wearing the gloves. The thought made him shiver, more so that Zack had walked away without a word. “Umm. Zack?” The air was cold against bare legs and his diminishing hard-on, but he refused to turn around, in case Zack wasn’t there.
Then there was hot breath against his neck and a cold finger prodding at his entrance. He shivered again, but it wasn’t all bad this time. “Jesus, Zack!”
“I’m sorry,” Zack said. “This was all I could find. Is it too cold?”
“Just a… God! Just a bit. Don’t stop!”
“All right.”
Zack finger-fucked him for long slow minutes, not speaking, their only point of contact. Jack kept his eyes fixed on Zack’s other hand beside his on the bench, and the way his fingers flexed. He couldn’t help talking - all the words he’d been trying not to say to Zack: are we okay? Did I do something wrong? What happened out there and can I fix it?
“Are you all right?” Zack asked.
“You mean…? Yes, Zack, God, just do it.”
“I thought I should check,” Zack said petulantly, tone that doesn’t match at all with what he does next. Sliding into Jack, bending him over the table, so they were back-to-chest, and every breath Zack took was a gasp. That still hand slid away from the table to wrap around Jack’s dick, keeping metronome rhythm with Zack’s thrusts.
Jack came first, sticky over Zack’s forensics-taught hands. Zack took a minute or two longer, shoving into Jack with a final shocked cry. It might even have been Jack’s name.
In a while, they were going to need to move to clean this up. Messing up sterile labs with office sex was normally frowned upon. Jack turned around again and kissed the corner of Zack’s mouth.
“Your beard tickles,” Zack murmured.
“Hey, I’ve had no complaints,” Jack said. Then: “You know what?”
Zack answered fast, like the kid Jack thought he had stopped being. “King of the Lab.”
Jack thought about protesting, but deferred to Zack’s superior timing. “Yeah, buddy, okay.”
Title: King of the Lab
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Hodgins/Zack
Rating: NC-17
Length: 734 words
Disclaimer: All belongs to Hart Hanson et al
Spoilers: Set somewhere in the first third of S3
Summary: Things haven't been the same between them since Zack got back. Prompts were return and victorious, originally here.
It made him feel uncomfortably like a fourteen-year-old girl, but there was no denying that Jack was beginning to worry that Zack didn’t like him anymore. Ever since the kid got back, things had been weird. It’s not like either of them were exactly conventional to begin with, but at least they used to have fun. Now Zack looked at him with his big dark eyes and where there had been stillness, there was something else. When Jack crowed “King of the Lab” in his ear, Zack blinked at him as if he were something strange and unknowable.
So there was a bite of sharp satisfaction when he touched Zack’s shoulder and at least the kid fucking moved. The light in the lab was dim - Zack had stayed late, and Jack stayed to watch him work. He had forgotten nothing; this new knowledge was layered over the old. At least, Jack prayed to God, or Buddha, or who-the-fuck-ever that this wasn’t permanent.
Zack smiled at him. “Is there a problem?”
“Zack… You can forget this later, okay?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Just…” Jack cupped his hand under Zack’s chin - his cheeks were smooth - and steered their mouths briefly together. He heard Zack scrabbling for purchase on the lab bench.
“Hodgins?” Zack asked, weirdly calm, though even in the low light Jack could see the colour rise in his cheeks.
“Okay. That’s… okay then.”
“Hodgins,” Zack said again, and then there was more kissing, which Jack was almost certain he hadn’t started. “Can you… can you just…?”
They were close enough that he could feel Zack’s hard-on through the denim of his jeans. The thick fabric should have meant he had to work for it, but Zack was moaning and trying to crawl closer from the moment Jack brushed a hand against his crotch. Button fly, kind of a weird choice, but now wasn’t the time for that kind of question. Zack’s dick was narrow, and flushed pink, and curved upwards into Jack’s hand. It fitted.
“Hodgins?” Zack stammered out. “Turn… turn around?”
Jack craned his head over his shoulder before he figured out what Zack meant. “Uh.” Unexpected twist. What the hell. “Sure.”
He turned around, and shoved his jeans down, bracing his hands on the lab bench. Oh, the kid was far kinkier than Jack had ever thought. At least he wasn’t wearing the gloves. The thought made him shiver, more so that Zack had walked away without a word. “Umm. Zack?” The air was cold against bare legs and his diminishing hard-on, but he refused to turn around, in case Zack wasn’t there.
Then there was hot breath against his neck and a cold finger prodding at his entrance. He shivered again, but it wasn’t all bad this time. “Jesus, Zack!”
“I’m sorry,” Zack said. “This was all I could find. Is it too cold?”
“Just a… God! Just a bit. Don’t stop!”
“All right.”
Zack finger-fucked him for long slow minutes, not speaking, their only point of contact. Jack kept his eyes fixed on Zack’s other hand beside his on the bench, and the way his fingers flexed. He couldn’t help talking - all the words he’d been trying not to say to Zack: are we okay? Did I do something wrong? What happened out there and can I fix it?
“Are you all right?” Zack asked.
“You mean…? Yes, Zack, God, just do it.”
“I thought I should check,” Zack said petulantly, tone that doesn’t match at all with what he does next. Sliding into Jack, bending him over the table, so they were back-to-chest, and every breath Zack took was a gasp. That still hand slid away from the table to wrap around Jack’s dick, keeping metronome rhythm with Zack’s thrusts.
Jack came first, sticky over Zack’s forensics-taught hands. Zack took a minute or two longer, shoving into Jack with a final shocked cry. It might even have been Jack’s name.
In a while, they were going to need to move to clean this up. Messing up sterile labs with office sex was normally frowned upon. Jack turned around again and kissed the corner of Zack’s mouth.
“Your beard tickles,” Zack murmured.
“Hey, I’ve had no complaints,” Jack said. Then: “You know what?”
Zack answered fast, like the kid Jack thought he had stopped being. “King of the Lab.”
Jack thought about protesting, but deferred to Zack’s superior timing. “Yeah, buddy, okay.”