Fic: (looking for) A new technique (Bones, Wendell/Hodgins, NC17)
Title: (looking for) A new technique
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Wendell/Hodgins
Rating: NC17
Summary: Hodgins is a scientist, so he understands the value of experimentation.
There’s a spot on Hodgins’ shoulder, just above the crease where his arm meets the shoulder joint. It could count as the top of his armpit if he thinks about it hard enough, but he’s not thinking too hard about much of anything right now. And it’s hard to believe that he’s gone this far in his life without knowing about such a sensitive erogenous zone right there on his shoulder…arm…whatever region, but up until tonight no one’s ever bothered to press their lips to that spot and suck until he’s practically hyperventilating.
Granted, Wendell’s not like anyone else he’s ever been with. He’s a guy, for one thing, and that’s a big enough difference to make all of this seem brand new. But he’s a scientist too, and it turns out that changes things. And if Hodgins had known that sleeping with a scientist meant this much attention to detail he would have done it a long time ago. But then again, maybe it’s not so much a scientist thing as it is a Wendell thing.
Hodgins is a scientist, after all, and he’s never taken the time to run his tongue along the inside of anyone’s elbow. Not that he’s ever gotten any complaints - he’s attentive in all the ways that seem to count to women - but he never stopped to think that the back of someone’s knee could be a turn-on.
“Oh my God,” he murmurs when a tongue slides between his fingers, prodding the soft skin there until he’s gasping, and he can’t believe that’s even possible. It’s his fucking hand, for God’s sake, and it shouldn’t turn him on so much to have somebody lick his fingers.
Wendell’s mouth leaves his hand to press against his neck, and Hodgins tilts his head back to give him better access. It’s the least he can do, really, considering everything Wendell’s doing for him. And he’s doing a lot - things Hodgins never thought about before - and suddenly Hodgins has a whole list of new favorites.
Technically Wendell’s not the first guy he’s ever fooled around with. He went to private school, after all, and mutual masturbation is practically a rite of passage in those places. But this…this goes way beyond fooling around, because Wendell’s got one hand wrapped around his dick and he’s kissing his way up Hodgins’ neck, murmuring something against Hodgins’ skin that he can’t quite make out.
He pulls back to look down at Hodgins, blue eyes darker than Hodgins has ever seen them and something about the sight sends a jolt of desire straight to Hodgins’ dick. He surges up off the mattress for a kiss, lips parted and moaning against Wendell’s mouth. His hands are on Wendell’s shoulders, fingers pressing hard against his skin to hold him close.
He’s still not sure how they got here; they’ve gone out a couple times, and there’s been some messing around, sure. Mostly kissing and then Hodgins sort of freaking out about just how into it he is, though he thinks he’s managed to hide that part pretty well. Which is for the best, because Wendell’s jumpy enough about the fact that they work together - sort of, anyway - and Hodgins doesn’t want to make it any worse by making Wendell think he’s already having some sort of existential crisis about their…whatever this is.
He’s not sure he can call it a relationship yet. A few beers and some half-drunken making out after a hockey game doesn’t even really count as a date, at least not where Hodgins comes from. But Wendell comes from somewhere completely different than him, so maybe it counts after all. But even if it does count as a relationship, it’s pretty early to be having a bunch of heavy discussions about how they feel. So he’d just as soon save himself the trouble of explaining to Wendell that it’s not so much the fact that he seems to be bisexual after all, but the fact that he’s wasted all this time.
Wendell pulls back with a gasp to look down at him again, one hand braced on the mattress next to him and the other still trapped between them, moving in time with the slow thrust of Hodgins’ hips. “How do you want to do this?”
There are a lot of ways Hodgins could answer that question, but he’s pretty sure none of them are right. The truth is he’s not even sure he understands what Wendell’s asking, so he’s not surprised to hear himself give the dumbest answer possible. “What?”
“You can fuck me if you want,” Wendell says, and just the thought of that makes Hodgins flush. “Or I could blow you. Or we could just…”
“That first one,” Hodgins interrupts, voice embarrassingly breathy but considering the circumstances, nobody could really blame him. “That’s…uh…that’s on the table already?”
Wendell grins at the way he stammers over the words, his hand leaving Hodgins’ dick. “Definitely.”
Then he’s gone altogether, leaving Hodgins cold and hard while he fumbles on the floor for something. A few seconds later he holds up his jeans, digging through the pockets until he finds what he’s looking for. And Hodgins isn’t sure what to think about the fact that he brought lube with him on their third - fourth? - date, but he’s not going to complain.
He is going to complain about the fact that Wendell’s still digging around in his pockets, but by the time he opens his mouth Wendell comes up with a condom and climbs back onto the bed. He plants a knee on either side of Hodgins’ hips, eyes fixed on Hodgins while he tears the condom open and grips his dick again. Hodgins closes his eyes while Wendell slides the condom on, way too close already but there’s no way in hell he’s going to ruin this by coming before they even get started.
When he opens his eyes again Wendell’s still kneeling over him, lube in one hand and his other hand…God, Hodgins never would have guessed how hot that could be. His eyes are closed, head back and making his neck look even longer as he rides his own fingers, and Hodgins finds himself wondering how many he’s using. He can’t tell from this angle, which is a shame, but it’s a pretty nice view all the same.
His hands slide up Wendell’s thighs, kneading taut skin as he watches Wendell’s lips part on a gasp. He thinks he could get used to this sight, to the splotches of red blooming on Wendell’s chest as he strains to get just a little deeper. He could get used to the feel of soft hair under his palms, to the hard muscles flexing against him when Wendell opens his eyes and leans down to kiss him again.
Just for a second he’s sorry to give up the view, then Wendell’s tongue slides past his teeth and he doesn’t really mind anymore. His hands slide up to Wendell’s hips, fingers flexing hard against his skin and Wendell moans against his mouth and pulls back to look at him. “I know everybody calls you Hodgins,” he says, and Hodgins has no idea why they’re having this conversation right now, but the way Wendell’s looking at him tells him it’s important. “But I can’t call you that while we’re…”
It’s cute, the way he doesn’t say it, even though he offered to let Hodgins fuck him less than five minutes ago. It’s pretty cute that he’s asking permission to use Hodgins’ first name, too; the truth is he’s not even sure how the whole last name thing got started at work, but Wendell can call him whatever he wants as long as he gets on with it.
“Jack,” he says, sliding his hands up Wendell’s back to try to pull him closer. “My first name’s Jack.”
“I know your name,” Wendell says, and now he’s laughing, but Hodgins doesn’t really care when Wendell lifts up and wraps a hand around Hodgins’ dick. He lines himself up and sinks down with a soft sigh, moaning Hodgins’ name as he thrusts up to meet him.
“Jack,” he says again as he starts moving, leaning forward to brush their lips together, whispering it a third time against Hodgins’ mouth. And he’s never really thought much about who calls him what, but he likes the way his name sounds when Wendell says it. He likes it a lot, and he’s pretty sure he could listen to Wendell talking forever.
And he’s talking, murmuring nonsense and encouragement and what might even be a prayer, all interspersed with Hodgins’ name. He’s riding Hodgins faster and faster, strong thighs flexing with the effort and Hodgins realizes for the first time just how strong he is. Sure, he skates a lot, and he takes hits out on the ice all the time, but it’s just hockey, and Hodgins never really thought about what that takes until now. His hands are braced against Hodgins’ chest, muscles taut and Hodgins runs his hands down Wendell’s arms, a fresh surge of desire shooting through him.
Wendell leans in to kiss him again, panting against Hodgins’ mouth for a second before he lets Hodgins slip out of him. And that’s disappointing, but before Hodgins has a chance to complain Wendell’s on his hands and knees and looking over his shoulder to watch Hodgins scramble up after him. He keeps watching while Hodgins kneels behind him, cock twitching at the sight of Wendell open and wanting. Wanting him, which isn’t unheard of or anything, but he’s never been with anybody who’s quite so straightforward about it.
And maybe that’s another benefit of dating a guy, because there aren’t any weird games. At least not the games Hodgins is used to, and he’s more than okay with that. He takes a deep breath and lines himself up, sliding back into Wendell with a sigh. Wendell rocks back against him, dragging a groan out of Hodgins as he pulls halfway out and then thrusts forward again. And it takes them a few tries to find the right rhythm, but once they do Hodgins grips Wendell’s hips and starts moving faster.
“God, Jack,” Wendell murmurs, head dropping and Jack can’t resist leaning forward to lick the back of his neck. That gets him a full body shudder, muscles tightening around Jack and dragging a moan out of him. He straightens up again and grips Wendell’s hips hard, shifting his weight a little and thrusting forward again. And he’s not sure what he did exactly, but whatever it was makes Wendell moan and drop his forehead onto his arms. So he does it again, and again and again just to hear Wendell moan his name again.
And he can tell Wendell’s close, so he leans forward and slides an arm around his waist to grip his cock. He strokes in time to his own thrusts, hips moving more and more wildly as Wendell rocks back harder against him. He wants to hold on, wants to last just a little longer so he can keep thrusting into tight heat and listening to the sound of Wendell’s voice chanting his name over and over. But the onslaught of sensation is way too much, and before he knows what’s happening he’s thrusting one last time and coming.
The next several seconds of his life are a blur; he thinks he might have passed out for a minute, because when he opens his eyes again he’s lying on the mattress, skin slick with sweat and Wendell’s hand pressed against the center of his chest.
“You okay?” Wendell asks, and he actually looks a little worried. It’s sweet, and Hodgins manages to summon a weary smile.
“Never better,” he says, then he turns on his side and presses their lips together. He reaches between them to find that Wendell’s still hard, thrusting into Hodgins’ palm and making needy noises in the back of his throat while Hodgins jerks him off. It doesn’t take long - just a few hard strokes and he’s tensing in Hodgins’ grip, wet heat coating Hodgins’ fingers and his stomach. And it’s a little weird, having another guy’s come on him, but it’s sort of sexy too. He likes that Wendell wants him so much, anyway, and he likes being the one to do this for him.
Another kiss, breathless and sort of lazy, because they’re both pretty exhausted, and Wendell lets go of him and rolls onto his back. A few seconds later his breathing evens out, and a few seconds after that Hodgins is pretty sure he’s asleep. Just like that, no conversation about feelings or the future of their relationship or whether or not he’s planning to spend the night. It’s…uncomplicated, and Hodgins is pretty sure he could get used to it.
~
The next time Wendell comes up on the grad assistant rotation, Hodgins finds himself looking more forward to work than usual. It’s not just because they’re sleeping together; that adds a layer, sure, but even if they weren’t involved, Wendell would still be his favorite of Dr. Brennan’s assistants. He’s the most fun, for one thing, and he’s not annoying like the rest of them. Maybe he’s a little uptight when it comes to the rules, but he’s always up for an experiment - though so far the scientific kind is the only type Hodgins has talked him into at work - and he’s smart enough to actually help instead of just getting in the way.
They’re in the middle of a case involving a month-old body the FBI found in Stanton Park, and Hodgins is glad it’s Wendell helping him process the remains instead of Nigel or one of the others. Mostly he’s glad to have Wendell around because it’s not a particularly interesting body, and that means he’d be bored out of his mind without somebody to talk to. He grins to himself at the thought of their lunch plans, checking his watch for the fourth time in fifteen minutes.
He’s about to suggest that they take lunch a little early when Wendell murmurs something at the microscope, then looks over at him. “Hey, Jack, come look at this.”
And it’s no big deal; it’s just his name, and it’s not like nobody at work ever uses it. But it’s the first time Wendell’s said it today, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine.
“Jack?”
A fresh shiver rolls through him and Hodgins shakes himself, nodding and setting down the samples he’s been processing. “Yeah,” he says, forcing his mind back onto the case long enough to look at whatever Wendell’s discovered. When he leans over to peer into the microscope a hand lands on his back, lingering just for a second before it disappears again. And it’s barely a touch, but usually Wendell’s so freaked out that Dr. Brennan’s going to find out about them and fire them both that he won’t even let Hodgins drive him home after work, so it’s a step in the right direction.
“Wow,” Hodgins says, still staring into the microscope at the clue Wendell’s uncovered. “I think you might have just solved our case.”
“Yeah?” Wendell says, and he sounds so hopeful that Hodgins can’t help grinning.
“Maybe,” he answers, reaching for his phone to dial Dr. Brennan. He hopes so, anyway, because the sooner they wrap this thing up the sooner he can get Wendell all to himself again.
~
It is snowing hard out there. It's beautiful, though I could enjoy it more if I didn't have to leave for work in half an hour.
Edit: They're closing the library at 5:00, so I get to go home three hours early. That's kind of awesome. Not so awesome: I probably have to work tomorrow night instead.
Psych! Stuck at work until 8:00 after all.
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Wendell/Hodgins
Rating: NC17
Summary: Hodgins is a scientist, so he understands the value of experimentation.
There’s a spot on Hodgins’ shoulder, just above the crease where his arm meets the shoulder joint. It could count as the top of his armpit if he thinks about it hard enough, but he’s not thinking too hard about much of anything right now. And it’s hard to believe that he’s gone this far in his life without knowing about such a sensitive erogenous zone right there on his shoulder…arm…whatever region, but up until tonight no one’s ever bothered to press their lips to that spot and suck until he’s practically hyperventilating.
Granted, Wendell’s not like anyone else he’s ever been with. He’s a guy, for one thing, and that’s a big enough difference to make all of this seem brand new. But he’s a scientist too, and it turns out that changes things. And if Hodgins had known that sleeping with a scientist meant this much attention to detail he would have done it a long time ago. But then again, maybe it’s not so much a scientist thing as it is a Wendell thing.
Hodgins is a scientist, after all, and he’s never taken the time to run his tongue along the inside of anyone’s elbow. Not that he’s ever gotten any complaints - he’s attentive in all the ways that seem to count to women - but he never stopped to think that the back of someone’s knee could be a turn-on.
“Oh my God,” he murmurs when a tongue slides between his fingers, prodding the soft skin there until he’s gasping, and he can’t believe that’s even possible. It’s his fucking hand, for God’s sake, and it shouldn’t turn him on so much to have somebody lick his fingers.
Wendell’s mouth leaves his hand to press against his neck, and Hodgins tilts his head back to give him better access. It’s the least he can do, really, considering everything Wendell’s doing for him. And he’s doing a lot - things Hodgins never thought about before - and suddenly Hodgins has a whole list of new favorites.
Technically Wendell’s not the first guy he’s ever fooled around with. He went to private school, after all, and mutual masturbation is practically a rite of passage in those places. But this…this goes way beyond fooling around, because Wendell’s got one hand wrapped around his dick and he’s kissing his way up Hodgins’ neck, murmuring something against Hodgins’ skin that he can’t quite make out.
He pulls back to look down at Hodgins, blue eyes darker than Hodgins has ever seen them and something about the sight sends a jolt of desire straight to Hodgins’ dick. He surges up off the mattress for a kiss, lips parted and moaning against Wendell’s mouth. His hands are on Wendell’s shoulders, fingers pressing hard against his skin to hold him close.
He’s still not sure how they got here; they’ve gone out a couple times, and there’s been some messing around, sure. Mostly kissing and then Hodgins sort of freaking out about just how into it he is, though he thinks he’s managed to hide that part pretty well. Which is for the best, because Wendell’s jumpy enough about the fact that they work together - sort of, anyway - and Hodgins doesn’t want to make it any worse by making Wendell think he’s already having some sort of existential crisis about their…whatever this is.
He’s not sure he can call it a relationship yet. A few beers and some half-drunken making out after a hockey game doesn’t even really count as a date, at least not where Hodgins comes from. But Wendell comes from somewhere completely different than him, so maybe it counts after all. But even if it does count as a relationship, it’s pretty early to be having a bunch of heavy discussions about how they feel. So he’d just as soon save himself the trouble of explaining to Wendell that it’s not so much the fact that he seems to be bisexual after all, but the fact that he’s wasted all this time.
Wendell pulls back with a gasp to look down at him again, one hand braced on the mattress next to him and the other still trapped between them, moving in time with the slow thrust of Hodgins’ hips. “How do you want to do this?”
There are a lot of ways Hodgins could answer that question, but he’s pretty sure none of them are right. The truth is he’s not even sure he understands what Wendell’s asking, so he’s not surprised to hear himself give the dumbest answer possible. “What?”
“You can fuck me if you want,” Wendell says, and just the thought of that makes Hodgins flush. “Or I could blow you. Or we could just…”
“That first one,” Hodgins interrupts, voice embarrassingly breathy but considering the circumstances, nobody could really blame him. “That’s…uh…that’s on the table already?”
Wendell grins at the way he stammers over the words, his hand leaving Hodgins’ dick. “Definitely.”
Then he’s gone altogether, leaving Hodgins cold and hard while he fumbles on the floor for something. A few seconds later he holds up his jeans, digging through the pockets until he finds what he’s looking for. And Hodgins isn’t sure what to think about the fact that he brought lube with him on their third - fourth? - date, but he’s not going to complain.
He is going to complain about the fact that Wendell’s still digging around in his pockets, but by the time he opens his mouth Wendell comes up with a condom and climbs back onto the bed. He plants a knee on either side of Hodgins’ hips, eyes fixed on Hodgins while he tears the condom open and grips his dick again. Hodgins closes his eyes while Wendell slides the condom on, way too close already but there’s no way in hell he’s going to ruin this by coming before they even get started.
When he opens his eyes again Wendell’s still kneeling over him, lube in one hand and his other hand…God, Hodgins never would have guessed how hot that could be. His eyes are closed, head back and making his neck look even longer as he rides his own fingers, and Hodgins finds himself wondering how many he’s using. He can’t tell from this angle, which is a shame, but it’s a pretty nice view all the same.
His hands slide up Wendell’s thighs, kneading taut skin as he watches Wendell’s lips part on a gasp. He thinks he could get used to this sight, to the splotches of red blooming on Wendell’s chest as he strains to get just a little deeper. He could get used to the feel of soft hair under his palms, to the hard muscles flexing against him when Wendell opens his eyes and leans down to kiss him again.
Just for a second he’s sorry to give up the view, then Wendell’s tongue slides past his teeth and he doesn’t really mind anymore. His hands slide up to Wendell’s hips, fingers flexing hard against his skin and Wendell moans against his mouth and pulls back to look at him. “I know everybody calls you Hodgins,” he says, and Hodgins has no idea why they’re having this conversation right now, but the way Wendell’s looking at him tells him it’s important. “But I can’t call you that while we’re…”
It’s cute, the way he doesn’t say it, even though he offered to let Hodgins fuck him less than five minutes ago. It’s pretty cute that he’s asking permission to use Hodgins’ first name, too; the truth is he’s not even sure how the whole last name thing got started at work, but Wendell can call him whatever he wants as long as he gets on with it.
“Jack,” he says, sliding his hands up Wendell’s back to try to pull him closer. “My first name’s Jack.”
“I know your name,” Wendell says, and now he’s laughing, but Hodgins doesn’t really care when Wendell lifts up and wraps a hand around Hodgins’ dick. He lines himself up and sinks down with a soft sigh, moaning Hodgins’ name as he thrusts up to meet him.
“Jack,” he says again as he starts moving, leaning forward to brush their lips together, whispering it a third time against Hodgins’ mouth. And he’s never really thought much about who calls him what, but he likes the way his name sounds when Wendell says it. He likes it a lot, and he’s pretty sure he could listen to Wendell talking forever.
And he’s talking, murmuring nonsense and encouragement and what might even be a prayer, all interspersed with Hodgins’ name. He’s riding Hodgins faster and faster, strong thighs flexing with the effort and Hodgins realizes for the first time just how strong he is. Sure, he skates a lot, and he takes hits out on the ice all the time, but it’s just hockey, and Hodgins never really thought about what that takes until now. His hands are braced against Hodgins’ chest, muscles taut and Hodgins runs his hands down Wendell’s arms, a fresh surge of desire shooting through him.
Wendell leans in to kiss him again, panting against Hodgins’ mouth for a second before he lets Hodgins slip out of him. And that’s disappointing, but before Hodgins has a chance to complain Wendell’s on his hands and knees and looking over his shoulder to watch Hodgins scramble up after him. He keeps watching while Hodgins kneels behind him, cock twitching at the sight of Wendell open and wanting. Wanting him, which isn’t unheard of or anything, but he’s never been with anybody who’s quite so straightforward about it.
And maybe that’s another benefit of dating a guy, because there aren’t any weird games. At least not the games Hodgins is used to, and he’s more than okay with that. He takes a deep breath and lines himself up, sliding back into Wendell with a sigh. Wendell rocks back against him, dragging a groan out of Hodgins as he pulls halfway out and then thrusts forward again. And it takes them a few tries to find the right rhythm, but once they do Hodgins grips Wendell’s hips and starts moving faster.
“God, Jack,” Wendell murmurs, head dropping and Jack can’t resist leaning forward to lick the back of his neck. That gets him a full body shudder, muscles tightening around Jack and dragging a moan out of him. He straightens up again and grips Wendell’s hips hard, shifting his weight a little and thrusting forward again. And he’s not sure what he did exactly, but whatever it was makes Wendell moan and drop his forehead onto his arms. So he does it again, and again and again just to hear Wendell moan his name again.
And he can tell Wendell’s close, so he leans forward and slides an arm around his waist to grip his cock. He strokes in time to his own thrusts, hips moving more and more wildly as Wendell rocks back harder against him. He wants to hold on, wants to last just a little longer so he can keep thrusting into tight heat and listening to the sound of Wendell’s voice chanting his name over and over. But the onslaught of sensation is way too much, and before he knows what’s happening he’s thrusting one last time and coming.
The next several seconds of his life are a blur; he thinks he might have passed out for a minute, because when he opens his eyes again he’s lying on the mattress, skin slick with sweat and Wendell’s hand pressed against the center of his chest.
“You okay?” Wendell asks, and he actually looks a little worried. It’s sweet, and Hodgins manages to summon a weary smile.
“Never better,” he says, then he turns on his side and presses their lips together. He reaches between them to find that Wendell’s still hard, thrusting into Hodgins’ palm and making needy noises in the back of his throat while Hodgins jerks him off. It doesn’t take long - just a few hard strokes and he’s tensing in Hodgins’ grip, wet heat coating Hodgins’ fingers and his stomach. And it’s a little weird, having another guy’s come on him, but it’s sort of sexy too. He likes that Wendell wants him so much, anyway, and he likes being the one to do this for him.
Another kiss, breathless and sort of lazy, because they’re both pretty exhausted, and Wendell lets go of him and rolls onto his back. A few seconds later his breathing evens out, and a few seconds after that Hodgins is pretty sure he’s asleep. Just like that, no conversation about feelings or the future of their relationship or whether or not he’s planning to spend the night. It’s…uncomplicated, and Hodgins is pretty sure he could get used to it.
~
The next time Wendell comes up on the grad assistant rotation, Hodgins finds himself looking more forward to work than usual. It’s not just because they’re sleeping together; that adds a layer, sure, but even if they weren’t involved, Wendell would still be his favorite of Dr. Brennan’s assistants. He’s the most fun, for one thing, and he’s not annoying like the rest of them. Maybe he’s a little uptight when it comes to the rules, but he’s always up for an experiment - though so far the scientific kind is the only type Hodgins has talked him into at work - and he’s smart enough to actually help instead of just getting in the way.
They’re in the middle of a case involving a month-old body the FBI found in Stanton Park, and Hodgins is glad it’s Wendell helping him process the remains instead of Nigel or one of the others. Mostly he’s glad to have Wendell around because it’s not a particularly interesting body, and that means he’d be bored out of his mind without somebody to talk to. He grins to himself at the thought of their lunch plans, checking his watch for the fourth time in fifteen minutes.
He’s about to suggest that they take lunch a little early when Wendell murmurs something at the microscope, then looks over at him. “Hey, Jack, come look at this.”
And it’s no big deal; it’s just his name, and it’s not like nobody at work ever uses it. But it’s the first time Wendell’s said it today, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine.
“Jack?”
A fresh shiver rolls through him and Hodgins shakes himself, nodding and setting down the samples he’s been processing. “Yeah,” he says, forcing his mind back onto the case long enough to look at whatever Wendell’s discovered. When he leans over to peer into the microscope a hand lands on his back, lingering just for a second before it disappears again. And it’s barely a touch, but usually Wendell’s so freaked out that Dr. Brennan’s going to find out about them and fire them both that he won’t even let Hodgins drive him home after work, so it’s a step in the right direction.
“Wow,” Hodgins says, still staring into the microscope at the clue Wendell’s uncovered. “I think you might have just solved our case.”
“Yeah?” Wendell says, and he sounds so hopeful that Hodgins can’t help grinning.
“Maybe,” he answers, reaching for his phone to dial Dr. Brennan. He hopes so, anyway, because the sooner they wrap this thing up the sooner he can get Wendell all to himself again.
~
It is snowing hard out there. It's beautiful, though I could enjoy it more if I didn't have to leave for work in half an hour.
Edit: They're closing the library at 5:00, so I get to go home three hours early. That's kind of awesome. Not so awesome: I probably have to work tomorrow night instead.
Psych! Stuck at work until 8:00 after all.