The First Five Times - Part 1
Title: The First Five Times - Part 1
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Brennan/Booth
Rating: M/NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to Kathy Reichs and Hart Hanson, et al.
Summary/Notes: Based on the Stars' song "The First Five Times" although I did take a few liberties from the lyrics. I started writing this story ages ago, so I imagined it taking pre or early season 4. The main things that affect time line is that Zack is gone and Angela and Hodgins are together. As always, reviews are loved, appreciated and coveted!
***
First time in the back yard
Underneath the plastic sheeting
Outside it was pouring
And we were drunk as shit
Temperance Brennan rang Booth’s doorbell again impatiently. She knew he was home - the Tahoe was in the driveway - and she needed him to sign off on the paperwork from their latest case. Even though it was Friday night, she didn’t like to leave things undone. It would be hanging over her head all weekend.
She waited for a few more moments before taking out her cell and calling Booth’s number. He picked up between the second and third ring.
“Bones?” he answered.
“Booth, I’m at your front door with some paperwork. Where are you?”
“In the backyard,” he replied, then flicked the phone shut. Slightly puzzled, Brennan stepped off her partner’s front porch and headed towards the gate that led to Booth’s small yard. She was surprised see a tent set up but no Booth. “In here, Bones,” his voice came from inside the tent.
Brennan crossed the yard, heels sinking slightly into the grass, and flipped up the flap of the tent. Her partner was sitting cross-legged in the center of the small tent, an open bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Booth, what are you doing?”
“Just having a drink,” he replied flatly.
“In a tent in your backyard?”
“I was supposed to take Parker camping two weeks ago, but I had to cancel because we were knee-deep in the Damski case. So we were going to do a modified version tonight in the yard. Hence the tent.”
“Were going to?”
“Yeah, were. Rebecca called about an hour ago and said that Park has strep throat and should stay home. Hence the drinking.” He wiggled the bottle, sending the liquid sloshing inside it.
“Drinking alone isn’t healthy, Booth,” she told him.
“So join me. Then I won’t be alone.” She rolled her eyes as he purposely missed her point, but ducked under the tent flap anyway. Smoothing out her slacks as she sat, she accepted the whiskey bottle he offered and took a swig. The alcohol burned down her throat and warmed her chest. She coughed slightly and handed him back the bottle. Booth took a long pull and sighed.
“Pretty soon he’s not going to want to spend Friday nights with his dad anymore. He’s going to want to go out with girls, spend his Friday nights in the back row of a movie theater.”
“His father’s son.” Brennan joked causing Booth to grin momentarily before his moping face fell back into place. “But seriously Booth, he’s seven. I think you have a few more years before you need to worry about that.” She accepted the whiskey bottle again.
“We don’t get to spend that much time together as it. I hate having to cancel plans with him. Now the weather’s getting colder so we probably won’t be able to go camping until next spring. I’m missing my moments, Bones, moments I can’t get back.”
Brennan took a moment to consider all the moments in her life that her father had missed. Although she was slowly rebuilding her relationship with her him, she still hurt from his abandonment. But she could clearly see that Booth would never do to Parker what her father had done to her. “Booth, you are a good father. A camping trip here and there won’t matter in the long run. You are always there for Parker when it’s really important and he knows that.”
“Thanks, Bones.” He sighed, stretching out his long legs and leaning back on his elbows. “So did you ever go camping when you were a kid?”
She took another sip of the whiskey, then leaned back as well, mimicking his position. The alcohol was working its way into her bloodstream, loosening her lips.
“Yes, quite often actually. Russ, my dad and I. We would do some hiking or cycling. My dad would teach us about the rocks and plants. Sometimes we would bring a telescope and look at the stars.”
“Do you know the constellations?” Booth asked.
“Not all of them, but most.”
“Show me,” he commanded, tilting his head back to look at the sky.
“We’re under a tent, Booth.”
“Oh right,” he laughed and took another pull of whiskey. Brennan could tell the alcohol was getting to him and she wondered if he had eaten anything before starting to drink. She hadn’t eaten dinner herself and she could feel the whiskey starting to take effect quickly. She took the bottle when he offered it anyway.
“I spent a lot of time outside in the Rangers. Not a lot of ambient light outside in Al Anbar. It would have been nice to be able to pick out the constellations.” His words surprised Brennan and she turned her head to look at her partner, his profile picked out by the streetlight filtered through the nylon of the tent. He didn’t talk about his time in the Rangers often, but waiting for him to elaborate proved futile because he lapsed into silence.
The pitter-patter of starting rainfall filled the quiet tent and they sat and listened for a long time as the storm picked up, enjoying the whiskey and each other’s company. Brennan shivered, her thin blouse doing little to protect her from the wind coming through the cracks of the tent.
“Cold?” Booth asked.
“A little,” she answered. He scooted a little closer and slung his arm around her shoulders, trying to lend her some of his body heat. She leaned into him and took another slug of whiskey to warm herself. Booth took back the almost empty bottle and finished it off.
“Whiskey’s gone,” he announced.
“We should probably go inside,” Brennan told him, but neither moved. After another few minutes of comfortable silence, Booth spoke.
“Thanks for hanging out tonight. It was nice to have company.”
“No problem. That’s what partners are for, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. But you know, you’re not just my partner, right Bones?” Her blue eyes were wide as she tilted her head up to look at him as she anxiously waited to see where Booth would say next. “You’re my best friend.”
“You’re my best friend too Booth.” Their declarations hung thick in the air for a moment before Brennan added, “just don’t tell Angela.” For some reason, Booth found that hysterical and started to laugh, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest.
“What? What’s so funny?” she asked, but her questions made him laugh harder. “What? I don’t get it.” She was smiling too though, his mirth contagious. Finally, she gave up trying to figure out what was making him laugh besides the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed. “You are drunk, Booth. I should get you inside.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he agreed. Together they tried to stand, but the combination of whiskey and the space constraints of the tent sent them crashing back down to the ground. Smacking his knee against the hard dirt, Booth grunted and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stave off the wave of dizziness that washed over him.
Heaving a sigh, he opened his eyes, only to realize his face was only millimeters from his partner’s. When they had fallen, he had landed on top of her, feet tangled and hips pressed together. He could see her icy blue eyes staring at him in the dark and suddenly, he found himself closing the distance between them. His lips brushed lightly against hers once, twice before pressing in harder.
“Booth, what are you doing?” she whispered against his lips.
“Kissing you,” he whispered back.
Brennan had all the reasons why he should stop on the tip of her tongue, but when he kissed her again, the only thing she wanted on her tongue was his.
Booth slid his tongue out over her lower lip, taking in the taste of whiskey and Brennan. She opened her mouth slightly, encouraging his kiss, as her hands slid up his muscular arms and onto his back. She tilted her head to a better angle, kissing him deeply for long minutes, before breaking for a breath.
“This is a bad idea,” she murmured as her partner pressed hot wet kisses along her jaw and neck.
“Probably,” he responded, his tongue flicking out over her earlobe. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” She didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or the man pressed against her but she had never felt this kind of drugged intensity from a few simple kisses before. Making him stop was the last thing she wanted to do, no matter what logic would dictate.
She took his face in her hands and forced his mouth back to hers.
Slipping her tongue into his mouth, she kissed him passionately. Booth echoed her enthusiasm, sucking at her tongue, as he rolled onto his side, taking his weight off her, but still holding her close. No longer having to brace himself on his arms, Booth took the opportunity to run his hands over her sides. The curves that had teased him from beneath her shapeless lab coat were finally under his fingers. Any control or thoughts about lines and partnerships fled at the weight of her breast, perfect in his palm. His hands lost all their finesse, practically groping her, wanting to touch anything and everything all at once.
Brennan responded in kind, pulling at his t-shirt while arching into his touch and nipping at his lips. They parted for a brief moment as the cotton tee was yanked over his head and sent flying, hitting the wall of the tent with a whack.
Now bare-chested, Booth was anxious to see Brennan the same. Fingers made clumsy by booze and desire fumbled at the buttons of her blouse as their mouths continue to move together. When he finally reached the last button, he pulled back from her lips in order to watch as her breasts were revealed to his hungry gaze. Even though it was dark, his eyes had adjusted and he could see just how perfectly formed his partner was.
His admiration of her figure was cut short however as Brennan pushed him onto his back, unhooked her bra and tossed it aside before swinging a leg over his waist. They both groaned as their pelvises aligned and Brennan could feel the level of Booth’s excitement pressing between her thighs.
She bent down to kiss him, but Booth had other plans. Large hands grabbed her ass, pulling her up his chest, as he leaned forward and caught a nipple between his lips. Brennan gasped and arched as he laved attention on her breasts.
Her hips were rocking against him, desire coiling low in her stomach. She knew they were drunk, that this was probably a mistake, but she wanted him and the rest didn’t really seem to matter so much at the moment. Reluctantly, she pulled away from his mouth and went to work on his belt buckle. Her coordination was a little off, but she was nothing if not determined. Within minutes, they were both stripped of their pants and underwear.
Completely naked, Booth pulled his partner back into his arms.
“Bones…..?” Her name was a strangled question as he checked to make sure she didn’t want to stop -- though he was pretty sure they had past the point of no return quite a while ago. As an answer, she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his erection, guiding him into her.
Booth uttered a string of curses as he slid to the hilt inside his partner’s heat. She felt incredibly good around him and he couldn’t believe they had never done this before. How had he denied himself this delight for so many years?
With a grunt, he rolled them over so he was on top, giving him the leverage he wanted to move forcefully inside her. For once, Brennan let him take control, the pleasure coursing through her at each thrust too overwhelming to consider arguing against his alpha-male position. She wrapped her long legs around his waist and held on for the ride.
Booth’s movements were far from smooth, technique and tenderness lost to passion and whiskey, but they were satisfying nonetheless. Brennan soon found herself approaching climax and, desperate to reach her peak, she let her fingers skim down her stomach to find her clit. She groaned and gasped as their combined efforts sent her flying over the precipice with stars behind her eyes. Booth followed shortly after, his body pulled over the edge by hers.
As they came down from their high, the only sounds were their labored breathing and the rain splashing off the tent. Post-coital bliss was settling in and they let it take over, instead of thinking about what they had just done, the consequences it could have on their partnership. Booth took a moment to sit up, unrolling and unzipping the sleeping bag that had been sitting in the corner of the tent. He draped it like a blanket over their naked bodies before they both gave in to the exhaustion tugging at their minds.
Continue on to Part 2.
Fandom: Bones
Pairing: Brennan/Booth
Rating: M/NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to Kathy Reichs and Hart Hanson, et al.
Summary/Notes: Based on the Stars' song "The First Five Times" although I did take a few liberties from the lyrics. I started writing this story ages ago, so I imagined it taking pre or early season 4. The main things that affect time line is that Zack is gone and Angela and Hodgins are together. As always, reviews are loved, appreciated and coveted!
***
First time in the back yard
Underneath the plastic sheeting
Outside it was pouring
And we were drunk as shit
Temperance Brennan rang Booth’s doorbell again impatiently. She knew he was home - the Tahoe was in the driveway - and she needed him to sign off on the paperwork from their latest case. Even though it was Friday night, she didn’t like to leave things undone. It would be hanging over her head all weekend.
She waited for a few more moments before taking out her cell and calling Booth’s number. He picked up between the second and third ring.
“Bones?” he answered.
“Booth, I’m at your front door with some paperwork. Where are you?”
“In the backyard,” he replied, then flicked the phone shut. Slightly puzzled, Brennan stepped off her partner’s front porch and headed towards the gate that led to Booth’s small yard. She was surprised see a tent set up but no Booth. “In here, Bones,” his voice came from inside the tent.
Brennan crossed the yard, heels sinking slightly into the grass, and flipped up the flap of the tent. Her partner was sitting cross-legged in the center of the small tent, an open bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Booth, what are you doing?”
“Just having a drink,” he replied flatly.
“In a tent in your backyard?”
“I was supposed to take Parker camping two weeks ago, but I had to cancel because we were knee-deep in the Damski case. So we were going to do a modified version tonight in the yard. Hence the tent.”
“Were going to?”
“Yeah, were. Rebecca called about an hour ago and said that Park has strep throat and should stay home. Hence the drinking.” He wiggled the bottle, sending the liquid sloshing inside it.
“Drinking alone isn’t healthy, Booth,” she told him.
“So join me. Then I won’t be alone.” She rolled her eyes as he purposely missed her point, but ducked under the tent flap anyway. Smoothing out her slacks as she sat, she accepted the whiskey bottle he offered and took a swig. The alcohol burned down her throat and warmed her chest. She coughed slightly and handed him back the bottle. Booth took a long pull and sighed.
“Pretty soon he’s not going to want to spend Friday nights with his dad anymore. He’s going to want to go out with girls, spend his Friday nights in the back row of a movie theater.”
“His father’s son.” Brennan joked causing Booth to grin momentarily before his moping face fell back into place. “But seriously Booth, he’s seven. I think you have a few more years before you need to worry about that.” She accepted the whiskey bottle again.
“We don’t get to spend that much time together as it. I hate having to cancel plans with him. Now the weather’s getting colder so we probably won’t be able to go camping until next spring. I’m missing my moments, Bones, moments I can’t get back.”
Brennan took a moment to consider all the moments in her life that her father had missed. Although she was slowly rebuilding her relationship with her him, she still hurt from his abandonment. But she could clearly see that Booth would never do to Parker what her father had done to her. “Booth, you are a good father. A camping trip here and there won’t matter in the long run. You are always there for Parker when it’s really important and he knows that.”
“Thanks, Bones.” He sighed, stretching out his long legs and leaning back on his elbows. “So did you ever go camping when you were a kid?”
She took another sip of the whiskey, then leaned back as well, mimicking his position. The alcohol was working its way into her bloodstream, loosening her lips.
“Yes, quite often actually. Russ, my dad and I. We would do some hiking or cycling. My dad would teach us about the rocks and plants. Sometimes we would bring a telescope and look at the stars.”
“Do you know the constellations?” Booth asked.
“Not all of them, but most.”
“Show me,” he commanded, tilting his head back to look at the sky.
“We’re under a tent, Booth.”
“Oh right,” he laughed and took another pull of whiskey. Brennan could tell the alcohol was getting to him and she wondered if he had eaten anything before starting to drink. She hadn’t eaten dinner herself and she could feel the whiskey starting to take effect quickly. She took the bottle when he offered it anyway.
“I spent a lot of time outside in the Rangers. Not a lot of ambient light outside in Al Anbar. It would have been nice to be able to pick out the constellations.” His words surprised Brennan and she turned her head to look at her partner, his profile picked out by the streetlight filtered through the nylon of the tent. He didn’t talk about his time in the Rangers often, but waiting for him to elaborate proved futile because he lapsed into silence.
The pitter-patter of starting rainfall filled the quiet tent and they sat and listened for a long time as the storm picked up, enjoying the whiskey and each other’s company. Brennan shivered, her thin blouse doing little to protect her from the wind coming through the cracks of the tent.
“Cold?” Booth asked.
“A little,” she answered. He scooted a little closer and slung his arm around her shoulders, trying to lend her some of his body heat. She leaned into him and took another slug of whiskey to warm herself. Booth took back the almost empty bottle and finished it off.
“Whiskey’s gone,” he announced.
“We should probably go inside,” Brennan told him, but neither moved. After another few minutes of comfortable silence, Booth spoke.
“Thanks for hanging out tonight. It was nice to have company.”
“No problem. That’s what partners are for, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. But you know, you’re not just my partner, right Bones?” Her blue eyes were wide as she tilted her head up to look at him as she anxiously waited to see where Booth would say next. “You’re my best friend.”
“You’re my best friend too Booth.” Their declarations hung thick in the air for a moment before Brennan added, “just don’t tell Angela.” For some reason, Booth found that hysterical and started to laugh, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest.
“What? What’s so funny?” she asked, but her questions made him laugh harder. “What? I don’t get it.” She was smiling too though, his mirth contagious. Finally, she gave up trying to figure out what was making him laugh besides the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed. “You are drunk, Booth. I should get you inside.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he agreed. Together they tried to stand, but the combination of whiskey and the space constraints of the tent sent them crashing back down to the ground. Smacking his knee against the hard dirt, Booth grunted and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stave off the wave of dizziness that washed over him.
Heaving a sigh, he opened his eyes, only to realize his face was only millimeters from his partner’s. When they had fallen, he had landed on top of her, feet tangled and hips pressed together. He could see her icy blue eyes staring at him in the dark and suddenly, he found himself closing the distance between them. His lips brushed lightly against hers once, twice before pressing in harder.
“Booth, what are you doing?” she whispered against his lips.
“Kissing you,” he whispered back.
Brennan had all the reasons why he should stop on the tip of her tongue, but when he kissed her again, the only thing she wanted on her tongue was his.
Booth slid his tongue out over her lower lip, taking in the taste of whiskey and Brennan. She opened her mouth slightly, encouraging his kiss, as her hands slid up his muscular arms and onto his back. She tilted her head to a better angle, kissing him deeply for long minutes, before breaking for a breath.
“This is a bad idea,” she murmured as her partner pressed hot wet kisses along her jaw and neck.
“Probably,” he responded, his tongue flicking out over her earlobe. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” She didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or the man pressed against her but she had never felt this kind of drugged intensity from a few simple kisses before. Making him stop was the last thing she wanted to do, no matter what logic would dictate.
She took his face in her hands and forced his mouth back to hers.
Slipping her tongue into his mouth, she kissed him passionately. Booth echoed her enthusiasm, sucking at her tongue, as he rolled onto his side, taking his weight off her, but still holding her close. No longer having to brace himself on his arms, Booth took the opportunity to run his hands over her sides. The curves that had teased him from beneath her shapeless lab coat were finally under his fingers. Any control or thoughts about lines and partnerships fled at the weight of her breast, perfect in his palm. His hands lost all their finesse, practically groping her, wanting to touch anything and everything all at once.
Brennan responded in kind, pulling at his t-shirt while arching into his touch and nipping at his lips. They parted for a brief moment as the cotton tee was yanked over his head and sent flying, hitting the wall of the tent with a whack.
Now bare-chested, Booth was anxious to see Brennan the same. Fingers made clumsy by booze and desire fumbled at the buttons of her blouse as their mouths continue to move together. When he finally reached the last button, he pulled back from her lips in order to watch as her breasts were revealed to his hungry gaze. Even though it was dark, his eyes had adjusted and he could see just how perfectly formed his partner was.
His admiration of her figure was cut short however as Brennan pushed him onto his back, unhooked her bra and tossed it aside before swinging a leg over his waist. They both groaned as their pelvises aligned and Brennan could feel the level of Booth’s excitement pressing between her thighs.
She bent down to kiss him, but Booth had other plans. Large hands grabbed her ass, pulling her up his chest, as he leaned forward and caught a nipple between his lips. Brennan gasped and arched as he laved attention on her breasts.
Her hips were rocking against him, desire coiling low in her stomach. She knew they were drunk, that this was probably a mistake, but she wanted him and the rest didn’t really seem to matter so much at the moment. Reluctantly, she pulled away from his mouth and went to work on his belt buckle. Her coordination was a little off, but she was nothing if not determined. Within minutes, they were both stripped of their pants and underwear.
Completely naked, Booth pulled his partner back into his arms.
“Bones…..?” Her name was a strangled question as he checked to make sure she didn’t want to stop -- though he was pretty sure they had past the point of no return quite a while ago. As an answer, she reached between them and wrapped her fingers around his erection, guiding him into her.
Booth uttered a string of curses as he slid to the hilt inside his partner’s heat. She felt incredibly good around him and he couldn’t believe they had never done this before. How had he denied himself this delight for so many years?
With a grunt, he rolled them over so he was on top, giving him the leverage he wanted to move forcefully inside her. For once, Brennan let him take control, the pleasure coursing through her at each thrust too overwhelming to consider arguing against his alpha-male position. She wrapped her long legs around his waist and held on for the ride.
Booth’s movements were far from smooth, technique and tenderness lost to passion and whiskey, but they were satisfying nonetheless. Brennan soon found herself approaching climax and, desperate to reach her peak, she let her fingers skim down her stomach to find her clit. She groaned and gasped as their combined efforts sent her flying over the precipice with stars behind her eyes. Booth followed shortly after, his body pulled over the edge by hers.
As they came down from their high, the only sounds were their labored breathing and the rain splashing off the tent. Post-coital bliss was settling in and they let it take over, instead of thinking about what they had just done, the consequences it could have on their partnership. Booth took a moment to sit up, unrolling and unzipping the sleeping bag that had been sitting in the corner of the tent. He draped it like a blanket over their naked bodies before they both gave in to the exhaustion tugging at their minds.
Continue on to Part 2.