Salt (Ficlet #31)
Feb. 12th, 2008 05:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
only_more_loveTitle: Salt (Ficlet #31)
Characters: Booth, Brennan
Series: All That Lies Between Us
Written for:50scenes
Prompt: #21 (Underneath)
Rating: T or PG-13
Table: #5
Word Count: 353
Timeline: Future
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Click here to read the other drabbles in this series.
The vibration from the door slamming shut wakes Brennan from the light slumber she fell into while waiting for Booth to return from the gym. She pushes herself upright on his couch, feeling her muscles protest.
"Hey." The floor creaks as he walks toward her.
"Hi," she replies, blinking up at Booth and trying to shake off the vestiges of a dream that has left her warm and slightly aroused, though she can't recall any specific images, just impressions.
They only exchanged keys last week, so this--being in his apartment when he isn't there--still feels strange.
"You have a good nap?" Booth grasps the hem of his gray t-shirt and pulls it up to wipe his face.
The flash of skin and abdominal muscle leaves her distracted. "Hm," she says, struggling to focus. Parts of the shirt are stained a darker gray, and she knows he had a good workout. His face is flushed, his hair damp and messy. But it has always been his dark eyes and facile mouth that have drawn her steadily toward the precipice.
When they were partners, she'd carefully controlled whatever impulses she had to touch him, surrendering only under the guise of needing comfort. But they'd eventually crossed those imaginary lines and fallen headlong into the territory of lovers. Now here they are, and there is no one to see them, no one to stop them as the fading light of the sun moves over them both.
It is, after all, a lover's prerogative to touch the object of her desire, she tells herself, standing and sliding her hands under his shirt and over hot, moist skin.
"Bones, I'm sweaty."
"I know," she murmurs against his pulse. "I like it." Tasting salt, she shudders. More than anything, she wants to crawl underneath his skin, but that isn't possible, so she'll settle for this.
The hunger terrifies her, but that doesn't keep her from pushing him until his back kisses the wall. Bending, she reaches for the waistband of his shorts.
"Bones."
She looks up at him.
"Bones..."
She smiles.
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who encouraged me when I was feeling less than good about my writing; I really appreciate it. I forced myself to push through it, and this is what came out.
"Hey." The floor creaks as he walks toward her.
"Hi," she replies, blinking up at Booth and trying to shake off the vestiges of a dream that has left her warm and slightly aroused, though she can't recall any specific images, just impressions.
They only exchanged keys last week, so this--being in his apartment when he isn't there--still feels strange.
"You have a good nap?" Booth grasps the hem of his gray t-shirt and pulls it up to wipe his face.
The flash of skin and abdominal muscle leaves her distracted. "Hm," she says, struggling to focus. Parts of the shirt are stained a darker gray, and she knows he had a good workout. His face is flushed, his hair damp and messy. But it has always been his dark eyes and facile mouth that have drawn her steadily toward the precipice.
When they were partners, she'd carefully controlled whatever impulses she had to touch him, surrendering only under the guise of needing comfort. But they'd eventually crossed those imaginary lines and fallen headlong into the territory of lovers. Now here they are, and there is no one to see them, no one to stop them as the fading light of the sun moves over them both.
It is, after all, a lover's prerogative to touch the object of her desire, she tells herself, standing and sliding her hands under his shirt and over hot, moist skin.
"Bones, I'm sweaty."
"I know," she murmurs against his pulse. "I like it." Tasting salt, she shudders. More than anything, she wants to crawl underneath his skin, but that isn't possible, so she'll settle for this.
The hunger terrifies her, but that doesn't keep her from pushing him until his back kisses the wall. Bending, she reaches for the waistband of his shorts.
"Bones."
She looks up at him.
"Bones..."
She smiles.
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who encouraged me when I was feeling less than good about my writing; I really appreciate it. I forced myself to push through it, and this is what came out.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-02-12 10:42 pm (UTC)Possession is nine-tenths of the law...
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Date: 2008-02-12 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-12 10:44 pm (UTC)Brings a whole new meaning to my icon.
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Date: 2008-02-12 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-12 10:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-12 10:52 pm (UTC)Thanks, Donna. It may very well be pedestrian, derivative, boring, and just plain bad, but it's mine, damn it.
Brings a whole new meaning to my icon.
:D
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Date: 2008-02-12 10:58 pm (UTC)Did someone say this to you? Because just point them out to me, I will kick them in the shins.
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Date: 2008-02-13 12:23 am (UTC)Um, yeah, ditto for me. I heart your fic so much. And I'm seriously picky about my fic. In fact, I can't seem to ever find ANY Bones fic I like except yours.
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Date: 2008-02-19 05:59 pm (UTC)Brings a whole new meaning to my icon.
LOL Yup, it certainly does. :D
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Date: 2008-02-12 10:51 pm (UTC)I'm not sure what struggles you had, but I think this turned out wonderfully. I really love the image of her taking a nap at his place without him there. It's just so normal.
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Date: 2008-02-12 10:58 pm (UTC)That's pretty much what I've got to say.
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Date: 2008-02-12 11:43 pm (UTC)I haven't write you before because... well... first of all... my write english is horrible (don't talk about speak english), but I read it very fast and I can understand it (that's other reason for read you: learning). In other hand I don't feel very comfortable about blogs. I know, look who talk, I check this place every day. But... I don't know you and I don't feel very well reading your life it's...weird... I'm a mess. Just I put myself in your place and think: Why is this girl across the ocean reading me? And I don't know if I'd like that.
Ok. This is getting long. Just say you that YOU ARE A GOOD WRITER. I don't know if that is your job or is a hobby, nor you're a books writer or a news writer or what... Aswell, I can tell you you're good with people and you've got wanderful ideas (Wendnesday Smiles). So... when you feel less than good think you've readers around the world...
I'll be waiting for your fics...
Besos.
Julia. (yluxjf@hotmail.com)
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Date: 2008-02-13 12:34 am (UTC)It seems to me that someone bullied you into thinking you're not good. Too bad, since there are so many crappy fanfic writers that shouldn't write anymore - and perhaps someone might think the same of me, since my skills are not nearly as god as I wanted them to be. But to bad that won't stop me.
What I wanted to say is that you shouldn't allow that. Yes, some will consider what you write as bad writing, but yu don't have to accept it. I've learnt it the hard way and now I allow myself to first of all enjoy what I write and then, consequently, people will like it as well. If they don't, too bad, I do. But you get what I mean? I'm not justing writing that, I hope you believe when I say I mean it. It annoys me some people being way too arrogant to tell the others they suck and how that steal their perspective. I know I've spent way too much time encouraging students who are more talented then people made they believe they were. And the same goes here. Trust me on that, I know what i'm talking about :)
Keep writing!
no subject
Date: 2008-02-13 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-13 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-13 01:21 am (UTC)Never doubt your talent: you're a fabulous, fabulous, writer. ::hugs::
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Date: 2008-02-13 01:40 am (UTC)Wow...
*shakes head to clear thoughts*
Sure, throw that in there and expect me to string together two words to let you know how much I adore this fic.
Wow.
:)
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Date: 2008-02-13 02:08 am (UTC)Yes, there is a 12yr old boy who lives inside me, and he keeps me smirking at the most absurd times :P
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Date: 2008-02-13 02:36 am (UTC)You win at life, Piper. That is all.
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Date: 2008-02-13 02:14 am (UTC)and...
The hunger terrifies her, but that doesn't keep her from pushing him until his back kisses the wall.
What I like about this so much is how you show the inner workings of Brennan's mind, a woman on a precipice. Sure, she can be an animal in the sack. Distanced passion she has always been good at. But she's also learned to trust another human being. And now the merging of the two brings on a whole new territory for her. The trepidation she feels for the truely frightening event of being able to safely objectify her very human love... wow. Deep.
Bending, she reaches for the waistband of his shorts.
And well, that was just hot. :) Tee-hee... :)
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Date: 2008-02-13 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-19 04:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-13 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-19 04:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-13 09:27 am (UTC)thank you again for the Booth and Brennan you are writing so realistically , they have helped me get in the characters and love them even more.
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Date: 2008-02-19 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-13 07:18 pm (UTC)The flash of skin and abdominal muscle leaves her distracted.
I'm sure Booth would have that effect on all of us :)
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Date: 2008-02-19 05:37 pm (UTC)I suspect you're right about that, Elena. ;)
Thanks for commenting!
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Date: 2008-02-13 08:55 pm (UTC)P.S. I blame the bad!fic splurge you had last week for the sudden self doubt you experienced.
Frankly, my dear, you have nothing to worry about. Your phrasing and timing are nothing short of perfect, making this old bat decidedly hot under the collar. Every time.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-19 05:46 pm (UTC)You could be right about the bad!fic episodes triggering the feelings of discouragement about my writing. Writing means a lot to me, and I've spent a long time trapped in my own self-doubt. I think it's good to view your work with a critical eye, but there's a fine line between being critical and blocking yourself. That's something I struggle with. I'm sure I'm not alone in this. :)
Thanks for your encouragement, Sara.
...making this old bat decidedly hot under the collar.
Old bat? Surely not that. *giggles*
SALT
Date: 2008-02-13 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-14 04:01 pm (UTC)Thanks for the hot sweaty visuals in this drabble and thanks for giving us all something to look forward to...something we can count on. Reading is a leap of faith and with you it never feels that way because I trust you.
Look at how OFTEN you write... If I wrote even half as often I'm sure I'd only be satisfied with a a handful of fic. So, to question yourself is normal. I'm my own worst critic for sure. So, I'm glad you pushed through the block and kept going. Sometimes being challenged is when we are at our best.
no subject
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