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They had warned him about this when he was getting help for his gambling. A lot of the time addicts would hop from one dangerous coping mechanism to another. Alcoholics got into drugs, druggies got into gambling, gamblers got into alcohol. It was a vicious cycle of shared weakness that had always scared the shit out of him.
That wouldn’t be him- he wouldn’t let it be.
Yes, he drank; but never to the point where he’d slip (he wasn’t his father. He’d rather die than become his father). He never indulged in recreational drugs (he’d tried it once, when he was deployed. The smoke hurt his lungs and the high just gave him anxiety. Not good for a sniper.)
And he never- never looked back at gambling. He stayed a good boy; made sure to keep his pockets closed and jaw tight when he passed a pool table.
He was a good man.
He wouldn’t slip.
It’s a shame he never noticed that he already had.
He’d replaced that desire to gamble, that tug to pull the lever one more time, to put in a few extra chips cause his cards felt lucky; he’d gone and replaced it all with her. That wonderful, delightful, brilliant, infuriating woman.
Dr. Temperance Brennan had become an addiction.
A nasty one at that; one that he knew he’d never be able to quit no matter the counseling, no matter what he tried to fill his mind with instead.
It was always just.
Her.
It was tortuous and sweet, those moments of genuine tenderness between the two of them enough to keep him at her side like a loyal dog; ready to kill at her command but kneel at her feet for the slightest scrap of softness- desperate for something that he could read further into, for something to replay in his head at night. He was addicted; despite the bite in his chest anytime she gave one of those teasing smiles to another man, despite the ache of loneliness and hunger when she’d set her hand on his- tilting her head to catch his eyes and offer those endearingly stilted words of comfort that only Bones could manage.
She was an addiction, just like drugs, alcohol, or gambling. Special Agent Seeley Booth was once again horribly addicted and this time he knew he would never be able to pull himself free from it.
He was hers till his last breath.
-And it was painful, it was excruciating. That longing. Those low burning embers between them that they both refused to fan for so fucking long. You couldn’t even say they danced around it- they just stood on the hot coals and pretended like their feet weren’t on fire. It was a torture he’d never experienced even in all his years of service and one that did more to break him than anything seedy government officials or double-agents put him through.
And when that moment came- when they finally gave in. It wasn’t like a dam had broke, it wasn’t a passionate crash of attracting magnets that had been held at a breath’s width apart.
It was a sigh of relief.
It was the two of them grabbing the other’s hand, palm in palm, and stepping off of those burning coals together. It was two people, both broken in their own ways- sitting across from each other on a comfortable couch and putting band-aids on the other’s scratches; icing one another’s bruises while bickering quietly- smiles soft and touches tethered to the other’s form as though the slightest distance between them would cause the other to fade.
He was addicted.
(And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.)
It was hard to believe that Temperance Brennan could ever be a bad thing when they were together like this; limbs tangled, sheets and blankets long since cast to the ground. Everything was slow, exploratory. Promises had been made that first time they met, that first case- the two of them standing out in the rain with nothing but their own dignities separating them.
This was him keeping that promise- kisses heavy and warm as they ventured from her lips towards her neck, her chest. She was talking about something (god he loved her voice) even when she rambled about who knows what while he tasted the salty tang of her skin under his tongue. She was trying to hold her focus, even now- when they had nothing left to hide; no reason to hold themselves apart, Bones scrambled to keep a wall up.
He wasn’t even sure she knew she was doing it. Her finger skittered almost nervously along his spine- remarking on the ratio of his shoulders to his hips with a voice that was just a touch too breathy to be casual. Booth only hummed, unable to stop the pleased twitch of his lips when her nails dug into his side as he fastened his mouth over a nipple.
He was addicted.
He was home.
They continued like that. Bones talking: her words steady despite the fact that he could feel her heart beating profoundly each time he pressed another soft touch to the spot just above it. Bones often enjoyed pointing out that feelings- that love didn't come from the heart but in fact the brain. But in this moment he couldn't help but feel a twinge of disbelief as her heart thudded wildly with each kiss, as though trying to leap from her chest and into his palm.
He could feel her impatience building, fingers beginning to run through his hair- pulling his mouth harder against hers as she fought to control the speed; fought to pull him into a frenzy of passion that would make it easier to discard in the morning. A failsafe- an out where she could laugh it off as too much alcohol or simply adrenaline when she woke (even though they both know it would take more than half a glass of wine to muddle that brilliant mind of hers).
She wanted this, Booth knew she wanted this.
And he wouldn’t let her scare herself out of it.
“Patience, Temperance” he mumbled quietly against her mouth- gently loosening her grip in his hair so that he could press his lips against the delicate skin of the inside of her wrist. (God she was perfect.)
“Booth, if you’re purposefully going slow because I pointed out that, on average, a grown man in his thirties only engages in coitus for an average of six minutes then-“
“No, Bones. It’s not that.” He pulled away just enough to look down at her- to let her look at him. He smiled, the same crooked smile that always got her to soften up cause she called it ‘boyishly handsome’ and slid down her body. Broad, calloused palms ran along the outsides of her bare thighs, the roughness of his skin catching on her smooth calves as he kneeled between her legs.
“Just let me take my time, okay?” He wrapped his hand around one of her ankles- carefully tugging it till her leg lay over his bare shoulder. He broke eye contact first, unable to resist the temptation of seeing her spread out before him.
“I want you to know.” He couldn’t help himself as he turned his head to press a kiss into her thigh- reveling in the small choked breath that escaped her.
He didn’t know if she was ready for him to say it. And that was okay- he didn’t have to say it right now, he didn’t have to say it until she was ready. But he wanted her to know- he needed her to know.
That he loved her.
That he was so wholly, tortuously in love with her and that he was willing to piecemeal that love to her bit by bit till she knew.
Till she knew just how much he was consumed by her.
“I know.”
He didn’t think he’d ever heard her voice so quiet before. She was such a sight, laid out before him- hair fanned over the pillows and skin the slightest bit pink from exertion despite the rather tame nature of their make out session. She looked like a painting from one of the masters; Van Gogh, or Monet, or whatever famous artist made famous paintings of beautiful women. She put every single work of art to shame.
“Then you’ll let me show you.” he laughed, reverent, before leaning forwards and pressing his mouth to her.
The noise she made was heaven as he laved, slow and patient along her opening; brown eyes locked with hers as he worshiped her with his mouth. His gaze was awed, his lips fastening on to her clit as he mumbled praises (or maybe they were prayers) against her flesh.
Bones was rapidly losing her will to hold up that wall- to keep those last vestiges of her heart concealed. “Did you know there are- fuck there are eight thousand nerve endings in- fuck-” her body curled forwards, defensive almost as he let his mouth slide down to tongue at her once more.
Each press of his lips- ‘I love you’ ‘I love you’- over and over again he let those words fuel each action, each kiss, each swipe of a tongue. She needed to know. Even if she wasn’t ready to hear it- Booth would be damned if she didn’t feel it.
Her breaths became quick- the leg that was strewn across his shoulder beginning to bend at the knee, her heel pressing into his shoulder and pulling him further into that all-consuming beauty.
I love you. I love you
He moved his hand- pressing a singular thick finger into her- and her body arched. His name was on her tongue and he could feel her entire body shake as he fastened his mouth on to her once more.
I love you.
Gone were her rambling words and irrelevant facts- her walls of anxiety, of a distrust so deep it had forced her to lock her heart under layer upon layer of rational thought. Gone was the push for something faster- something more careless that she could play off in the morning.
Now it was just the two of them, his name echoing in the apartment as he crooked his fingers, doubling down with that slow heavy passion. She deserved this- she deserved a break from that brilliant mind- from those thoughts that always seemed six steps ahead of the rest of the world, from the fear and anxiety and chaos of everything outside of this bedroom, this moment.
And Booth was all too happy to provide that for her.
I love you.
His free hand slipped down towards his own neglected arousal as he continued to lave desperately, hungrily at her- pushing her once again past that edge as he began to work himself harshly. This was for her- it was all for her, anything for himself came as an afterthought.
I love you.
He could feel her fingers scrabbling down towards him, trying to pull that sinful mouth away from her core in an attempt to recover.
I love you.
Booth only redoubled his efforts, fingers picking up pace in time with the pitch of her moans and the stroke of his hand along his cock.
Please. I need you to understand-
Bones’ hands frantically searched for purchase- still weakly attempting to pull him off of her as he continued like a man starved-
“Seeley- I can’t-“
He pulled back only to beg, fingers still working at that devastating pace. “One more, Temperance- please. Let go for me, one more- just give me one more.”
He pleaded, his voice sounding rough and foreign to his own ears as he felt herself give in- nails digging sharply into his scalp as he worked himself harder in tandem with the crook of his fingers and laps of his tongue. Her body arched against him, rigid with pleasure as she soaked his face with the evidence of her orgasm. Booth was only half a second behind, pulling away to stare at her reverently as he stroked himself, expression soft as he took in every part of her-
Their eyes locked and he was gone.
I love you.
He leaned forwards, biting harshly into the meat of her inner thigh as he came- the sound of her surprised moan barely registering as he finished; panting heavy and hard against her flesh as they both settled back into their skin. The world transmuted slowly into something more solid around them as their hearts slowed and breathing began to ease. It was oddly quiet without the moans and salacious sounds of sex but it was peaceful.
She was peaceful.
Every part of her was lax and eased, eyes lidded and expression so tender and open and vulnerable that it made his whole body ache with so much fucking adoration.
Booth pressed a soft kiss to the already purpling teeth marks against her thigh- a quiet apology.
I love you.
She sighed, brain blissfully empty and entire being content before extending her arms out to him. Like an angel from the heavens above; she offered him salvation- she redeemed his soul, she purified him.
And he fell into her embrace- a devout man.
I love you.
They were silent. Simply basking in each other’s warmth and letting everything else in the world take a backseat for a while. Their hands were threaded together, their legs tangled- he didn’t bother trying to keep his weight off of her, instead letting their two bodies press into one another as though they could erase the lines that divided them.
Bones closed her eyes, fingernails scraping comfortably against his scalp as her breaths turned long and slow. She gave the short strands the tiniest little tug- her nose bumping into his cheek with a soft laugh as she pressed a borderline chaste kiss to the edge of his mouth.
I love you too.