Laundry Day and the Sock Dilemma (Rated M)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own nor am I involved with the production of Bones. On the plus side, I work cheap so if Hart Hanson and Company are reading this - call me.

Synopsis: It’s laundry night at Booth’s place when a sudden urge strikes his fancy. Hilarity and smut ensue.

A/N: This started out as a drabble written for Withthevampiresofcourse. The prompt for this piece came from a tweet exchange of ours regarding what I was, or wasn't wearing at the time. Somehow it grew from a simple drabble to an almost crack fic with just the teensiest smidgen of smut mixed in. Anyway, enjoy kiddies.

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Cursing again the fact that his super still hadn’t replaced the shower in his en suite, Booth padded across the cold tile floor of the guest bath and grimaced as each step sent a chill straight to the aching bones of his feet. He stepped lively across the bare floorboards in the living room, making his way to the bedroom, with the towel knotted around his waist flapping in the breeze. The cool night air licked at his skin, sending shivers through his body and raising gooseflesh wherever trailing droplets of water lingered. He sighed in frustration; the shower had been gloriously hot but all too short for his liking.

He’d soaked in the heat of the near scalding water as it washed over him, stripping the soap from his lathered body, forming rivulets as it cascaded down his muscled limbs, flowing over the contours of his sculpted chest and abdomen, spilling between his legs where the torrent of water and soap felt wondrously erotic wrapped around his engorged member. It felt so good that he imagined it was Brennan in the shower with him, her mouth on his cock, her tongue languorously licking his full length, trailing wetly around the glans…Booth shook his head violently to free himself of that memory, and reached for the window sash. Slamming it shut on the cold night air, he couldn’t help but think that locking it shut was akin to locking away that memory.

Shivering involuntarily, whether from the cool atmosphere of his bedroom or the thoughts that lingered between his legs, Booth turned toward his dresser, and reached down to the middle drawer.

“Damn!” He cursed himself for having forgotten that everything else was in the wash.

It was laundry day and he’d let himself run too low again. No clean socks, no clean boxers, no clean tees. Just an aching pair of feet, a damp towel, and what looked like a balled up pair of cotton jogging socks stuck in one corner next to a lonely tube sock. Snatching them up Booth flopped onto his bed, and with a vicious yank on the knot at his hip, the towel wrapped around his waist fell open. The cool air of his bedroom caused his distended member to twitch and thicken. With a grunt Booth pulled one leg up, crossing it over the other and set to work.

He took the first aching foot in his hands and began kneading and manipulating the stiff flesh until he felt the bones shifting. ‘Metatarsals’ he chuckled, thinking how Brennan would correct him for saying ‘foot bones’. ‘Proximal Phalanges’ he thought as his fingers pushed and pulled at the base of his toes. Grasping his big toe and pulling hard he sighed, feeling the pressure ease off as he milked the fluid from the swollen joint. ‘No, not just a joint, the Proximal Interphalangeal Joint.’ He couldn’t help but wonder what Brennan would say if she found out just how much he actually knew about the skeletal system. Slipping on one of the jogging socks he dropped that cloth clad foot and turned his attention to the other one, wishing he had the money for heated floors.


Lying back on his bed, sock clad feet still firmly on the floor, Booth’s mind wandered back to the enticing memory of how good the water felt between his legs, and the fantasy he’d constructed of Brennan being there with him. A bitter sigh escaped his lips. It had been years, literally years since a woman had touched him the way that he yearned for Brennan to touch him, and though he needed the release he just couldn’t stand the idea of feeling his hands once again doing the job that he knew was meant for her hands, her mouth, her sex.

In resignation he reached into his nightstand and retrieved the bottle of KY he used for lubricant. He squeezed a liberal amount of the warming gel into his hand and slathered it all over his cock, working slowly up and down the shaft, varying the pressure and grip when he slipped his fingers over the knobby head, or brought them around tight behind the glans. He watched in quiet desperation as his member responded to a touch it knew all too well, getting hard but never hard enough, feeling good but never good enough. After fifteen minutes he became convinced he’d never cum. His cock was hard enough, glistening from lubricant and pre-cum. The head was a dark angry red that suited his mood perfectly, but no matter what he tried, hard or soft, fast or slow, light touch or death grip, nothing worked. His cock stood out like a ship’s mast, but there was no breeze to fill the sails. He was becalmed.

Turning away in disgust his eyes fell upon the lone tube sock at the edge of the bed.

“Why not?” he muttered, and reached out to grab the sock. praying this would do the trick.

He grabbed the bottle of KY again, squeezing another generous measure over the head of his twitching penis. Shaking out the sock he shoved the bottle inside and pinched it until the sides touched, fairly flooding the cotton-nylon tube with lubricant. Slowly he slid the sock down the full length of his cock, gasping at the feel of the material, at once both rough and smooth, as it encompassed him completely.

Grasping his cloth covered member loosely, he slowly began to jack himself, luxuriating in the contrasting sensations that were everywhere and all at once. It was like being encased in velvet sandpaper and the friction of his stroking only made things slicker, hotter, better.

With one leg pulled up on the bed, his free hand found its way between his thighs where it busied itself tugging roughly on his heavy sac, squeezing his balls in ecstasy. Within minutes the combination of sensations was pushing Booth to the edge of what he was sure would be one of the best orgasms he’d had in months.
But while his hands were busy between his legs, in his mind it was the fantasy from the shower. Images of Brennan between his legs, a soft knocking sound in the background, his Bones lavishing her attention on his bone… ‘Wait, a soft knocking sound?’ Pushing that random thought aside, Booth re-focused on the fantasy, Brennan kneeling in front of him, her mouth on him, her teeth nipping the most sensitive flesh, her lips kissing away the sting, the gently sound of a buzzer sounding. ‘A buzzer? Ah shit.’

Growling and cursing in frustration, Booth bolted upright at the sound of the washing machine buzzer. It called to him, urged him to flee the bedroom because the rinse cycle was starting. ‘God, why me?’ his angry thoughts demanded an answer, but all he got was the buzzer. In frustration he left the room wearing nothing but the socks on his feet and the one that encased his very prominent erection.

Jogging to the washer his penis beat against his thighs like a metronome, the sensation of the cloth clad cock striking his thighs as he ran sent electric shocks through his body with each hit.

When he actually got to the washing machine he was practically cross-eyed from arousal, and his skin was crawling with need. Not even thinking, he poured at least a double shot of fabric softener into the wash, twisted the dial to start the next cycle and slammed the lid home.

No sooner was that task done when the oven timer went off. Groaning about injustice Booth dashed to the kitchen in hopes of saving his dinner. He was coherent enough to grab two hot pads before he yanked the oven door down. The heat barely registered as he pulled the lasagna free and set it on the stove to cool, though his chest was beaded with perspiration, it wasn’t due to that particular kind of heat.

Booth was giddy with anticipation as he set off for the bedroom again, eager to finish what promised to be a truly satisfying self induced orgasm. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the doorbell.

Mindless from lust, blinded by need, he stalked toward the door and nearly pulled it free from its hinges as he slammed it open.

“WHAT?!” He roared at the person standing there before him…the very surprised person…who looked a lot like Bones…his Bones. ‘Oh fuck.’

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Well I don't normally do cliffhangers, but I'm not posting the rest of this until tomorrow...having some issues with the finish, just not satisfying enough for me yet. Anyhoo, let me know what all y'all think.

RM

LOL! The laundry dilemma!! Is it appropriate to use 'agony' NOW?

Ahh, time for the rest of the story, hope you all enjoy:

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Brennan hadn’t planned on coming back to DC early. Her publisher had a suite for her at The Mark and it was paid for until Monday. Her itinerary had her staying in New York until Monday, just to have some time for herself, but here she was, back in DC three days early and standing at Booth’s door. She missed him and she wanted him. That realization, missing him, wanting him, yearning for his touch, drove her back to DC, back to him. She wasn’t sure why, but once she’d come to that particular realization nothing else made sense.

She must have spent ten minutes standing there, working up the nerve to knock and when he didn’t answer she was almost relieved. It was stupid of her to think he’d be home on a Friday night, and she felt a perfect fool knowing he was probably out with some slinky blond lawyer getting ready to have sex.

Brennan knew she had no right to any expectations, she shouldn’t be feeling jealous or let down, but she wanted him so badly. She’d been gone for just over two weeks on the East Coast leg of her book tour, and she simply couldn’t stand it anymore, she had to see Booth. She needed to see him and when he didn’t answer the door it was like someone took her breath away. Slumped against the wall in defeat Brennan never realizing she’d fallen against the doorbell.

Then Booth opened the door, barked out his greeting, and Brennan’s breath caught in her throat. She’d thought about him many times, in many ways, since she’d left town. She’d daydreamed and fantasized about seeing him again, about his door opening to reveal him wearing his tightest pair of black jeans with his favorite wife beater tossed loosely over one shoulder so she could really appreciate the smooth lines of his torso, his muscular definition, the contours of his chest.
She’d never imagined him quite like this.

She’d thought of him panting and sweating, his chest heaving, she’d dreamt of that look of lust in his eyes. She just never envisioned all that and socks. Nothing but socks. Three socks to be exact, one of which was rather strategically placed over his…oh my.

“Um, hi Booth.”

Brennan gave him a small wave, her face contorted in a rictus of conflicting emotions, both humor and desire struggling for control. Desire sparked by the sight of a nearly naked Seeley Booth standing in the doorway, looking at her with lust in his eyes. Humor because, well, socks.

“Bones.” He ground the word out.

“So, have I caught you at a bad time?” She arched one perfectly formed eyebrow at his prominent sock, her mouth twisting into a coquettish smile as she did so. Desire won out.

Booth didn’t respond at first, his mind was working over all the possible ways this was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to see him naked. She wasn’t supposed to be flirting with him. She sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be leaning in his doorway looking the part of a 40’s film noire siren on the hunt, giving him the once over like he was a piece of meat and she hadn’t eaten in months. She wasn’t supposed to, but she was - all of those things. Managing to keep a mask of disinterest in place he stepped out of the doorway to let her in.

“I was doing some laundry.” He squeaked, so much for disinterest. “I, uh, let it get away from me.”

“Hmm, looks like you have it well in hand to me.”

Brennan entered his apartment, her hand trailing across his chest as she walked on by. She smiled at the way his body involuntarily shivered beneath her fingertips.

“You know this is a happy coincidence.” Brennan smiled at him the way a cat smiles at a canary.

“Um, what?” His mind was a fog of lust, desire, embarrassment and need.

“Well it just so happens that everything I packed for my trip is dirty. You wouldn’t mind if I did a load too, would you Seeley?”

“J-just one load?”

Booth was trying to control the urge to throw her down and ravish her just then. The fact that he was standing there just three socks from being buck ass naked no longer even registered. The only things that mattered now were her scent, her heat, the way she was looking at him and the sound of her voice as she purred his name.
Brennan couldn’t help the wanton smile as she leaned in, pressing her lips against his ear, the feeling as his body went rigid.

“Well, actually I was thinking more like three or four…and of course I have some hand washables.”

Her tongue snaked out, tracing the edges of his earlobe before sucking it into her mouth. Her teeth scraped over the tender flesh before she released it with a pop. Booth couldn’t help the moan that escaped and when she began kissing her way along his jaw line he lost it.

“Fuck Bones!”

“Mmm, that is the general idea Seeley.”

Catching her in his arms, he spun them about until their bodies fell heavily against the door. A predatory growl escaped as he crashed into her lips. Booth took her lower lip between his teeth and bit down none too gently, his incisors sank into the tender flesh and pulled a long low moan from her as her mouth fell open. His tongue darted inside, raking over her teeth, probing her mouth, teasing her and Brennan let out a mewling moan. The kiss deepened and she reveled in the feel of his mouth on hers. The taste of him that stirred something inside her and the feel of the silken muscle as it ravaged her mouth set her core on fire.

Brennan slid one hand into his hair, and cupping the back of his head pulled tight, sealing them together. The other followed the contour of his chest, her fingers digging into the thick muscle while her thumb ghosted circles around his nipple. Booth groaned in approval, and buried his hands in her auburn tresses, and ground his hips against hers rhythmically pulling whimpers and moans as her arousal grew more urgent.

When oxygen became an issue Booth pushed her back roughly, bouncing her head off the door though neither seemed to notice.

“Clothes. Now.”

Booth’s husky voice set Brennan’s hands in motion, but her fingers fumbled nervously with the buttons on her blouse. Booth pushed her hands away and grabbed the thin cotton material of her blouse, shredding it with a quick hard pull.

“I’ll get you a new one.” Booth panted against her neck.

“Fuck, who cares…”

Brennan moaned louder as he lay a sucking kiss on the pulse point at the base of her throat. Her hands clutched desperately at Booth’s shoulders as his hands went to work on her jeans while his mouth continued to ravish the column of her throat. Moments later he had them pushed down past her knees and when the sweet musky scent of her arousal hit him, Booth’s eyes rolled back in his head and a low guttural growl erupted from his throat. His head dropped to a satin covered breast and he hungrily sucked the nipple through the sheer fabric, his tongue swirling over it until it pebbled rock hard from his ministrations.

Her head thrashing to and fro from the feel of his hands and mouth and tongue on her body, Brennan reached down blindly and grabbed for his sock covered cock, grasping it hard in her hand she began stroking him, her blunt nails raking him through the cloth covering until he bucked in her hand.

“Shit! Oh fuck Bones…baby you gotta stop.” Booth was gasping for breath, having jerked his hips away from Brennan. She stroked him again, slowly. “Stop baby, please, or this is gonna be over before it starts.”

“Then get inside me, now Seeley…I need you, now.”

Grunting his approval to that idea Booth pushed her panties farther down her legs while Brennan shimmied her ass in a vain attempt to help. Seconds later her panties and his sock hit the floor and her legs wrapped around his ass. Pressed together, his throbbing erection was trapped between them as Booth cupped her mound, running his fingers through the damp thatch of curls, sliding them over the sensitive bundle of nerves, and between her slick folds. Dipping a finger into her heat, Booth moaned along with her.

“God baby, you’re so fucking wet.”

“Booth…please…”

The sound of her voice begging him was possibly the greatest aphrodisiac known to man, and without a second thought he pressed the head of his swollen cock against her arousal. Brennan’s answering whimper was like a starter’s gun, and in one single swift stroke Booth sheathed himself inside her.

Brennan gasped in wonder, feeling his full length slide into her, stretching her, filling her up the way no man ever had before. The act of sex had never felt so right, she’d never felt so complete, so connected to anyone as she felt connected to Booth. She sought out his eyes, wanting to see the comforting warmth in those chocolaty orbs, but when their gazes locked she suddenly felt breathless. Gone was the comforting brown she’d always known, these eyes were near black with wanton desire and need. They raked over her face and bore into her soul, devouring her. She flushed with heat from head to toe from that look alone, and when he said her name in that husky timbre, calling to her with reverent desire, it was gasoline on the fire.

Booth stood stock still, pressed flush against Brennan, holding her against the door, his aching erection buried deep inside her, struggling to calm himself lest a sudden movement end things prematurely. He’d nearly regained control when she looked at him. Her eyes had grown so wide, their color so deep, it was like looking into an ocean of deep, dark blue. He could see the storm raging behind them, the tsunami of feelings building within her, and all he wanted to do was ride that wave. Then it struck.

Brennan ground her hips against his, encouraging him to move, and Booth answered the call to action by pumping into her with slow measured strokes. He set a slow, steady pace and each time they joined Brennan ground her hips against him, causing Booth to moan her name until it became a chant of love, “Bones…Bones…Bones…”

Brennan felt like she was going insane. Booth’s mouth, when not fixed to her neck or bruising her lips, was busy sucking, nipping, and laving her nipples. His hands alternated between fisting her hair and teasing her sides, breasts, and ass, and his cock, his glorious cock, was stretching her so fully, yet sliding in and out at such deliberate pace that it served only to stoke the fires of desire, and did nothing to satisfy her. She would grind her hips against him, but his angle of attack gave her no relief. She would try to use her hands but whenever they left his chest or shoulders he would capture them and pin them above her head. He seemed intent on fucking her only to drive her mad, making her hotter, wetter, and more turned on than she’d ever been before in her life with no relief in sight.

“Boooth!” Brennan moaned giving voice to her frustration, but all he did was roll his hips in response, sending more shockwaves into her straining heat. “Fuck Booth, please…faster…oh God faster please!”

Sucking hard on one of her cloth covered nipples, he bit down as she begged him to go faster and smiled against the satin as she shuddered in response.

“I don’t know baby, this is just the first load…we’ve got a lot more laundry to do.”
Booth choked back a groan as her head dropped to the join of his neck, and her teeth sank into his trapezius and sucked him hard enough to hurt just right.

“Seeley” Brennan purred in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine that threatened to totally undo him, “If you don’t start fucking me like you mean it? You’ll be doing all your laundry by hand.”

Booth’s head jerked back so he could see her face clearly, their eyes connected and he saw the want he felt, reflected back in hers. Grunting, “Hang on Bones” Booth shifted his approach and picked up speed.

Brennan heard his rough voice, thick with a need she knew only too well, and dug her fingers into his deltoids in anticipation. Booth’s hands trailed down her sides until they were cupping the bottom of her perfectly formed ass. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of her thighs and pulled her tight against him only to drive into her seconds later, slamming her body back against the door.

She hit the door hard, her head bouncing off it for the second time that night but the impact wasn’t what had her seeing stars. Booth was pistoning into her with growing need, setting an aggressive pace that promised to grow faster and faster until he spun them both out of control.

He adjusted his grip and lifted her higher, and Brennan sucked her lower lip between her teeth, fighting to maintain control of the onrush of heat that flooded her core. Her walls grasped at him each time he withdrew and fluttered around him every time he returned. Every stroke into her slick heat made his head swim, and the scent of her arousal was so strong he could taste it on her skin.

A glance into her eyes showed how close she was, but he needed her to break before he did. Booth shifted his hips so he could drive up into her, and started pounding into her throbbing pussy. Pistoning into her, the head of his cock was hitting that rigid spot inside that made stars explode behind her eyes. He returned to her again and again, each time harder and faster than the time before until he was burying himself in her with every stroke, coming to the end of her walls, touching her in places no one had ever touched her before. Brennan couldn’t hold back anymore and a low keening wail erupted from her throat, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her blunt nails carving ribbons of skin from them as she clung to Booth while he went wild between her legs.

Growling his approval, Booth nipped at her jaw, nibbled the fragrant flesh behind her ear as he spoke in a husky whisper, “Look at me Temperance, I need you to look at me when you cum.”

Her head lolled to the side, their eyes locked gazes again and she moaned his name in a breathy whisper, “Seeley, baby, I…I’m gonna…I’m gonna...Boooooth!”

Booth watched as the woman in front of him came apart in his arms. Her body trembled and quivered, her hands had a death grip on his shoulders, her legs locked around him, squeezing him reflexively. The heat of her arousal burned him, Brennan’s walls clamped down on him like a velvet vice, and she flooded around him calling his name. Booth couldn’t hold back any longer as he watched her shatter, and he found his release deep inside her as he slid home one last time while calling out to her, “Booooones!”

They stood there for several minutes, exhausted, leaning heavily against the door to his apartment. Slowly Brennan unhooked her legs and as Booth’s strength gave out the two collapsed slowly, sliding down the door until they were a heap on the floor. Booth tightened his arms around her, grunting as he pulled her roughly into his lap. Brennan’s head fell forward, landing in the crook of his neck, her lips placing lazy kisses across his shoulder, her tongue laving the tender spot she’d so ravaged earlier. Booth pressed sweet kisses into the damp hair on the side of her head until his lips again found her ear.

“Welcome back baby.” Booth smiled against her cheek as Brennan’s low, throaty chuckle answered him.

“If this is how you welcome me back, I’m going to leave more often.”

“Tell you what; if you stay I’ll make sure the next time will be even better.”

Brennan’s heart fluttered at the smile that graced Booth’s lips, but in between the flurry of kisses he dropped on her cheeks, eyelids, nose, mouth, and forehead, she had one burning question that needed to be asked.

“Seeley, what could possibly be better than what we just did?”

Booth’s smile turned mischievous as he pushed Brennan off of his lap and climbed unsteadily to his feet. He offered her his hand, and chuckled at the aggrieved manner in which she accepted it.

“C’mon Bones! Don’t be a sour puss.” He chided, pulling her up into a wobbly embrace. “If we hurry we can catch the spin cycle!”

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RM

Haha! This was a load of laughs - ha, you get it?! And now that they're off to the spin cycle! all I can say is "I hooooooooppppppppe theeeeeeyyyyy haaaaaaavvvvve aaaaaaa gooooooooddddddd tiiiiiiiimmmmmmmme."

such a great story, I can just see how Tempe's face looked when she opened the door.

Ok, that was fucking hot! Not evil, just HOT! Fabulous fun!