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Perpendicular	By : KShir Category: 1 through F > Bones Views: 4045 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Bones or the characters from Bones. I also make no money from writing fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Chapter Six

The Change in Pace
It was dark, and to anyone else, cold and dry. To the two men writhing as one, however, the locked storage closet was humid and boiling hot. Naturally, the only solution was to remove more of their clothing – Agent Booth grasped the hem of Doctor Sweets’ undershirt and yanked it roughly over the younger man’s dark curls. The moment Lance’s hands were free of the cotton t-shirt, they raced back to the trembling muscles of Booth’s chest, where they scrabbled briefly; there was nothing on the bare planes of the older man to grasp onto. Instead they slipped underneath the well-muscled arms and he allowed his nails to dig into the agent’s skin as he pulled Seeley chest-to-chest with him.
“Ungh,” Booth growled as Lance’s fingernails sliced into his flesh. He swung his hips forward, slamming Lance into the metal shelving unit. Boxes of paperwork crashed down around them, but neither noticed; their mouths had clashed back together, tongues intertwining and dancing around one another’s.
There was clinking and a small zipping sound and Lance felt his slacks drop to the floor. His erection strained against the soft fabric of his boxers. Booth slipped a hand beneath the elastic waistband and grasped the pulsing member swiftly and firmly, causing Sweets to throw his head back and the breath he had not been realizing he was holding to hiss out between his teeth.
“Seeley,” he whispered between pants. Hearing his name trickle off of the younger man’s lips constricted the already impossibly tight knit in Booth’s groin. He snarled his arousal and bit down over the exposed collarbone. His free hand had snaked behind Lance and dipped to grasp at the firm muscles that made up Sweets’ ass.
“Seeley.” The first time, his name had been exultation. In this instance, it was a request for attention.
“Mm?” Booth mumbled, sucking at Lance’s earlobe and nibbling along his jawline.
“I want-“ the doctor panted, “I want you to-“ The younger man, it seemed, was struggling for the words to tell the other what exactly he was desiring.
“Oh,” murmured Seeley, understanding Lance’s breathy invitation. He slid a finger between the buttocks of the psychologist, tracing it lightly over the puckered entrance there. “Here?” Lance moaned and shuddered.
“Yes.”
Booth experimentally pressed the tip of his finger against the opening, and Sweets trembled from head to toe. The doctor’s breaths dragged painfully in and out of his chest and his heart tattooed a pattern on the inside of his chest.
“I will,” Seeley whispered in his partner’s ear. He withdrew the pressure. “But not here. Not now.” He placed a surprisingly chaste kiss on the pouted swollen lips before him, considering the raging erections the two men shared. Sweets nodded in understanding, but thrusted needily into Booth’s now motionless hand.
“Ah yes,” Booth chuckled, and the muscular agent kissed his way down to a nipple, before continuing the path to the psychologist’s navel and further down.
( - )
He had been there through it all. He had watched their first encounter from a camera in the corner of Booth’s office. He had witnessed the doctor confront the agent in the elevator, and being at first disgusted by Booth’s apparent sexual enjoyment, forced the elevator back to a start. He had waited patiently for the drunken idiot agent to leave the bar that night – but an unexpected twist: he had also had the psychologist delivered into his lap. Then, as if they were trying to make his job easy, the two men had gone and fornicated in clear view of the living room window.
For a moment, Christopher Pelant had wished that he had never shown the Jeffersonian his ability to manipulate computed graphics. The tapes he re-watched now, halfway torn between disgust at the behavior of the men and the joy at the opportunities it opened up with Dr. Brennan, would surely be signed off as some variety of computer generated imagery.
No… his intelligence was a gift. A gift he should share. It did not matter that they knew of his ability to engineer perfect images of a person where and when they did not exist. Agent Booth’s actions were not what mattered here. It was the deeper meaning behind all of this – a meaning that perhaps only two minds in the world were complex enough to comprehend.
The deeper meaning was the truth that Seeley Booth was not the perfect match for Dr. Brennan. He had, of course, known this all along; the only person that could understand and appreciate the anthropologist and all of her genius had to be another genius. And who better than him? He was a genius. He knew everything about her. He knew her thinking scowl. He knew the crease between her eyebrows that formed when she was troubled.
He considered for an instant the possibility of letting Booth know that he knew the man’s dirty secret. Perhaps Booth would run. Maybe Dr. Brennan’s vacation would be just enough time for Booth to pick up and leave the poor woman’s life altogether.
No. Allowing Booth to continue this… disgusting travesty of an affair could serve its own purpose. It gave time for Seeley Booth to make a mistake; it gave the incompetent agent time to leave evidence that he, himself, would not have to plant. It also gave Booth the chance to invest his emotions so fully in the clever psychologist that the agent might leave Brennan on his own.
Perhaps the psychologist was the best variable in this experiment. His research had proved so… useful. In fact, he knew that he could use the doctor’s research yet again here. He knew Booth was loyal – what a fatal flaw in humans. Perhaps allowing Seeley Booth to devote his heart to the young man would give him a chance to create a devastating chain of events. A missing Dr. Lance Sweets. A trap set for the burly, ignorant man. In one swift fell, he could take out Dr. Brennan’s incomplete match and also the only man who might be able to help her through her grief.
She would have nowhere else to turn but to him. To another genius.
( - )
“Let’s go out.”
It was a very simple request but it still startled Agent Booth, who reached for the remote and muted the hockey game. He placed the remote control on the coffee table and turned to look at Sweets, who was sitting forward in the arm chair, looking excited.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s go somewhere. To dinner… or a movie.” He paused. “Or and a movie.”
“Like a date.” It was not a question. Seeley could not pretend that he did not see some of the glamour in Lance’s suggestion. A public place. Food. Some drinks. Acting like normal people during a normal outing. But what was the point?
“This isn’t like that,” Booth said slowly. When Sweets didn’t respond, he spoke again. “We work in the city we live. And even if we didn’t, I’m not that guy. I’m not going to take you out for dinner and a show. I’m not going to wine and dine another man. I’m not going to hold your hand on the beach and kiss you while the sun sets. I’m not like that.” He took a breath and attempted to turn back to the game. “We’re not like that. Dates are for people getting to know each other, anyway.”
“Dates are also for people to fall in love,” Lance added quietly.
“I don’t-“ Booth started, but the words died in his throat. This had gotten far too serious far too quickly for his liking. In fact, he found that every time he spoke to Sweets or Sweets spoke to him, there was some necessitating factor driving him to define their relationship.
The fact remained that Booth didn’t have all of the information needed to define this relationship. Lance was his best friend. Lance was his biggest secret. He had said that this wasn’t a mistake, but what was “this”? Was this just sex? If so, was it going to have to end at some point? What would happen when Bones returned? Would it come down to a choice between the man that was trying to fall in love with him and the woman he loved but might never love him back?
He started when he felt the sofa shift under Lance’s weight. The doctor reached out a hand and used his fingers to gently smooth the crease on Booth’s forehead.
“You’re worried.”
“Yes.” Seeley took a deep breath. Had this finally come to a head? “She might come back.”
“She will,” Sweets said with certainty. The corner of his mouth quirked down in a frown. “You’ll have to decide.”
“So easy for you to say,” Booth asked, feeling his temper rise. “I’m the one who has to make a decision here.”
“Not here,” Lance corrected. “Not tonight.” This calmed Seeley down slightly, but he still felt his head buzzing with unanswered questions.
“Then what tonight?”
“Tonight,” Sweets said, pausing for only a moment to steel himself. “Tonight, I want you to humor me.”
“A date?”
“No,” Lance chuckled. “You made your point about that. You don’t date.” Dr. Sweets stood up from where he had been sitting and pulled his loosened tie over his head. His hands rose up and he slowly and methodically unclasped the buttons on his shirt for the second time that day before pulling the shirt clear of his slacks.
“Tonight,“ he continued, stepping out of his shoes and holding a hand out to Booth to help the older man up, “Tonight, I want you to make love to me.”
- 5
- 6
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Perpendicular