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slashthedrabble Jan. 12th, 2007 11:41 pm)
lostakasha.livejournal.com posting in slashthedrabble Jan. 12th, 2007 11:41 pm)Author; Lostakasha
Fandom; Bones
Pairing: Booth/Hodgins
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer; They own me, not the other way around.
Steel-gray dawn is an east coast thing, Jack thinks, fumbling for his house keys with chilled fingers. Heavy fog obscures the gardens behind him; the product of leaden mist darkens the gravel beneath his boots.
He wants thunder and lightning and downpours, floods to wash him away before he can remember how to swim, but all the early day will give him is a thick spatter of dampness. Enough to chill. Enough to make him ache. Not enough to drown him.
Booth limps in weather like this, but he never looks like he’s struggling.
Hodgins drops his keys, and curses.
The shaking should have stopped, but it hasn’t. It faded in the background for awhile, settled into white noise beneath the hum of the engine and the draw of wiper blades on slick safety glass as he drove. His hands are just as unreliable now as they were at day’s first hour, when they traveled every inch of Booth’s body, memorizing him, knowing then it would be for the last time.
He lied, and Booth joked about heating him up. It’s the early spring nights, he’d said, and buried his face in Booth’s shoulder so he couldn’t see the truth.
Fandom; Bones
Pairing: Booth/Hodgins
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer; They own me, not the other way around.
Steel-gray dawn is an east coast thing, Jack thinks, fumbling for his house keys with chilled fingers. Heavy fog obscures the gardens behind him; the product of leaden mist darkens the gravel beneath his boots.
He wants thunder and lightning and downpours, floods to wash him away before he can remember how to swim, but all the early day will give him is a thick spatter of dampness. Enough to chill. Enough to make him ache. Not enough to drown him.
Booth limps in weather like this, but he never looks like he’s struggling.
Hodgins drops his keys, and curses.
The shaking should have stopped, but it hasn’t. It faded in the background for awhile, settled into white noise beneath the hum of the engine and the draw of wiper blades on slick safety glass as he drove. His hands are just as unreliable now as they were at day’s first hour, when they traveled every inch of Booth’s body, memorizing him, knowing then it would be for the last time.
He lied, and Booth joked about heating him up. It’s the early spring nights, he’d said, and buried his face in Booth’s shoulder so he couldn’t see the truth.
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Yayayay!!!
This is wonderful! and so very hot.
**dances with you**
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Thank you so much!
*smooch*
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*Sniffles*
*Huggles you tightly*