And I get a prompt to shut me up.
For tabaqui who said "Booth. Neon."
Blue Light Special
Seeley was entranced by the shadows that played over the body in front of him. Over muscle and joints. Over imperfections and dimples. His breath followed his fingers and tiny hairs rose, goose bumps lifted in appreciation. He studied shoulder blades to hips.
Scars and unblemished, untanned, unseen.
The curve where ass meet thigh. The sweet soft between. Baby fine curls against worn calluses.
“Touch me. Please.”
Low voice. Whispered words.
Seeley kept studying.
Shadow of a hard cock pressed into cotton sheets. Balls drawn up against groin. Spread thighs. Braced knees. Fingers dug into white that was gray in the dark.
Seeley's tongue moved from the heat at the bend of a knee to the mystery between two perfect half-moons. The body beneath shifted like a wave. Shoulders lifting, spine bowing, hips ... ass ... opening.
Twist under blue light.
The same light reflected in the eyes that tracked Booth's every touch. Every kiss.
The same light coated the hand that covered his. That moved, mirrored. Fingers curled around Seeley's cock.
“Touch me ... touch me ...”
Skin under nails, kisses left damp depressions in sweat.
Neon lit the motel room.
Blue shadows on black.
Dean behind Seeley over Sam.
“Touch me ... please ...”
Okay. I'm a little less bored.