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Angela feels a bit like a teenager. Seven years of marriage and she’s been making out with her husband for an hour. Not that she’s complaining. No, this is basically a miracle considering Hodgins wouldn’t even let her touch his shoulder a few weeks ago. The fact that they’ve finally graduated from hand-holding and little pecks to this feels like a major step forward.
It's been a long week. Cases with kids are always tough, and this week's victim was the same age as their own son. Needless to say, Angela's been a bit clingy with Michael Vincent this week. But the case is over, they caught the bad guy, and Hodgins suggested that it might be nice to let Michael Vincent sleep over with Christine, have some fun. As reluctant as she was to let her son out of her sight, Hodgins wants them to spend time alone together, and after the last few months, Angela certainly wasn't going to turn that down.
Hodgins’ paralysis has been difficult on their relationship to say the least. The physical aspect has been the most strained, and Angela's struggling with it. Their relationship has never been perfect, but physicality has never been a problem for them. But even after the emotional side of their relationship started getting better, Hodgins has still been avoiding physical intimacy like the plague. She knows he needs time to adjust to his body, but all this kissing isn't making her any less frustrated.
Hodgins suddenly pulls back a little, his brow furrowed.
“Are you ok?” Angela asks, trying not to sound too worried. She’s pretty sure she’s utterly unsuccessful in that venture.
“Yeah, I just…” Hodgins laughs nervously, probably an attempt to calm Angela down. “I want to try something, will you come with me for a minute?”
“Sure, yeah,” Angela nods. Hodgins pulls over his chair and shifts himself over to it. Angela can’t help but notice a certain reaction going on in his jeans. Selfishly, she's actually relieved to see physical evidence that he's still attracted to her. Logically, she knows that their lack of intimacy has nothing to do with her, but she's never been a logical person. Hodgins leads her to the next room, his shoulders tense with anxiety.
“You wanted to show me the kitchen?”
“No, uh,” Hodgins smiles. “Just trust me on this, ok?”
“Ok,” Angela gives him a bemused smile.
Hodgins gestures at the kitchen counter, “Will you sit up there for me?”
Angela laughs, “You…want me to sit on the counter?”
“Please?” Hodgins presses her lightly.
“Ok,” Angela agrees hesitantly, hopping up onto the counter. Hodgins rolls up in front of her and places his hands on her knees. Angela chuckles, confused, “What are you—?” Hodgins slides his hands up her thighs and starts fiddling with the hem of her skirt. “Oh,” Angela breathes, caught off guard by this sudden and unexpected turn of events.
“Can I?” Hodgins asks, a tremor of insecurity in his voice.
“Jack, I—” Angela can tell her cheeks are burning. She shakes her head, unsure how to communicate how badly she wants this without pressuring him. “You don’t have to…”
“Angela, look at me,” Hodgins stops her, staring intensely into her eyes. “I want this. I want to do this for you.”
Angela studies her husband’s face. He’s anxious, yes, but because he wants her approval. Underneath all the anxiety and insecurity is desire. Angela nods, “Ok, yeah.”
Hodgins takes Angela's hips, gently pulling her to the edge of the counter. Angela doesn't resist, letting her husband lead. Angela is usually far from submissive in her sex life, much more often the instigator, but things have changed. As much as Angela is relieved that Hodgins is acting more like himself again, their relationship still feels unstable. Hodgins is dealing with a lot, learning how to navigate the world and his body in a new way, and the first few months were miserable. But they’re finally making progress, and Angela is determined to keep it that way.
Jack’s atoning, in his own way, and while Angela is just happy he’s smiling at her again, she understands why he feels he needs to do this. At least she’s enjoying the physical intimacy a lot more than the gifts. It feels like she’s getting her marriage back, piece by piece. Hodgins slips his hands under her skirt, drawing Angela back into her body.
“Still ok?” he asks. Angela is not someone who shies away from verbal consent. She usually finds it hot, actually. Still, her heart pangs for how they used to be able to read each other’s bodies, when they could communicate clearly without saying a word. They’ll get back there, one day, but today is not that day.
“Of course,” Angela reassures him.
Hodgins smiles and hooks his fingers into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down. Angela raises her hips to accommodate him, letting Jack slip them off. They fall to the floor and Angela’s stomach flips. It’s been a long time since they’ve been in this situation and it all suddenly hits Angela. She finds herself flooded with anxiety and vulnerability. Angela takes a deep breath, reminding herself that Hodgins is her husband. He is the man she loves, and she knows he loves her. He isn’t going to do anything to hurt her. Besides, this isn’t the first time he’s done this, not by a long shot.
“Angela? Are you ok?” His voice is riddled with concern, “I can stop.”
Angela shakes her head as if it will literally shake away her thoughts. She sighs softly, “No, no, I’m sorry. I was just thinking…it doesn’t matter. Keep going.”
“Ok,” Jack says tentatively. “If you’re sure.”
“I am,” Angela asserts, determined to put his mind, and hers, at ease.
Hodgins puts his hands on her knees, encouraging her to let them fall open. He slides in between them, locking his chair in place. Angela’s feet hover over his wheels. Generally speaking, Angela tries to avoid touching Hodgins’ chair when she can avoid it. As much as he acts like it’s a prison, and must feel that way sometimes, Angela knows better. His chair is also his independence and, in a way, part of him now. It’s important for Angela to get permission.
“Do you mind?”
“It’s fine,” he nods.
With Hodgins’ permission, she tentatively rests her feet on his chair, watching him closely. For a moment his hands stutter, but it doesn’t last. He takes a deep breath and resumes caressing Angela’s thighs. He begins gently kissing her inner thighs, whispering in between each kiss: I love you, you’re so beautiful, I need you, you’re everything to me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again. Angela’s heart breaks with every apology. Truthfully, she’s already forgiven him. As painful as his misdirected anger was, she can’t bring herself to hold it against him, given everything. Knowing that he’s trying to make up for it, that he recognizes the heartbreak he inflicted is enough for her.
“Jack,” Angela murmurs, both accepting his apologies and admonishing him for them in one breath. She cups his face in her hand, stroking the worry lines etched into his face. He kisses the palm of her hand with reverence. If there’s one thing she’s learned recently, it’s that knowing you’re loved and feeling loved are two different things. Today she feels loved.
Jack ducks his head again. His beard tickles and Angela squirms a little. Hodgins chuckles softly, but doesn't pull away. Angela can't suppress a smile as she feels Jack regaining his confidence. Her hands wander to his hair, playing with his curls and caressing the nape of his neck. Angela gasps as his kisses morph into gentle suction.
"Sweetie, you're gonna leave a mark,” Angela says breathily.
"Uh-huh," Jack murmurs, focusing his attention on a new spot on her inner thigh.
It’s confusing, this feels familiar but not. It’s like something they would have done when they first started fucking, back when everything was new, and exciting, and scary. Like when they would do it in the storage closet at work and Hodgins would give her hickeys where he knew her clothes would cover. Something about the rush of getting it past Cam. Still, it feels nice, so like everything today, Angela shuts out the questions and surrenders to the feeling.
Jack’s hands cease their movement as he holds Angela’s thighs open firmly. Angela’s clit throbs as she realizes what this change in demeanor means. Sure enough, Jack finally, finally, buries his head between her legs. He starts out slowly, cautiously even. Jack swirls his tongue around her clit, providing just a hint of stimulation.
"Oh," Angela gasps softly as Jack's movements gain more confidence. He keeps his speed consistent, but it's like a switch has been flipped. Suddenly, this doesn't feel like the first time with a new person. This is her husband, and he knows exactly how her body works. He picks up his speed, and Angela starts to feel warmth building from her toes. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while or maybe it’s all the foreplay, but Angela’s getting the feeling that this isn’t going to last nearly as long as she’d like it to.
Without breaking his rhythm, Jack effortlessly picks up her legs, and puts them over his shoulders. He's always been strong, but with all the physical therapy, his upper body strength is now reaching Booth levels. It is so fucking sexy. Angela leans back on her forearms, happily letting her husband change the angle. She wraps her legs around his neck, digging her heels into his back.
“Oh, God, Jack,” Angela moans loudly, relishing the freedom of not having a six-year-old in the house.
She’s so close, right on the edge of her orgasm. She wants to let go, surrender to the feeling, but she also wants to cling to this. Her and Jack, the two of them, forever. But then Jack puts his lips around her clit and sucks, crooking his fingers with the practiced grace of a man who knows exactly what to do to make her come. The perfect amount of pressure on her clit combined with the fingers stroking her g-spot makes resisting her orgasm completely futile. So she doesn’t. Angela closes her eyes and lets herself get lost in the waves of pleasure.
And it’s the most intense orgasm she’s had in a long time, and it’s not because the sex itself was particularly mind-blowing, but because of how charged all the emotions are tonight. All the pleasure mixes with the pain of the last few months, and it’s all just too overwhelming. Before Angela even really registers the tears streaming down her face, Jack’s pulling away, his face white as a sheet.
“Oh shit, Angie, I’m sorry. I—Maybe I took it too fast, I know it’s been a while…” Jack trails off, backing away.
“No, honey, no,” Angela shakes her head. She hops off the counter, wiping her cheeks. “They’re happy tears. I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I know, Ange. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop,” Angela cuts him off with a long kiss. Her eyes are drawn to the tent in her husband’s pants. Jack’s erection is no longer ignorable. “Um, can I return the favor?” Angela asks gently.
“I’m sorry,” Hodgins sighs. It’s clear he was hoping she wouldn’t ask. “I want to, but I’m just not ready.”
“It’s ok. I don’t need it. I don’t need any of this,” Angela assures him quickly. “I want you to do this at your own pace. I know this must be hard for you.”
“I’m fine, Angie,” Jack takes her hand. “I was such a jerk to you, I needed to show you how much I love you. How much you mean to me.”
Angela squeezes his hand in return, “Honey, I know that. You’ve been working hard, I know that you’re trying.”
Jack laughs ruefully, “Yeah, but uh, I still think I’m going to feel guilty for a while. And I should, but I don't want anything to get in between us anymore. I love you, Angela."
"I love you too," Angela murmurs. She leans down and kisses him sweetly. She is never going to take kissing him for granted again. She pulls back, cocking her head playfully, “I am wondering though, why the counter?”
Hodgins grins, “Well, uh, Michael Vincent isn't here, and I figured that the counter would give me the best angle…”
“You planned this?” Angela laughs, feeling strangely touched by the whole situation.
“A little?” Hodgins smiles sheepishly.
“I love you,” Angela whispers, unable to suppress her smile.
"I love you, Angela Montenegro."