a/n: A winter hiatus kink meme fill for this prompt ( 25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lqri5hM94S1qkex14o1_500 dot jpg ) that accidentally grew some feelings, my b.
She can't believe this is happening.
As if it's not bad enough that Will has re-entered her life and workplace, she has Richard Castle around to witness the whole comedic tragedy all the while assuming the role of compassionate caveman.
And even though she would sooner cut her tongue out than tell anyone, she kind of likes that last part.
She's at her wits' end right now though, one man throwing out ridiculous theories about Angela Candela's kidnapper by the murder board and the other rolling his eyes as he leans on her desk. She's rubbing her temple, trying to think of an excuse to quit her job when Will pushes himself upright.
"Coffee?" He inches in the direction of the break room. "I'll make you a cup."
She murmurs her thanks, just grateful to have the two men in separate rooms, doesn't think twice about it until she turns to Castle and sees the hurt on his face.
"Oh, no," she says, the beginning of an attempt at an excuse; he shakes his head, cutting her off.
"Maybe I'll take your earlier suggestion and get outta here." He raises two palms in a gesture of surrender. "I have writing to do anyway."
She doesn't know what this thing between them is, knows she has no right to be angry that he's hurt but that doesn't stop the sudden rising pressure in her chest at the thought of doing this without him and she pushes her chair back to stand, heart pounding against her ribcage as she watches his back retreat.
"Castle." His name rings out through the bullpen, her voice louder than necessary and she flinches at the sound.
"Kate?" He turns around, immediately concerned eyes focused on her as he starts back toward her desk. "Are you okay?"
Will comes out of the break room just as Castle reaches her desk and she looks from one to the other in a panic, eyes focusing on the second coffee in Will's hand but she reaches out to Castle instead, slim fingers sliding between his belt and jeans, closing around the leather strap. Her gaze shifts up to meet Will's before turning in the direction of the interrogation room, wordlessly instructing Castle to follow with a sharp tug around his middle and she hears him yelp but can feel his presence on her heels, all but tripping over her as he trails closely behind.
She opens the door to the box, not bothering to turn the light on and Castle's apprehensive eyes are the last thing she sees before grabbing his jacket and whirling him into the room after her, shoving him up against the nearest wall as she kicks the door shut. He stammers out her name before she shuts him up with her mouth, hands fisting in his hair as her tongue strokes hotly against his. He gives in for a moment, soft moan escaping his lips when she scratches her fingernails against his scalp but then he's pulling back, eyes searching hers for a question she probably doesn't have the answer to.
"Is this about Will?"
The half of her that isn't annoyed and so completely turned on is reveling in the fact that he's already a little out of breath, his eyes a dark facsimile to the room around them. She shakes her head, ready for the conversation to be over, pressing a wet kiss to his jawline.
"Why does it matter?" She trails her lips up to his ear, tongue flicking out against his lobe and he whines.
"Beck-ett," he starts, and she smiles at his fretful tone, taking a moment to be pleased with her successful method of distraction before she gently takes the delicate flesh between her teeth, teasing him.
"Cas-tle," she mimics, soft and high-pitched and that seems to completely undo his self-control as he roughly grabs for her waist and spins them, her back colliding with the wall as he inserts one of his legs between her own. She groans as she sinks down onto his thigh, head lolling forward, the pressure creating a simultaneous relief and hunger all in one. The desire for more rushes over her and she can't help the roll of her hips, hands fisting in his lapels as she creates a steady rhythm against him.
He's kissing her again, nipping at her bottom lip and not bothering to soothe it with his tongue, lips seeking and insistent as they slant over hers. She hears the needy little sounds echoing in the empty room before she realizes they're coming from her own mouth, her focus completely narrowed into the frenetic energy of her hips as she works herself into him over and over. He moves even closer, the slide of his leg sending delicious sparks of pleasure zipping through her veins and she grinds into his thigh one last time before her spine bows, splitting in two as she arches away from the wall and sinks her teeth into his collarbone through his shirt.
His hand is rubbing at her back, holding her to him, and her face turns red even as she breathes roughly into the fabric of his shirt. She keeps her head buried for the remark she's sure is about to be released - something involving his ego and the fact that all of their clothes are still on - but his palm just continues its soothing pattern, massaging until her muscles relax.
"Better?" He whispers, and the pinpricks behind her eyes are certainly not tears but just an aftereffect of the most satisfying orgasm she's had in a long time and who is she kidding, neither option helps her pride much at this point. She knows that they're going to have to talk about the unidentified "it" this time, that they've had the last moment they can simply brush off and she sighs, pulling back just enough to speak.
"Come over tonight."
She can hear him open his mouth, breath catching and for a moment she thinks he's going to turn her down until she feels a rush of air against her face, his lips touching her temple. "Okay."
There's a beat of silence, his hand now pressed warmly to her lower back before he opens his mouth again.
"How are you gonna explain this to Sorenson?"
She laughs and then claps a hand over her mouth, pulling back to look him in the eye and is relieved to the see the familiar twinkle there, half-smile pulling up one corner of his lips and she shrugs.
"You needed a talking-to about how to act in a police precinct."
"Does that mean it's my turn to give the talking-to later?"
"Sure, Mr. Bestseller." She narrows her eyes, knows that the grin breaking across her face is completely negating her tone but she can't help it. "We'll see if you'll be able to do any talking at all."