A Cupping
Coffee cupping, or coffee tasting, is the practice of observing the tastes and aromas of brewed coffee.
Kate Beckett is wearing perfume.
He never expected it of her. Obviously, he is very much aware that Beckett is a woman, and most women at least own some sort of fragrance, but he never expected her to actually wear it. The day to day of the precinct, the chasing after suspects and the long hours in the airless bullpen, means that she usually doesn't bother. Or so he assumes, anyway; he's never actually spoken with her about it.
When she stepped up close to him and slid her arm through his and twirled her hair - yes, he saw that - the spicy wave of her perfume rolled over him and he had almost choked on his next breath as he tried desperately to catch more of whatever scent it is she's chosen. Even the fact that she must have been thinking of the firefighter when she picked it out doesn't deter his enthusiasm for this particular layer of the Beckett onion.
He tries to play it cool when they make it to the elevator and she lets go of his arm, takes a step away from him. "You smell great." Beckett whips around to look at him and he winces, feels himself blushing spectacularly. Yeah. . .playing it cool has never really worked when it comes to her. "Uh, sorry."
And then she laughs, looks a little surprised at herself to be doing it and dips her head, but all of the tender amusement is there. "Thanks." His stomach roars its dissatisfaction and then she's laughing harder, lifting an eyebrow at him. "Wow Castle, you really are starving."
"Yeah." He groans just as the doors open onto the lobby of the building. Rick strides out of the elevator car and turns back to look at her, holding his arm out again just to see what will happen. "So hurry up, Beckett."
Her arm slides through his again, her body close enough that he can feel the heat of her thigh, and the whole of his insides explode in a shower of giddiness.
Rick won't lie to himself anymore. The reason he cared so much about her date was that the thought of Kate with another man set him alight with jealousy. Reading in the paper that he's romantically involved with Beckett, even though he knew it wasn't true, made his heart batter against his ribs, his palms clammy. It isn't about sex anymore, isn't about having her as a conquest.
He wants the romance too.
A whistle startles him, and before he manages to get it together Beckett is dragging him towards the cab she hailed and opening the door, shoving him inside ahead of her. He falls into his seat and grumbles at her, lifts up to free his coat where it's gotten trapped underneath him. He's still got her dress folded over his arm and he feels oddly protective over it.
Mostly because he couldn't help the unhinging of his jaw and the shock of his breath when he saw her in it. Each and every time he sees Detective Beckett dressed up it knocks him for six, and he doesn't know what he'll do when he finally gets to see her dressed up for him.
Yes. It's a when, now. He didn't miss the flare of something he's sure was desire when she read that they are supposedly romantically involved, saw her snide remarks about bachelorette number three for what they were. A mask to cover the ugly bloom of her jealousy. It's adorable, really, and entirely unfounded. He didn't listen to a single word the woman said, and he's already forgotten her name.
Beckett leans forward to give the driver the address of the restaurant, and when she settles back in her seat he realises that she's chosen to sit next to him, in the middle of the bench seat. It makes him brave, and probably a little foolish too.
"Remy's is a far better date than Drago."
She goes still, freezes in the middle of arranging herself comfortably next to him, and immediately he wishes he could take it back. But then he watches as Kate steels herself, nudges away the panic he knows must be clawing at her. She freaks out on him whenever he gets serious, and it's the single biggest reason he continues to joke away his feelings for her.
"This is. . .a date?"
"I think so." He says carefully, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants so he doesn't do anything else stupid, like touch her. "We're going out to dinner, just the two of us. We're both single. And you. . .look beautiful."
Warmth blooms in her cheeks, staining them a delicate pink, and she bites her bottom lip. He gives her the space of his silence to figure out where they go from here, now that he's handed his heart over to her. What it said in the newspaper about him not being available next year. . .he wants so badly for that to be true.
"If I'd known this was a date, I'd have kept my dress on."
"This is just as good." It's not strictly true, not exactly. He does so love that dress. But that's mostly because of the novelty. The Beckett he fell for is the one in a sweater and slacks, the one who somehow manages to be both conservative and devastatingly sexy.
The cab pulls up outside Remy's and Castle falls over himself to both pay the driver and exit the car faster than Beckett does. He fails, comes around to see her standing on the sidewalk with her arms folded, waiting for him. He pouts at her and earns himself a snort and a roll of her eyes. "What? You wanted to get the door for me?"
"Well, yeah, it is our first date and all."
"It'll be our last date if you don't stop being so ridiculous." Even as he whines and hurries after her towards the door of the restaurant, his heart cries out with delight. Because Beckett might not realise it, but she just admitted that a second date is on the cards for them.
Once they make it inside, the woman behind the counter throws her hands in the air and comes around to greet them, pulling first Beckett and then Rick into an embrace. "Ricky, Kate! I was wondering when you two would finally come in here together."
"You know Lynette?" They say in unison, and the woman in question laughs. Her blonde hair is pulled back immaculately as always, her cheeks flushed, and she takes the garment bag from Castle and chuckles loud enough that it reverbs off of the chrome backsplash behind the counter.
"You know, Ricky here has been a regular for years, and as soon as he told me about the smart, gorgeous detective he was shadowing I knew it had to be you. And then the next week, you were in here telling me about the pain in the ass writer who was following you and I got my confirmation."
Kate turns to him with a raised brow and it reminds him so sharply, so viscerally of their night at the charity ball with the mayor that he can almost feel the burn of the vodka at the back of his throat. "Have you told everyone in the city about me?"
"Only the people I care about." He shrugs, grinning at her.
"Listen, you two. I just got a new coffee machine yesterday. Do you wanna try it?" Lynette says to them, disappearing a moment to hang up the garment bag before she comes back. The machine on the counter looks significantly more high tech than the one Castle is used to seeing and he rubs his hands together, heads for one of the stools before he's stopped by a palm to his chest. "No no, you two go get settled in a booth and I'll bring it right over."
They head for a booth in the corner and shed their coats, piling them up on Castle's bench seat. It's strange, being in such a familiar place and such unfamiliar territory all at once, and for a moment he just watches her from across the table. He wasn't exaggerating before, she really is beautiful, and his eyes keep getting caught on the curl of her hair from where she's been twirling it. It makes his chest puff up with pride, even if he hasn't ever rescued a puppy from a fire.
"Know what you want?" He says and she startles, gaze flying up to his face. Well, his lips. And hers are parting, her pupils a little more dilated than he's seen before and. . .oh, Kate Beckett. She was definitely not thinking about anything even vaguely appropriate for this very public setting.
Her tongue darts out to brush her bottom lip and he swallows hard, gripping the edge of the formica tabletop. It blanches his knuckles, but Kate's eyes don't stray from his face for long enough to notice. "Yes."
Oh god. She's going to kill him.
Lynette reappears before he actually has a cardiac arrest here in the booth, sets down a cup of coffee in front of each of them. He lifts the mug and sniffs deeply from it, before he slurps at the coffee to allow it to spread around his mouth. Both Lynette and Beckett are staring at him, mouths open, and he hastens to swallow his mouthful and explain.
"I've done some coffee tasting before. I know what I'm doing."
"It's just diner brew, Ricky." Lynette snorts at him, wiping her hands off on her apron before she pulls a notepad from the pocket and untangles a pen where it's trapped behind her ear, ensnared in a tangle of hair. "You guys know what you're having?"
They give her their orders, but he doesn't miss the heat of Beckett's eyes on him, even from over the rim of her own coffee cup.
The food is great, of course. It always is here, and it's one of the reasons that Kate often stops by on her way home from work or during whatever time she manages to scrape together to grab some lunch. She tries to time it right so that she'll catch Lynette while she's on shift, and the women is so bubbly that it's no surprise at all that she's also befriended Castle.
She had no idea that her partner has ever been here before. It's not particularly close to his apartment or really anywhere else he frequents except the precinct. He told her that he stumbled upon this place after he was arrested for the police horse incident, met Lynette and realised the food was amazing and has been coming back ever since.
And yes, the story of his stealing the police horse had her thinking about him naked, and then she couldn't stop thinking about it and he could totally tell and she is so done for. The fireman was nice enough, was cute, but when he asked her if she'd have sex with him later there hadn't even been a blip of want. Not for him, anyway.
The last of the day's warmth has rolled over into a bitter chill when they make it outside, their breath clouding in front of them, and Kate shivers. From the corner of her eye she watches Castle debate with himself and then he sets his jaw and before she knows what's happening, his arms are around her.
It's not at all unpleasant. His biceps are massive, and warm, and she sighs against the skin of his neck. "Thank you for suggesting Remy's."
"Thanks for agreeing." He says into the top of her head, and the wash of his breath over her scalp makes her shiver again, flames licking low down in her belly.
"I had a really great time tonight."
He lets her step out of his embrace, hands pushed deep into his pockets, and she's seen that enough times to know it for what it is. Him trying to avoid touching her. "Yeah. A whole lot better than our dates this evening."
"It doesn't have to be over yet, Castle. You could. . .come back to my place."
She's suddenly nervous, can't bear to look at him, and so there's no warning at all before his palm is cupping the side of her face, his fingers sliding into her hair and disrupting her haphazard up do. "There's nothing more I want than to come home with you. I'm just not sure it's a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Earlier this evening, we were both on dates with someone else. Don't you think it's a little soon?"
It's presumptuous of him, and she wants to ask too soon for what before she realises that her mind has been in the gutter all evening and he definitely knows it. And really, who is she trying to kid? They both know exactly what will happen if he comes home with her.
She wants it. Badly. "Castle, do you know why I agreed to go to dinner with you? Why I accepted that this was a date?"
"Um. . .no?"
"Because I hated seeing you with that woman. After what happened with Kyra, and then this. . .I realised I don't want to watch you date somebody else."
It's the most honest she's ever been with him, and it seems to hit him in the solar plexus. He rocks as if he's going to take a step backward, but the momentum carries him forwards instead and his other hand comes up to frame her face, his body suddenly so very close.
"I won't. I won't. Just you."
And then his lips meet hers and her entire world narrows down to fit between the corners of his mouth. He's tentative with her, soft, but she doesn't want that. Kate arches up into him and slicks her tongue along his bottom lip until his mouth opens. Her teeth drag, her tongue a hot swirl in his mouth and his hips rock hard into hers.
When he breaks away it's on a gasp and he stares down at her, his hair disheveled from where she raked her fingers through it and clung on. "Wow. Beckett. That- wow."
"Yeah." She grins, leaning in to press a careful kiss to the corner of his mouth. It sends a shiver rattling through him and she slides her arms around his waist, underneath his jacket, and leans back to look at him. "So, you coming?"
"Yes." He grunts, his jaw still slack with what she's done to him. The power of it, how desperately he wants her, surges through her system and she lets him go, sticks a hand out to signal to a passing cab.
They climb in, practically on top of each other, and as soon as Kate has rattled off her address to the driver she hooks a leg over her partner's thigh and goes for his mouth again.
He knew she was jealous, but he had no idea just how carnal it was. How fiercely Beckett wants him for her own. They make it inside her apartment and she has him up against the door before he manages to get a good look at the place. She's straddling his thigh, hips rocking, and even through the fabric of her slacks he can feel her.
Her mouth on his is narcotic, but he doesn't want it like this. Not like this. Rick breaks away from her mouth and presses his forehead to hers, gentling her with the stroke of his fingers up and down her spine. "Kate. Slow down. We've got time. Let's do this right."
"I want this, Castle." She growls, arching open-mouthed towards him, but he leans backward into the door, doesn't let her kiss him.
"So do I." He rocks his hips into hers, lets her feel just how true it is. "But I want slow, Beckett."
She reaches a hand down between them and cups him in her palm, fingers squeezing gently. He lets out something close to a sob, a shuddering breath, and his eyes slam closed. It's so good already, because it's her and there was never a chance it wouldn't be.
Fingers working over him, she nips at the scruff peppering his jaw and he fists both hands, presses them back against the surface behind him. "Are you sure you don't want me up against the door?"
"Oh god, Beckett." He groans, closing his eyes against the assault of her mouth at his neck. But even though she's here and alive and electric, he can't stop thinking about last week. About her hunched like an old beggar over a dying man, sobbing and covered in blood.
That woman, the one who lost her only lead to save his life, is the one he wants now. Rick cups her face in his hands and kisses her, closed mouth. Slow and delicious, and he ignores her every attempt to speed things up, take it further.
It's been ten months that he's known her, and every single day he has wanted to kiss her. Granted, those first couple of months he wasn't interest in very much more than that, but now. . . "We've got all night."
"Take me to bed." She hums, leaning in to suck on his bottom lip. He groans low down in his throat, carnal fire hollowing him out, and he palms her ass and hoists. A jump from her, and then the wrap of those legs around his waist and suddenly she's just exactly where he needs her.
Rick takes a hesitant step, another, and once he's sure he can carry her like this without making a fool of himself he strides for the bedroom. Her blinds are drawn, but slatted open so that her bed is painted with strips of city light. Settling to sit on the edge of the bed, Rick tugs her down flush into his lap and she breathes heavily against his cheek, her hips rolling against his erection.
Now that they're at least somewhat secure and he no longer has to worry about his knees giving out on him, he wastes no time in sliding his hands underneath her sweater. Her skin is smooth and cold from the night air, rippling under his touch, and she bites his earlobe when he cups her breasts in his palms.
Her chest heaves against his touch and she kisses him again, all spitfire and tongue, before one hand leaves his hair to reach behind herself and unclasp her bra. Immediately, he nudges his way underneath the lace and palms her, feels her heavy with want.
The whimper she lets out is amazing, so much more than he ever knew to hope from her, and suddenly he just needs to see. Rick tugs her sweater and her bra off over her head in one go, exposing her to the kiss of orange streetlight that paints her skin with feline stripes. She's stunning, and he gives her a moment to see it all over his face before he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth.
She arches into him, fistfuls of his hair in both of her hands again and he drags his teeth against her until she growls at him and her hips sink down even harder. Rick circles with his tongue, traps her nipple against the roof of his mouth and she cries out, nails clawing at his scalp. When he switches over to give her other breast the same attention she slides her hands between them and starts on the buttons of his shirt, surprisingly dextrous considering the string of guttural noises spilling out of her.
Beckett separates the two halves of the fabric and pushes the shirt off his shoulders, growling her frustration when she encounters his undershirt. She fists her hands in the hem and tugs upwards, gets as far as his chin but he refuses to detach his mouth from her skin, can't bear to go even a moment without the taste of her.
"Castle." She moans, and he lets her tug the shirt over his head. Once it's off, Beckett leans in to him and presses her naked chest against his. The kiss of their bare skins makes his eyes slam closed and he leans back until he's laying in her bed, draws her down to sprawl on top of him.
Her mouth finds his again and he slicks his tongue past the barrier of her lips. It's so good like this with her hips rolling in the cradle of his hands, but he needs more. Castle rolls them over until she's underneath him and he can thrust down into her, the rough fabric of his jeans scraping against her slacks.
She reaches for him again, cupping him in her palm and he gasps, sinks his teeth into the curve where her neck meets her shoulder. Kate flicks open the button of his pants and tugs down his zipper, slender fingers sliding into the thin space between the fabric and his body. She reaches through the slit of his boxers to brush over his bare skin and he jolts hard, licks a hot stripe up towards her ear.
Her touch is teasing and light, dancing over him, and he backs away until there's enough space for him to tug her slacks and her underwear off and toss them onto the floor behind him. Rick struggles out of his own clothes, tugging off his socks and then hers as well. Now that they're naked, everything suddenly seems alarmingly real.
From the pillows where she's shifted backward, Kate gives him a coy little smirk and reaches into the nightstand drawer, passes him a condom. He rolls it on and crawls up the bed to settle between her thighs, before it suddenly hits him that he hasn't touched her yet.
Castle reaches down between them and strokes two fingers through the slick heat of her, his head dropping to her clavicle when he feels how soaked she is for him. He pushes inside of her and she arches off the mattress, crying out and clawing at the flesh of his shoulders. His fingers curl and his thumb circles her clit and she moans, long and loud. It's incredible, watching her come undone like this, and he picks up the pace a little bit, reading the clues of her body. He hits a spot inside of her that makes her whole body jerk and he grins, strokes his fingers over it again and again until she's moaning and panting and her whole body shivers with pleasure.
Another hard circle of his thumb and she's coming apart around his hand, eyes screwed shut and her mouth open in mute pleasure. He keeps moving for her as he watches, doesn't let up until she reaches down and grabs for his wrist, tugs him away.
"That was so hot." He grins, pressing a bruising kiss to the thoroughly smudged line of her mouth.
Kate reaches down and curls her fingers around him, tugs gently until he settles in the cradle of her hips once more. "You haven't seen anything yet, Castle."
When he slides into her, as slowly as he can possibly bear to, it feels as if he's about to explode right out of his skin. She's so tight and hot around him, so good, and the litany of curses and moans that she breathes into his ear are not helping him to keep it together.
He starts off slow, savouring the glide, but Beckett is as impatient as ever and when she bites him he thrusts hard and she cries out, gasping. "Yes, Castle. Like that. Harder."
Her bossiness is so familiar that he might laugh, if not for the fact that every muscle in his body is tensed in concentration. He wants one more orgasm for her before he gets his own release, but it might kill him to get there.
The very last thread of his control snaps and he thrusts over and over again, her body liquid underneath him. Kate kisses him again, a sloppy sharing of breath, and then he twists his hips and her eyes roll back. "Oh my god, Castle. That feels so good. Don't stop."
She's so much louder than he ever would have imagined, and he really, really likes it. He sucks at the thread of her pulse, teeth scraping, and he hopes that it leaves a mark. He doesn't think it will happen, but he doesn't want her to be able to deny this tomorrow.
"I won't stop, Kate. Are you close?"
"Uh-huh." She moans, reaching down between them to circle her clit. The feel of her fingertips brushing over where they're joined sends a shiver racing through him and he kisses her again. He feels it when she starts to unravel, her whole body tensing up underneath him and then the bow of her spine snaps and she she jerks against him over and over again, her teeth leaving a purple mark at his shoulder.
He thrusts once more, twice, and then his own release barrels into him in a white hot starburst of bliss. His hips take a long time to still, and when they do he manages to collapse only half on top of her. She's still trapped underneath the weight of him, but she doesn't seem to mind.
The fingers of one hand sift through his hair while the other traces meaningless patterns onto the skin of his shoulder blade. Her mouth comes to his temple in a soft bloom of a kiss, and it's so tender that he almost wants to weep.
"Best first date ever." He says once he's sure that his voice won't betray him, and she laughs. She's gorgeous like this, sweaty and lazy and half-asleep in the bed next to him, and he knows.
This can't be enough for him. Impossible.
"Do you have to go?"
"No." He says immediately, even though he told his daughter he'd be home. Never had any intention of spending the night with bachelorette number three, and of course he had no idea that this would happen. But it doesn't matter; he'll text Alexis. "I'll stay, Kate."
She stretches, and then she hooks her toes in the sheets and pulls them up to cover their bodies, hers curling into him. Catlike and warm and he wriggles to get comfortable, draws an arm around her waist to keep her close to him.
"I'll stay."
A/N: Happy birthday, Berkie. You are a beautiful tropical fish and a poetic noble land mermaid all rolled into one. I am grateful every day for your friendship and I love you so incredibly much!