A/N: Post-ep for "Always Buy Retail." Because it's season one and they so wanted each other, even then. Especially then.
To the extraordinary KB.
Never, ever call me kitten.
"Baylor's gonna make it. You okay, Castle?"
"My first gun battle," he remembered with pride, leaning against the wall as he took another sip of champagne.
"Your last gun battle."
He turned to look at her. "Don't be so pessimistic—I think I handled myself pretty well."
"Yeah. Probably saved my life."
"Probably? I definitely saved your life. And you know what that means, don't you? It means you owe me."
"Owe you what?"
"Whatever. I. Want." Each step he took toward her was punctuated by a word. "And you know exactly what I want, don't you?"
Beckett couldn't move, frozen by the tone of his voice, the eyes shamelessly roving up and down her body, the way he was so blatantly making a pass at her and didn't seem to care at all. And it was so working for her; the tingling warmth in her belly letting her know that if she didn't keep her arms crossed, she might not be able to stop herself from tackling him right here in the hallway. All she could do was watch him and nervously bite her lip.
"You know what I really, really want you to do…"
His eyes darkened the nearer he got to her, and she couldn't help staring at his mouth, wanting to taste the champagne on his lips. And oh, he smelled delicious.
As he moved closer, though, his face passing within inches, Beckett suddenly placed a hand on his chest and brought her mouth to his ear. The hell she was going to let him mess with her head and have all the fun.
"I do," she rasped, her breath teasing his skin and ruffling his hair. "But if you really, really want it, Castle… you're going to have to come get it."
Castle stilled, his eyes blinking as rapidly as his heartbeat.
"That's not what…I mean, I was going to—"
She suddenly grabbed his lapels and pulled until their noses were practically touching.
"My place. 30 minutes."
Still speechless, he watched her saunter away, a sight that was becoming all-too familiar for him, not that he was complaining. It wasn't until she was gone that he realized he had exactly 30 minutes to find out where she lived.
Exactly 26 minutes later, he found himself staring at her apartment door. Clenching his fists, his mind engaged in a lively debate on whether or not to knock and let one thing lead to another.
He did know there were things he wanted to do with, to, and for Kate Beckett that would make Caligula blush, and for that challenge alone, he checked his breath against his hand, and raised his knuckles to knock on the door.
It's not like he was realistically expecting her to answer the door wearing a see-through negligee (though that would've been fine with him), or, come to think of it, even an opaque one, but the normalcy of her loose, off-the-shoulder shirt and simple jeans still caught him off-guard. Maybe because she'd actually opened the door and hadn't yet grabbed his ear or nose or arrested him for sexually harassing a police officer.
Or perhaps his surprise was due more to the look in her eyes; he didn't know if she was as nervous as he was, but she was certainly better at hiding it and replacing it with a smoldering gaze.
Swallowing, he stuck his sweaty hands in his pockets as casually as he could and put on his best smirk. "Is this a bad time, or may I come in?"
She moved to the side, and he stepped over the threshold, close enough for her to catch a whiff of cologne, detergent and the distinct scent of Castle that she'd been privy to earlier. Still delicious.
She followed him into the living room as he swung his head around, taking in her décor, memorizing more details of her life.
"So how did you find out where I lived? Or do you 'know a guy'?"
He smiled at that. "Well, if Ryan or Esposito asks, you left your phone at the scene, and I was kind enough to return it to you." He played with a wooden tchotchke on the shelf and then put it down to look back at her. "Which of course meant they had to give me your address."
"Of course. Well how kind of you, Castle."
He'd moved back to the center of her living room, and they now stood several feet apart, the air thick with tension as their eyes met. No more small talk.
Castle cleared his throat. "So."
"So." She bit her lip but kept her eyes on him, wondering who would flinch first.
After a moment, he brought his thumb to his mouth, chewing gently on the nail. "Were you counting on me chickening out?" His tone was soft, endearingly sweet, she thought, as he dipped his head shyly, belying the darker intentions in his eyes.
"I… did… wonder if you would really make good on your innuendo," she offered, hoping humor might break the ice.
He let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Nice reference, Moneypenny."
She grinned and tried to focus on keeping her breathing under control as he took a step toward her.
"You give out plenty of your own innuendo, too, you know." She arched an eyebrow in response, silently asking him for examples. He conceded quickly, "Okay, a bit less than me, but you still do it."
Stepping closer still, his eyes roamed down her figure, his voice lowering in kind. "Every time you walk away from me—which, by the way, you do quite a bit—you put a little extra swing in your hips." Sweeping back up her body, his eyes found hers again. "You know I'm watching you. I think you like it that I'm watching."
She swallowed, her mouth dry, and her teeth unconsciously found her bottom lip.
He knew her tell; arousal, bemusement, nervousness—Beckett's lip bared the brunt of her emotions, and Castle was pleased with how well he could read her. Pointing at his own face, he continued, "All that lip biting doesn't help, either, especially when you stare at my mouth at the same time."
Damn. She had been staring at his mouth, and now he was as close as he'd been in the hallway earlier, and there was so much to take in all over again: the light stubble shadowing the contours of his chin and throat, the deep blue of his eyes, the fullness of his bottom lip, and she could barely breathe as he continued to stare at her.
Mimicking their previous encounter, he dipped his head and his mouth found her ear. His breath teased across her skin as he spoke, raising goose bumps across her scalp and neck.
"I like your mouth, Beckett."
Fuck.
A rush of blood flushed her cheeks, quickened her pulse, and flooded her core with warmth. She'd never been so turned on and yet so unable to act on it, rooted to the spot as if under some sort of spell.
Castle curled a hand under her ear, cradling her head while he thumbed her cheek. "I like your lips, too." He was staring at those lips, and before she could even formulate a response, he kissed her.
Their mouths opened when they met, and he sucked on her lips—one, and then the other—drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
Oh, he was so good at this.
His tongue curled against hers, his hands digging into her hair to pull her closer. Imitating his gesture, her fingers found his soft hair, gripping harder than necessary, but she couldn't help it, the want thrumming like a symphony through her veins.
Their mouths separated slowly, and he smiled at her rapid breathing, the warm air puffing against his lips. "Mmm, I think I like your lips even more now."
She let out a soft laugh, her fingers still stroking his cheeks and hair. "Yours aren't so bad, either, Castle."
He moved in to kiss her again and was surprised when she pulled back, her eyes darkening as she licked her lips.
"But that's not why you came here."
Her voice was dangerously low, the rough timbre prickling over his skin like electricity, and he suddenly felt the need to adjust his pants. Was she really going to—oh, Jesus…
Beckett's fingers were on his belt, working the buckle until it sprung loose, exposing the button of his jeans. Castle inhaled sharply when her fingers slipped underneath the denim to free the button from its home, and he watched her, hypnotized, as she slowly lowered his zipper.
"Are…" He swallowed, wetting his dry mouth. "Are you sure…?"
The answer came in the form of her palm against the crotch of his boxers. She bit her lip and then ran her tongue over it. "Isn't this what you really, really want me to do?"
She squeezed her hand around him lightly, feeling him harden beneath the silk. A soft moan escaped from his throat. "Yes," he breathed raggedly.
Her hand began a slow journey up and then down his length. She loved the heavy, thick feel of him, but also the power she wielded, and she wasn't nearly done yet.
"Yes, what?" When he didn't answer right away, she stroked him again, drawing another moan.
"Yes… I want this." He could barely breathe.
Her fingers slipped beneath the elastic, skin finally touching skin, and she marveled at his smooth tip, the silkiness of his length. He thrust against her hand, his eyes staring at her in disbelief and arousal.
And then she shoved him down on the couch.
His eyes continued to follow her as she slowly dropped to her knees between his legs, one hand continuing its ministrations while the other made light circles across his abdomen.
"Tell me, Castle." Her breath teased across his newly exposed skin and a shiver ran up his spine. He clawed at the sofa, trying to get a grip, his head pressing against the cushions.
"I want… ahh, Beck…Jesus—"
Her hand fisted around him and she stroked him from top to bottom, rendering him temporarily speechless.
His head lolled forward and he found her eyes at the same time he found his voice, graveled and dark.
"I want your mouth on me."
She started at the bottom, her tongue drawing a light line up the side of his shaft. When she reached the tip, she swirled her tongue around its sensitive skin as she continued to stroke him with her hand. He watched, his own mouth agape, mind unable to comprehend that this was actually happening.
And then she took him into her mouth.
Shit. Shitshitshit.
It was so intense: the wet heat of her mouth, the delicious suction, the absolutely filthy way she played her tongue against him; it was all he could do to just simply enjoy this without embarrassing himself.
She started to move her head up and down, her hands and mouth working in erotic harmony. From her own moans, she clearly enjoyed doing this to him—for him—and that turned him on even more, a wave of heat flushing across his skin as he watched her take him in again and again.
"That feels so good…" he whimpered, fingers entwining her short hair, tensing against the locks like they were his lifelines, and in a way, they were, keeping him as grounded as was possible in this moment.
The pressure building in his loins was delectable, a warm feeling of pure bliss growing in his abdomen, spreading to the base of his spine, even down to his toes. She was twisting her hand now, keeping up the rhythm with her mouth, her lips continuing that wonderful suction, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer.
"Beckett, I'm gonna…ohh…" He was interrupted by a downright indecent move she did with her tongue that almost put him over the edge.
He looked down to see her watching him, and she simply nodded, consenting with her eyes. Oh, fuck, she wanted this. Wanted him to do then she hummed her approval, her voice vibrating against his skin, and he felt spasms deep in his belly.
A few more strokes of her mouth and he was gone, gripping her hair as he emptied into her mouth with a low groan, her name and a few choice words following shortly as she finished him off, extending his orgasm and then soothing him back down with her lips and tongue on his tender skin.
When the bursting lights in his vision finally ceased, and he could at last catch his breath, he opened his eyes and saw her looking at him, her hands soothingly stroking his thighs. Her head dipped coyly, but she kept eye contact with him, sitting back on her heels.
He didn't know what to say, how to accurately convey what he was feeling, so he sat forward, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. Sweeping his tongue through her mouth, he could taste himself mixed with her unique flavor, taking her bottom lip in his as he slowly released her mouth.
Smiling, he continued to hold her close. "You are a remarkable woman, Detective Beckett."
She hummed in response, tonguing her lip as she gazed back at him.
His eyes suddenly turned dark when his hands slid from her face down to her shoulders. Lifting her off the floor, he swapped their positions, sitting her back against the sofa as he crouched between her legs.
"And now, Beckett… it's your turn."
fin.