Up All Night
White silence coats the streets of the city. Thick heavy snowflakes are falling and New York lays muffled, devoid of its usual music, the blaring horns and sirens and screeching tires.
The loft is quiet around them. The silence amplifies the sounds of modern technology, the whirr of his laptop on the counter, the hum of the refrigerator. A fire dances in the fireplace, crackles and pops, bathes the loft in muted soft light.
She's all long limbs and graceful lines. He watches her move and he is sure she will never stop stunning him. She turns and the edges of her robe scissor open from the loosely belted middle; caress her thighs. His heart skips a beat; it always does.
She reaches up, puts a few glasses back into the cupboard, and the sleeves of her robe shimmy down, expose the skin of her harm. He wants to touch, skim his fingertips along the tender skin of her wrist, feel her breath hitch from the contact.
"Castle." His eyes snap to hers when she calls his name, and he realizes that she's caught him staring. Again, based on the telling smirk of her mouth. But her eyes sparkle with a smile. "You're supposed to be writing."
He sighs. He has two more chapters due in a couple of days, but he's been procrastinating. Preoccupied with more appealing things.
She steps close to him, trails her hand over his shoulder and down his arm. "I'm going to bed." She kisses his cheek softly. "You comin'?"
He entwines his fingers with hers and scoots off the barstool. "Oh yeah," he smiles at her warmly. He snaps his laptop closed and packs it under his arm. "But I'll still have to write," he laments, but he lets her tug him toward their bedroom.
He rubs his tired eyes, stretches his arms out. His lower back is achy, his tailbone is complaining and his left leg fell asleep and now tingles uncomfortably, but his two chapters are done. Satisfied with his work, he hits 'Save' again, then sends an extra copy up to his iCloud. He snaps the laptop closed and puts it on the nightstand.
It has stopped snowing. The skies are clear now, revealing the full moon, bright and high in the sky. Its light glistens off the snow, casting the world in a pale blue tint.
Stretching out under the comforter, he rolls on his side, rests his head on his hand, looking at her. She's so beautiful; it takes his breath away. She's lying on her tummy, her arms flung up high on either side of her head. The sheet has slipped down, exposing her back. Her skin looks almost translucent in the blue glint of light in the room, and he knows that when he runs his fingers up her spine, she will get goose bumps. Her long hair is spread out across the pillow, a riot of dark against the stark white fabric.
He scoots closer to her body, settles one hand against her waist. Her skin is so soft, his fingers tingling to touch, explore. But he won't; she's fast asleep and he can't bear to wake her when she looks so peaceful and content.
He exhales deeply, concentrates on how the air fills his lungs to capacity, then pushes back out. Trying to clear away the remnants of storyline, of words and scenes and bits and pieces vacating his head so that he can get some rest. He closes his eyes.
The small monitor crackles on her nightstand and his eyes snap open again. He listens as the first sounds are audible, still low, murmuring, and he feels her shift under his hand. It's automatic, instinctual.
"Shhhh," he caresses the skin of her back. "I've got this," he comforts her and she settles back into her pillow with a soft hum.
He reaches over to turn off the monitor, then swings his legs out the other side of the bed and makes his way out of the bedroom, pads up the stairs.
The hallway light provides enough illumination when he slowly opens the door and steps inside.
"Hi Jacob," he whispers and steps into sight of the crib.
The baby looks up at the sound, and smiles a wide toothless smile. He's got a hold of his own foot and tries to pull it into his mouth. "Mmummumum… babbabbba…" he babbles, waves his little chubby arms in the air jerkily.
Rick admires his son for a moment. He looks so much like his mommy, the high cheekbones and the slant of his mouth, the shape of his lips. Big eyes shine up at him in the dimly lit room, and they are still blue like his own, but Castle is convinced that they, too, will soon be that enthralling green and hazel mix that will change their hue depending on his every mood.
"Da..daaa," Jacob enunciates more clearly, and tries to lift his head and shoulders. Warmth flows through Castle at seeing how his little boy is learning, is changing fast, growing every day.
He reaches down to lift the baby out of the crib, realizing the good mood will only last so long until the hunger makes itself known. He places the squirming little bundle on the changing table, and quickly changes the boy's diaper while distracting him with a squeak toy. He tickles his belly, blows raspberries on his skin and Jacob gurgles and giggles, happily swinging his arms and legs in the air.
All done, he carries the baby downstairs and to their bedroom. Kate shifts when she hears him come in, sits up and rubs her eyes.
"Hey Jakey," she coos, and Jacob bounces happily up and down in his arms. "Mamamamamam…" he gurgles and Rick hands the baby over to her. She lifts him into her arms, kisses his chubby cheek. "Are you hungry, little man?"
She shifts to lie on her side, her head propped up on her elbow, while Castle helps to place the baby in the right position for his feeding. Jacob quickly latches on to her breast and starts suckling eagerly. Kate strokes his cheek softly, smiles down at her baby, warm and content and happy.
He leaves them to take a quick shower, lets the hot water pelt on his skin, work out some of the kinks in his sore back. Then he slips on boxer shorts, brushes his teeth, and heads back into the bedroom.
Jacob is still eating though his suckling is getting slower and his eyes are droopy, half asleep already. Castle scoots into the bed across from Kate, with the baby between them. For a few moments they are both watching the baby between them, taking in this little 4-month-old wonder.
Kate looks up, runs her hand through Castle's still-wet hair. Her fingers are long, warm against his cooled skin, slightly scratch his scalp the way he likes it. "How did the writing go?"
"Good," he smiles at her, knowing she will be pleased. "Got the two chapters done. It needs some editing, but not right away." She knows he needs to let his work sit a while before he can edit his phrasing and vocabulary.
"Mmmmm," she hums, smiling at him curiously, "so what is Nikki up to next?"
"No, no," he taps her nose with his index finger, "no spoilers for you yet, little fangirl." She pouts playfully, makes a grab for his finger and pretends to bite it. But then she smiles warmly, caresses his hand, interlaces their fingers. She lifts his hand against her cheek and holds him there. Inhaling deeply, she closes her eyes, presses her cheek closer against his hand.
They stay that way for a few moments, wrapped in silence and love that's almost palpable. His chest is heavy, full to capacity, and even though he is an accomplished writer, there are never words that feel adequate enough to express how much he loves her, how she amazes him and challenges him, how happy she makes him.
She shifts and it pulls him out of his reverie. She scoots to sit up, lifting the baby up to her shoulder and rubs his back until all air bubbles are expelled. When she moves to get up, he stops her.
"I'll put him back to bed. You should get some more rest." In his view, she has done enough, just giving birth. He'd do his part as much as possible. She smiles, gives Jacob another kiss, and hands him over. Settling back against the cushions, she watches him leave, and he smirks to himself, thinking she may just be staring at his butt again.
She's still awake when he comes back downstairs. "Is he asleep again?"
"Oh yeah," Rick confirms. "He was out on my shoulder already when I carried him up."
He climbs into the bed, sits next to her, reaches for her hand. "You're not tired Baby?"
"Hmmm," she practically purrs, jolting his midsection like lightning. She looks at him from the side. There's challenge in her eyes. "I was thinking."
His thumb caresses the back of her hand. "About what?"
There's a glint in her smile, a spark in her eyes that burns brightly. "You!" And she shifts around, straddles his lap.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she brings herself closer, and their midsections connect. His breath leaves his chest in a hot burst, and he grabs her waist, pulls her tighter to him.
He snuggles his face in the crook of her neck, deeply inhales the scent of her skin; she smells like cherries and nowadays a little bit like milk, too.
Her fingers trail through his hair, pulls on his head until he faces her again. She nudges his nose with hers, giving him soft Eskimo kisses.
"I love you Rick," she breathes against his mouth, and he swallows the last syllables as he captures her lips. Her mouth is so soft, and he soaks up her taste, sugar and spice, just like her personality. He runs his fingers up her spine and the goose bumps appear, just like he knew they would, and he smiles.
She uses that momentum to swoop her tongue deeper into his mouth again, and then they are kissing deeply, hot and fast and he wants to drown in her taste and her scent and her soft skin. He groans and she shifts on his lap, restless and needy, and so he holds her tightly and flips them so she is underneath him and he is holding himself over her beautiful body.
He pays homage to her skin, dips down soft valleys, over the jagged hills of jutting bones and along strips of sinewy muscles. Her skin shimmers pale in the moonlight, looks just as soft as it feels against his fingertips. He explores her, maps her body with his need, his love for her. Until she's wild, restless underneath him with want, her face flushed, back arched. And he gives her more, gives her everything he has, everything he is.
Not quite able to catch his breath yet, he pulls her close and she comes willingly, snuggles her head on his chest, entwines her legs with his. She's breathing just as heavily still, and he trails his fingers over her shoulders and along her arms.
"Whoa," she breathes out, and he chuckles.
"Yeah."
"You're smug," she accuses playfully, and pokes her finger into his chest. He laughs. But then he captures her chin with his fingers to tilt her face up to his.
"I'm happy," he states.
She smiles up at him, that incredible radiant smile of hers that always takes his breath away, and she kisses him softly.
"Have you slept at all yet?" She asks, running her fingers along the tender skin under his eye. He shakes his head.
She trails her fingers down his cheek and neck. "Get some rest Baby," she urges him, holding him close. And he closes his eyes, secure and relaxed.
"Mama… mamamammm," the baby monitor gurgles again. His eyes snap open, and he groans, "Shouldn't he be sleeping for a couple more hours?"
Kate giggles. "It's 6 in the morning. That's his time."
Castle rubs a hand over his eyes. "Wow, I didn't realize we…" and she giggles again.
"Yeah, we did." She softly kisses his lips, then his forehead. "I get this one. You get some sleep." Then she rolls out of the bed, slips on her robe and saunters out of the bedroom. He stares behind her, admiring the sight of his wife in the morning, all warm skin and soft scent and womanly shape.
The monitor crackles. "Good morning Jacob," her voice transmits through the device, and he smiles at her singing tone. He reaches over and turns off the monitor.
Later today they will bundle up in thick coats and scarves and mittens, and go to the park, where they will show Jacob his first snow. The baby will stick his fingers in it and try to shove it in his mouth, and then they will go sledding, holding the baby safely between them, and Jacob will giggle and squeal. They will come home with chilled toes and red drippy noses, and warm up by the fireplace.
But for now, he sleeps.
FIN