"This was a good idea," Castle declared into the space of Beckett's apartment, reaching for one of the many steaming cartons of Chinese on the coffee table. In response to his partner's inquisitive eyebrow, he gestured broadly to the room. "A celebratory dinner after wrapping a case, relaxing outside of the precinct, catching killers…"
Beckett hummed in agreement, leaning against the arm of her sofa as she sampled an eggroll. "Especially since you paid for it," she said around the food in her mouth. "Thank you, by the way." She smiled, hiding behind a partial curtain of wavy hair.
Castle easily returned her smile. "Don't mention it."
He watched her out of the corner of his eyes as his chopsticks found another cluster of Chow Mein, but he wasn't being nearly as furtive as he thought when she glanced up and caught him gawking at her.
"Castle, you've been staring at me on and off for almost 25 minutes. Either I have food on my face, or something's bothering you."
He hoped she missed the guilt that passed across his face, which he quickly attempted to cover with a wry smile. Swallowing a mouthful of noodles, he gestured to the corner of his lips. "Well, you do have a little soy sauce right—"
Beckett didn't buy it for a second, giving him that look. "Be serious for just five minutes. Please."
Gazing into the carton of food in his hand, he wiped his mouth and cleared his throat, depositing the noodles back on the table. His hands twined together as he fidgeted on her couch, his mouth opening and then closing several times as he struggled with his words.
She watched him skeptically, his eyes still avoiding hers. He finally spoke, his voice heavy with apprehension.
"You know how… there are things you want in life, but you don't always know how to get them? Or if you even should get them?"
Her eyes narrowed in intrigue but also a touch of confusion. "You think you don't deserve these things?"
This time he met her eyes. "No…"
"So you do deserve these things?"
"Maybe…?"
"Castle," she sighed in exasperation, leaning back against the couch.
He turned his hips toward her, his thigh coming up to rest on the cushion near hers. "I want to tell you," he said quietly. "I'm just… afraid."
The suspicion in her eyes turned to concern, her head turning to look at him until her cheek was resting against the sofa. "Afraid of what? Me?" she asked, genuine worry in her voice.
He tried to reassure her with a smile, suppressing the urge to cover the hand in her lap. "No. Not afraid of you. Afraid of what you might think or do if I tell you."
"Castle, have you done something stupid?"
"Not yet."
"What—"
Before she could finish, he raised his arm and cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. Her eyes widened at the gesture but she didn't move. He could barely breathe, his eyes slowly blinking as he looked at her. She released a quiet gasp, her expression laden with hesitation and uncertainty, and he was a little surprised she hadn't backed away from him.
"I know you're with someone," he whispered, watching her closely as she drew another sharp breath, her eyes avoiding his. "And I shouldn't be touching you."
He started to pull back his hand, but she closed her eyes and leaned into his palm, keeping him in place. "I'm afraid I will ruin our partnership, our friendship," he continued, his voice low. "Our… whatever it is that we have."
She swallowed thickly, her fingers gently covering his wrist, stroking the smooth flesh below his watchband. The sensation sent a tingle across his skin, raising the soft hairs on his forearm. Her mouth opened as if to say something, but he could see the conflict on her face, so he spoke again.
"Kate," he said, and she finally met his eyes. The flash of desire he saw in them sent a flood of warmth through his body, his skin already feeling overheated with anticipation.
"I would've already kissed you," he confessed, his blood pumping furiously in his ears as his thumb made another circle on her jaw. "But I don't think I'd be able to stop. And I don't want to be that guy, and I can't make you be that girl." He paused, taking a deep breath, "But maybe…"
"But maybe…?" she echoed, her voice barely audible.
"Maybe it's worth the risk," he said quietly as he leaned toward her, the movement almost imperceptible, perhaps unconsciously giving her a way out if she wanted to take it.
His nose brushed her cheek, inhaling her sweet scent, and her eyelashes fluttered as rapidly as his heartbeat. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he swore he could feel her pulse hasten beneath his fingertips as they grazed her neck. He hadn't even kissed her yet and he could barely even think straight.
And then his mouth met hers.
Despite the pounding in his chest, the kiss was achingly slow, her top lip caught gently between his before he released it to capture her bottom lip, the sensation drawing a desperate whimper from her throat.
The kiss paused, their eyes meeting briefly, and then the energy around them crackled and something intangible broke free and their mouths met once more. The contact intensified, her hands carding through his hair, their noses and tongues clashing as they both sought to be somehow even closer. A low moan reverberated from his chest, his hands grasping at her shirt as their lips met over and over.
He'd kissed her before—a ruse—and he'd remembered most details of that night, replaying them often in his head. But this felt like a second first kiss that might also be a last kiss, so he tried to commit everything to memory: the feel of her mouth; the gentle slide of her tongue; her soft hair on his cheek; the warmth of her lithe body in his arms; the sexy little sounds she made.
He'd never in his life wanted anyone so intensely as he wanted her, and maybe she wanted him back, and maybe she was with the wrong guy, but he still knew this wasn't right. The emotion welled up in his throat and tightened around his heart, tears pricking at his eyes, and he slowed the kiss, summoning all of his willpower to keep them from crossing that fragile, invisible line.
Their lips parted and the words fell from his mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he exhaled quickly, his chin falling to his chest as he brought their joined hands into his lap. He felt her eyes on him but couldn't bring himself to look at her.
"It's OK," she quietly reassured him, but her voice wavered and he really hoped he hadn't made her cry.
"I should go," he murmured, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would reveal everything in his heart. They really did have a knack for horrendous timing when it came to stuff like this.
With a final caress of her hands, he reluctantly let her go and rose from the couch, trying not to stumble as he headed toward the door.
"Castle," she called out softly, and he froze. "You don't have to… I mean, we can just…"
For a moment, he considered filling in the blanks for her. Forget it happened? Forget how you taste? Forget that I'm hopelessly in love with you?
Instead, he swallowed down a sob that desperately wanted to be heard. "I shouldn't have done that, Kate, and I'm sorry," he rasped.
And not just sorry because she was with someone, or because he thought she deserved everything, which she absolutely did. As he closed the door behind him, he knew his curiosity, his craving, his damned heart had taken advantage of him and completely betrayed him; there's no way he would ever get over Kate Beckett.
fin.