When she wakes up, she feels sore. The scar between her breasts is beating out its usual angry rhythm and her ribs ache, like she's been sleeping on a pile of bones. Kate peels her eyes open, attempts to stretch out, but her legs are tied down, numb.

She shifts, manages to glance down the length of the couch she's lying on. Her vision is still blurred with sleep and it takes a moment to clear, for her mind to connect that her legs are tangled with his.

The fog of sleep immediately clears from her mind.

Shit, she fell asleep on top of Castle.

Kate lifts her head, braces herself for his gaze and all it might hold, but the sharp line of his jaw is the first sight she encounters. His head is turned away from her, his eyes steadfast and directed at the coffee table. She follows his gaze, feels warmth and an excitement that has grown almost foreign in the last two months spill through her chest.

His arm is stretched downwards, a pen in his grasp as he awkwardly works to jot down words on one of the legal pads her dad leaves all over the cabin. She catches 'Nikki' and 'Rook' on the page, shifts over him to try and see more-

Castle startles beneath her, glances away from the paper. His eyes soften once they land on her, his lips stretching into that smile he saves for her.

"You're awake."

"You're writing," she rasps. It's something she's meant to ask him about all summer - the books, Nikki Heat, if there was any of her story left to tell. But she received the email confirmation for a pre-order just last week, only a few days before his visit, and now she yearns to inquire about Heat Rises.

He drops the pen atop the sheet of paper, reaches forward to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers tuck it behind her ear, travel along the braid down her spine-

"Did you braid my hair?"

He shrugs, sheepish, but tugs on the tail of it. "After you fell asleep, I just laid here with you for a bit, started playing with your hair. I'm good at braids."

"Always touching something," she mutters, but she lets him see the smirk spreading onto her lips.

"Can't help it," he murmurs, his voice light, but his eyes are a crisp blue staring back at her, alive and crackling. Leftover intensity from writing, she's sure, but the longing dripping through his gaze is something she's seen trace amounts of before. In the precinct when they're at the precipice of solving a case, when he's handing her a cup of coffee, when he tells her 'until tomorrow' at the end of a long day. "I've - okay, this is going to sound creepy, but I can't tell you how often I wanted to touch you, Kate. And not - not in the way that you'd think, but just…" His thumb strokes the edge of her jaw, follows the angle of bone to brush along her chin. "Like this."

The shiver slithers unbidden down her spine, has her easing closer to him. Her body has rarely gone unappreciated by significant others, but she doesn't think anyone has ever come close to the awe Castle holds for her. And he hasn't even seen her naked yet, hasn't truly had her.

Every touch between them has been tentative and new, exploratory, but he still traces his hands over her as if he already knows every line. As if he already treasures every part.

Castle releases a breath, traces his thumb down the column of her throat.

"Especially after we kissed," he murmurs, but it's more of a husk that teases sparks through the kerosene of her blood. His thumb presses to the hollow of her throat, lingers before trailing up the ridge of her clavicle. "After the freezer, the night in LA. I wanted you so bad-"

She silences him with her mouth, silences the honesty that stings too much. She can't bear to hear about all the times that could have lead to more, how much he wanted her while she couldn't be had.

He was right before - they weren't ready, the timing was wrong, they would have sunk. Doesn't change the truth of it all.

"Wanted you too," she breathes, feeling his chest hitch beneath hers. She clings to his bottom lip with her mouth, plucks at it with her teeth, and slips her tongue past when he moans. "I hated how much I wanted you."

She's practically on top of him, her upper body strength fleeting, leaving her draped over his chest while her legs remain tangled with his. She feels more than hears his growl, senses the rush of desperation that floods through him at the confession.

The delicate exploration of her bones is forgotten by his fingers as they coast down her sides, splaying wide at her waist and snagging in her tanktop. Her hips rock and she gasps, clutches the collar of his shirt as fire spills through her veins.

This is probably going a little too far into the deep end, but the sweet taste of gasoline is on her tongue as it strokes his, matching the caress of his hands beneath her shirt, and she just wants to keep going until she drowns.

"Kate," he groans, like he's reading her mind, like he knows she's going to drag them under soon. His palms halt when they ascend higher up her backbone, discover no barrier. He moans, breaks away from her to tilt his head back, panting. "You're not wearing a bra."

"Too much work," she mumbles, pressing her nose to his cheek as she tries to breathe. But she's not wholly sure if she's talking about the bra or her restraint.

He rests his hands over her shoulder blades, draws her back from the depths of desire with the gentling brush of his mouth to the corner of hers.

"I gladly would have provided assistance."

Kate huffs, nips at his cheek, and grins as he digs the crescent moons of his fingernails into her skin.

"Enough for now," he murmurs, dragging his hands from her shirt, leaving her skin cold.

"I know," she mumbles, her voice sounding so throaty, drenched in sex, to even her own ears. "For now."

He swallows, his adam's apple rippling with it. She doesn't resist the urge to drop her lips to the movement of his throat, an innocent press of her mouth before she lifts her head.

"But not for long, Castle."

"I'm - yeah, probably not," he admits, easing up into a sitting position beneath her. He takes her with him, one of her arms remaining hooked around her waist as he rises. "But until you're better, until you're ready-"

"Enough for now," she echoes. "I know. I'm good with making out until then."

He laughs, some of the sparkling hints of lust dissipating, allowing the delight of his amusement to slip in. Castle reaches for one of her hands, brings her knuckles to his lips without extending her arm too high. It's a simple touch, but when he lets her go, the imprint of warmth remains seared into her flesh, not all from arousal this time.

The giddy feeling swirling through her chest isn't a familiar one; it's almost nauseating, the way it rushes through her like a swarm of butterflies, tickling her sternum, feathering along her lungs.

"Yes, making out is definitely good enough for me," he grins, rising from the sofa and stretching his arms over his head. "Want to head outside for a while? It looks like it might rain soon."

Kate follows his gaze to the sliding glass door that leads to the lake, offering a clear view of the gray clouds huddling in the sky.

"Probably should have checked the weather before I invited you out here," she sighs, accepting the hand he holds out to her.

He hauls her up easily. "Rain or shine, you know I still would have come."

Rick curls his fingers around hers, but she stops him with a press of her thumb before he can start for the door.

"Wait, Castle, your writing," she protests, casting her gaze back to the legal pad on the coffee table. She still has questions, still has that lingering softness in her chest from waking up to see him writing, maneuvering around the tangle of their limbs and the blockade of her on top of him just to get the words down without moving her. Words about her, because of her.

"I'll get back to it tonight," he assures her. "Don't worry, Kate, you provided me with enough inspiration in the last few minutes to last for the next week."