I wasn't going to do this, but one of you beautiful, kind, fantastic readers begged me, and I promised that I would try… if I could find a way to put a different spin on it. One of my greatest fears is to write bad smut. The fact that I have absolutely no romantic/sexual experience at the time of this posting might be a factor. But enough about me! On with the sexy times!
Castle paced impatiently. The company said that they would send their next available workman as soon as possible. That had been over an hour ago. Surely there couldn't be that many busted toilets in Manhattan?
Oh, wait… it was Manhattan. Never mind then.
Despite knowing that his pacing would not accelerate time at all, Castle continued to walk in a steady line from one end of his foyer to the other. He was kind of hoping to get the sink fixed before Alexis came home for the weekend, so that they could all cook dinner together; just like old times. That girl of his didn't come home often enough. It wasn't like she was half the world away! She didn't have an excuse! In Castle's mind, a mountain of homework, twice the classes of most sophomores, countless volunteer jobs and four internships did not count as excuses.
He was just about to roll up his sleeves and try to fix the damn thing himself when the doorbell rang.
Muttering, Castle strode over to the door and opened it, a sharp comment all ready to go for the lazy guy that took so long to–
Only it wasn't a guy.
A very short, faded, form-fitting pair of overalls, a messy bun, a clingy white shirt and ballet flats all adorned the frame of a woman that should never, in any perfect world, be a plumber, unless she was modeling as a plumber for some ad or another.
But there she was, tool belt and all, eyeing him impatiently as he stood there gaping at her like a fifteen-year-old dork.
"You're Mr. Castle, right?" The woman asked, her brow creasing. "You called for a…" She looked down at the clipboard in her hand. "Busted sink?"
Castle swallowed, searching for his voice and finding it somewhere in the vicinity of his kidneys. "Yup, yeah, that's me. Come on in Miss… uh…"
"Beckett." The woman stated, striding in as if she owned the place. She made no ado but went straight for the kitchen, plunking her tool belt down on the floor. She didn't go to her knees, however, instead bending down to open the cupboard below the sink and check out the pipes. Castle couldn't help but appreciate the way the faded denim hugged her ass… which was a pretty damn fine ass, by the way.
"So you're a plumber?" He asked. He then mentally smacked himself for asking her such a stupid question.
"Yup. Don't get a lot of call like these, though." Beckett's head emerged from under the sink, and she gave him a once-over.
"What do you mean? Not a lot of plumbing systems like this?" Castle asked, slightly confused.
"I was thinking more of the plumbing system's owner." Beckett said, winking before disappearing under the sink again.
Did she just…?
"In my experience, pipes are a lot like people." Beckett explained, her voice slightly muffled from her position but still understandable. "They need care and attention, and every so often…" She emerged once more, standing up and wiping off her legs. "A flush-out."
"A what?"
She fixed him with a stare that was half exasperated, half flirtatious.
"You know… getting rid of all that excess energy, the pent-up frustrations, the… need for release."
Castle grinned. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting," Beckett said slowly, "That you let me take care of your…" She glanced down for the barest moment before flicking her eyes back up to meet his. "Plumbing."
"That sounds like an excellent idea." Castle agreed.
To his surprise, Beckett didn't make any more moves of the sexual kind. She turned back to her tool belt and seemed entirely fixed upon the sink. For several minutes she tinkered around, while Castle became increasingly confused. That is, until she undid the straps of her sinfully tight overalls.
Sliding the denim down her body, Beckett also kicked off the ballet flats. Castle blinked rapidly, gripping the counter to try and maintain control. He could tell that she was wearing nothing underneath the shirt and overalls.
"It's always good to prepare your system before you actually go about meddling with it. With a sink, for example, you need to turn off the water flow to the thing so that you don't get a huge spray of water in your face."
"I hear that can sometimes be a good thing." Castle said, swallowing repeatedly.
"Only if it's at the proper time – like when you've put a stopper on." Beckett replied. "Would you take a look at this, here?"
Castle got down on all fours and joined her in peering at the pipes. Suddenly, a huge spray of water struck them both front and center, forcing them backwards. Castle spluttered, startled, as Beckett fumbled around blindly. It took her a minute, as one arm was occupied with unsuccessfully blocking the water from her face, but she managed to stop the flow.
They sat, Beckett sitting back on her knees, Castle sitting with his back against the island, breathing hard. Beckett looked down at her soaked, see-through shirt, and then at Castle's equally went clothing.
"Whoops." She said, her tone as far from apologetic as it was possible to get. Before he could move, she crawled towards him. "Let's get you out of those… uncomfortable clothes." She unbuttoned and peeled off his shirt.
Some men might have been frozen. Some men might have stuttered out an excuse. Some men might have tried to stop her. But Richard Castle was a man of action and reckless decisions, and right now, he wanted action and the woman in currently undoing his belt buckle was already being reckless, so…
"No fair; you need to lose your shirt, too." He leaned forward and seized the bottom of her sopping wet shirt in his hands, tugging it up and over her head. It caught on her bun and somehow managed to undo it, setting her wet hair free and scattering water droplets over them both.
Beckett latched onto his mouth, allowing him to pull her against him. He assisted her in ridding himself of his pants before standing up and hoisting her onto the counter of the island. She wrapped her legs around his waist before reaching down to take him in her hand, stroking slowly.
"Time to take care of that… blockage, shall we say?" She hummed, nipping at his lip. Castle gripped her wrist, removing her hand from him before he lost it completely. Holding her up a little higher, he helped her to sink onto him. Beckett gave a tiny sigh of contentment before hooking her ankles together.
"Don't worry; I work quickly." She teased, licking the shell of his ear. Castle sucked at her pulse point, scraping his teeth gently along her neck. Castle moved steadily, bracing his hands against the counter.
Pressure began to build inside of him like a backed-up drain (great – now he was thinking in plumbing analogies), until he was about ready to burst. "I'm not gonna…"
She cut him off. "Go ahead – I'm close." She assured him.
But Castle prided himself on his consideration, so he reached down between them to work her with his fingers. Having such a hands-on job, he was sure that she would appreciate it. He found her sweet spot surprisingly quickly – at least, judging by her sudden gasp and the way she arched her body, pressing herself against him. She babbled a few words that were mainly incoherent, but must have registered with him on some subconscious level, because he came. His fingers never stopped moving, though, and continued to work until about thirty seconds later, when she came with a scream.
Beckett fully planned on collapsing onto the counter, but Castle refused to let her out of his arms as he slid to the floor, so he took her with him. They lay there in a puddle of water and clothing for roughly a minute, until the clock on the oven began to beep.
The woman in Castle's arms sat straight up. "Rick?" She asked slowly. "What time is it?"
He peered at his watch, which he had somehow forgotten to take off during this entire escapade. "Um… four thirty?"
"Castle!" Kate sprang to her feet, horrified. "Alexis is going to be home in half an hour, if that!"
They somehow managed to get everything cleaned up in time, but their poker faces were ruined when Alexis returned from a trip to the bathroom.
"Hey, Dad? There's something wrong with the toilet; should we call a plumber?"
Kate and Rick both did lovely spit-takes over the dining room table.
And since you've all been good boys and girls this year (reading my smut excepted), I'm going to give you a hint! Life imitates art… fantasies become reality…
*Castle voice* I was being poetic!