crăciun fericit, everyone! (merry christmas to all my english-speaking friends)


prompt: sometimes Castle says dirty things in his sleep


"Mmmm. Kate. Yeah, oh yeah, Kate."

Kate blinks awake, dazed for a second – is Castle talking to her?

It takes her sleep-fogged brain a moment to process, but she suddenly realizes that in sleep, her hand slipped from his chest down. A lot down. Her hand is settled between his legs, fingers pressed lightly over the obvious bulge. He's restless, twitching, his hips drawing up into her hand. Heat floods her cheeks. He's openly grinding into her palm.

"Kate." He thrusts into her palm, his hand fisting in the loose cotton t-shirt she's wearing. Her fingers curl instinctively and he lets out a soft groan. "Fuck, fuck– " A wave of heat curls through her belly at his rough, sleep-drugged voice, low and husky. His hand finds her breast, curls around it, and she shivers.

Biting her lip, Kate lightens her touch, slipping her fingers up under his shirt to trace featherlight circles around his navel, feeling the hitch of his abs, the stutter in his breath. His body is tense, straining against her as she reaches down to palm his crotch again.

"Mmm, oh yeah. Oh fuck me," he growls, his voice dripping with sex. She cups him a little harder, relishing the pressure, sliding her middle finger in a tight circle over the tip of him through his boxers. "Oh fuck fuck fuck. Yeah. Oh, harder," he breathes.

She curls her hand around the length of him, straining now against the fabric of his boxers, and starts to pump him, slowly, slowly, teasing, enjoying the deep groan that rumbles through his chest –

Before she realizes it, his hips buck sharply and he comes in his pants, a chorus of fuck fuck Kate escaping his lips.

He finally settles, his breathing deep, a faint smile turning up his mouth, his face slack and blissful.

Kate stifles a laugh, choking back the urge, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder and leaning to whisper into his ear.

"You shot too soon, Castle."