5. meredith
They stumble off his elevator in a tangle, her arm thrown around the back of his neck, his hand inside of her sweater, splayed across her back, both of their feet trying to take steps without tripping over the other. The hallway is blessedly deserted, as it generally is at two o'clock in the morning, long empty swaths of carpet only serving to absorb the sounds of tripping heels and barely contained groans.
"Castle," Beckett breathes into his mouth, shoving him a little bit so she doesn't end up laid flat out on the hallway floor. "I thought you hate it when I drive."
Castle grunts an unintelligible noise into her neck, using his grip on her waist to spin her up and against the wall. "I don't hate it when you drive my Ferrari," he licks into the skin behind her ear, biting down as she arches against him with a gasp, letting her head loll back against the wall behind her.
"You like watching my hand on your stick?" He swallows her teasing tone with his mouth, tongue stroking slippery against hers as he presses her farther backward, palm landing solidly just beside her head with a dull slap. His reaction is a bit of a surprise, she's driven his car before, and drives him around in her own on a daily basis, but he had just enough to drink at dinner, and her dress is just on the right side of too short, the perfect storm of I need you right now.
He slides the hand not holding himself above her down and underneath the hem of her dress, loose enough for him to slide a palm completely up the outside of her thigh. He's squeezing then, dragging an ahh from her lips as he moves his other hand down, hoisting her up so she's got both legs wrapped around his waist and his rather obvious reaction to this whole situation pressed directly against the scrappy piece of lace in between her thighs.
Castle's mouth moves from her lips to her cheek and across her jaw, open and hot and wet as he grinds his hips against her, making her gasp. Her hands slide through his hair, gripping at his ears as her hips twist up and off the wall, encouraging him even though they're practically in public and his bedroom is only feet away.
"Castle," she moans into his ear, bites her lip as she tries to clear her throat enough to speak. "Castle."
He brings his head back up so he can look at her eyes, but it really does the opposite of helping deter him from completely ravaging her in the middle of his hallway because she watches his eyes darken considerably as he takes in the look on her own face. She doesn't have the ability to see her own expression, but if it's anything like the one he's shooting her, she needs to get control of this situation, and fast.
"Castle," she starts again, swallowing thickly as he presses his forehead to hers, letting his hands trail lightly up and down her thighs, fingernails scraping gently as she tries not to twist into the sensation. "If you never ask me to drive again at the precinct," she says thickly, lips brushing just barely over his, voice flirting with the tone she only ever uses in the bedroom, "I'll let you fuck me against this wall."
He growls into her mouth as he swallows her words, pressing his tongue against hers again and again until he tears himself away, leaving her panting. He's got a glint in his eye she knows all too well.
"Beckett, Beckett," he sing songs, pulling another kiss from her lips, too coherent for the state he's in. "That really doesn't seem like a fair trade." His voice drops low as he lets his hips grind into hers again, making her climb the wall behind her because it feels so good. His mouth is at her ear again then, biting and then breathing hotly. "You're way too into this."
He's right, of course, damn him for being able to turn her on like this, but she could honestly not care less as long as he doesn't stop.
"Take me inside then." She's impatient, knows she's tipping her hand but she wants to be not standing up, she wants him to –
"What if I don't want to take you inside?" He sinks his teeth into the soft skin of her neck, thumping with the blood he's made hot for him, tonguing it like he owns it.
She gasps his name again, squeezing her legs around his middle, her crisscrossed heels digging into his lower back. She's just contemplating actually letting him do this to her against the wall in front of the elevator when she hears the familiar sound of his front door opening, down the hall on her left. Her head snaps in the direction of the sound, but she's too fuzzy with lust to do anything but stare as she watches fiery red hair come strutting out through the doorway. The cold, lightning fast dread that zips through her at the thought of Alexis catching them doing this is quick, but then Meredith is turning her smug face toward them, expression frozen in surprise and…victory? at catching them in the act.
Beckett shoves at Castle's chest as she unhooks her legs from around him, all but falling down the wall as he finally realizes they have an audience. He steps in front of her, shielding her for a moment as she rearranges her dress, tugs it down her thighs so she doesn't look like she was just letting Castle have his way with her in public.
"Well, well, well, hello Richard," Meredith finally speaks, shouldering her thousand dollar handbag as she steps fully into the hallway. Beckett slides off her sweater, passing it to Castle as stealthily as she can, mumbling for him to hold it in front of his pants just as his daughter peeks her head out into the hall to see what all the commotion is about.
Beckett feels her cheeks pink as the girl's eyes widen, and then dart away from them, staring at the floor.
"Alexis dear," her mother addresses her, eyes narrowly staring at the disheveled couple still hunched against the wall. "You didn't tell me your father and Detective Beckett are seeing each other. Against walls."
Before Castle or Beckett can respond, Martha pops through the doorway as well, and then it's a red headed, three tiered grandmother-mother-daughter viewing party as Beckett tries not to melt into a pool of embarrassment on the carpet she's sure costs more than she makes in a month.
"Oh Kate, hello darling!" comes Martha's voice, ringing clearly and jovially through the space, cutting some of the tension. No one seems angry, Beckett is glad to see, but Meredith is the type to twist someone she finds in a compromising position, especially if that someone is the other woman in Castle's life.
"Hi Martha," Beckett says, peeking around Castle's shoulder and then stepping out front behind him, not keen to play submissive in front of Meredith. Sure, they got caught mounting each other in the hallway, but she's not about to let Meredith torture her about it. "Alexis, Meredith," Beckett says in greeting to the other two women, affecting a cool façade. She can tell Castle is impressed beside her, but she doesn't want to look at him.
It's all put on pleasantries after that, Meredith showed up unannounced, again, tried to crash for the night at the loft but Martha apparently nipped that one (Beckett makes a mental note to thank her later), and was just heading off to find a hotel when she happened upon Castle and Beckett in the hallway. Alexis looks pink cheeked through their entire exchange, but does nothing but shrug noncommittally at her dad as she leaves the adults in the hall.
"Well, don't let me keep you," Meredith says, voice dripping with put upon agreeableness. "I know how Richard gets when there's a woman with a tight dress around." She has the audacity to wink at Beckett as she breezes past, like they're sharing an in joke about a mutual conquest (gross), and then saves one last dainty wave for Castle as she steps onto the elevator and heads down.
"Well, that was awkward!" Martha blurts before airily drifting back into the loft, heading for the kitchen, and three wine glasses, Beckett would guess.
"Did she just wink at me?" Beckett asks Castle under her breath, looking a little bit shell shocked as she follows him into the foyer and pushes the door shut behind them.
"I wasn't going to say anything in case you didn't notice," he says, pursing his lips exaggeratedly, looking very much like he wants to point out exactly how little control over Meredith he has. "And just for the record," he stops as Martha hands them both full wine glasses and then retires upstairs with a wave, "that thing she said about me and women in tight dresses is not true."
Beckett's eyes roll and narrow as she swipes her sweater away from where it's hanging over his pants and takes a large sip of her wine, indicating to his lap with a raised eyebrow as she does.
"Well, I mean, you're the exception of course. You could be wearing a plastic bag and I would still react like this." His voice knocks down to that throaty grumble she loves so much as he gazes hotly at her over his wine glass advancing on her now as she backs her way across the living room to his office.
"I don't think I'm in the mood anymore, after that," she throws at him over her shoulder as she walks unhurriedly toward his bedroom door, rolling her neck and yawning. He crowds up against her back in a second though, dropping an open mouthed kiss against her neck.
"Beckettttt," he whines, drawing out her name in that way he always does. "Don't be cruel." She shakes her head from side to side, pretending to consider it, but then he's in front of her and walking her backward until she bumps her back against the wall again.
"Don't make me spill my wine, Castle."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he breathes into her mouth, and then he's kissing her again, slow and deep and maddening. "I'll make it worth your while," he promises around her tongue, letting his free hand move up her side to cup her through her dress.
"Mmm," she sighs. "Is that right, kitten?"
He stops abruptly at the use of the nickname, one he hasn't heard her utter since that first time she met Meredith, four years ago. She tries to hold back the laugh bubbling up her chest at his face, but mostly fails as he crowds her further into the wall, looking very, very serious.
"I thought I told you not to ever call me that." She shivers at the darkness in his tone, lets her hips rub against him just at the sound of it.
"Sorry, couldn't resist."
"I'll make you sorry," he swears into her ear as he sets his wine down on the dresser next to them, freeing up both hands to draw fire from her body.
"I thought you were going to make it worth my while." He's everywhere on her at once as she tries to remain unaffected, but then he's plucking her own wine from her fingers, leaving her powerless against touching him.
"You were just two seconds away from letting me fuck you in the hallway," he says, throwing her own words back at her very, very successfully. "I think I can do both."
"Hmm, if you can," she muses, letting him slide his hands back under her thighs to pick her up and walk her back toward the bed. "I'll consider never, ever calling you – "
Before she can get the nickname out of her mouth, he's tossing her onto the bed, climbing her until their mouths are fused together and her dress is pushed halfway up her flushed body.
She calls him many things that night, but none of them is kitten.