Lean Wide Out the Window
After that first day, Castle's regimen of waking for pain pills and cat-napping in the chair begins to give way to real alertness. This morning when the doorbell rang and the new chair showed up, his stunned surprise was enough to show her that he's not been exactly present for all of their conversations.
The new chair is much easier to shift in and out of; she hopes he can regain a little dignity. It still has arms, but they lower into the seat - a sleeker design, all in all - and it seems to dawn on him that he's not given Kate any kind of money - no credit card information or even health insurance stuff.
"How'd you do this?" he asks, maladroitly, the words tumbling out of him in that eager face as he rocks the wheelchair back and forth. "How'd you set everything up?"
Kate sits on the couch at a right angle to him in his chair; she reaches out and smooths her fingers over his sweatpants at his good knee, hoping to stop the endless rocking. "I've been setting things up - as you call it - since your accident."
"Oh." He looks at her like he can't fathom her. It makes her ache.
"Castle, you signed the form letting me-"
"No, no, I'm good with it. I just didn't realize. You've done a lot."
She nods and sits back just slightly, waiting on him, but she doesn't know what comes next. She's supposed to go back to the precinct tomorrow, but the boys have offered to cover until there's a call for a body.
"This one is okay?" she asks finally. She knows it is, but it just got awkward. Alexis is at a class; there's just the two of them. This strangeness has got to stop.
"This is awesome. I can move a lot easier. And you won't have to spot me as I shift."
"I don't mind spotting you," she says, letting a little heat curl in her voice. He blinks and grins, wolfish, and she stands up to lean her hands on the arms of his chair. "I don't mind watching you at all."
"Watching me," he echoes, lifting his chin to look at her. It's arousing, having him so blatantly under her, having his eyes undress her even as his hands start skimming her ribs and heading up.
There's a moment of tension, like a dare given and accepted, and then she drags him closer by the arms of the chair, avoiding his propped up leg and sliding in close.
"Kate," he breathes.
"Can I sit?"
"Oh, yes."
She grins and settles over his lap with an arm hooked around his shoulders, cautious but not hesitating, and his arms wrap around her, a content grumble coming up out of his chest. His nose nudges in against her neck, his breath deep and sharp, and she leans her cheek to his head, waiting for him to get what he needs.
She's not sure she can ever get what she needs. Not now.
"How long are you staying?" he asks.
She plays the game, keeps the rest of it out of her voice. "At some point, I'll have to get up. But not for a while."
His laugh is another rumble in his chest, a little bit of annoyance at her for not being serious - what a switch. She finds herself stroking her fingers at the cotton of his shirt and won't make herself stop.
"I'm staying, Castle," she says quietly then. Her mouth brushes a kiss across his forehead, down his temple. He smells like tylenol and sleep; he tastes faintly of warm salt.
His arms tighten around her and she lifts her head once more, strokes a hand over his biceps. "Old chair might have been dangerous to maneuver around, but it's a good work out, huh?" She squeezes his arms.
He preens for her, flexing his biceps and striking a pose, growling when she wriggles in his lap. She laughs and circles her fingers over his arms, a flash of true awakening as she feels the thick and hard edge of his muscle.
Wow.
It shouldn't, but it does.
Castle presses his palms to the backs of her shoulders and pulls her in for a kiss, a little muzzy but ardent enough, his lips pushing open the seal of her mouth, his tongue stealing inside.
She feels it in seconds, the white hot flare of need like it's a stormy night in May, and she tightens her arm around his neck and surges into him. His grunt is all pleased surprise and stay right here and she does, nipping at his lip with her teeth, finding his throat and tasting the hard swallow of his want.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he murmurs at her ear, glancing kisses as his hands work under her shirt in slow strokes. "Kate, you feel so good."
His wordy incantations always make her blood sing, and even perched akwardly in a wheelchair, trying to remember to be gentle, she can't help shifting to straddle him, her knees wedged tightly at his hips.
He groans this time, a warning, and she lifts, putting her weight at his good leg just in time to see the wide smile on his face as he rewards her for it. His fingers slide under her bra, his palms so broad and spanning her back, and she stares down at him, heart thundering.
"We could do it here, but it might be easier in the bed," he murmurs, smirk and love in the look on his face.
"Bed," she decides. "Try the chair later."
He grins - she knew he was thinking about it; but she also knew he couldn't possibly today after the week he's had - and his arms tighten briefly around her, palms burning her skin.
He leans in, two fingers at her sternum, and softly touches his open lips to hers, an echo of the beginning of them. "Well then," he breathes, so close. "Your chariot awaits."
Kate curls on her side and watches him sleep in the deep light of late afternoon. She should get out of bed and do... anything. Any number of things that need doing. She's on call tomorrow and if the boys get a body, she'll have to go in, and surely there are more important things than staring at Rick Castle while he's unconscious.
She can't find it in her to slide out from under the sheets. Her skin is still warm and damp where they touch, these liquid points of contact. The taste of his sharp need, the burning frustration of logistics and shifting to the bed and not twisting his leg, and then finally, finally, finally...
It's still right there; it buzzes under her skin and floats across her vision. Finally. He's sleeping hard but that's his usual, despite the mildness of their encounter due to Kate's gentleness and his handicap. Still felt good to have him, be had, still seems it was necessary to set her mind at ease, and now that she's this close to sleep, she won't deny it.
She wishes she could sleep as easily as him, as deeply. That far gone. It's been a while; her blood has been riddled with caffeine to keep her going and the harsh flicker of stimulant scratches along her nerves as she comes down.
Still she manages to drift, eyelids startling open when the ragged edge of a dream catches her mind and drags her unwillingly into a too-fast slide down the mountain. It's the snap of bone that jerks her awake each time, yanks her conscious like falling, even though that never happened; she never heard his knee crack, though she watched his head hit the ice and her guts turned inside out.
She never heard it.
Her wildly thrashing heart would beg to differ.
Kate's still in the suffocating embrace of exhaustion, can't even move to turn over, can only trace the light-limned edges of his eyelashes on the craggy range of his face, count the flecks of gold it gives him one by one until the drag becomes too much and she's sucked out by the tide.
This time it's the roll of the bed that startles her awake, heart in her throat, a noise dying on her lips.
"You've been asleep a while," his voice rumbles. Vision resolves in the next instant, Castle propped awkwardly on his side, and she stares at him too long. Long enough for him to know. "Bad dream?"
She opens her mouth and draws a hand up to her face, covers her eyes. "I don't know."
"It's nearly eleven."
"Nearly eleven what?" she murmurs. "Wait. Eleven at night?"
"You've been asleep a while," he says again.
She drops her hand and stares at him. "Your pills - the-"
"I got it. I wheeled myself out, took care of it. I'm okay. Alexis brought us pizza for dinner when she couldn't reach you on the phone. I found it."
"Found... found what?" She can't believe it's eleven o'clock at night.
"Your phone. It was on vibrate on the couch. That's why we never heard it."
"I... you had dinner and got your pain pill? And everything."
"Yeah. You were tired, huh?"
She nods and scrubs her hands down her face, struggles to sit up. She feels Castle beside her doing the same and she looks over at him, dressed and presentable and entirely without her help. "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep. I should-"
"So late now. Might as well stay right here," he chuckles, his hand coming out to gingerly brush the hair from her shoulder. Goose bumps flare across her skin and she realizes she's wearing his t-shirt. When did that happen?
"You dress me?"
"I guess you did," he says, his lips creased with a laugh he doesn't let out. "Wow, you were really out of it. I'd be cocky about my prowess in bed if I didn't know for a fact we can do much better than that."
She lets out a grunt of amusement, tilting her head at him. "I don't know, Castle. We did all right. Maybe you just wore me out."
"I think I did," he says, but his voice is soft and his hand trails down the back of her arm to her elbow. "I'm sorry. You haven't gotten much sleep. And on your vacation too."
She shrugs it off, doesn't like having an apology for what's out of their control. Like she needs placating or assurances. "That wasn't it," she mutters, lifting a hand to her hair to try and scrape it off her face. It's not the doing for him that's kept her awake.
"You were worried," he breathes.
She cuts her eyes to him and doesn't really love the way that seems like surprise. "Of course I was."
"About my knee?"
"About... all of it," she mutters, flopping back down in bed and throwing her arm over her face. She can still see it. "Jeez, Castle. You smacked your head on the side of a mountain on your way down. At one point, I watched you slam into a rock and bounce like a pinball, off on a new trajectory, and the whole time your leg was in this... terribly wrong position."
"I don't remember that," he says, a little too eager. He props himself up on his elbow at her side as she peers out from under her arm to look at him. "I remember trying to do the trick and feeling my knee slam into the ground. It hurt."
"And then you tumbled about a hundred yards and I had to chase after you," she grumbles, lowering her arm to study him. All boy - salivating over the juicy details. He slides his hand across her stomach, rucking up the shirt, his fingertips making contrails of awareness under her skin.
"Sorry to put you out, Beckett," he murmurs, but now his grin is sliding off his face. A deeper feeling lies like a veil over his eyes and his hand stills at her ribs. "You haven't been sleeping."
"I just had like eleven hours-"
"Until now," he insists. His thumb makes circles around her belly button and a craving rises up in her, the urge to roll over and press her body to his so tightly she'd feel nothing else.
She doesn't answer because it's pointless, but Castle doesn't seem to need an answer. He tenses his arm at her waist and brings her back against him, awkwardly spooning, his leg in its knee brace, and he drops his mouth to her neck in a kiss that makes her shiver.
"It's eleven. Time for bed, Kate."
She can't possibly fall asleep now, but she lays her hand over his and tangles their fingers together. Her stomach makes a half-hearted protest, growling in the darkness, and they both laugh, Castle's amusement pressed into her shoulder and her own falling to the pillow.
"Want cold pizza?" he whispers. "Midnight snack."
She laughs again and shakes her head. Now that Castle's here, she won't move him off. "Maybe later."
"Ooh, early breakfast. I like the sound of that." His arm tightens around her and she shifts, feels him trying to get comfortable too. "Stay just like this," he sighs.
She stills, his fingers curling at the curve of her stomach, stroking absently, and Castle finally seems to settle. He lets out a long breath that sounds more shaky than she'd like, and she wishes she had turned over so he would lay on his back.
His other hand comes up and brushes the hair from her neck, a broad palm and the sweep of fumbling fingers, and then he lays a kiss just at her hairline, a place she doesn't think he's ever kissed her before, like that, off-center from her spine.
"You smell good," he murmurs, and something of the drowsiness in his voice travels straight through her.
Their positions are awkward and he can't be that comfortable, but she doesn't move, doesn't roll away, only breathes with him in the darkness until it becomes a part of dreams as well.