To commemorate the popping of my fanfic cherry, I'm taking the advice of a little birdy, and giving this fic a new nickname, "Make A Wish a Porn a Star." No doubt, the censor will (justifiably) prevent me from changing the name, but you'll know. And, truly, I consider you, the kind souls who have read this far with me, THE most awesome people in fanfic land. A kiss for each of you!
Chapter 10:
When Cassie came to, the blue light of dawn was creeping in from the balcony. She never fell asleep after sex, but she could understand why people thought she had drifted off. She was light years from earth, and most likely appeared to be sleeping, or worse, comatose. When she opened her eyes, she was happy to see the slumbering hunks lying on either side of her.
Kevin on her right, his skin awash in pre-dawn light, looked like an angel sleeping. He seemed happy, unfettered, unconfused. Ease, and pure pleasure, graced his sweet features. For once, not a brow crease in sight.
Javier on her left, was nestled in pillows of his own biceps. He looked safe and warm and content. No bad dreams. No one coming to get him. He almost looked like he could be giggling in his sleep. For once, permitted to be playful and foolish without paying the price.
Cassie fervently hoped that both would get to sleep like this for a long while before they awoke.
She dove into both of them, but now it was time to swim out the other side. She got up, covered them with blankets, and went straight to her tasks.
"Delivery for Detectives Ryan and Esposito." The delivery boy could barely be seen behind the two massive bouquets.
"Put 'em over there," Beckett motioned to her co-workers' desks.
Castle's mind raced with curiosity, "Wow, that's some thank you note!"
On Ryan's desk stood a towering four foot bouquet of white chrysanthemum, white camellia, and yellow buttercup. On Esposito's desk stood a similar arrangement of red chrysanthemum, cockscomb, and black-eyed susans.
Both bouquets were littered with white yucca blooms and absinth. Attached to the base of each arrangement was a shoebox-sized gift, wrapped in bright aquamarine gift paper, with a sad single azalea blossom where a bow could have been.
Castle only had about ten minutes of theorizing, and googling the corresponding meanings of flowers, before Detectives Ryan and Esposito strolled into work. Oversized coffees in hand, they both wore uncharacteristic sunglasses inside. It was already 9:30 am.
"Soooooooo, how'd it go?" Castle was sitting in Ryan's chair, staggered between their desks so neither could pass. Their new author teammate looked up at them acquisitively, his eyebrows were perched as high as they could reach. His strumming fingers on Espo's desk, gave the impression of a cat ready to pounce.
"Cool your jets, Castle. Let the detectives get their coats off, before we get our full debriefing." Beckett had their back. Good ole' Beckett.
"I'm sure the boys were just as thorough in their interrogation of Ms. Stone as they assured us they would be." Beckett double entendre-d. Dammit! No good ole' Beckett. They were screwed.
Luckily, Cassandra had gone to the trouble of typing up her statement, and collecting one from Jaqui, Kimmi and the rest of her girls. She thoughtfully left triplicate copies of the notarized documents in envelopes on the pillow next to the sleeping detectives. So, no verbal debriefing would be necessary. Kevin produced the envelopes from his inside jacket pocket and handed over a copy each to Beckett and Castle, their would-be interrogators. One bullet dodged.
But now what was all this? Towering floral bouquets? Not terribly subtle. But really, how could they be mad at her? In fact, they were having difficulty being upset about anything. Even their hangovers and sleep deprivation headaches seemed just peachy, in the grand scheme of things.
"Well, are you gonna open it?" Castle was damn near bursting to see what was inside those boxes.
"Nope," Kevin chirped.
"Naw," Javier shook his head.
The two non-interested gentlemen strode into the break room to top up their coffees, leaving Castle to stew in his near cat-killing curiosity. Poor Beckett had to put up with Rick veritably clawing at the furniture all morning, when neither detective would spill.
Finally, when the co-ed mind-reading duo left for lunch, Ryan and Espo rushed back to their desks to tear into their gifts.
Javi attacked his, throwing shreds of gift wrap over his shoulder. Inside he found a 10 inch Lamborghini 1:18 full scale model car. Its exterior paint in authentic Arancio Ishtar red was detailed with his name, "Javi," in flames down the side of the car. When he tested the working doors and opened the trunk, he found a thumb drive stashed inside, labeled "your eyes only." Espo quickly stuffed the drive in his shirt pocket before anyone saw, he hoped.
Ryan slid two fingers under the fold of the paper seam to release the scotch tape from it's hold on the box. When he carefully lifted the lid, he uncovered a ratty binder with the words "Trapper Keeper" embossed across the flap on the front cover. It looked to be a vintage around 1983, decorated in a saccharine array of rainbows, hearts and unicorns.
Confused, he pulled open the Velcro to reveal a Chemistry workbook and spiral notepad attached by three plastic rings to the spine. Kevin looked over his shoulder before he flipped through some of the pages. Page after page held the telltale loopy cursive of a twitterpated teenage girl. The first page read "Mrs. Kevin Ryan" written in about a dozen different ways with hearts and stars and Bunsen burners doodled all around it.
When he flipped through the pad to get an idea of just how many pages were filled this way, his attention snagged on sketches of sea turtles, a Ferris wheel, and an elaborate thanksgiving feast. But when Ryan came across a bare chested figure wearing a black bow tie, who was winking suggestively at him, he shut the note pad quickly and glanced around with discomfort.
In one of the numerous mesh pockets of the outside binder, Ryan noticed a flash drive labeled "your eyes only." He quickly stuffed that into his inside jacket pocket, and hastily shoved the binder back into the box.
"Espo, I can't let Castle or Beckett see mine. I'm headed home for lunch."
"Right behind you, bro. Castle would break this thing inside of an hour. No way he could keep his paws off it."
Both men were too caught up in their own prizes, and the mystery inside, to even inquire about the other's gift. With the urgency of running backs advancing the football from the line of scrimmage, they headed for the door, boxes cradled tightly in the crooks of their arms.
Javier locked his apartment door behind him and made a B-line for his laptop, plugged in the drive, and pulled up a chair. His right knee bounced impatiently as he waited for the file to open.
Kevin, at his own apartment, was about the very same business.
On both screens a video file began to load. Cassie's smiling face appeared, but she didn't speak, only the soft buffeting of wind on the microphone could be heard. She was holding a camera, walking around the balcony, taking a pan of the sunrise view and New York before it woke up. It was gorgeous, even with the slight tremble of the handheld recording.
Then she crossed into the atrium, revealing it's swank interior to Javier for the first time, while sending a shiver of recognition up Kevin's spine. She kept walking past the salty water, the lounge, and the pool table, picking up pieces of stray clothing as she came across them. When she exited the rear of the atrium, she circled round the flag pole, into the kitchen, where playing cards still swirled over the table. Next, she moved on to the bedroom suite, and into the bathroom. The actress panned to soaking wet pink socks on the floor, and hung them over the curtain rod to dry.
At last, she emerged to survey the bedroom from door and love seat on her left, across the bed to the fireplace and mini bar on her right. She crawled up to the bed and laid back down between the sound asleep Javier and Kevin. With her selfie-cam, she smiled and kissed Javi on the forehead ever so lightly. Then she turned to Kevin, brushed his hair back from his face, and kissed him on the cheek. Finally, she blew two kisses into the camera and turned it off.
Ryan's cell phone rang, "Yo, you watchin' what I'm watching?"
"Yep, tour of the suite, and our good night kisses?"
"Can you believe this, bro? This girl is unreal."
"Ughhh, Javi, do you have another video on yours?"
"What?" In a few seconds, Espo watched another file automatically begin to load. This video image was green and grainy, like a security feed. What was it? Esposito tilted his head trying to arrange the shapes into a meaningful picture. When human figures raced across the camera's line of sight, it dawned on him…the balcony!
"Oh shit!" Javier yelled into the phone when he recognized his naked ass getting tied up on a familiar pole.
Kevin asked tightly, "Javi, are you watching the Atrium?" his stomach flipping in knots. The thought of Esposito's eyes on the sanctum of his role play with Cassie and their first union, was terrifying. Not because he feared ridicule, although certainly his partner would have had a field day with that, but because he worried that the magic gust of wind that had filled his sails during it, would be deflated, if the secret were violated. He was just praying his fears were unfounded.
"Naw, dude, mine's the balcony and the pole."
"Okay, good." With Espo's negation, Ryan's blood pressure dropped nearly twenty points. He was watching an actual sex tape, not a grainy security feed. It started from about the time Jax left the atrium. 'Sneaky whispering women up to no good.'
The image of Ryan in his towel, and then most definitely not in his towel, as he climbed over Cassandra's body, included way more detail than his fantasy life had previously called for. He was in the habit of painting out the details of her body, her expressions, their conversation, the scene around them, even the smells and tastes, but it never included this much detail about his own backside.
Honestly, he had no idea that the muscles in his ass needed to contract that way in order to thrust. And he certainly had no reason to dwell on the awkward tilting angle of his pelvis in missionary position. His overanalyzing mind raced to compare it with what he had seen Javier doing this morning, which seemed like a wholesale different approach.
Espo's voice interrupted Kevin's thoughts of his partner's naked form, "I'll call you back, bro!"
Startled, Kevin shook out a, " Ah, Sure. Right." He was so engrossed, he forgot that the phone was still hanging on his ear, let alone that Esposito was on the other end of it. In fact, he had trouble ripping his eyes away from the screen to find the button that would disconnect the call.
Both men watched in utter fascination their own starring roles in their first ever porno's, at once hypercritical, and overly in love with, their own performances.
Just as the video feed showed Cassie settling back into Javi's lap on the lounge chair, Espo's phone buzzed on the desktop. Relief washed over Javier when he realized that Kevin decided to text back, instead of calling, considering the level of arousal and vulnerability the video had enkindled. Shakily, he took his phone in hand. Of course, she was hot, but watching himself be so exposed proved a little unnerving.
Text from Ryan: "There's another video. You've probably got it too."
On Javi's computer screen flashed some diffuse light, but no image. He heard a scream. 'Uh oh.' Then something wiped the lens clean, and he could clearly see the familiar shower.
Text from Javier: "Damn, I am huge in the morning. Sorry Bro."
Text from Ryan: "Hey 'accidents' happen, right?"
Kevin was so happy to have regained enough control of himself to joke with Javier about what could have become a serious kink in the smooth ebb and flow of their relationship. They were in uncharted territory, and he realized now that it had the potential to shipwreck everything between them. It didn't occur to Ryan, until just this moment, that he would have been devastated if things had gone differently, if the playing and nakedness had somehow morphed into awkward regret, in the light of day. He thanked his lucky stars, and mainly Cassie, that both men seemed to walk into the precinct today with more trust, not less, than they had left with the night before.
Text from Ryan: "There's more."
Text from Javier: "I see it."
Text from Ryan: "Damn, you athletic, bro. Well done."
When he read this text, in response to the scene in the bedroom, Esposito felt a knot of tension over his chest untie itself. Kevin was okay. They were still square with each other. He had gathered that his partner still enjoyed himself with Cassie, even with his presence. But Ryan had taken Espo's advice, and focused solely on Stone. He barely made eye contact with Javi, during the whole exercise. And when he did meet Espo's gaze briefly, to acknowledge he was ready, Ryan's face was an imperforate picture of concentration. Nothing in his eyes was for his partner.
At the time, Espo tried to tell himself this was because Kevin was nervous and feeling awkward, and not to take it personally. But truth be told, Javier had really craved a moment of reassurance during the event. Nothing too much, nothing to imply gloating, or gaping at the implausible scenario, he just wished Ryan could have given him the slightest wink, to affirm that they were in it together. That he wasn't losing Kevin to doubt or fear.
The price of playing tough guy was that other men rarely knew when he needed a boost - and he couldn't dare to break down and ask.
When Javi had nudged Kev awake, all seemed well. They did their best to pull themselves together and get to the precinct in record time, only stopping for clean clothes and coffee on the way. In fact, Ryan's permagrin was damn near unstoppable, even when the horizontal morning light through the windshield forced both of them to dig out their sunglasses. Ryan even commented that the sun at 9 am was 'beautiful' on the street. With puerile candor, Ryan lamented that usually this hour would see them knee deep in casework, or canvassing near a crime scene. Breathily he lamented, "What a pity we miss it, everyday."
At any other time, his young partner's guileless appreciation would have drawn a raised eyebrow, or worse mockery, from Esposito. But today, Espo was busy riding his own high of self-righteous egotism throughout the morning, as he replayed in his mind Cassie's voice singing "Javiiiiiiii" in the throes of passion.
But Kevin's vocal appreciation had been impersonal, almost ecumenical, in its extension to all of God's green earth. He still hadn't exchanged a single word or look with Javier, that registered the magnitude of what last night meant for their relationship going forward, good or bad.
But this text exchange had confirmed, without a doubt, that the bromance was still on. He and Ryan would only be tighter after last night. With the news, Javier's high intensified. He scrutinized the bedroom action on the video with a new fierce enthusiasm. When he watched himself tag Kevin in the first time, none of his imagined fears were in evidence, only lust, and maybe more passion than he had noticed the first time around.
Javier suddenly felt a surge of uncontainable incredulity over their collective machismo. Did they really just pull last night's caper off, without a hitch, from beginning to end? Was that really him and his partner on screen? With the Cassandra, no 'Cassie,' Stone? He shot out of his seat, and lapped the room in big bouncing steps, just to release some of the surplus energy coursing through him, before coming back to plop in front of the computer, and take in more.
Text from Javier: "Damn, you sexy, bro. She's gonna watch this shit every night for the rest of her natural life."
Ryan didn't reply since this was the moment, nothing was more important than reliving Cassie's soprano-like sounds, and the curl of her pelvis, and slam of his hips, as they both crescendoed toward orgasm. A few moments later, Espo poked again.
Text from Javier: "Now, how 'bout that 2 weeks of paperwork you owe me?"
A long moment passed while Kevin parsed out his reply. Espo flitted around his apartment distracted by the excess power surging through him, absently pretending that he was ready to get some actual lunch before returning to work, as if he could focus on something so mundane and sequential right now. He opened and closed the refrigerator door at least three times, but none of its contents registered in his mind.
Finally, Espo's pocket buzzed, giving him permission to give up the charade of productivity.
Text from Ryan: "Dear Mr. Esposito, after reviewing the instant replay, the refs have declared this match a draw. Better luck next time. Sincerely, The Entourage"
Text from Javier: "Next time, huh? Alright, you're on, bro."
Credit to the excellent authors, and highly amusing personalities, that have welcomed me to fanfic and helped me get this story out: Twisha, The Black Sluggard, SelimPensFiction, JamieSpencer4, purplangel, GeekMom, FuelDH206, Starships and Stopwatches, Detective Mexy, RoninBlackwing, Supremelyorange, forevercaskett41319, Hulihana, Dmarx, mari25225, SilverArtemisKO, concreteangel16, myboygeorge, and the extraordinary Ms. Scarlett.
Thank you!
And thank you for reviewing…