Inspired by a piece of Random-Ship's fanart and written to celebrate her birthday, which can be found at random-ship dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 32519326803.
"What're you thinking about?"
He resists the temptation to roll away from her, away from that question. He knows he's been quiet all morning in a way that's unnatural for him, and it's obvious that Kate's picked up on it. But he can't help himself; they're returning to the precinct tomorrow, and he selfishly fears that everything will change.
Her suspension wasn't exactly a happy development, but they were determined to make the best of it, and make the best of it they certainly did. It turned into blissful days spent in harmonious companionship, and steamy nights spent in each other's beds (they spent many a day there, too). They were inseparable, and while he suspected they'd be good together, he'd no idea just how good.
It's been so effortless with her, so fun. Without a doubt, the best he's ever had. They compliment each other well, their personalities and tastes and desires meshing better than they have any business doing so early on. But, he supposes, that's what happens when you're best friends first, lovers second.
They spent mornings lounging in bed and making love, showering and preparing breakfast together. They roamed though bookstores and parks hand-in-hand, sneaking kisses behind the shelves or pushing the other up against a shady tree and making out like giggly teenagers. At night, they'd chat and make plans over dinner and a fabulous bottle of wine, falling asleep in each other's arms. It's been pure bliss, this uninterrupted time they've had together, and he's loathe to give it up.
But he refuses to give into the sorrow that's tugging at his heart about it. Kate is already concerned about the change in their relationship status and what that could mean to their professional partnership. NYPD regulations explicitly state that partners cannot be romantically involved, and while they're not sure that rule even applies to them, they have no desire to tempt fate. The last thing he wants to do is add to her worries on their final day of sweet freedom.
He shrugs, going for nonchalance. "I'm just thinking about you."
"Liar." So much for nonchalance.
"Whaaaaat?" His feigned ignorance falls flat, even to his ears.
"Is this about tomorrow?"
Of course she knows. Hasn't she proven to be just as attuned to his thoughts as he's always been to hers? Sleeping together has only intensified the connection.
"Yeah. Kinda."
"Okay, fair enough. What has you worried?"
Damn it. Of course she wants to talk about it, too. Can't they just skirt around the topic like they did in the past? Veil it in subtext and hidden meaning and just leave it at that?
Apparently, avoidance isn't an option, as Kate begins to fill in the blanks herself. "Are you worried about us continuing to work together? That the NYPD will put an end to our partnership if they find out about us?"
That concern is lingering in the back of his mind, certainly, but the truth of the matter feels far more self-centered to him. "Well, yes. Sort of."
"Sort of? You wanna elaborate?" Ever the interrogator...she's like a dog with a bone, this woman.
"I just…I'm gonna miss this." He huffs out a sigh as he flops onto his back, mildly ashamed at himself for sounding like such a wet blanket.
Suddenly, she's hovering over him, throwing a leg over his waist to straddle him and prevent his escape from her knowing eyes.
"Hey, listen to me. Yes, I love my job, and there's a part of me that's looking forward to getting back into that routine. But, do you honestly think I'm happy about giving this up? Do you believe for a moment that I'm not going to have a hard time keeping my hands to myself too? That I'm not going to hate the fact that I can't just take your hand in mine, or lean over and give you a kiss whenever I feel like it?"
He shakes his head in wonder; of course she's on the same page already. It makes him so damn crazy for her, he just wants to shout it from the rooftops, but he settles for reaching up and cradling her jaw in his hand, stroking the silk of her cheek with his thumb. She nuzzles into his palm and presses a tender kiss to the skin there, before turning back to him with a dazzling smile.
"Castle, the last six weeks have been amazing. You've been amazing. You made my suspension feel like an extended vacation, and I've loved every minute we've spent together. And tomorrow? Nothing changes. We're still us. I'm still yours, and you're still mine. We just…have to control our baser instincts."
She punctuates her last comment with a little grind of her pelvis, and it has him sucking in a breath, gasping her name as he grabs her hips and presses up into the cradle of her thighs.
"I'm gonna miss doing this whenever we want to." His hands are roaming her body freely now, working her up, but from the look of things, she's on board with his plan, her own fingers moving with confidence over his bare torso.
"Me too, but think of it this way: we'll have all day to think about what we wanna do to each other when we get home at night."
He groans as she rocks against him, gripping her waist as he surges upward, sitting with her squarely in his lap now.
"Jesus Beckett," he murmurs against her mouth. "How are we gonna contain ourselves?"
She laughs against his lips, breathy and high-pitched and completely turned on.
"Let's worry about that tomorrow."
Thank you for reading...as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.