Fic prompt: after that scene in 5x03, Castle shows up at Beckett's place later to get that kiss
He had been thinking about it all evening - how could he not? He hadn't be joking when he said that was the best handshake ever, not even a little bit. Her touch had burned into his skin, the feel of her lingering there even after hours had passed.
He wouldn't be able to sleep, not with her on his mind, not until he got to live out the fantasy that had occupied his thoughts since the words slipped from her lips. It had been titillating in the bullpen, where everything was forbidden, but now it just taunted him.
He banged on the door, harder than necessary but this was urgent!
He needed her. Now.
"Castle, what are you doing here?" she asked, opening the door.
She was surprised, but not disappointed - evident by the bright smile on her face.
He loved that; the way her face would light up when she saw him now. One of the many things he noticed now that they were together - she was always happy to see him, and she didn't try to refrain from showing it. Not in private, anyway.
"I've come to collect," he stated, stepping through the door.
Her smile faded, replaced with a confused look, and he realised she had no idea what he was on about.
"It seems I might be the only one that has been obsessing over this for the past three hours," he concluded.
He reached for her, slowly touching her face and pulling her in for a long, slow kiss.
He felt her lips curve against his, smiling as she realised what was happening.
And, true to her word, she kissed him back, running her hands through his hair.
"Really good handshake," he muttered as he pulled away from her.
She smiled, nodded in agreement before taking a step back. "You coming in?"
"Uh, I can't stay," he informed her - regretfully - because, boy did he want to stay.
"You came all this way for a kiss?"
"I-" He swallowed. "-Yes, I did."
She gently bit down on her lower lip as her head bobbed slightly, a playful glimmer in her eyes.
"Okay." She stepped forward, touched her hand to his cheek and brushed her thumb along his lower lip. "I should make sure it was worth the trip, then."
She pressed her lips to his, her intentions clear.
"Mm," he moaned into her mouth. "Maybe I can spare 20 minutes."
"Thirty," she bargained.
"Deal." He slammed the door shut behind him.
GIF prompt from Tumblr. The GIF really isn't all that relevant but you can check it out on my Tumblr page if you wish.
Set early season 8
He knew what she was doing as soon as her coat dropped to the floor. The black silk slip she wore underneath was his favourite.
She left him, gave him no reasons, just apologies that meant nothing until she would come back to him. And yet, here she was, standing in his dimly lit PI office, expecting something from him.
And he hated that he was going to give her exactly what she wanted.
He crowded her, pushing her backward until she collided with his desk. The force was enough to tip his pen holder over, pens and pencils scattering across the wooden surface, but she didn't flinch, didn't break eye contact.
The smell of her perfume filled his nostrils, fogged his judgement. His mouth captured hers, claiming and possessive, as his hands tangled in her hair.
It shouldn't be like this. He had dreamt of this moment since the night she walked out, but this was nothing like those dreams. In his dreams, it was beautiful; an emotional reunion that was slow, intimate, loving. This was something else, entirely.
He gripped the backs of her thighs, hoisting her onto the desk and standing between her legs as she busied herself with his belt.
"I've missed this," she whispered in his ear, biting into the fleshy lobe.
But she had no right, not when it was her fault. He was hers, undeniably, and she didn't want him. The rejection stung.
He pressed his palm to her lower back, arching her body into his as he slid his hand upward and wrapping her hair around his fist.
She gasped as he tugged, just the right amount of pain shooting through her scalp as she looked into his eyes.
He could see they were clouded with tears and for a brief moment he thought he had taken it too far, thought he had hurt her. But the way she looked at him, the sorrow behind the clouds, he knew the hurt wasn't physical.
She was just as broken as he was.
He dropped his hands - from her hair, from her body - and stepped away.
"You should go."
He picked up her coat from where she had left it, held it out for her to slip into.
She slipped off of his desk. "Castle..."
"I love you, Kate," he reassured her. "But this isn't fair. It isn't helping either one of us."
She knew he was right, but that didn't make leaving any easier.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as he helped her into her coat.
The pain in her voice shattered his heart, but it did nothing to soften his anger. He was tired of apologies, tired of having to be the understanding one. But his pain couldn't change who he was as a person.
He brushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
"Goodnight, Kate."