(FIC) Corona and Caskett
Title: "Corona and Caskett"
Characters/Pairings: Castle/Beckett, Ryan, Esposito, Lanie
Rating: PG-13 for alcohol consumption and mild language
Spoilers/alerts: None.
Summary: It's going to happen eventually anyway, right? So why can't the boys make a game out of it?
The launch of his newest book, “In Heat,” had Richard Castle and his friends from the twelfth precinct dressed in their most luxurious (and expensive) clothing, sipping cocktails and chatting it up with supermodels. After the public party, Castle invited the people he knew personally back to his apartment, where the after-party was much quieter, and, oddly, happier than the main event.
Castle had spared no expense for his friends, having his late-night (or rather, early morning) party catered and inviting all the cops with whom he had ever worked. All of them came with the conspicuous exception of Demming, whose invitation, Castle claimed, had apparently been “lost in the mail”. Even Montgomery’s wife and son were there; the captain and his wife sat together on the couch talking quietly while his son slept on a spare mattress on the floor in Alexis’s room.
Ryan and Esposito had taken command of the kitchen island and were sitting in front of it with bottles in their hands, surveying the partygoers. To the untrained eye, they appeared to be scanning the crowd, looking for something or someone suspicious, as though their detective habits never rested. However, they did, in fact, have a very specific purpose.
The music grew softer to allow the boy upstairs to sleep and shifted to a slow song that had Castle’s eye glinting deviously. He spotted Montgomery ask his wife to a dance, joining Alexis and Owen in spinning and swaying in the dim light. Sauntering up behind Beckett, he smiled, turned her around, slipped his arms around her waist, and pulled her tight against, swaying to the music and turning periodically in a strange half-attempted waltz.
“Castle!” she hissed into his ear. “What are you doing?!” He said nothing and only smiled, holding her tighter still. She made a frustrated face but didn’t protest - she knew it would get her nowhere and only add to his satisfaction.
“Come on, it’s a slow song,” he sighed. “When was the last time you actually danced?”
“The last time you forced me to,” she muttered, gritting her teeth but swaying with him to the soft melody of the sappy love song in the background. Lanie had moved into the kitchen to grab another cocktail when she spotted Ryan and Esposito speaking in low tones, conspiratorially, to one another. She stuck around to listen.
“When Castle makes a move but passes it off as friendship,” Ryan quoted, squinting at a sheet of paper in front of his face. “There it is: number six. See?” He pointed to an item in the list on the paper and Esposito rolled his eyes, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand as Ryan beside him mirrored his movements. Then a thought struck him-
“When Beckett is okay with him making a move,” Esposito said, “or something like that... isn’t that another one?” He snatched the paper from Ryan’s hands and skimmed the list. “Yep, there it is: ‘One drink if Castle makes a move but passes it off as friendship; two drinks if Beckett does not refuse Castle’s advance’. That’s another one, bro.” They both took another drink.
“Is this…” Lanie gaped. “You’re playing a drinking game? Based on those two?” She spent a moment looking appropriately flabbergasted and disapproving, before her face melted into pure amusement. “And no one invited me?! That’s it, I’m in.”
Ryan wrinkled his nose. “You can’t just jump in halfway,” he said, as though pointing out the obvious. “We’ve been playing all evening. We’re already up to - how many has it been, Mrs. R?”
“Fourteen,” said the woman at the end of the island, struggling to keep her eyes open.
“Mrs. R,” Ryan asked tentatively, “how many have you had?”
She smirked sleepily. “Why keep track, darling? I’ve had enough for right now, but not too many.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Esposito muttered to Ryan, who chuckled.
Lanie was determined. “I’m still in, though. Let me catch up to you, and then we’ll play.”
“Fine...If you think you can keep up,” Esposito acquiesced with a wink.
“You scared?” she jibed, gliding smoothly to the fridge and pulling out several bottles.
“Nah, I just don’t want to have to pick you up off the floor later on.”
She set the drinks on the counter and pulled up a bar stool next to the partners in crime. “So what are all the rules-“
“THERE!” Ryan said suddenly, cutting her off. “Look, do you see that?” He grabbed the list off the table and scanned it quickly.
“What, bro?”
“That one’s on the list.”
“What?”
“Look where his hand is. And she’s not making him move it!!!”
The other two looked at the couple, revolving slowly in the center of the living room. Esposito jumped when he saw Castle’s hand slipping lower and lower on Beckett’s back. Ryan had just groaned and reached for his drink when-
“CASTLE!”
Esposito laughed, relieved, and set his bottle down again as Beckett pulled Castle’s hand back up and planted it firmly around her waist.
“Damn,” Ryan muttered under his breath, “that was a close one.”
“I know,” Esposito agreed.
“You know,” Castle said to his dance partner; the four at the counter grew hushed as they listened. “If you hadn’t said how much you hate dancing, I never would have made you do this.”
Beckett raised an eyebrow. “So what, is that ironic or something? Or are you just pointing it out to annoy me?”
Esposito looked over at his partner expectantly. Ryan looked confused, so Esposito cleared his throat. They sat in silence until Esposito rolled his eyes, grabbed the list, and threw it at Ryan.
“Reference to irony,” he said as though speaking to a brick wall. “It’s on the list.”
“Damn it, really?” Ryan read through it. He and Esposito drained their bottles.
“You too,” Esposito added, looking over his shoulder at Lanie, who opened a bottle of her own and took a sip from it. “If you’re in, you’re in.”
- - -
One by one, the officers in attendance decided it was time for the party to end, said their goodnights, and filtered from the apartment. The diligent competitors at the island remained, steadfast. The game went on.
“Shit, come on, Beckett!” Ryan mumbled, holding his stomach gingerly as she twirled her hair in response to something Castle had said. Esposito took a drink, chuckled, and handed him another bottle, which Ryan opened sadly and took a drink.
“You’re losing, bro,” Esposito said softly. Lanie, who had long since dropped out of their game, sat with Alexis in Castle’s study, watching Rick and Kate talk. Glancing over, Esposito caught her eye and her smirk widened. He looked pointedly at the couple on the couch (where they had replaced the captain and his wife) and then back to Lanie, who nodded.
Yes, she seemed to say. I see it too.
The game progressed slowly after that; every time Beckett looked over at the boys, Ryan and Esposito pretended to be deep in conversation, ignoring the pair on the couch entirely. Lanie smacked both their shoulders lightly as she gathered her purse and left, hugging Kate in passing. Alexis, glad that the party had finally drawn to a close, dragged herself sleepily upstairs, where Martha was already snoring.
In fact, the boys in the kitchen had nearly forgotten about their game when Ryan happened to glance over Esposito’s shoulder. He gasped softly and his eyes grew larger than his partner had ever seen them.
“What’s up, bro?”
“They’re… kissing,” Ryan whispered as softly as he could. Esposito’s head whipped around to see the pair on the couch in a gentle, tender lip lock, Beckett looking as though she wasn’t quite sure what was going on, Castle as though experiencing indescribable bliss.
“Shit,” Esposito murmured. “I didn’t think they’d actually do it…”
“Apparently we’re not the only ones who’ve had a little too much to drink,” Ryan added.
Esposito smiled at his comment. “Yeah, but we’re about to have a little bit more.” Ryan looked at him confusedly. “Didn’t we decide that swapping spit was worth an entire bottle?”
Ryan looked panicked and turned back to Castle and Beckett. “Their lips‘re still closed,” he said hastily, grasping at straws, dreading the thought of more alcohol. “There’s no spit being-“
But at just that moment, Castle leaned forward and deepened the kiss, pushing Beckett gently back onto the couch. She gave a soft “mfmbd!” that might have been words, had her mouth not been a bit busy at the time.
“…and there goes my limit,” Ryan slurred sadly as both he and Esposito grabbed fresh beers and clinked the bottles together. “Cheers.”
They hadn’t even gotten halfway through their bottles when Ryan felt the blood drain from his face. His lips started tingling and his palms suddenly grew clammy.
“Y’okay, bro?” Esposito asked, looking at his partner with interest.
“No,” Ryan muttered, his chest swelling slightly as he fought to maintain control. “I don’t feel so hot…I think I’m gonna-“ His face paled even further and he dashed to the bathroom just before his stomach decided that it had had enough of their game. It wasn’t long before Esposito followed him, the noise from Ryan’s distress forcing his stomach to make a decision of its own. They both slumped to the bathroom floor, feeling thoroughly disgusted but deciding that they’d deal with it in the morning.
“You lost,” Esposito mumbled.
“Bite me,” Ryan mumbled back, moaning softly before stretching out on the cool tile of Castle’s bathroom floor. Two pairs of bleary eyes closed as the boys drifted into unconsciousness.
It was a good thing, too. If they had been awake to see it, what happened after the kiss would have been worth three entire bottles, at least,
Characters/Pairings: Castle/Beckett, Ryan, Esposito, Lanie
Rating: PG-13 for alcohol consumption and mild language
Spoilers/alerts: None.
Summary: It's going to happen eventually anyway, right? So why can't the boys make a game out of it?
The launch of his newest book, “In Heat,” had Richard Castle and his friends from the twelfth precinct dressed in their most luxurious (and expensive) clothing, sipping cocktails and chatting it up with supermodels. After the public party, Castle invited the people he knew personally back to his apartment, where the after-party was much quieter, and, oddly, happier than the main event.
Castle had spared no expense for his friends, having his late-night (or rather, early morning) party catered and inviting all the cops with whom he had ever worked. All of them came with the conspicuous exception of Demming, whose invitation, Castle claimed, had apparently been “lost in the mail”. Even Montgomery’s wife and son were there; the captain and his wife sat together on the couch talking quietly while his son slept on a spare mattress on the floor in Alexis’s room.
Ryan and Esposito had taken command of the kitchen island and were sitting in front of it with bottles in their hands, surveying the partygoers. To the untrained eye, they appeared to be scanning the crowd, looking for something or someone suspicious, as though their detective habits never rested. However, they did, in fact, have a very specific purpose.
The music grew softer to allow the boy upstairs to sleep and shifted to a slow song that had Castle’s eye glinting deviously. He spotted Montgomery ask his wife to a dance, joining Alexis and Owen in spinning and swaying in the dim light. Sauntering up behind Beckett, he smiled, turned her around, slipped his arms around her waist, and pulled her tight against, swaying to the music and turning periodically in a strange half-attempted waltz.
“Castle!” she hissed into his ear. “What are you doing?!” He said nothing and only smiled, holding her tighter still. She made a frustrated face but didn’t protest - she knew it would get her nowhere and only add to his satisfaction.
“Come on, it’s a slow song,” he sighed. “When was the last time you actually danced?”
“The last time you forced me to,” she muttered, gritting her teeth but swaying with him to the soft melody of the sappy love song in the background. Lanie had moved into the kitchen to grab another cocktail when she spotted Ryan and Esposito speaking in low tones, conspiratorially, to one another. She stuck around to listen.
“When Castle makes a move but passes it off as friendship,” Ryan quoted, squinting at a sheet of paper in front of his face. “There it is: number six. See?” He pointed to an item in the list on the paper and Esposito rolled his eyes, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand as Ryan beside him mirrored his movements. Then a thought struck him-
“When Beckett is okay with him making a move,” Esposito said, “or something like that... isn’t that another one?” He snatched the paper from Ryan’s hands and skimmed the list. “Yep, there it is: ‘One drink if Castle makes a move but passes it off as friendship; two drinks if Beckett does not refuse Castle’s advance’. That’s another one, bro.” They both took another drink.
“Is this…” Lanie gaped. “You’re playing a drinking game? Based on those two?” She spent a moment looking appropriately flabbergasted and disapproving, before her face melted into pure amusement. “And no one invited me?! That’s it, I’m in.”
Ryan wrinkled his nose. “You can’t just jump in halfway,” he said, as though pointing out the obvious. “We’ve been playing all evening. We’re already up to - how many has it been, Mrs. R?”
“Fourteen,” said the woman at the end of the island, struggling to keep her eyes open.
“Mrs. R,” Ryan asked tentatively, “how many have you had?”
She smirked sleepily. “Why keep track, darling? I’ve had enough for right now, but not too many.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Esposito muttered to Ryan, who chuckled.
Lanie was determined. “I’m still in, though. Let me catch up to you, and then we’ll play.”
“Fine...If you think you can keep up,” Esposito acquiesced with a wink.
“You scared?” she jibed, gliding smoothly to the fridge and pulling out several bottles.
“Nah, I just don’t want to have to pick you up off the floor later on.”
She set the drinks on the counter and pulled up a bar stool next to the partners in crime. “So what are all the rules-“
“THERE!” Ryan said suddenly, cutting her off. “Look, do you see that?” He grabbed the list off the table and scanned it quickly.
“What, bro?”
“That one’s on the list.”
“What?”
“Look where his hand is. And she’s not making him move it!!!”
The other two looked at the couple, revolving slowly in the center of the living room. Esposito jumped when he saw Castle’s hand slipping lower and lower on Beckett’s back. Ryan had just groaned and reached for his drink when-
“CASTLE!”
Esposito laughed, relieved, and set his bottle down again as Beckett pulled Castle’s hand back up and planted it firmly around her waist.
“Damn,” Ryan muttered under his breath, “that was a close one.”
“I know,” Esposito agreed.
“You know,” Castle said to his dance partner; the four at the counter grew hushed as they listened. “If you hadn’t said how much you hate dancing, I never would have made you do this.”
Beckett raised an eyebrow. “So what, is that ironic or something? Or are you just pointing it out to annoy me?”
Esposito looked over at his partner expectantly. Ryan looked confused, so Esposito cleared his throat. They sat in silence until Esposito rolled his eyes, grabbed the list, and threw it at Ryan.
“Reference to irony,” he said as though speaking to a brick wall. “It’s on the list.”
“Damn it, really?” Ryan read through it. He and Esposito drained their bottles.
“You too,” Esposito added, looking over his shoulder at Lanie, who opened a bottle of her own and took a sip from it. “If you’re in, you’re in.”
- - -
One by one, the officers in attendance decided it was time for the party to end, said their goodnights, and filtered from the apartment. The diligent competitors at the island remained, steadfast. The game went on.
“Shit, come on, Beckett!” Ryan mumbled, holding his stomach gingerly as she twirled her hair in response to something Castle had said. Esposito took a drink, chuckled, and handed him another bottle, which Ryan opened sadly and took a drink.
“You’re losing, bro,” Esposito said softly. Lanie, who had long since dropped out of their game, sat with Alexis in Castle’s study, watching Rick and Kate talk. Glancing over, Esposito caught her eye and her smirk widened. He looked pointedly at the couple on the couch (where they had replaced the captain and his wife) and then back to Lanie, who nodded.
Yes, she seemed to say. I see it too.
The game progressed slowly after that; every time Beckett looked over at the boys, Ryan and Esposito pretended to be deep in conversation, ignoring the pair on the couch entirely. Lanie smacked both their shoulders lightly as she gathered her purse and left, hugging Kate in passing. Alexis, glad that the party had finally drawn to a close, dragged herself sleepily upstairs, where Martha was already snoring.
In fact, the boys in the kitchen had nearly forgotten about their game when Ryan happened to glance over Esposito’s shoulder. He gasped softly and his eyes grew larger than his partner had ever seen them.
“What’s up, bro?”
“They’re… kissing,” Ryan whispered as softly as he could. Esposito’s head whipped around to see the pair on the couch in a gentle, tender lip lock, Beckett looking as though she wasn’t quite sure what was going on, Castle as though experiencing indescribable bliss.
“Shit,” Esposito murmured. “I didn’t think they’d actually do it…”
“Apparently we’re not the only ones who’ve had a little too much to drink,” Ryan added.
Esposito smiled at his comment. “Yeah, but we’re about to have a little bit more.” Ryan looked at him confusedly. “Didn’t we decide that swapping spit was worth an entire bottle?”
Ryan looked panicked and turned back to Castle and Beckett. “Their lips‘re still closed,” he said hastily, grasping at straws, dreading the thought of more alcohol. “There’s no spit being-“
But at just that moment, Castle leaned forward and deepened the kiss, pushing Beckett gently back onto the couch. She gave a soft “mfmbd!” that might have been words, had her mouth not been a bit busy at the time.
“…and there goes my limit,” Ryan slurred sadly as both he and Esposito grabbed fresh beers and clinked the bottles together. “Cheers.”
They hadn’t even gotten halfway through their bottles when Ryan felt the blood drain from his face. His lips started tingling and his palms suddenly grew clammy.
“Y’okay, bro?” Esposito asked, looking at his partner with interest.
“No,” Ryan muttered, his chest swelling slightly as he fought to maintain control. “I don’t feel so hot…I think I’m gonna-“ His face paled even further and he dashed to the bathroom just before his stomach decided that it had had enough of their game. It wasn’t long before Esposito followed him, the noise from Ryan’s distress forcing his stomach to make a decision of its own. They both slumped to the bathroom floor, feeling thoroughly disgusted but deciding that they’d deal with it in the morning.
“You lost,” Esposito mumbled.
“Bite me,” Ryan mumbled back, moaning softly before stretching out on the cool tile of Castle’s bathroom floor. Two pairs of bleary eyes closed as the boys drifted into unconsciousness.
It was a good thing, too. If they had been awake to see it, what happened after the kiss would have been worth three entire bottles, at least,