New Fic: The Upper Hand (Castle, Castle/Beckett, T)
The usual disclaimers apply: I don't own them, never will, blah, blah, so on and so forth.
Title: The Upper Hand
Castle (Castle/Beckett, T) one-shot fluff
The Upper Hand
Castle (Castle, Castle/Beckett, T) one-shot fluff
***
Kate Beckett is out of breath, and it's all Castle's fault.
She tightens her grip on his shoulders and pants, "Is there anything that you're not good at?"
"Is that a complaint I hear?" he chuckles. "Don't forget, this was your idea."
He's right. This was her idea, and and it's way too late for second thoughts. She's not surprised by Castle's energy and his unflagging enthusiasm--that's just who he is-- but she is surprised by his expertise.
She exhales sharply and blows a strand of hair out of her face. It's late afternoon and the air is hot and heavy with humidity. Castle's body is hot and heavy as well, but she wraps her legs around him a little tighter anyway. He grunts softly and grins. His blue eyes twinkle with his usual good cheer, but there's something dangerous there as well--something dark and smoky that rises up and challenges her--and she feels an answering jolt deep in her belly.
"Had enough?" he asks huskily.
"Not nearly."
She bucks underneath him and twists her hips, and then he's on his back. She's the one on top now, and she uses her position to her advantage, leaning in close to him until she feels his breath hot on her lips.
"What about you, Castle?" she teases. "Ready to plead for mercy?"
"Never."
He rolls quickly to his side and she traps his knee at the same time that he grabs her elbow. She doesn't push her advantage, and neither does he, each of them applying just enough pressure so that the other is aware of just how debilitating the joint lock could be. She won't gain the upper hand, not this time. For one thing, they're just too evenly matched, and for another...she doesn't want control. She needs a partner, not a rival. Their skills complement each other, and that's exactly the way that she likes it.
"I can think of better ways to make a human pretzel than with judo," he says softly.
"And more enjoyable things to lock?" she smiles, releasing her grip.
"Oh, yeah." He uses his hold on her elbow to roll her gently across the mat toward him. He smiles tentatively, uncharacteristically unsure of himself, but she grabs the cloth of his gi and pulls him close.
His kiss is soft at first--a question more than a caress--but it still ignites something within her. Heat blooms across her skin and she slides her hands into his hair, kissing him harder, opening her mouth to his. She has wanted this--has wanted him--for too long now to be satisfied with anything less than everything he has to give. He responds in kind, putting a hand in the small of her back, and pulling her tightly against him, kissing her deeply, urgently, making her acutely aware of just what she's been missing since she met him. This, too, is something that Castle's exceptionally good at.
She hears voices in the hall and pulls away from him, unwilling to be caught making out on the floor of the precinct's workout room. By the time Ryan and Esposito arrive, she and Castle are back on their feet and collecting their belongings.
"So who won?" Ryan asks.
Castle, for once at a loss for words, just smiles, shrugs, and leaves. Beckett sidesteps the question and follows him out, but not before she hears Esposito murmur, "I think they both did, man. About damn time, if you ask me."
He's waiting for her in the stairwell. He takes her gym bag from her, drops it to the floor beside his own, and presses her against the wall. Castle takes her face between his palms and kisses her hungrily, and she sighs and melts into the contact. It's too much and not nearly enough, and he finally lets her go, winks, and whispers "'Night, detective," as he leaves her alone with her thoughts.
Kate Beckett is still out of breath, and it's still all Castle's fault.
***
fin
Title: The Upper Hand
Castle (Castle/Beckett, T) one-shot fluff
The Upper Hand
Castle (Castle, Castle/Beckett, T) one-shot fluff
***
Kate Beckett is out of breath, and it's all Castle's fault.
She tightens her grip on his shoulders and pants, "Is there anything that you're not good at?"
"Is that a complaint I hear?" he chuckles. "Don't forget, this was your idea."
He's right. This was her idea, and and it's way too late for second thoughts. She's not surprised by Castle's energy and his unflagging enthusiasm--that's just who he is-- but she is surprised by his expertise.
She exhales sharply and blows a strand of hair out of her face. It's late afternoon and the air is hot and heavy with humidity. Castle's body is hot and heavy as well, but she wraps her legs around him a little tighter anyway. He grunts softly and grins. His blue eyes twinkle with his usual good cheer, but there's something dangerous there as well--something dark and smoky that rises up and challenges her--and she feels an answering jolt deep in her belly.
"Had enough?" he asks huskily.
"Not nearly."
She bucks underneath him and twists her hips, and then he's on his back. She's the one on top now, and she uses her position to her advantage, leaning in close to him until she feels his breath hot on her lips.
"What about you, Castle?" she teases. "Ready to plead for mercy?"
"Never."
He rolls quickly to his side and she traps his knee at the same time that he grabs her elbow. She doesn't push her advantage, and neither does he, each of them applying just enough pressure so that the other is aware of just how debilitating the joint lock could be. She won't gain the upper hand, not this time. For one thing, they're just too evenly matched, and for another...she doesn't want control. She needs a partner, not a rival. Their skills complement each other, and that's exactly the way that she likes it.
"I can think of better ways to make a human pretzel than with judo," he says softly.
"And more enjoyable things to lock?" she smiles, releasing her grip.
"Oh, yeah." He uses his hold on her elbow to roll her gently across the mat toward him. He smiles tentatively, uncharacteristically unsure of himself, but she grabs the cloth of his gi and pulls him close.
His kiss is soft at first--a question more than a caress--but it still ignites something within her. Heat blooms across her skin and she slides her hands into his hair, kissing him harder, opening her mouth to his. She has wanted this--has wanted him--for too long now to be satisfied with anything less than everything he has to give. He responds in kind, putting a hand in the small of her back, and pulling her tightly against him, kissing her deeply, urgently, making her acutely aware of just what she's been missing since she met him. This, too, is something that Castle's exceptionally good at.
She hears voices in the hall and pulls away from him, unwilling to be caught making out on the floor of the precinct's workout room. By the time Ryan and Esposito arrive, she and Castle are back on their feet and collecting their belongings.
"So who won?" Ryan asks.
Castle, for once at a loss for words, just smiles, shrugs, and leaves. Beckett sidesteps the question and follows him out, but not before she hears Esposito murmur, "I think they both did, man. About damn time, if you ask me."
He's waiting for her in the stairwell. He takes her gym bag from her, drops it to the floor beside his own, and presses her against the wall. Castle takes her face between his palms and kisses her hungrily, and she sighs and melts into the contact. It's too much and not nearly enough, and he finally lets her go, winks, and whispers "'Night, detective," as he leaves her alone with her thoughts.
Kate Beckett is still out of breath, and it's still all Castle's fault.
***
fin