Love Games
He wasn’t planning on being the sensible, responsible one. To be honest, he had planned to get completely sloshed. But, when Esposito finally arrived at Castle’s little shin-dig, he realised that wasn’t going to happen.
Esposito had been the last to leave the station that evening after they discovered someone needed to re-interview Mrs Spencer (their key witness). Beckett played the female card (which was so rare, they were all caught a little off guard), claiming it took her longer to get ready for Castle’s party than it did the rest of them.
“Unless you’re planning on curling your hair and putting on make-up,” she’d teased them. “Ryan I have a lipstick that would look great on you!”
Castle had immediately declared he had a million things to do to get ready for the party and therefore couldn’t possibly assist in the re-interviewing process. Esposito was sure he had hired people to do everything for him, but it wasn’t like Castle could interview her on his own anyway, so he accepted it.
Ryan had simply blurted “Shotgun! You’re it!” when he went to open his mouth.
And so Esposito had been stuck with the near-painful task of re-questioning Mrs Spencer. Normally, he would have just asked her the new questions and been finished within half an hour, but Mrs Spencer was an 86 year old woman who was hard on hearing... and comprehending.
“Hey I remember you! You were here with the pretty little blue-eyed boy the other day. What do you mean you have to ask me more questions? I already answered them all!”
“Yes ma’am I know, but we have some new information and I just need to check a couple more things with you.”
“Sorry?”
“I said I NEED TO CHECK SOME THINGS WITH YOU.”
“Alright, alright, no need to shout young man.”
Esposito swallowed a sigh.
“The day before you heard the gunshot, did you notice a blue van outside?”
“A blue man? No.”
“A blue VAN.”
“I said no. Are you deaf? I’m pretty sure I would have noticed a blue man outside.”
It had taken Esposito two and a quarter hours to question Mrs Spencer, only to discover their hunch was wrong and they were back to square one. By the time he’d driven back to his apartment, showered and changed and caught a cab to Castle’s place, the party was already in full swing.
“Heeeeey! Esposito!” Ryan greeted him loudly as he slid ungracefully from his stool and made his way over.
“Hey man, having fun?” Esposito smirked as Ryan wobbled in front of him.
“Yes! This party is great! But you took sooooo long to get here!”
Apparently long enough for you to get hammered, Esposito thought. And now I’m gonna have to be the one who remains sober enough to get you home.
“Yeah well I had to re-interview Mrs Spencer all by myself, didn’t I? So much for my partner backing me up, eh?”
Ryan frowned. Then hiccoughed.
“Here! Have some!” he suddenly said excitedly, thrusting the remains of his drink into his partner’s hands.
Esposito grinned. He couldn’t stay mad at Ryan for wanting to unwind. Not when it was what he had planned on doing himself. And not when Ryan’s blue eyes were sparkling at him excitedly like that.
“I’ll think I’ll go get a fresh one, bro,” he said, but needn’t have bothered as Ryan had gotten distracted by an attractive woman sauntering past with a bright purple cocktail.
“That drink is mighty bright! What is it?” he heard him ask her, as he turned to make his way to the bar.
Chapter Two of Four
Esposito slid onto the leather bar stool next to Beckett, indicating to the bartender for two beers.
Beckett looked up at him when he sat down and he noticed the slight haziness in her eyes. Then he noticed the 4 empty shot glasses in front of her. Looks like Ryan and Beckett will be drinking enough for all three of us, he thought.
When the bartender dropped two beers on the counter he slid one to Beckett wordlessly and they clinked them together.
“How’d it go with Mrs Spencer?” Beckett asked.
“No deal,” he answered, taking a swig, “but let’s not talk about work tonight.”
Beckett nodded and took a long drink from her bottle.
“Where’s Castle?” Esposito asked cautiously, sensing that her reserved mood had something to do with him. The over-grown child was usually found at the root of all of Beckett’s problems.
She waved her hand dismissively in the general direction of where Castle was talking animatedly to a group of women, before finishing the rest of her beer in one hit.
“C’mon,” Esposito said spontaneously, standing up from his stool and holding a hand out to Beckett.
She raised her eyebrow in silent question.
“Let’s dance,” he shrugged, gently taking her hand. He expected at least a little hesitation or objection, but she stood from her stool and followed him to where a few other couples were dancing in the centre of the living room.
Sleeping Satellite by Tasmin Archer was playing and Beckett rested her head on Esposito’s shoulder as they moved slowly to the music.
“Why do I do it to myself?” Beckett mumbled into his collar. He didn’t respond, waiting for her to continue.
“I’m such a masochist. Waiting around, playing the stupid game, even though I know how it ends. I lose.”
“It doesn’t matter how unlikely the chance of winning is, you have to be in the game to have that possibility at all,” he told her softly. Over her shoulder, he watched Ryan stumbling around with a bright purple cocktail in his hand, laughing at something Lanie was saying.
“I didn’t ask to play,” she said with a touch of sadness to her voice.
“No backing out now, Becks,” he told her softly, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “It’s better to be losing the game than to watch from the sidelines as someone else plays your turn.”
She removed her head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. “Getting wise in your old age Esposito?”
He let a small chuckle escape his lips as he moved his attention from Ryan, back to the woman in his arms.
“If I was really so wise, I wouldn’t have gotten myself stuck in the game either.”
She smiled as the song finished and a more up-beat tune came on.
“I think maybe we should stick to scrabble from now on,” she smirked. “Much more fun.”
“I’m not sure either game would be fun playing with Castle,” he said, returning her smirk.
She held his gaze for a moment, as if debating whether to deny Castle had anything to do with their conversation, or whether to just admit it out loud to both of them. In the end she settled on “I need another drink” and they both moved back to the bar where Castle, Ryan and Lanie were discussing how to best kill off a serial killer in Castle’s next book.
Chapter Three of Four
The rest of the night moved by quickly. There was drinking (mostly by Ryan and Beckett, but they all had a bit too much if the truth be known), dancing (mostly by Castle and Beckett who seemed to be dancing closer and closer together with every song) and laughing (mostly at Ryan’s expense). By the time the apartment had started to clear of guests, Esposito’s brain was fuzzy around the edges, his feet ached slightly from dancing and his eyes were starting to get heavy. Time to call it a night.
“Yo, Castle, thanks for a great night,” Esposito said, clapping his friend on the shoulder where he was leaning against the bar in front of Beckett. “Becks are you coming with us or...” He let the question hang in the air.
“Yeah. I should,” she nodded.
“You can stay here if you like,” Castle quickly interjected. “I mean, it’s a long cab-ride home...”
“Thanks, but I think I need my own bed tonight Castle,” Beckett told him, but hesitated on moving further away from him. Esposito picked up on their need to say goodnight privately, mumbled a “meet you outside” and started on trying to get Ryan out the door.
“But I haven’t finished dancing!” Ryan complained when Esposito told him it was time to go home. Lanie laughed.
“Enjoy your handful!” she called unhelpfully to Esposito as she grabbed her purse and headed out the door with her date.
“Just one more purple drink?” Ryan asked, giving him a hurt-puppy look.
When Esposito finally managed to get Ryan out of Castle’s apartment and into the hall, he had to sling one of Ryan’s arms over his shoulder and snake one around his waist to help him walk in a straight line. It didn’t help that his own legs were somewhat wobbly from one-too-many beers.
“I wanna push the button!” Ryan exclaimed excitedly when they finally staggered to the elevator. Ryan was the only person Esposito knew who regressed to a child when drunk. He’d think it was pathetic if he didn’t think it was so damn cute.
Esposito let Ryan push the button, which he did eventually after missing the first couple of tries, and Beckett appeared at the same time as the elevator cart. Beckett had had more to drink than either of them, but still managed to pull it together better. If it wasn’t for the slightly red eyes and the fact that she was standing at an odd angle, Esposito probably wouldn’t have figured she was drunk at all.
When they got outside, Beckett flagged down a taxi on the first try. Typical, Esposito thought, taxi drivers are so much more likely to stop for an attractive woman than two drunk men. And Beckett was looking very attractive tonight. Her shimmery black halter dress ruffled in the breeze as she held the door open for him to push Ryan inside. Maybe it was the beers interfering with his brain-to-mouth reflexes, but he decided to tell her right then.
“Beckett you look very pretty tonight.”
She looked startled, but recovered quickly with a “thank you, Esposito” as she slid in after him.
“What about me? Do I look pretty?” Ryan asked, a frown forming on his face as he looked Esposito in the eyes.
Beckett chuckled softly on his right and he ignored Ryan to give the driver Beckett’s address.
“You never say I look pretty,” Ryan grumbled, looking at his feet. Esposito sighed.
“You look very pretty tonight too Kevin.” He said. He meant it to come out sarcastic, but somehow the sentence lost its edge when it came out his mouth. Ryan beamed at him.
Esposito changed the subject. “Where are your keys, Kev? We’ll drop you off after Beckett.”
“They’re in my pocket,” Ryan said with a sly smile. “Can you reach them?”
“How about you get them out yourself?” Esposito suggested, trying to ignore Beckett’s snickering from his other side.
“Can’t. You’ll have to,” Ryan insisted, leaning back and stretching his legs out to give Esposito easier access to his pockets.
He took a deep breath to control his quickening heart-rate as he slowly searched Ryan’s pockets.
“They aren’t here man, where are your keys?” Esposito asked as he finished searching the pocket on Ryan’s far side. Ryan’s breath was hot on his ear when he whispered “woops, must have left them at Castle’s.”
The taxi pulled up outside Beckett’s apartment building with a screech.
“You be alright to walk yourself up?”
“I think I can handle it,” she smirked, getting out of the cab. Before she shut the door, she leaned in close to him. “Looks like you may win your game after all, detective.” And then she was gone before he could object.
Accepting that Ryan didn’t have his keys, Esposito gave the cabbie his address and soon they were pulling up outside his building. He paid the man, helped a very handsy Ryan into the elevator and eventually they were safely in his apartment. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now he just had to get Ryan to go to sleep before one of them did something they regretted.
It wasn’t as if Esposito didn’t want Ryan to be flirting with him shamelessly. Not like he didn’t love the way Ryan’s eyes kept sweeping over his body, or the way he kept tugging on his shirt when he was hearding him down the corridor. God it was killing him to keep pushing him away. Especially with his foggy brain only half-functioning. But Ryan was drunk and Esposito would not take advantage of his partner like that.
Ryan only ever showed him this sort of attention when he had been drinking. Sure, there were a couple of tension-filled moments every now and then when they’d accidentally brush hands at work or find themselves standing way too close to one another, but the moments were always quickly dissolved and nothing was ever spoken about them. It was only when Ryan had been drinking that he started flirting with his partner. Esposito chalked it up to the alcohol talking and he was not going to sacrifice his friendship and partnership with Ryan by responding to drunken advances.
Esposito took a pillow from the linen cupboard and tossed it onto the couch as Ryan tried to take off his shoes and shimmy out of his jacket. He started making little grunting noises at the effort, and finally Esposito gave in and helped push the jacket off his partner’s shoulders. He could feel Ryan’s gaze on him as he did so, but ignored it. He could smell the sickly-sweet smell of the cocktails on Ryan’s breath as he stood so close, but he ignored that too.
“Right. All set. See you in the morning,” Esposito told him, stepping backwards and turning towards his bedroom, leaving Ryan standing in front of the couch watching him retreat with wide blue eyes.
Esposito fetched a t-shirt from his closet and walked into his ensuite bathroom. He splashed water on his face, brushed his teeth, changed into the shirt and his boxers and studied his face in the mirror for a moment. He let out a deep breath and shook his head to rid any inappropriate thoughts he may have been having about his partner.
When he walked out of his bathroom and back into his bedroom, what he saw made him laugh quietly. Ryan was passed out on his bed, arms and legs spread across the entire surface. Well, he thought, this should make for an interesting morning tomorrow. He pushed Ryan’s limbs in closer to his body, threw a blanket over him and crawled in next to him. When he drifted off to sleep, he was already thinking about ways to torture his sure-to-be hung-over partner the next morning.
Chapter Four of Four
When Esposito awoke the next morning, Ryan wasn’t in his bed anymore. He rubbed a hand over tired eyes and sat up. He could hear the sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen and a heavenly smell was wafting from under the door.
Shouldn’t he be in bed with a killer hangover? Esposito frowned and padded out to his kitchen to be greeted with one of the most adorable scenes he’d ever witnessed.
“Morning,” Esposito greeted, startling Ryan. The man had been concentrating on pouring batter into a frying pan with his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. He wore only boxer shorts and Esposito’s “Kiss The Cook“ apron. A streak of flour was smudged across his cheek.
I swear he looks this cute just to irritate me.
“Good morning!” Ryan greeted back way too enthusiastically for someone who had drunk the amount he did the night before.
“You’re making pancakes?”
“Yep,” Ryan winked at him and Esposito raised an eyebrow.
“Why? And how do you not have a hangover?” Esposito’s own head had a distant and expected throb to it. He moved to join Ryan behind the kitchen counter to make himself a coffee.
“I think you know what pancakes mean,” Ryan said, wielding the spatula. “And it’s the Irish blood - good for hangovers.”
Esposito ignored the last part of Ryan’s explanation as he was still stuck on the first. Pancakes are the edible way of saying “thanks so much for last night”...Does he think...?
His confusion was answered when Ryan put down the spatula and encircled his waist from behind. Esposito’s heart rate went through the roof at the touch and he had to force himself not to relax into his partner’s chest and run his hand over the arms that had wound around his stomach.
The embrace was brief as Ryan had to get back to flipping the pancakes. Esposito tried to rein his thoughts in to form a suitable question.
“Kev, do you remember what happened last night?” He asked, turning from the coffee-maker and leaning his back against the counter.
“Of course I do,” Ryan gave him a smile, but Esposito wasn’t buying it.
“Maybe you could fill me in then because my memory’s a little fuzzy,” he lied.
“We, uh, we were at Castle’s party and we were having fun and drinking those weird grape things and then we got a taxi and then, um...” Ryan faltered a little before a confident smile took over his face as he flipped the pancakes onto two plates. “And then we came back here and went to bed... together. How could I not remember my first night with you, Javi? It was wonderful.”
Esposito stared at him in disbelief. Ryan thought they’d slept together. He’d woken up in his bed and just assumed that it was due to more-than-platonic actions. And then he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t remember any of it. Unbelievable.
Ryan set the two plates of pancakes on the other side of the breakfast bar and took Esposito’s hand. He pressed his lips to the back of his knuckles before announcing “breakfast is served.”
“Ryan, I...”
What was he supposed to say? The way he saw it, he had three options: 1) Tell him the truth, that nothing happened between them, 2) Fall into the lie and let Ryan keep thinking what he wanted or 3) Torture him.
As was long-standing tradition, and just the way they did things, he picked option 3.
“I can’t believe you stood on the pool table and confessed your undying love for me, bro.”
Alarm flashed across Ryan’s face quickly before he covered.
“Ah yeah, well, you know, alcohol confidence,” he tried to smile.
“And the way you gave me that lap-dance in front of everyone; that was pretty hot man,” Esposito shovelled a mouthful of pancakes into his mouth to cover the grin that was threatening to show at the look on Ryan’s face. It was a cross between horror and amusement. He laughed awkwardly.
“I may have taken things a bit far...”
“Oh no man, I thought it was sexy when you stripped naked and handcuffed yourself to my bed covered in whipped cream.” Esposito’s poker-face was good, but it wasn’t that good. Recognition replaced the look of horror on Ryan’s face.
“Very funny,” he dead-panned. “OK, I admit it. I don’t remember a lot of what happened last night. In fact, I don’t remember anything past getting in the taxi, and then waking up with your arms around me. I’m really sorry Javi, I hate that I can’t remember our first night together. I just... I mean... I’ll make it up to you OK? There’ll be plenty of other nights that I’ll etch into my memory with permanent marker,” with his apology, Ryan had stood from his stool and placed a hand on Esposito’s thigh. Esposito’s breath hitched when Ryan lent in for a kiss, but he quickly pulled away before their lips could touch.
“Kevin, nothing happened between us last night,” he said softly, looking his partner right in the eye. He couldn’t let Ryan kiss him just because he thought he had to. He cared about his partner more than anyone knew and he wasn’t about to let a misunderstanding jeopardize what they had, or would have. “You passed out on my bed and I left you there. We didn’t...”
The look of dread was back on Ryan’s face.
“Oh God,” he groaned.
A silence followed that seemed to last forever. Eventually Ryan spoke up.
“I didn’t mean to... I just... when I woke up and you were holding me so... oh my God, bro I’m sorry,” Ryan hid his face behind his hand.
“It’s OK man, I shouldn’t have messed with your head like that. I just... wait a minute.” Something in Esposito’s head suddenly clicked. “You thought we’d slept together, and your response was to act as though it was perfectly OK? You... you’d be OK with... with us?” The realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks. Ryan hadn’t run screaming from the room. He hadn’t pretended nothing happened. He hadn’t gotten embarrassed or angry or anything. He’d made him freaking pancakes and acted like he was happy with the turn of events!
Ryan reluctantly removed his hand from his face to look at Esposito.
“I... you weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to find out like this. I was handling it fine and I wasn’t going to say or do anything to wreck our friendship, man. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I was delusional enough to think you wanted the same thing when I woke up this morning. Oh my God,” Ryan groaned the last part from behind his hand again.
Esposito couldn’t believe it. He sat there, motionless with incredulity, until the penny dropped and spurred him into action. He stood swiftly from his bar stool and grabbed Ryan’s wrist to pull his hand away from his face. When Ryan’s eyes met his, Esposito could see the fear and worry etched onto his features.
Maybe the apron had planted the idea in his subconscious, but Esposito did the only thing he could think of. He kissed him.
With one hand still gripping his wrist, the other brought Ryan’s chin up to meet his lips demands. It was hard and rough and not at all what first kisses in fairytales were made of. But it was them. Esposito’s heart was hammering loudly in his chest and when Ryan started kissing him back eagerly, with just as much force, he thought his rib cage may break with the beating.
Ryan was on his feet, one hand moving to the back of Esposito’s neck to bring them closer, the other finding his hip and tugging it forward impatiently. Bliss. The way everything clicked into place in his head, in his heart, the only clear thought in Esposito’s mind was “bliss”.
He slowed the kiss down, savouring the feel, the taste of Ryan. Placing short, soft, butterfly kisses on the other man’s lips, he found himself unable to stop completely. He smiled, and felt Ryan do the same.
He eventually did pry his lips away from Ryan long enough to say something.
“You might be delusional about of lot of things bro, but not about this.”
Ryan leaned his forehead against Esposito’s and closed his eyes.
“How are we gonna make this work?” he asked softly.
“Hey, this is us. We’ve always worked well together,” Esposito replied, grinning as Ryan opened his eyes to look at him.
Ryan smiled and kissed him again. It was way too easy to get caught up in the feel of his lips and the adrenalin that coursed through his veins at every touch from his partner, that soon Esposito found himself pushed up against the counter, his apron shed from Ryan’s body, eager fingers now tugging at his shirt.
Esposito reluctantly pulled away. “Wait,” he said.
Ryan’s face instantly changed from sated happiness to worry and confusion.
“No, no, I just... I need to send a text... before we get too carried away,” he told him, stealing another quick kiss. The man was so addictive.
“I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” Ryan tossed over his shoulder as he sauntered away. Esposito watched him go, feeling quite impressed (and incredibly turned on) at the other man’s sudden confidence. The text he sent to Beckett was very rushed.
To: Beckett
SMS: Game Over. Your turn.
He hit send and flung the phone onto the couch before practically running into his bedroom.
He hoped she’d listen. Everyone deserved to feel bliss.
The End
Esposito had been the last to leave the station that evening after they discovered someone needed to re-interview Mrs Spencer (their key witness). Beckett played the female card (which was so rare, they were all caught a little off guard), claiming it took her longer to get ready for Castle’s party than it did the rest of them.
“Unless you’re planning on curling your hair and putting on make-up,” she’d teased them. “Ryan I have a lipstick that would look great on you!”
Castle had immediately declared he had a million things to do to get ready for the party and therefore couldn’t possibly assist in the re-interviewing process. Esposito was sure he had hired people to do everything for him, but it wasn’t like Castle could interview her on his own anyway, so he accepted it.
Ryan had simply blurted “Shotgun! You’re it!” when he went to open his mouth.
And so Esposito had been stuck with the near-painful task of re-questioning Mrs Spencer. Normally, he would have just asked her the new questions and been finished within half an hour, but Mrs Spencer was an 86 year old woman who was hard on hearing... and comprehending.
“Hey I remember you! You were here with the pretty little blue-eyed boy the other day. What do you mean you have to ask me more questions? I already answered them all!”
“Yes ma’am I know, but we have some new information and I just need to check a couple more things with you.”
“Sorry?”
“I said I NEED TO CHECK SOME THINGS WITH YOU.”
“Alright, alright, no need to shout young man.”
Esposito swallowed a sigh.
“The day before you heard the gunshot, did you notice a blue van outside?”
“A blue man? No.”
“A blue VAN.”
“I said no. Are you deaf? I’m pretty sure I would have noticed a blue man outside.”
It had taken Esposito two and a quarter hours to question Mrs Spencer, only to discover their hunch was wrong and they were back to square one. By the time he’d driven back to his apartment, showered and changed and caught a cab to Castle’s place, the party was already in full swing.
“Heeeeey! Esposito!” Ryan greeted him loudly as he slid ungracefully from his stool and made his way over.
“Hey man, having fun?” Esposito smirked as Ryan wobbled in front of him.
“Yes! This party is great! But you took sooooo long to get here!”
Apparently long enough for you to get hammered, Esposito thought. And now I’m gonna have to be the one who remains sober enough to get you home.
“Yeah well I had to re-interview Mrs Spencer all by myself, didn’t I? So much for my partner backing me up, eh?”
Ryan frowned. Then hiccoughed.
“Here! Have some!” he suddenly said excitedly, thrusting the remains of his drink into his partner’s hands.
Esposito grinned. He couldn’t stay mad at Ryan for wanting to unwind. Not when it was what he had planned on doing himself. And not when Ryan’s blue eyes were sparkling at him excitedly like that.
“I’ll think I’ll go get a fresh one, bro,” he said, but needn’t have bothered as Ryan had gotten distracted by an attractive woman sauntering past with a bright purple cocktail.
“That drink is mighty bright! What is it?” he heard him ask her, as he turned to make his way to the bar.
Chapter Two of Four
Esposito slid onto the leather bar stool next to Beckett, indicating to the bartender for two beers.
Beckett looked up at him when he sat down and he noticed the slight haziness in her eyes. Then he noticed the 4 empty shot glasses in front of her. Looks like Ryan and Beckett will be drinking enough for all three of us, he thought.
When the bartender dropped two beers on the counter he slid one to Beckett wordlessly and they clinked them together.
“How’d it go with Mrs Spencer?” Beckett asked.
“No deal,” he answered, taking a swig, “but let’s not talk about work tonight.”
Beckett nodded and took a long drink from her bottle.
“Where’s Castle?” Esposito asked cautiously, sensing that her reserved mood had something to do with him. The over-grown child was usually found at the root of all of Beckett’s problems.
She waved her hand dismissively in the general direction of where Castle was talking animatedly to a group of women, before finishing the rest of her beer in one hit.
“C’mon,” Esposito said spontaneously, standing up from his stool and holding a hand out to Beckett.
She raised her eyebrow in silent question.
“Let’s dance,” he shrugged, gently taking her hand. He expected at least a little hesitation or objection, but she stood from her stool and followed him to where a few other couples were dancing in the centre of the living room.
Sleeping Satellite by Tasmin Archer was playing and Beckett rested her head on Esposito’s shoulder as they moved slowly to the music.
“Why do I do it to myself?” Beckett mumbled into his collar. He didn’t respond, waiting for her to continue.
“I’m such a masochist. Waiting around, playing the stupid game, even though I know how it ends. I lose.”
“It doesn’t matter how unlikely the chance of winning is, you have to be in the game to have that possibility at all,” he told her softly. Over her shoulder, he watched Ryan stumbling around with a bright purple cocktail in his hand, laughing at something Lanie was saying.
“I didn’t ask to play,” she said with a touch of sadness to her voice.
“No backing out now, Becks,” he told her softly, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “It’s better to be losing the game than to watch from the sidelines as someone else plays your turn.”
She removed her head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. “Getting wise in your old age Esposito?”
He let a small chuckle escape his lips as he moved his attention from Ryan, back to the woman in his arms.
“If I was really so wise, I wouldn’t have gotten myself stuck in the game either.”
She smiled as the song finished and a more up-beat tune came on.
“I think maybe we should stick to scrabble from now on,” she smirked. “Much more fun.”
“I’m not sure either game would be fun playing with Castle,” he said, returning her smirk.
She held his gaze for a moment, as if debating whether to deny Castle had anything to do with their conversation, or whether to just admit it out loud to both of them. In the end she settled on “I need another drink” and they both moved back to the bar where Castle, Ryan and Lanie were discussing how to best kill off a serial killer in Castle’s next book.
Chapter Three of Four
The rest of the night moved by quickly. There was drinking (mostly by Ryan and Beckett, but they all had a bit too much if the truth be known), dancing (mostly by Castle and Beckett who seemed to be dancing closer and closer together with every song) and laughing (mostly at Ryan’s expense). By the time the apartment had started to clear of guests, Esposito’s brain was fuzzy around the edges, his feet ached slightly from dancing and his eyes were starting to get heavy. Time to call it a night.
“Yo, Castle, thanks for a great night,” Esposito said, clapping his friend on the shoulder where he was leaning against the bar in front of Beckett. “Becks are you coming with us or...” He let the question hang in the air.
“Yeah. I should,” she nodded.
“You can stay here if you like,” Castle quickly interjected. “I mean, it’s a long cab-ride home...”
“Thanks, but I think I need my own bed tonight Castle,” Beckett told him, but hesitated on moving further away from him. Esposito picked up on their need to say goodnight privately, mumbled a “meet you outside” and started on trying to get Ryan out the door.
“But I haven’t finished dancing!” Ryan complained when Esposito told him it was time to go home. Lanie laughed.
“Enjoy your handful!” she called unhelpfully to Esposito as she grabbed her purse and headed out the door with her date.
“Just one more purple drink?” Ryan asked, giving him a hurt-puppy look.
When Esposito finally managed to get Ryan out of Castle’s apartment and into the hall, he had to sling one of Ryan’s arms over his shoulder and snake one around his waist to help him walk in a straight line. It didn’t help that his own legs were somewhat wobbly from one-too-many beers.
“I wanna push the button!” Ryan exclaimed excitedly when they finally staggered to the elevator. Ryan was the only person Esposito knew who regressed to a child when drunk. He’d think it was pathetic if he didn’t think it was so damn cute.
Esposito let Ryan push the button, which he did eventually after missing the first couple of tries, and Beckett appeared at the same time as the elevator cart. Beckett had had more to drink than either of them, but still managed to pull it together better. If it wasn’t for the slightly red eyes and the fact that she was standing at an odd angle, Esposito probably wouldn’t have figured she was drunk at all.
When they got outside, Beckett flagged down a taxi on the first try. Typical, Esposito thought, taxi drivers are so much more likely to stop for an attractive woman than two drunk men. And Beckett was looking very attractive tonight. Her shimmery black halter dress ruffled in the breeze as she held the door open for him to push Ryan inside. Maybe it was the beers interfering with his brain-to-mouth reflexes, but he decided to tell her right then.
“Beckett you look very pretty tonight.”
She looked startled, but recovered quickly with a “thank you, Esposito” as she slid in after him.
“What about me? Do I look pretty?” Ryan asked, a frown forming on his face as he looked Esposito in the eyes.
Beckett chuckled softly on his right and he ignored Ryan to give the driver Beckett’s address.
“You never say I look pretty,” Ryan grumbled, looking at his feet. Esposito sighed.
“You look very pretty tonight too Kevin.” He said. He meant it to come out sarcastic, but somehow the sentence lost its edge when it came out his mouth. Ryan beamed at him.
Esposito changed the subject. “Where are your keys, Kev? We’ll drop you off after Beckett.”
“They’re in my pocket,” Ryan said with a sly smile. “Can you reach them?”
“How about you get them out yourself?” Esposito suggested, trying to ignore Beckett’s snickering from his other side.
“Can’t. You’ll have to,” Ryan insisted, leaning back and stretching his legs out to give Esposito easier access to his pockets.
He took a deep breath to control his quickening heart-rate as he slowly searched Ryan’s pockets.
“They aren’t here man, where are your keys?” Esposito asked as he finished searching the pocket on Ryan’s far side. Ryan’s breath was hot on his ear when he whispered “woops, must have left them at Castle’s.”
The taxi pulled up outside Beckett’s apartment building with a screech.
“You be alright to walk yourself up?”
“I think I can handle it,” she smirked, getting out of the cab. Before she shut the door, she leaned in close to him. “Looks like you may win your game after all, detective.” And then she was gone before he could object.
Accepting that Ryan didn’t have his keys, Esposito gave the cabbie his address and soon they were pulling up outside his building. He paid the man, helped a very handsy Ryan into the elevator and eventually they were safely in his apartment. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now he just had to get Ryan to go to sleep before one of them did something they regretted.
It wasn’t as if Esposito didn’t want Ryan to be flirting with him shamelessly. Not like he didn’t love the way Ryan’s eyes kept sweeping over his body, or the way he kept tugging on his shirt when he was hearding him down the corridor. God it was killing him to keep pushing him away. Especially with his foggy brain only half-functioning. But Ryan was drunk and Esposito would not take advantage of his partner like that.
Ryan only ever showed him this sort of attention when he had been drinking. Sure, there were a couple of tension-filled moments every now and then when they’d accidentally brush hands at work or find themselves standing way too close to one another, but the moments were always quickly dissolved and nothing was ever spoken about them. It was only when Ryan had been drinking that he started flirting with his partner. Esposito chalked it up to the alcohol talking and he was not going to sacrifice his friendship and partnership with Ryan by responding to drunken advances.
Esposito took a pillow from the linen cupboard and tossed it onto the couch as Ryan tried to take off his shoes and shimmy out of his jacket. He started making little grunting noises at the effort, and finally Esposito gave in and helped push the jacket off his partner’s shoulders. He could feel Ryan’s gaze on him as he did so, but ignored it. He could smell the sickly-sweet smell of the cocktails on Ryan’s breath as he stood so close, but he ignored that too.
“Right. All set. See you in the morning,” Esposito told him, stepping backwards and turning towards his bedroom, leaving Ryan standing in front of the couch watching him retreat with wide blue eyes.
Esposito fetched a t-shirt from his closet and walked into his ensuite bathroom. He splashed water on his face, brushed his teeth, changed into the shirt and his boxers and studied his face in the mirror for a moment. He let out a deep breath and shook his head to rid any inappropriate thoughts he may have been having about his partner.
When he walked out of his bathroom and back into his bedroom, what he saw made him laugh quietly. Ryan was passed out on his bed, arms and legs spread across the entire surface. Well, he thought, this should make for an interesting morning tomorrow. He pushed Ryan’s limbs in closer to his body, threw a blanket over him and crawled in next to him. When he drifted off to sleep, he was already thinking about ways to torture his sure-to-be hung-over partner the next morning.
Chapter Four of Four
When Esposito awoke the next morning, Ryan wasn’t in his bed anymore. He rubbed a hand over tired eyes and sat up. He could hear the sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen and a heavenly smell was wafting from under the door.
Shouldn’t he be in bed with a killer hangover? Esposito frowned and padded out to his kitchen to be greeted with one of the most adorable scenes he’d ever witnessed.
“Morning,” Esposito greeted, startling Ryan. The man had been concentrating on pouring batter into a frying pan with his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. He wore only boxer shorts and Esposito’s “Kiss The Cook“ apron. A streak of flour was smudged across his cheek.
I swear he looks this cute just to irritate me.
“Good morning!” Ryan greeted back way too enthusiastically for someone who had drunk the amount he did the night before.
“You’re making pancakes?”
“Yep,” Ryan winked at him and Esposito raised an eyebrow.
“Why? And how do you not have a hangover?” Esposito’s own head had a distant and expected throb to it. He moved to join Ryan behind the kitchen counter to make himself a coffee.
“I think you know what pancakes mean,” Ryan said, wielding the spatula. “And it’s the Irish blood - good for hangovers.”
Esposito ignored the last part of Ryan’s explanation as he was still stuck on the first. Pancakes are the edible way of saying “thanks so much for last night”...Does he think...?
His confusion was answered when Ryan put down the spatula and encircled his waist from behind. Esposito’s heart rate went through the roof at the touch and he had to force himself not to relax into his partner’s chest and run his hand over the arms that had wound around his stomach.
The embrace was brief as Ryan had to get back to flipping the pancakes. Esposito tried to rein his thoughts in to form a suitable question.
“Kev, do you remember what happened last night?” He asked, turning from the coffee-maker and leaning his back against the counter.
“Of course I do,” Ryan gave him a smile, but Esposito wasn’t buying it.
“Maybe you could fill me in then because my memory’s a little fuzzy,” he lied.
“We, uh, we were at Castle’s party and we were having fun and drinking those weird grape things and then we got a taxi and then, um...” Ryan faltered a little before a confident smile took over his face as he flipped the pancakes onto two plates. “And then we came back here and went to bed... together. How could I not remember my first night with you, Javi? It was wonderful.”
Esposito stared at him in disbelief. Ryan thought they’d slept together. He’d woken up in his bed and just assumed that it was due to more-than-platonic actions. And then he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t remember any of it. Unbelievable.
Ryan set the two plates of pancakes on the other side of the breakfast bar and took Esposito’s hand. He pressed his lips to the back of his knuckles before announcing “breakfast is served.”
“Ryan, I...”
What was he supposed to say? The way he saw it, he had three options: 1) Tell him the truth, that nothing happened between them, 2) Fall into the lie and let Ryan keep thinking what he wanted or 3) Torture him.
As was long-standing tradition, and just the way they did things, he picked option 3.
“I can’t believe you stood on the pool table and confessed your undying love for me, bro.”
Alarm flashed across Ryan’s face quickly before he covered.
“Ah yeah, well, you know, alcohol confidence,” he tried to smile.
“And the way you gave me that lap-dance in front of everyone; that was pretty hot man,” Esposito shovelled a mouthful of pancakes into his mouth to cover the grin that was threatening to show at the look on Ryan’s face. It was a cross between horror and amusement. He laughed awkwardly.
“I may have taken things a bit far...”
“Oh no man, I thought it was sexy when you stripped naked and handcuffed yourself to my bed covered in whipped cream.” Esposito’s poker-face was good, but it wasn’t that good. Recognition replaced the look of horror on Ryan’s face.
“Very funny,” he dead-panned. “OK, I admit it. I don’t remember a lot of what happened last night. In fact, I don’t remember anything past getting in the taxi, and then waking up with your arms around me. I’m really sorry Javi, I hate that I can’t remember our first night together. I just... I mean... I’ll make it up to you OK? There’ll be plenty of other nights that I’ll etch into my memory with permanent marker,” with his apology, Ryan had stood from his stool and placed a hand on Esposito’s thigh. Esposito’s breath hitched when Ryan lent in for a kiss, but he quickly pulled away before their lips could touch.
“Kevin, nothing happened between us last night,” he said softly, looking his partner right in the eye. He couldn’t let Ryan kiss him just because he thought he had to. He cared about his partner more than anyone knew and he wasn’t about to let a misunderstanding jeopardize what they had, or would have. “You passed out on my bed and I left you there. We didn’t...”
The look of dread was back on Ryan’s face.
“Oh God,” he groaned.
A silence followed that seemed to last forever. Eventually Ryan spoke up.
“I didn’t mean to... I just... when I woke up and you were holding me so... oh my God, bro I’m sorry,” Ryan hid his face behind his hand.
“It’s OK man, I shouldn’t have messed with your head like that. I just... wait a minute.” Something in Esposito’s head suddenly clicked. “You thought we’d slept together, and your response was to act as though it was perfectly OK? You... you’d be OK with... with us?” The realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks. Ryan hadn’t run screaming from the room. He hadn’t pretended nothing happened. He hadn’t gotten embarrassed or angry or anything. He’d made him freaking pancakes and acted like he was happy with the turn of events!
Ryan reluctantly removed his hand from his face to look at Esposito.
“I... you weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to find out like this. I was handling it fine and I wasn’t going to say or do anything to wreck our friendship, man. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I was delusional enough to think you wanted the same thing when I woke up this morning. Oh my God,” Ryan groaned the last part from behind his hand again.
Esposito couldn’t believe it. He sat there, motionless with incredulity, until the penny dropped and spurred him into action. He stood swiftly from his bar stool and grabbed Ryan’s wrist to pull his hand away from his face. When Ryan’s eyes met his, Esposito could see the fear and worry etched onto his features.
Maybe the apron had planted the idea in his subconscious, but Esposito did the only thing he could think of. He kissed him.
With one hand still gripping his wrist, the other brought Ryan’s chin up to meet his lips demands. It was hard and rough and not at all what first kisses in fairytales were made of. But it was them. Esposito’s heart was hammering loudly in his chest and when Ryan started kissing him back eagerly, with just as much force, he thought his rib cage may break with the beating.
Ryan was on his feet, one hand moving to the back of Esposito’s neck to bring them closer, the other finding his hip and tugging it forward impatiently. Bliss. The way everything clicked into place in his head, in his heart, the only clear thought in Esposito’s mind was “bliss”.
He slowed the kiss down, savouring the feel, the taste of Ryan. Placing short, soft, butterfly kisses on the other man’s lips, he found himself unable to stop completely. He smiled, and felt Ryan do the same.
He eventually did pry his lips away from Ryan long enough to say something.
“You might be delusional about of lot of things bro, but not about this.”
Ryan leaned his forehead against Esposito’s and closed his eyes.
“How are we gonna make this work?” he asked softly.
“Hey, this is us. We’ve always worked well together,” Esposito replied, grinning as Ryan opened his eyes to look at him.
Ryan smiled and kissed him again. It was way too easy to get caught up in the feel of his lips and the adrenalin that coursed through his veins at every touch from his partner, that soon Esposito found himself pushed up against the counter, his apron shed from Ryan’s body, eager fingers now tugging at his shirt.
Esposito reluctantly pulled away. “Wait,” he said.
Ryan’s face instantly changed from sated happiness to worry and confusion.
“No, no, I just... I need to send a text... before we get too carried away,” he told him, stealing another quick kiss. The man was so addictive.
“I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” Ryan tossed over his shoulder as he sauntered away. Esposito watched him go, feeling quite impressed (and incredibly turned on) at the other man’s sudden confidence. The text he sent to Beckett was very rushed.
To: Beckett
SMS: Game Over. Your turn.
He hit send and flung the phone onto the couch before practically running into his bedroom.
He hoped she’d listen. Everyone deserved to feel bliss.
The End