there should be stars (20/X)
Title: there should be stars (20/X)
Characters/Pairings: Castle/Beckett
Summary: Four years can make a world of difference. AU.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to Season Four finale.
She’s wearing just a t-shirt as she makes breakfast the next morning. It hangs down to the middle of her thighs, slipping off of one shoulder and baring a red bite mark that he left as payback during round two as she slides the bacon from the frying pan and onto a sunshiny yellow ceramic plate. Another plate, bright Mediterranean blue, has scrambled eggs and there is bread in the toaster. Coffee is dripping into the pot, two mugs set out next to it.
Before the toast can pop up, she walks back into her bedroom. He’s sprawled out on her bed, feet hanging off the side as he lays diagonally, the sheets twisted around his waist. It’s adorable, his hair as mussed as hers, mouth open in sleep so that he makes little snoring noises every few breaths.
Sometimes she’s so glad they re-found each other that her heart wants to leap out of her chest and her head spins and her hands tremble and she’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry hysterically.
Instead, she braces one of those shaking hands on the mattress and smoothes her lips over his cheekbone. “Hey, Castle?” she murmurs.
His eyes flutter open, still hazy in the low morning light. He hums, wiggling his head further into the pillows, fighting off alertness. Neither of them are really morning people.
“Made you breakfast,” she adds with a soft smile.
He reaches up, threading his fingers through her tangled hair, and tugging her down on top of him with a whoosh of air. His lips are gentle under hers, sleepily slow. “Bring it in here,” he says.
“Nope,” Beckett sighs, pushing away from him when she hears the toaster. “Gotta work for it.”
“Thought I did that last night.”
She tosses a glare back in his direction as she heads back to the kitchen. “You certainly did. Still gonna have to get up to eat.”
He makes his way out to the kitchen in a few minutes, scratching a hand through his hair but looking a little more awake. “Is there coffee?” he mumbles even as she pushes the mug into his free hand.
“Who do you think I am, Castle?” she asks with a teasing smile, sipping at her own cup. “Is there coffee?” she scoffs, stepping away to pick up one of her plates to take some of the scrambled eggs.
They eat in the kitchen. She’s up on the counter, feet hitting at the cupboards below as she smears the strawberry jam on her toast. He’s next to her, his fingertips swirling over her bare knee as he eats the majority of the bacon.
She leans over, touching her lips to his hairline, nipping at his ear. “We need to get to the precinct. Gotta find Damon.”
“You might want to put on pants for that search,” he says with a grin.
Beckett shoves his shoulder. “At least I have a shirt on. You’ve got your boxers. Also need a shower. You want to help with that before getting dressed?” she asks, reaching around him to drop her plate into the sink, fork clattering.
He follows before he turns, sliding his hands under her thighs to lift her up against him, her legs coming around his waist automatically. “I can definitely help you with that,” he says, walking back toward the bathroom, setting her on the porcelain counter. She hisses, arching forward. “Impatient?”
“No, just cold.”
“Can help with that too.” Castle is turning the shower on, checking the temperature before tugging her t-shirt off. His thumbs brush over her nipples, swallowing her quiet gasp.
Her hands push at the waistband of his boxers, grinning when she sees the reddening bite mark near his navel. “Multitask,” she says, wrapping her fingers around him lightly. “Shower and sex.”
He steps into the cast-iron tub before her. As soon as she pulls the curtain around the rim, she hooks her foot around his calf, giving a little jump to help him lift her up again.
Her shower is completely inconvenient for sex. Her legs start to slip from around his waist so he sits her on the windowsill, uses it to get a better grip on her thighs before she can twist her hand down between them and guide him into her.
It’s a slick slide thanks to the water and her own arousal as they let gravity pull her body down over his. Her hair is a wet curtain on either side of their faces as she sets her forehead to his, her lips touching down on his in a quick, teasing kiss.
She tightens her legs around his waist, her ankles locked around to the small of his back, pressing her cheek to the rough stubble of his. “You feel so good,” she murmurs into the steam curling around them.
He groans, thrusting up into her even as he bites at her lower lip. His hands spread wide against her ass as she clenches around him, doing what she can to push both of them closer to the edge. She frames his face, her fingertips twisting into the strands of his hair plastered to his temple, tipping his face up.
“Let go.”
“You’re -” he starts.
But she cuts him off with a final, hot kiss, her tongue sweeping along his mouth. “Right behind you.”
His climax pushes her over seconds later. He holds one hand against the small of her back, his thrusts slowing to work her through the shuddering end of her orgasm as his other hand coasts up her back to tangle in with her hair, tugging at them to turn her head to his for a kiss. When she unhooks her feet from his waist and slides to the ground, he catches her elbows as her knees buckle a little.
“Warmed up?” he asks, voice rough enough to shoot desire right back to her stomach.
Beckett sidles around him, grabbing her shampoo from the ledge, shoving the bottle of his that has migrated to her collection against his chest. “Definitely helped,” she says, brushing a kiss along his jaw. “Get cleaned up so we can go find Damon.”
She washes her hair quickly, wringing the soap and water out before wrapping one of the towels around her torso as she steps out. He takes another few minutes, long enough for her to dry off when he comes out of the bathroom. She’s got her underwear on, working on hooking together the back of her bra as his fingertips skim over her stomach when he walks by.
“We’re not doing it again,” she mutters, batting at his hand when his fingers dip below the elastic waistband of her underwear. “I’ve got work. You can stay here and fantasize if you want.” He groans as she wiggles into the pair of black dress pants. Her eyes narrow, pulling down a light grey sweater from her closet. “Come on, Castle. Finish the case before your party tonight and there might be a reward for your efforts,” she says, adjusting the hem of the sweater.
It gets him moving and by the time she’s back from blowdrying her hair, he’s dressed, lacing up his shoes from the edge of the bed. “We’re going to get coffee first,” he informs her, holding out her leather jacket.
“Now who’s impatient?” she teases, letting him help her into the jacket, adding a deep red scarf against the cool October weather.
When she turns around, he pulls her close by the fringed ends of the scarf. “I love you, Beckett,” he whispers into her cheek.
Her fingers curl around the lapels of his suit jacket so that she can keep his body against hers when he starts to step back. Her lips burn against his. “I love you too,” she says, her voice soft as it washes over his face.
He chases her mouth for a series of quick, barely-there kisses that have her smiling before she pulls away. “Let’s go fight crime,” he says, linking his hand with hers.
She makes good on her promise. After showing up to the Halloween party in her street clothes, straight from finishing up the paperwork he skipped out on to kick off the soiree, and putting him in a mood for the rest of the evening that has him avoiding her completely, casting disappointed glances at her every few minutes, she finally works her way to his side. Her fingers snag the side of his long coat, tugging him close when he tries to edge away again.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes to clear this place out,” she whispers into his ear. “Then you come and find me.”
He gapes at her, mouth opening and closing as she presses a quick kiss to his cheek before turning back toward the bedroom.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, he shuts the bedroom door behind him.
She’s not wearing her dress pants and sweater anymore. Instead, she’s in what barely passes as scraps of red fabric, the lacy black overlay just brushing the tops of her thighs. A witch’s hat is perched on hair that has been tousled, falling into her eyes.
“Sexy enough for you?”
The hat tips off her head when he loops his arm around her waist, her hips bumping into his roughly. His lips, though, are gentle as they touch down on hers. She can feel his smile. He backs her against the bed, laying her down but keeping her at the edge as he kneels in front of her. “God, Beckett, you are so amazing,” he sighs into her inner thigh. “I love you.”
She reaches down, tangling her hand in his hair so that she can angle his head up. “Yeah? Prove it.”
And he does.
Characters/Pairings: Castle/Beckett
Summary: Four years can make a world of difference. AU.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to Season Four finale.
She’s wearing just a t-shirt as she makes breakfast the next morning. It hangs down to the middle of her thighs, slipping off of one shoulder and baring a red bite mark that he left as payback during round two as she slides the bacon from the frying pan and onto a sunshiny yellow ceramic plate. Another plate, bright Mediterranean blue, has scrambled eggs and there is bread in the toaster. Coffee is dripping into the pot, two mugs set out next to it.
Before the toast can pop up, she walks back into her bedroom. He’s sprawled out on her bed, feet hanging off the side as he lays diagonally, the sheets twisted around his waist. It’s adorable, his hair as mussed as hers, mouth open in sleep so that he makes little snoring noises every few breaths.
Sometimes she’s so glad they re-found each other that her heart wants to leap out of her chest and her head spins and her hands tremble and she’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry hysterically.
Instead, she braces one of those shaking hands on the mattress and smoothes her lips over his cheekbone. “Hey, Castle?” she murmurs.
His eyes flutter open, still hazy in the low morning light. He hums, wiggling his head further into the pillows, fighting off alertness. Neither of them are really morning people.
“Made you breakfast,” she adds with a soft smile.
He reaches up, threading his fingers through her tangled hair, and tugging her down on top of him with a whoosh of air. His lips are gentle under hers, sleepily slow. “Bring it in here,” he says.
“Nope,” Beckett sighs, pushing away from him when she hears the toaster. “Gotta work for it.”
“Thought I did that last night.”
She tosses a glare back in his direction as she heads back to the kitchen. “You certainly did. Still gonna have to get up to eat.”
He makes his way out to the kitchen in a few minutes, scratching a hand through his hair but looking a little more awake. “Is there coffee?” he mumbles even as she pushes the mug into his free hand.
“Who do you think I am, Castle?” she asks with a teasing smile, sipping at her own cup. “Is there coffee?” she scoffs, stepping away to pick up one of her plates to take some of the scrambled eggs.
They eat in the kitchen. She’s up on the counter, feet hitting at the cupboards below as she smears the strawberry jam on her toast. He’s next to her, his fingertips swirling over her bare knee as he eats the majority of the bacon.
She leans over, touching her lips to his hairline, nipping at his ear. “We need to get to the precinct. Gotta find Damon.”
“You might want to put on pants for that search,” he says with a grin.
Beckett shoves his shoulder. “At least I have a shirt on. You’ve got your boxers. Also need a shower. You want to help with that before getting dressed?” she asks, reaching around him to drop her plate into the sink, fork clattering.
He follows before he turns, sliding his hands under her thighs to lift her up against him, her legs coming around his waist automatically. “I can definitely help you with that,” he says, walking back toward the bathroom, setting her on the porcelain counter. She hisses, arching forward. “Impatient?”
“No, just cold.”
“Can help with that too.” Castle is turning the shower on, checking the temperature before tugging her t-shirt off. His thumbs brush over her nipples, swallowing her quiet gasp.
Her hands push at the waistband of his boxers, grinning when she sees the reddening bite mark near his navel. “Multitask,” she says, wrapping her fingers around him lightly. “Shower and sex.”
He steps into the cast-iron tub before her. As soon as she pulls the curtain around the rim, she hooks her foot around his calf, giving a little jump to help him lift her up again.
Her shower is completely inconvenient for sex. Her legs start to slip from around his waist so he sits her on the windowsill, uses it to get a better grip on her thighs before she can twist her hand down between them and guide him into her.
It’s a slick slide thanks to the water and her own arousal as they let gravity pull her body down over his. Her hair is a wet curtain on either side of their faces as she sets her forehead to his, her lips touching down on his in a quick, teasing kiss.
She tightens her legs around his waist, her ankles locked around to the small of his back, pressing her cheek to the rough stubble of his. “You feel so good,” she murmurs into the steam curling around them.
He groans, thrusting up into her even as he bites at her lower lip. His hands spread wide against her ass as she clenches around him, doing what she can to push both of them closer to the edge. She frames his face, her fingertips twisting into the strands of his hair plastered to his temple, tipping his face up.
“Let go.”
“You’re -” he starts.
But she cuts him off with a final, hot kiss, her tongue sweeping along his mouth. “Right behind you.”
His climax pushes her over seconds later. He holds one hand against the small of her back, his thrusts slowing to work her through the shuddering end of her orgasm as his other hand coasts up her back to tangle in with her hair, tugging at them to turn her head to his for a kiss. When she unhooks her feet from his waist and slides to the ground, he catches her elbows as her knees buckle a little.
“Warmed up?” he asks, voice rough enough to shoot desire right back to her stomach.
Beckett sidles around him, grabbing her shampoo from the ledge, shoving the bottle of his that has migrated to her collection against his chest. “Definitely helped,” she says, brushing a kiss along his jaw. “Get cleaned up so we can go find Damon.”
She washes her hair quickly, wringing the soap and water out before wrapping one of the towels around her torso as she steps out. He takes another few minutes, long enough for her to dry off when he comes out of the bathroom. She’s got her underwear on, working on hooking together the back of her bra as his fingertips skim over her stomach when he walks by.
“We’re not doing it again,” she mutters, batting at his hand when his fingers dip below the elastic waistband of her underwear. “I’ve got work. You can stay here and fantasize if you want.” He groans as she wiggles into the pair of black dress pants. Her eyes narrow, pulling down a light grey sweater from her closet. “Come on, Castle. Finish the case before your party tonight and there might be a reward for your efforts,” she says, adjusting the hem of the sweater.
It gets him moving and by the time she’s back from blowdrying her hair, he’s dressed, lacing up his shoes from the edge of the bed. “We’re going to get coffee first,” he informs her, holding out her leather jacket.
“Now who’s impatient?” she teases, letting him help her into the jacket, adding a deep red scarf against the cool October weather.
When she turns around, he pulls her close by the fringed ends of the scarf. “I love you, Beckett,” he whispers into her cheek.
Her fingers curl around the lapels of his suit jacket so that she can keep his body against hers when he starts to step back. Her lips burn against his. “I love you too,” she says, her voice soft as it washes over his face.
He chases her mouth for a series of quick, barely-there kisses that have her smiling before she pulls away. “Let’s go fight crime,” he says, linking his hand with hers.
She makes good on her promise. After showing up to the Halloween party in her street clothes, straight from finishing up the paperwork he skipped out on to kick off the soiree, and putting him in a mood for the rest of the evening that has him avoiding her completely, casting disappointed glances at her every few minutes, she finally works her way to his side. Her fingers snag the side of his long coat, tugging him close when he tries to edge away again.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes to clear this place out,” she whispers into his ear. “Then you come and find me.”
He gapes at her, mouth opening and closing as she presses a quick kiss to his cheek before turning back toward the bedroom.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, he shuts the bedroom door behind him.
She’s not wearing her dress pants and sweater anymore. Instead, she’s in what barely passes as scraps of red fabric, the lacy black overlay just brushing the tops of her thighs. A witch’s hat is perched on hair that has been tousled, falling into her eyes.
“Sexy enough for you?”
The hat tips off her head when he loops his arm around her waist, her hips bumping into his roughly. His lips, though, are gentle as they touch down on hers. She can feel his smile. He backs her against the bed, laying her down but keeping her at the edge as he kneels in front of her. “God, Beckett, you are so amazing,” he sighs into her inner thigh. “I love you.”
She reaches down, tangling her hand in his hair so that she can angle his head up. “Yeah? Prove it.”
And he does.