Castle Kink Meme- Fill
Paring: Castle/Beckett
Kink/Prompt/Scenario: masturbation (Beckett walks in on Castle and watches)
Rating: NC-17
With a satisfying stab of the keyboard, Castle allows himself one, wallowing, self-pitying groan. Long day, he gruffs to no one in particular, alone in the semi-darkness of his office. Night fell a while ago, somewhere between chapters 14 and 15, after he had spent hours rewriting the foundation of the case Nikki and Rook were currently struggling with. He had woken that morning to a threatening text from Gina about the consequences of missing one more goddamn deadline, her words, so he slouched himself over to his desk, pouting and whining in a way that Beckett would have never tolerated.
As he pulled up the all-but-forgotten document on his laptop, however, he discovered something quite alarming. His writing, as of recently, it seemed, had completely lost all sense of suspense and action and drama and most of the other reasons he was a best-selling author; in fact, when he sat down to examine the first 10 measly pages, he found himself wading through sap so bad it didn't even belong in a romance novel. The day hadn't been a total wash, though; after placing himself on temporary house arrest, locking himself out of the internet, and otherwise freeing himself from distractions, he had managed to push himself to a chapter beyond where he needed to be. It was actually easier than he expected, especially considering his own personal distraction wasn't due back in town until tomorrow night.
Running a hand through his hair to scratch at the back of his scalp, he finally pushes himself out of his chair to pad quietly towards his bedroom. His plans to just collapse on the bed and stay there are detoured when he lifts the cotton t-shirt he has been wearing all day to his nose and smells. Shower it is, then. He lazily pulls the drawstring of the flannel pajama bottoms he has been wearing all day as meanders to the bathroom, letting his pants and boxers drop to the floor as he flips on the water in the shower. He is greeted with a hot rush of steam against his face, and, taking a calming deep breath, shrugs off his shirt and steps in.
He allows himself to just stand in the heat for several minutes, relishing the feeling of being ahead of a deadline for once, and letting the pounding hot water at his back remove the last tensions of the day. He finds his mind drifting, first to what he has planned next for Nikki and Rook, then to the triumphant text he is going to send Gina to gloat a little about how far he's gotten. Finally, his thoughts come to rest where they usually do, and a stab of loneliness hits him unexpectedly. It's ironic, he thinks, that these days it is easier to write when his muse isn't around.
Because when she is around, they certainly find better things to do.
His thoughts uncontrollably spin towards exactly what things they do, and his brain stumbles towards arousal. The way she woke him up the morning of her flight and climbed on top of him, the way she throws her head back when she comes, and especially the way he walked in the door and found himself immediately pushed back against it as she dropped to her knees in front of him.
He feels his body reacting to that particular memory and sighs. Sure, he misses all the hot (really, unbelievably hot) sex when she's away, but it's more than that. It's that his coffee maker makes the perfect two servings for their oversized mugs. It's that there isn't the thrill of a phone ringing at 3 a.m., announcing another early morning murder scene. More than that, he distinctly feels the lack of his partner, who would have rolled her eyes at his pouting today, challenged his loud berating of everyone at Black Pawn, and then whispered enticingly that she wanted him to finish writing already so she could have those large hands back to herself.
Yeah. He has it bad.
His body is now straining to show exactly how bad he has it, and he pulls himself out of his own head and to the situation at hand. He needs to deal with that. Turning around to face the stream of water, he braces himself on the wall of the shower with one hand and grasps himself in the other. He begins to pump his hand slowly up and down.
The tension immediately coils in the bottom of his spine as he groans a little at the feeling. The water and the steam are curling his recollection back to the many stolen moments in the shower before leaving for crime scenes, Beckett pulling him in forcefully, the way she wraps her legs around his waist so that every inch of their slippery skin is pressed together, the rivulets of water running down her hair, her back, her breasts... water that he follows with his mouth and sucks clean as he slides in and out of her, slowly, torturously. The steam and pounding water from the shower mixed with her own, wet heat. He groans again, louder this time, his hand speeding up.
"...Castle?"
He gasps and starts so badly he almost slips as he whips around to peer through the foggy glass of the shower door.
And there she stands, the Beckett of his fantasy, very much real and solid and completely staring at the outline of his erection that she can surely see from the other side of the glass.
"Beckett," he exclaims rather breathlessly, "You're back early." Her eyes are still flicking between his face and his obvious arousal, and it is clear that he knows exactly what he was doing seconds before she burst into the bathroom. Or maybe she has been standing there for longer. The thought makes his throat constrict.
There are two ways that this could go, he thinks to himself in a slight panic. Option 1, she'll leave and we'll pretend this never happened, or Option 2, she's totally weirded out and it's going to be awkward for a while. He's almost leaning toward the instinct to apologize when she speaks again.
"Were you thinking of me?" she whispers in a low tone.
"Wh-what?" he stutters. She could not have said what he thought she just said. She could not.
"I asked," she repeated, her voice even lower, taking a few slow steps toward the shower, "if you were thinking of me."
Her eyes flick down to his waist again. She looks at him under lowered lashes, and if he didn't know any better he would say she was...
Oh. Option 3.
His eyes widen and his breath hitches. "Yes," he whispers to her through the glass, his low and rumbling voice matching hers. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too," she says with a hint of an innocent smile.
They allow themselves to just look at each other for a moment, before Beckett reaches for the first button of her shirt. "Would it help if I...?" she trailed off, popping the first, then the second button of her shirt.
His brain honestly doesn't know how to comprehend this change of events, and it must show on his face, because she gives him a sultry smile and says, "Don't let me stand in your way." She gestures vaguely to his hand, which has found its way to press on the glass.
He gasps again, can't believe that this is happening, but nods, a rapid up and down motion that must look ridiculous as his hand begins to trail back down his body. He takes himself in hand again as she peels off first her shirt and her pants, before popping the clasp of her bra and letting it slide down her arms, meeting his gaze intensely. She then bends over obscenely to pull her underwear over her ass and down her legs, giving him a spectacular momentary view. It almost seemed like she was- like she was enjoying this. His hand speeds up and his breathing becomes more and more shallow as he looks at her, standing there, brazen and completely bare for him.
His eyes almost pop out of his head when she steps into the shower with him. His hand stops as he moves to reach for her, but she shakes her head fervently and backs away from him.
"I want to watch," she murmurs, leaning into him without touching, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "I want to watch you come for me. Thinking about me."
He shivers despite the heat as she runs one fingernail down the underside of his erection, but does no more to help him. She leans back against the wall of the shower, her body magnificently on display, and waits.
He meets her eyes nervously and sees the intensity there, and the desire too, before he nods slightly and lets his gaze slip down to her breasts, heaving as she breathes, down her stomach to her hips and center, her legs, long and lean. He strokes himself again and again, his eyes roaming her body hungrily, occasionally looking back up to meet her gaze, sees her eyes darkening in her own arousal. She stares directly at his hand as it plays on his own body, fascinated. It makes him move even faster, knowing that she is turned on watching him, until his hips start moving to meet his own hand, until his rhythm falters as he stumbles toward completion...
"Turn around." He rasps the order and she startles. He sees her eyes widen in surprise at the order, but she complies, turning to face the wall and placing both hands on it as she bends over. Her ass is raised as she bends further and widens her legs, her breath coming in panting gasps. To his amazement, she begins to moan his name lewdly, softly at first, the louder and louder until he can take no more as he comes, spurting warm liquid all over her back.
Slowly, as he comes down from his high, he registers her turn around to face him, a somewhat shy grin on her face. He grabs for her blindly and wraps his arms around her, holding her tight as he moves them both around into the spray of the shower. She nuzzles into his shoulder before raising her head to look at him, and he kisses her once, soft and sweet.
"Not exactly the welcome home I had envisioned for you," he says against her lips.
"Oh yeah?" she whispers back, kissing him again. "Show me what you had in mind."
End.
A/N: I hope this doesn't completely suck, as I've never written porn before! *blush* Cheers!