Not All the Songs

Scream

"I don't think going with hip-hop lyrics written by Usher is exactly the way to romance anyone, Castle."

He winces again and flops back in bed, staring up at her ceiling. "It was supposed to be funny."

"It just sounds arrogant and a little bit misogynistic."

"Arg. That sucks. Cock-blocked by Usher. Who knew?"

She chuckles at that, which is a relief really, because the look on her face when he actually did whisper in her ear that he wanted to take off all her clothes and-

Uh, yeah. Not happy.

"Somehow Usher doesn't strike me as the best tool to seal the deal," she murmurs, but she nudges her knee into his thigh and lies on her side looking at him.

He turns his head to study her. She seems okay, smirking at him in the back of her eyes even as she exudes a dangerous (and alluring) hands off.

"I ruined the mood," he states.

"You did."

"You think we can get it back?"

A slim eyebrow. "Not so much."

"Damn."

She reaches out and pats his bicep with a hand, fingers curling almost thoughtlessly. Let it be thoughtless, please, because he's severely uncomfortable here and if she's doing it on purpose, it is just too cruel. Soft fingers on his skin, stroking-

"I - uh - gonna take a shower," he mutters, moving to swing his legs out of her bed.

She squeezes his arm but lets him go.

He sighs and heads for her bathroom.

He's attempting to take it like a man, really he is, standing in the bone-crackingly cold water, gritting his teeth, but it's really not working.

The problem is - he still thinks it's funny. And the words aren't sexy, no, okay, he'll admit that. But she is. And he's in her apartment, sleeping at her side for most nights since his daughter is at college, and-

Okay, well there. Daughter. Alexis.

He gives a sigh of relief and shuts off the water, shakes his hair, scrapes his hand through it as he pushes open the shower door.

A bright purple towel is resting on the lid of the toilet for him; she must have come in and placed it here, taken care of him. At least that's one need she's-

Whoa, okay. Back off.

What did he think? That Beckett wouldn't be prickly just because they're having sex? Right. She requires a subtle approach, a deft touch; he knows that.

Or an outright assault. Yeah, that's fun too. Mm...

As she said, Usher lyrics aren't the best idea. Strike out, that's what it was. Honestly, hip-hop songs are so catchy that he barely pays attention to the words. Really. He just enjoys the beat, finds himself singing along.

Okay, so maybe telling Kate that the way her body sprawls next to him reminds him of an Usher song, and then repeating the lyrics that are - by far- some of the most ridiculous and also degrading. . .

Not smart.

Long day today. Hard case. Still unsolved, and Kate brought him home with her when he really expected her to want to crawl into a dark, secluded spot and leave him to his own devices. So she had expectations for tonight, definitely, and he only made it all the more frustrating, and maybe she just wanted him to shut up and make love to her like he usually does, slowly and with great relish.

Oh, yeah, he's frustrated - but she is too.

He'd like to make it up to her, but she's probably right. Go to bed, hold each other, try again tomorrow.

She is a morning person.

He keeps talking. He just doesn't shut up.

"Castle," she moans, not sure if it's the talking or the vibrations of his words against her or just what he's doing right there, oh yes-

"I mean," he pauses, thumbs sweeping at her thighs. "Really. It's not fair."

She arches under him, breathless with it, grateful in some secret place that he didn't let this go, that he came back from his shower determined to get to her-

"You said yourself that all the songs make sense," he continues, like he's having a conversation.

She opens her eyes wide, tries to breathe past the things he's doing to her.

"Well now we know that's not true."

His fingers slide to help and she makes a noise she doesn't even know - can't even stop - mewling or keening or sobbing for him to just-

"Not all the songs make sense. Even if you are in love. Some songs are just stupid."

He finishes it, and her body bows, her hands clutching him, her pleasure fast and tight and hard and surprising-

"Oh wait. Never mind. I actually did make you scream. Point for Usher."

She pants, lying back, presses her hand to her forehead.

She is so wiping that smirk off his face.

Next time. For now-