Pillow Talk

Caskett, post-7x06

Sunlight kisses the walls, slinking over furniture and across the floor, dancing over puddles of forgotten clothing to reach the quiet pair in the center of the room. Their night had been long, slow and sweet, and after the frenzy of pulling the wedding together on such short notice, it had seemed a pity to waste the stars and the moon with something as mundane as sleep. Instead, they were up far too late, dancing, talking, making love until their energy waned.

Castle stretches first, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes before turning to his companion – his wife. The silky white camisole hides most of her back, but her warmth beckons him through the fabric, inviting him even closer, inviting him to slip his knee between hers. A long line of sun sweeps across their bare shoulders.

Kate hums in contentment, belying her ineffectual swats at him for manhandling her out of her slumber.

"Morning, Mrs. Castle," he rumbles, rubbing his nose along the gentle line of her jaw. The title's only about fifteen hours old, but it springs from his tongue as easily as her name always has.

Her fingers curl around the back of his neck, squeezing gently. With that gesture, he knows he's forgiven for waking her.

"Morning, Mr. Castle," she drawls, her words honeyed with sleep. She mewls around a yawn, rubbing her eyes carefully. "Wouldn't mind delaying morning a little longer, though."

His lips curl. "Could be arranged," he agrees, slipping a hand under her top to caress her belly. "How do you propose doing that?"

Beckett vibrates under his mouth, deliciously tense in his arms already.

"I think," she starts, pushing her hips against his, stealing his breath. His pajama pants may be loose, but there's no mistaking what she does to him with even the barest of touches. "You should brace yourself, babe."

The pillow clobbers his face before he even knows what hit him.

Castle sputters. She – "You –"

His bride cackles, rolling away from him onto her knees, clasping the pillow she hit him with against her chest. Her hair's piled on her head, falling out of the messy half bun to frame her face. Joy lights her eyes, pulls at her lips.

God, she's beautiful.

"You wanted to play, Castle," she singsongs, shifting closer to pull a kiss from his lips. "Let's pla-AY!"

His pillow hits its mark, sending her toppling back to her side of the bed.

"You're on, Beckett."

Her protest is lost in a fit of giggles, including more than a few that come from him, but she doesn't waste any time staying down. Their pillows connect in the space between them, ricocheting wildly before hitting again.

Beckett laughs again, ducking away from his swinging pillow only to land a solid hit against his chest with her own. His exaggerated exhale just makes her glee spill from her lips even harder.

"Regretting this yet?" she teases, bouncing closer to his feet for better leverage on her next swing, but he manages a good swat to her hip in the process.

"Never. You're looking at a pillow fight master. Got you good just now."

His wife hahs, swinging her pillow again. "Lucky hit. You're too busy staring at me to aim."

Probably true. He's simply captivated by her. By the lines of her body, the glow of her skin against the white satin, the warmth of her smile. He can't help but be entranced.

"Not true," he argues anyway, slinging his weapon haphazardly, knocking into her shoulder with less oomph than he would've liked. "You're going down."

She whacks him again, her swing wild enough to fling her off balance. It gives him an opening to lunge, to catch her with his pillow as she lets her mirth overwhelm her.

It happens exactly the way she wants. He's so preoccupied with watching the joy on her face that he forgets to steer clear of her legs – those long, gorgeous legs – and he lands on his back in an instant, losing his grip on his pillow. It's ineffectual as a weapon now, only useful as a shield for fending off her offensive.

"Gotcha, Castle."

"Never."

"Uh huh," she clips, walloping him again, and again, knocking his pillow shield out of his grip a little bit more with each squishy blow. Damn, she does have him. "Surrender."

"Make me," he pants between laughs. "Make me, Beckett."

Her eyes light up once more, the plan clearly taking shape in her mind.

"My pleasure."

His defense is gone a moment later, the pillow knocked out of all but two of his fingers. She lifts onto her knees, arms raised over her head, ready to deliver the final hit.

And then the pillow drops, landing on his feet harmlessly as she straddles him, lowering her weight against his hips. Her hands cradle his jaw, mouth sliding hotly against his.

"I win," she adds, lifting smoldering eyes to his.

Castle nips at her lip, slipping his tongue along the mark he's made as his hands slip under her camisole, ready to send it flying across their bedroom.

"Oh no, I definitely won."

Best first morning of marriage ever.

A long time ago iwantobemorethanwhoiam prompted me to write something for this picture ( bunysliper dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 116294459926 slash to-reblog-just-the-pic-reblog-from-the-original ). I've had it waiting for just the right idea, and I finally had it. Sorry to keep you waiting!

I'd just like to take a moment to thank everyone for making the last year of writing fantastic for me. I've had so much fun writing these characters, exploring their faults and their flaws, and enjoying their love. Thank you all for reading.

And happy Castle Fanfic Monday!