"Why are we here again?"

"My car is dirty."

"Castle, your car was pristine when we drove it out of the garage earlier today. How can it be so dirty already that it needs a cleaning?"

"We were out on the highway."

Kate waits expectantly, certain there will be more to his reasoning than that, but no. Out on the highway is all the explanation he offers up for their unwelcome detour into the busy car wash.

"And?" she asks incredulously.

"Aaaand now there's a layer of dirt on my car that interferes with its aerodynamics. You don't want me to have an aerodynamically-challenged Ferrari, do you, Beckett?"

She rolls her eyes, hard.

Because she really doesn't give a shit about his Ferrari. Not at all. Not one bit. She doesn't care about aerodynamics, or about the nanometer-thick coating of dust on his car, or about much of anything at this moment, actually. No, the only thing occupying her brain at this exact second is the fact that she's out-of-her-mind, about-to-explode horny. They just really need to go home so they can have sex, now. Maybe several times, just to be sure.

"It'll only take a few minutes, Beckett. We don't even get out of the car at this place, it's just one of those hands-free, exterior-wash-only deals." He's on his phone scrolling through Twitter, not a care in the world, while the car idles and they wait their turn. She shifts and squeezes her thighs together before the urge to straddle and ride him in the driver's seat can take hold of her. "We'll be in and out in ten minutes, tops." Ugh. In and out. Asshole.

Yeah, but he's YOUR asshole, and you want him anyway, sing-songs the annoyingly honest little voice in her head, the one that took up residence about a month into their partnership and lives there to this day.

Oh hell, why bother denying it anymore? She does want him. And now that she's had him, she just wants more and more with each passing day. She's mildly embarrassed by how needy she feels with this man, but goddamn, it's been a long time since she's felt this way. A very long time.

Wait… has she ever felt this way about someone? It's an honest question. She can admit that it does feel different with him. They connect beautifully in every way imaginable; intellectually, emotionally, physically (and oh my god, they have been doing a lot of physical connecting and it's been pretty fan-fucking-tastic). Things are just going so well and she can't remember it being this effortless, this fun, this perfect with anyone else.

They inch forward, waiting their turn, and her gaze snags on Castle's fingers moving deftly across the screen of his phone. They have magical properties, those fingers, and she's been on the receiving end of their talents. She thinks about the things he's done to her with them, the ways in which he's made her whimper and writhe and beg with just the touch of his hand, and she looks away, squirming uncomfortably in her seat as a flush creeps up her neck and onto her cheeks. Damn.

Ugh, why are they not home already? She's tired and hungry and turned on and her feet are sore from walking around all day. They'd managed to drag themselves out of bed before noon for once and gotten out of the city for the afternoon, driving to just beyond the suburbs and spending several hours at this amazing, expansive farmer's market. It had been a blissful afternoon, walking with tangled fingers as they enjoyed the perfect June weather and the pure exhilaration of being able to touch freely and kiss whenever they felt like it for once.

It's not that she's upset that they agreed to keep their relationship a secret for now; both of them understand the necessity. They aren't sure that the NYPD's regs would even apply to their situation, but at the same time, neither wants to tempt fate and risk their partnership. So that means that everywhere they go in Manhattan, they're looking over their shoulders, just in case a familiar face happens by and catches them in the act. That's how rumors get started, and that's how partners get broken up.

But they didn't have to concern themselves with any of that today. Today, they were just Rick and Kate, holding hands, feeding each other samples of the foods for sale, buying fresh ingredients to make their dinner later. They could just be themselves, and god, it was so freeing, the smiles and the teasing and the surreptitious groping. She just enjoyed an entire afternoon of laughter and easy affection and constant physical contact with her new boyfriend (whom she's 99.9% sure she's head-over-heels in love with because the words are constantly on her tongue and fighting to get out) and it only served to stoke the fires of her desire for him.

The throb between her thighs is becoming painfully intense now, and Kate crosses and uncrosses her legs to relieve some of the pressure. The vehicle ahead of them drives onto the mechanized belt that will pull it through the car wash, and Kate has the comfort of knowing they'll be next. If it's as quick as he says, they can be back at his loft in twenty minutes. And right now, it's really important that she get him naked and inside of her as soon as possible before she spontaneously combusts.

Perhaps the most embarrassing part here is the fact that she's already had him today. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours (hell, it hasn't even been eight hours) and she wants him again? Jesus, this is bad. But this morning… ooooh, this morning was so good.

He woke her with a sweet smile and coffee prepared to perfection, and they lounged around in bed for a while, laughing and talking softly, making plans for the day. It wasn't long before they were touching, and then kissing, and then his head was buried between her legs and she was seeing stars. He tugged her into the shower with him afterward and pinned her to the steamy, slippery tile, thrusting into her slowly as he laid claim to her mouth. All it took was the lingering taste of herself on his tongue and the feeling of him moving deep inside her and she was moaning uncontrollably again, his cries of ecstasy following fast on the heels of hers. Later, after they'd dried off and were eating breakfast, they'd agreed for the hundredth time that they were so grateful that his mother and daughter were far, far away in Europe so they could be as noisy and uninhibited as they wanted.

Castle finally pulls the car into position on the track after paying the attendant, placing the transmission into neutral, and she can feel the unnatural lurch of the car being dragged forward into the wash. It's about damn time. They'll be out of here in minutes, she reminds herself, and then they can go home and… yeah. She's not sure where she wants to start with this man, but what she does know is that it's going to involve no clothing and multiple orgasms. She squeezes her thighs together again, doing a little shimmy in her seat, because fuck. This is getting bad.

She gazes out the window as jets of soap begin to coat the hood of the car, covering the windshield and then the sides of the car the farther it proceeds. They're cloaked almost entirely in darkness now, the thick foam blocking out what little light there is in the interior of the car wash. She expects that the brushes will start spinning any second now, but of course, that's the moment that the car's forward movement unexpectedly comes to a jerking halt, and they're surrounded by the sounds of machinery powering down.

Kate glances around (as if she can see a thing through the soap) and even before they hear the scratchy intercom voice that announces that they need to sit tight while the staff makes a few quick repairs, she realizes that for the time being, they're not going anywhere.

Fuck fuck fuck. This cannot be happening.

"Huh. That's new," Castle muses casually, sounding entirely unbothered by this turn of events, and she doesn't even bother trying to hold back yet another savage eye roll. She shifts her legs and rocks her hips backward into the cradle of the bucket seat, desperate for the relief she now knows isn't coming anytime soon, and finally decides to just close her eyes and concentrate on her breathing right now.

By breath ten, she's not feeling any calmer. By breath twenty, she's given up all hope that her attempts to distract herself from the constant pulsation between her thighs will prove successful.

But the exercise is, at the very least, mildly successful in distracting her from the urge to squirm, so she continues with the slow, deep, cleansing breaths: in through the nose, out through the mouth. They're just going to have to wait until the repairs are done. That's all there is to it.

She's on breath fifty when she realizes that Castle is being awfully quiet. Abnormally so, by his standards, anyway. She blinks open her eyes, needing no time to adjust in the darkness of the car, compliments of the thick layer of suds that continue to cling to the exterior. His phone has disappeared and he's watching her intently, his eyes dark and trained on her mouth and the most enigmatic grin on his face. It's a cross between infuriating and shit-eating, and she's about to cop some serious attitude and ask what's got him looking so smug, but he speaks first.

"Something wrong, Beckett?" His lips quirk at the sides, and oooooh, if she didn't want so badly to put that mouth to good use, she'd be tempted to slap it.

"Can I, uh… help you out, in any way?" His voice drops another octave, sex dripping from every innocent-sounding syllable. She knows the widening of her eyes and the flare of her nostrils and the heave of her breasts give her away because oh god, yes, she wants his help. That's definitely what she wants. But… they can't do that. Not here. Can they?

"What, ah… what do you mean?" she gulps. Wow. That was hilariously high-pitched and breathy and, if she was going for casual, not even remotely convincing.

"What I mean," he murmurs roughly, leaning across the console between them until he's just inches from her ear, "is that you look kind of… uncomfortable. We're going to be sitting here for at least a few minutes, I would assume. And, in the interest of complete disclosure, there's something else I should tell you..."

He trails off, his breath warm against her ear and setting off a cascade of goosebumps. He must notice because he huffs out the faintest laugh, the arrogant prick, and seriously, if his hand isn't down her pants in the next thirty seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay.

"W-what…" Her voice skitters to a halt when he bends further, just enough for his lips to skim over her pulse point. "What do you need to tell me?" she finally manages on a tremulous exhale.

He only has to lean in another inch to attach his mouth to her neck, sucking softly, his wicked tongue darting out to taste her skin. Her eyes roll back and she instinctively tilts her chin up and to the right, increasing his access to her, and he doesn't disappoint, latching on harder, his teeth sinking shallowly into her skin and sending an electric current straight to her core.

His hand skims over her knee and between her thighs, sliding up up up until he's maybe an inch from where she's dying to be touched, but going no further. She thrashes in her seat as he kisses his way up her neck, releasing her only when he reaches her ear again.

"Beckett…" he breathes against her ear. Fuck she loves it when he calls her Beckett while he's touching her like this. "I need to tell you that I want you. All the time."

Shit. Her internal muscles clench hard at his declaration and she wiggles her ass again, her body wound so tightly, the throbbing in her center a constant companion now. She knows that he knows exactly what she needs, and he proves her correct a second later when he speaks again.

"And right now, what I really, really want, is to make you come."

She lets out the faintest whimper at the sensation of wet warmth trickling between her legs, his words driving her up even further, but she can't bring herself to feel embarrassed about it, not when the sound is obviously the impetus he needs to finally begin unbuttoning her shorts and lowering the zipper. Ooooh, she can't wait until he gets just a little bit further and discovers…

"Holy shit." Yeah. That.

She smiles. He found it. Or rather, didn't find it.

"Am I to understand you haven't been wearing underwear all day?" His breath comes in a harsh burst against the sensitive flesh of her ear as his fingers pause at her pubic bone, so close to where the pressure is becoming so intense, it's a tangible ache. If he doesn't touch her soon, she...

"I- oh-" she breaks off when his hand advances, his long, thick middle finger just beginning to delve between her soaked folds. "Oh… oh, Castle…" is all she can manage when the digit slides forward again.

He pulls away from her ear, but only far enough to lean in and kiss her properly, his tongue stroking hot and nimble against her own, his lips muffling the moans she can't hold back anymore. Aided by the wetness that's practically dripping out of her, his middle finger glides further down and between her lips, circling her entrance, only to retreat, spreading her arousal, slippery and slick, all over her clit, and oooooh his touch is like a spark, the fire in her veins burning hotter than ever and threatening to consume her from the inside out.

Castle finally releases her mouth but doesn't go far; her hand that's clamped around his neck now keeps him close. Their damp, swollen lips brush as they share a few gasping breaths.

"You went commando today, Kate." His eyes flare with delight, his finger circling her clit maddeningly slowly, and oh fuck, if this is how he rewards her for it, she's going to ditch her underwear way more often in the future. The very near future. "Did you do that for me?"

She gasps when he presses down just a little harder as he caresses her nerves, her other hand now in an iron grip around his bicep as her hips roll mindlessly into the smooth movement of his digits. Jesus, this is not going to take long at all. But even in her haze of ecstasy, she finally manages to nod, to let him know that yes, in fact, she did do that for him.

"That's why I'm crazy about you Kate," he whispers against her cheek, dropping a tender kiss there that belies the sinfulness of what he's doing between her legs. "You're so effortlessly sexy. So gorgeous. I want you, all the time, and I only find myself wanting more and more. I want all of you."

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, because those words… she knows what he's saying without actually saying it. She knows, because she feels exactly the same. She wants all of him too, and the thought that this man is it for her has her desire spiraling to new heights.

He backs off when he hears her breathing becoming more urgent, her involuntary little moans telling him she's so close. Bastard. He plans to torment her just a little more. A pleasant shiver ripples through her at the thought; okay, so maybe she's not entirely against that plan, but she can't take much more teasing. She is way too worked up right now, and the car wash could become operational again at any moment.

"I can smell you, you know." Oh fuck, he's back to teasing her. He takes a long inhale through his nose as his fingers brush feather-light over her aching clit, her internal muscles clenching hard around the emptiness. "You smell almost as good as you taste, like you tasted this morning…"

Her body flushes hot at the memory of his talented tongue between her legs earlier today, and the fact that this man does not shy away from oral sex. He had her writhing, begging, taking her apart methodically not once, but two times before they got up to bathe (well, have sex and then bathe). She knows he's just tormenting her now, driving her up a little further before he lets her come, but she just goes with it because it feels so goddamned good and they're trapped in a car wash anyway, so why the hell not?

She thrusts her pelvis forward, wishing he'd slide a thick digit (or two) into her and she almost chooses that moment to be the first time she says I love you out loud when he actually does it. She could sing with the sheer pleasure of how perfectly he touches her, pressing deep and watching her face intently as he curls the fingers inside of her forward, dragging them against her inner wall.

The battle being waged to keep her eyes open is lost then, her head tipping back against the seat and and her mouth hanging open in a gasp when he withdraws his fingers and presses them to her clit again. Her body is beyond her control now, her hips rocking shamelessly and keeping time with the movement of his hand as he ravages her nerves, and as she senses herself approaching the precipice, she can't help but think, I really do love this man.

And maybe it's that knowledge, the epiphany that holy shit, Castle really is her one and done that finally sends her flying. The hand that's perched on his bicep slides down to wrap around his and keep him in place as she rides his fingers, the orgasm blazing outward from her center and decimating her with its force. Oh my god is the only thing she can manage to say as the pleasure explodes in her belly and spreads to her fingers and toes, the crown of her head prickling with the intensity of it.

By the time she slumps back into the seat, she's panting, purring, twitching as Castle continues to brush her nerves with a feather-light touch. She can only half-comprehend the words of adoration and awe that he murmurs into her ear as she comes down from her high, her brain wonderfully fuzzy in the wake of the pleasure he bestowed upon her.

But it's more than that, so much more than the physical bliss they've found in each other's arms. He loves her, would do anything for her. She knows it, just like she knows that he's the one. She's never been more sure of anything in her life, and the thought makes her heart surge and another shiver of pleasure wrack her body.

When she finally peels her eyes open, he's right there, gazing at her with so much tenderness, so much devotion, he looks as completely besotted as she feels. She only has to move her head a few inches to touch her lips to his, and for a few seconds, that's all there is; just them, and the soft smudging of their mouths, and this beautiful thing that they're creating together.

There's still that dark corner of her mind that's terrified of this intimacy; relationships rarely follow a linear path, and there's so much she can't control or predict. It's the gamble every person takes when they open themselves up to another this way. But isn't that the reason why she's alive, to risk her heart? No one has ever made her feel alive the way that this man has. No one has ever loved and accepted and supported her the way he does. He's it for her.

A crackly, disembodied voice comes to life over the intercom then, announcing that the car wash is operational once again. Their mouths remain connected even as they curve into lazy smiles, while the rotating brushes come to life and the car begins to move forward once more. He pulls his hand from between her legs and fastens her shorts, tipping his forehead into hers when he's done.

"You okay?" he murmurs against her lips, and yeah. Yeah, she really is okay for the first time in so long.

"I'm great," she sighs, leaning in to steal a short, sweet kiss. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure."

She barks out a laugh at that, because wasn't it her pleasure? No matter… now that the desperate need that had been consuming her is relieved, she can begin to formulate the many ways she'll repay him upon their arrival back at the loft. She's feeling downright inspired.

They straighten up in their seats as the clean car finally emerges into sunlight, and she looks over at Castle just as he's slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes, and oh hell. She wants him again.

"Ready to go home?" he asks with a sly smile.

Returning his grin, she ups the ante with a quirk of her eyebrow. "I am. The question is, are you ready?"

Castle's smile only grows as he revs the engine of the Ferrari and peels out of the car wash.

"Bring it on, Beckett."

My contribution to the Castle Pornado! Many thanks to Lou (Her Royal Eminence of the Fic Prompts) who insisted I write this after a Twitter conversation of which I have absolutely no recollection. All I know is that suddenly, it was my job to write car wash smut (which was the working title of this fic btw). To Lou (and everyone else): I hope the build up was worth it. And yes, that's what she said.

Many thanks to Joan for the kick-ass editing and laughs, as always!