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Five Times Chuck Kissed Casey (and One Time Casey Kissed First)

The first time Chuck kisses Casey, it's gross on so many levels. Neither of them wants to, and Chuck only does it out of the kindness of his heart – because with the flu and his angry growling, Casey isn't attractive on any level. The agent doesn't like it, either, not that Chuck expected him to – Chuck doesn't bring his skills to the table, he's just trying to save Casey's life. And it turns out it's all for nothing, anyway, because saliva doesn't produce antibodies at all. Or so Jill says. Chuck still thinks he was on to something. But Casey growls and threatens to tear his arm off if he tells anyone, so Chuck doesn't count this as a win.

***

The second time, it's for a mission and Chuck heartily believes it saves their asses. He and Casey are undercover at a – yes, get this – a gay bar, because the target hangs out there. Sarah, obviously, would stick out like a sore thumb so she gets to stay in the van for once. Chuck had let Sarah dress him convincingly as a gay man out clubbing – which, much to his chagrin, only involved a tighter pair of jeans and a snug lavender t-shirt. It could have been something Chuck would wear voluntarily, which made him a little worried. But once they get to the bar, it is surprisingly easy: Casey, looking resplendent in black trousers and a leather collar above his sleeveless black shirt, spots the target, follows him around, and finally Chuck flashes on something. So Casey grabs the target, drags him out through the emergency exit, and knocks him out with one solid punch. The guy goes down reeling.

That, of course, is when Casey and Chuck notice the three other couples who are gaping at them from various positions of sexual intercourse around the alley. One of the guys on his knees is already reaching for his pocket; Chuck suspects for a phone. So he acts quickly.

“Trust me,” he hisses at Casey with a significant stare, before he throws both arms around the big man's neck and yells, “My hero!”

Then he kisses Casey for the second time in his life. Casey struggles a little, but he quickly goes still when it becomes apparent that the other people out there go back to their activities with barely a few shrugged shoulders. He doesn't for one second open his lips, though. Casey's shoulders are so tense under Chuck's arms it almost hurts a little.

Casey pulls away after a few moments and glares death and pain at Chuck. He pulls him by the shirt and drags both Chuck and the unconscious mark back inside, and one of their team – disguised as a bouncer – helps them with the dead weight. Chuck is beginning to think this is going rather well; Casey even waits until they're back in the van to comment on the whole episode.

“Walker, can you please disregard protocol just this once and sleep with the asset?” Casey snarls at Sarah. “Or we could just buy him a whore. He's starting to bug me something serious.”

But Sarah not only got the kiss on surveillance, she even took a snapshot with her cell. And she is laughing her head off at Casey's obvious discomfort all the way back to the apartment.

***

The third time, it's a BuyMore bet. Chuck should have learned years ago not to take the bait when Morgan, Jeff or Lester bets him something stupid, but this time the three of them have joined forces and are offering him one hundred and fifty dollars – fifty bucks each – if Chuck can kiss “the big, scary dude in the green shirt” and get away with it. If Chuck fails to accomplish this task, he will owe them fifty each. They think he won't have the balls.

Chuck, however, knows that Casey is a betting man himself. So he accepts the challenge gracefully, grinning at his co-workers and assuring them that they have just lost themselves a bet.

Casey is conveniently placed in the home cinema room, oiling up the hinges on their secret weapons storage. He's put a scattering of broken remotes on the table in front of him so it will look to any observer as if he's simply fixing the merchandise.

Chuck's nerve fails him briefly when he catches sight of Casey's enormously broad shoulders, barrel-like chest and trademark scowl. He falters, but then pulls himself together and enters the room with as casual a gait as he can possibly manage.

“Hey, Casey.”

Grunt. So far, so good.

“Twenty dollars say you can't keep still for thirty seconds no matter what distractions I can come up with.”

Casey snorts, disdainfully this time. “You eager to lose your lunch money, kid?”

“None of the others have done it,” Chuck lies easily. “I'm the master of disturbing people's zen.”

“While I know that to be annoyingly true, I'll take your bet,” Casey says brashly. “Don't try to pit your kindergartner friends against a grown man.”

Chuck casts a glance over his shoulder to ensure that the others are, indeed, watching him. They can't say he didn't do it if they're all watching it happen. So Chuck grins at Casey. “Clock starts now.”

Casey doesn't move an inch as Chuck moves in between him and the low table. He doesn't even flinch when Chuck gets up in his personal space. He does, however, give a fair twitch when Chuck places both hands on the agent's shoulders and leans down. Then Chuck places an open-mouthed kiss right across Casey's closed lips. Casey tenses up like a coiled spring, but he keeps admirably still. If Chuck had thought to mention no flinching, he would even have won this bet, but he is fully prepared to lose twenty in order to win a hundred and fifty.

When Chuck tilts his head and licks along that strong, hard line of agent lips, John Casey actually does a tiny little intake of breath, servicing to open his mouth enough for Chuck to thrust his tongue in there. The tension in Casey's large frame is palpable and clearly painful, but he doesn't budge.

“Okay, you win,” Chuck says, a little hoarsely, as he pulls back with a grin. “Wow, you're a stoic dude, aren't you?”

“Bonsai tree,” Casey growls, and is that a slight quiver in his growl Chuck can hear?

A hundred and thirty bucks say it is.

***

The fourth time Casey's lips are targeted by Chuck's, it's actually Sarah's fault. They're at a stakeout, and Casey has gone in undercover – meaning that he pretended to be a lost, helpless tourist, and the bad guys took him without a second glance. The bad guys, incidentally, are just the target's easily bored henchmen, but their taking Casey inside provides just the opening Sarah needs to break into the warehouse and bring a whole cavalry of kevlar with her. The team takes the bad guys outside in chains, and leave Sarah and Chuck to free Casey and fill out reports.

“Chuck,” Sarah whispers, pulling on the nerd's shoulder so he has to lean down to her. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Sure, anything,” Chuck says glibly. He loves successful, nearly safe missions.

“Go kiss Casey.”

Chuck almost swallows his own tongue. Involuntarily, his gaze is drawn to the impatiently waiting figure of his other handler. John Casey is tied to a chair, sans clothes save his shorts and wife beater, with a blindfold and a gag in place. The fact that he hasn't already begun yelling for someone to untie him, is due solely to the gag in his mouth. He looks coiled, dangerous, even like that.

“Why?” Chuck chokes out.

“I owe him one,” Sarah says darkly. She's referring, of course, to the pictures of her in her underwear which mystically found their way onto Lester's phone. “Come on, he won't get mad, just uncomfortable. Help me out?”

And why could Chuck never say no to Sarah? So he swallows against his suddenly dry throat and edges over towards Casey. The agent can hear someone approaching, and turns his head sharply towards the noise. He makes muffled grunts into the gag.

Chuck pulls the gag out, but doesn't touch anything else. He leans in, takes a deep breath, and kisses Casey for the fourth time. At first Casey jerks away with an angry growl, but then Chuck grasps his face to hold him steady and angles his head, trying to get his tongue in there and deepen the kiss. He has a niggling suspicion that this isn't a good idea, but the feel of Casey's stubble and manly jaw is just too hard to resist.

Suddenly, John Casey goes lax and pliant underneath him. He opens his mouth and Chuck takes advantage, thrusting his tongue in. Before he really knows what he's doing, Chuck finds himself straddling Casey on that chair, kissing him like he means business. And Casey is kissing him back, groaning very faintly in the back of his throat.

“Uh...” Sarah says, but then there's just the sound of her hastily retreating heels and Chuck knows they're alone in the warehouse.

When he finally pulls away, he takes a deep breath before he eases the blindfold off Casey. The agent blinks up at him, but there's no look of surprise or shock on that rugged face.

“I thought I tasted a rat,” Casey growls good-naturedly, then strains against his bonds. “Now cut me loose before I cut someone's throat.”

***

The fifth time, Chuck can't defend it to himself, but he does it anyway. It's the annual BuyMore Christmas party, and there is much spiked eggnog to be had. Jeff has also injected, with a syringe, every single cupcake or other confection with extra alcohol. In conclusion, everyone is pretty much drunk, except Casey, who is technically still working and therefore sips his ginger beer slowly, glaring Jeff away from him by sheer force of will.

And Casey, apparently unconscious of the fact, is standing directly underneath a twig of mistletoe. Which is the only reason, Chuck promises himself, why he is currently heading directly for Casey with the intention of spreading a little holiday cheer.

“Hey, Casey,” Chuck says, grinning at the agent. They're approximately the same height, but he still feels like he's looking up at Casey – possibly because Chuck himself is listing to the side like a drunken sailor.

Grunt.

“You know, it's Christmas, right?” Chuck says hopefully.

Grunt.

“And you know you're not allowed to hurt the Intersect at Christmas, right?”

Growl.

“Ah, what the hell,” Chuck says with bravado, and points upwards. “Mistletoe.”

Then, while Casey is momentarily distracted by the realization that there is indeed mistletoe above his head, Chuck moves in for the kill. When he feels their lips slanted together once more, he grins into it and thinks he could get used to this. Casey tastes good, after all.

“Bartowski,” Casey growls, but Chuck is drunk and happy and comfortable with his new-found attraction to his handler, so he presses closer yet and licks over Casey's lips. That garners him the same surprised almost-but-too-manly-to-be-a-gasp, and entrance is his.

When Casey slips a hesitant hand around his hip, Chuck knows he's won. He grins even wider into the kiss. Christmas is awesome.

“Merry Christmas, Casey,” Chuck slurs happily into Casey's mouth.

“Mrgh,” Casey replies, but it's almost real words, so Chuck chalks it up as another win.

***

The first time Casey kisses Chuck, it's remarkably like that time Sarah kissed him before the supposed bomb was about to go off – an event that has been growing ever more hazy in Chuck's mind. They're about to jump out of a building at forty-second floor, and their measly fire-hoses used as bungees are no guarantees of their survival. Sarah has been safely evacuated, but Chuck and Casey find themselves looking down out of a shot-up window and wondering just how many action movies are too many.

“Casey,” Chuck says, haltingly, and looks at his handler.

Casey grabs him roughly by the neck and crushes their lips together with bruising force. It hurts and Chuck can feel strong teeth breaking skin, but the moment is already flooded with adrenaline and survival instincts and this is perfect. They remain like that for far too few precious seconds, almost gnawing at each other in desperation, and then Casey pushes him out the window and jumps after him. After that, there's a lot of screaming and yelling, and they get about ten floors down with their fire-hose bungees before they're stuck, dangling helplessly outside a building. At level thirty-two.

By the time a clever chopper pilot, a rappelling Sarah and a few safety harnesses have done their job, Chuck may be standing on firm ground but he is not at all feeling stable. He looks wild-eyed at Casey, and finds Casey grinning that mad dog smile at him.

“Good day for a kiss, huh?” Casey asks quietly.

Chuck jumps his bones and stops counting the kisses.