Next Time, I Call Shotgun

by Artie Fowl

Shawn was looking at him again, a half smile formed on his face; a look Lassiter decided he didn't care for, "Your secret is safe with me. I won't tell anyone. I'm really good at keeping secrets; even better at being one." Somewhat of a PWP. Slash.

I hope you guys liked this. It was pretty hard to pull off. It's my first Psych fanfic as well. I only wrote it because I found a prompt for it on psychkinkmeme and thought it'd be kind of neat. No beta, all mistakes are mine. Enjoy.

---

"Stop touching me!"

"Well, gee, Lassie. Sure would if I could." Shawn blinked, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His head was pounding like he had downed four bottles of scotch the night before. "Your car is just not as roomy in the back as you thought. But," He elongated that last word much to Lassiter's annoyance, "At least now you know how I feel every time you toss me back here like some cheap drunk."

"Shut, up, Spencer." Lassiter all but growled as he shifted uncomfortably against the other man, his left side pressed stiffly against Shawn's right.

"I trust now you'll think twice about doing so?" Shawn admonished halfheartedly, his body hunched over as he tried to peer out of the window on the detectives side of the car, awkward really when ones hands were cuffed behind their back. Lassiter glared at him, a thin strip of moonlight streaking across Shawn's face showed him that the kid was squinting at whatever was outside his window. "Nice of them to crack the windows at least. That's a pretty nice breeze."

He eyed him warily, "Just what are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out exactly where we are – "

"The back seat of my car, Spencer."

" – Exactly where your car is, then." Shawn corrected himself.

Lassiter looked around as well, his side first, then the other, cursing under his breath. "I have no idea where we are, and these gotdamn cuffs are getting on my nerves." He faced Shawn again, and spoke before the other could comment, his tone mocking, "Well, come on psychic. Divine something."

"Lassie, please." Shawn sat up straight, looking out the back window, taking in the scenery, "I've already done so."

The snort that came from the older man beside him sounded almost vulgar. "When I get these cuffs off, Spencer, your ass is mine."

"Is that a promise?" Shawn's gaze slipped easily onto and locked with Lassiter's, that trademark shit eating grin on his face, "I'll keep mine on then."

Lassiter grunted, not willing to dignify that with a response. "Where are we?"

"If I'm not mistaken – and we know I'm not – we're near Santa Monica Bay, under the Malibu Pier, sinking slowly but surely." A large wave crashed against the side of the car, almost as if to prove his point; water poured inside a bit and Lassiter squirmed as his feet were now ankle deep.

"Dammit, Spencer – "

" – Not joking. We're totally under it." Lassiter gave him a look of disbelief and Shawn went to move his left hand to his head to perform his usual hand-to-head routine, and cursed as the cuffs dug into his skin, keeping said hand in place; Lassiter tried to pretend to not take pleasure in his discomfort. "Well, you know the deal."

"Psychic my ass."

"Really, Detective. This odd fixation with asses, while hot, is so inappropriate during a dire situation such as this."

Lassiter scowled. "If you put all that effort of being a fake psychic into being a real cop – "

Shawn resisted mentioning that the old man was beginning to sound like his father lest he gave himself away, and opted to roll his eyes instead, "Come on Lassie, we both know you wouldn't want that."

"And why the hell not?"

"It's more fun this way!"

"Oh for fucks sake, Spencer..."

The sound that Shawn was trying his hardest to ignore was steadily getting louder, and seemingly closer. A muffled sound of panic escaped his lips and Lassiter's eyes widened as the car shifted abruptly, moving forward slightly, more water began to fill the backseat. Lassiter grunted at the cold water which was now just at the middle of his calves.

"Hey, you know, this is just like The Defiant Ones and I'm Noah Cullen and you're Tony Curtis."

"Spencer." Lassiter narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing, "I just – I can't believe you seriously likened our situation to two escaping prisoners who hate each other based on their racial differences."

"You're right. I shouldn't do that. It should totally be me and Gus." Shawn blinked, sitting back slightly, surprise clear in his expression, "Lassie, I can't even believe you know what I'm talking about!"

"Unfortunately I do, and you're really making me wish I didn't."

"No, no! See, the fact is that they hate each other, which is like us, the exception being it's more of a one-sided hate. Even so, they need to help each other out, by putting their differences aside and working together towards freedom."

"This is nothing like that!"

Shawn bounced in his seat, excited, "Oh come on! This is exactly like that! Except, you know, I'm white and you're white too. But we totally have our differences. I have great hair, you have... not so great hair."

Lassiter rolled his eyes and ignored him, maybe he would shut up if he did. "If we don't get out of here soon, we're going to be pulled under." He muttered, the sloshing of the waves against his car grating on his nerves. "My car is gonna be ruined."

"And no ass will be had!"

Lassiter glared at him, "You're footing the bill for this."

"What? Oh man, Lassie that is so not fair." Shawn whined, pulling at his cuffs, managing to project a calm he didn't feel. He looked around again, planning their escape. It would have to be done quickly before they were submerged. We have two chances to get out of here, He surmised to himself, One is now, very now, before the car sinks any lower, the water pressure would cause the doors to remain put.

"Can it, Spencer. I'll make sure the Chief docks this from your paycheck." He smirked, realizing he finally had a leg up on the smug bastard, "Oh wait, that's right, you're not getting one since you're not on this case."

"Dude, I totally came here to warn you about McPherson." And if that happened, we would have to move onto Plan B, which is where we wait until the car is completely submerged and open the doors that way.

"Yes, Spencer, thank you." Sarcasm laced his words, "A little sooner would've been nice."

"Well if you would answer your phone, maybe I could've!" Which I can't do if my hands are behind my back. The backseat windows only go down half way, I can't fit through them. I'll need to be able to open the doors from the outside...

"You called me fourteen times within an hour!" Lassiter yelled, exasperated, "Just to give me a play by play of the wedding in Days of Our Lives! Which again, I couldn't care less about!"

"Wedding of the century, Lassie!"

"And then you called another five times to tell me the sky looked especially 'trippy' today!" He leaned in close to Shawn, his face red as he yelled, "So forgive me if I couldn't find it in myself to pick up the sixth time you called!"

"The sixth time was to warn you, obviously. And seriously, did you not see that sky today? Dude, there were colours everywhere. If I did drugs – which I don't – I might have freaked the hell out."

"You did freak out!"

"Tch, yeah! But in the good way! You should totally go sky gazing with me some time, Lass. Just think, we can scale the rooftops of the local Taco Hut, enjoy a few while we're there and check out some stars. Like camping. Only without tents. Or sleeping bags, which I hate anyway because the damn zipper always gets stuck. No campfire either." He paused in thought for a second, "Or pretty much anything that makes camping, camping." Shawn suddenly immediately knew how they could get out, the plan formed in his mind already. He just really needed to get out of these cuffs. "I need your zipper."

"There is no way in hell I'm going to – Wait, what?"

"I said, I need your zipper."

"Sure, let me just grab it for you." He glared pointedly at Shawn.

"Come on, Lassie! Don't be the one wet, sticky marshmallow in a bag of dry ones."

He chose to ignore the asinine words that came from the younger man's mouth. "And just how do you propose I give it to you?"

"You don't need to propose to give it to me, Lassie. It's a new age." Shawn leered. Lassiter's mouth opened to respond but found he had no words and was really not sure what he was going to say anyway, but he was glad it didn't matter long enough to Shawn either and continued. "I can get us out of these cuffs."

"That's great!" Lassiter cried with false enthusiasm, "How. Are you. Going. To. Do. It. Spencer." He slowed his tone down, speaking as if he were with a small mentally disabled child.

"Just let me get your zipper."

"Spencer, I can't give you my damn zipper! We're in the same position!"

"I was just trying to give you a heads up."

"For wha – Ah!" Lassiter jumped, eyes wide, as Shawn leaned forward without warning, and he found himself with a lap full of Shawn's face; the younger man's nose was pressing firmly against certain appendages as he burrowed into his crotch and everything was weird and what the hell was going on – "Spencer!" He shifted uncomfortably, his movements jerky as he tried his best to remove the kid's head from his lap, "Spencer!"

Shawn's head lifted just slightly, "I told you I needed your zipper. You can confirm your raging heterosexuality at the gun range later. " It was muffled, but he heard it when Shawn spoke, his breath hot against his pants. His voice went a little lower and he strained to hear him, "Just sit still long enough so I can make sure you get there."

The seriousness in his voice brooked no argument from Lassiter, who finally took a deep breath and stilled himself as much as he could. Shawn was taking this seriously and as ridiculous as it seemed, he obviously really did need his zipper. "Just... hurry it up."

It was obscene, the image that passed through his head as he felt Shawn's lips form a smile against his sudden half erection. If Shawn noticed – and of course he noticed, the damn fool noticed everything – he didn't say a word. Lassiter froze as he felt his zipper being tugged downward, the sound of it loud in the sudden silence; he held his breath when he suddenly felt a light pressure slide along his length and realized it was Shawn's nose pressed against him as he slid the zipper along it's path – and that really shouldn't have felt so good. Think of the Penal Code, He chanted in his head, Penal Code 214...

"Nice, boxer briefs. Now I know we have something in common. Let's do shopping."

He really didn't need to hear Shawn commenting on his choices of underwear in this situation. "Come on Spencer, we haven't got much time."

"Give me a break," His voice muffled, sounding like he had something in his mouth. "This is really hard."

He blanched, willing his quickly growing erection to go away, "Stop talking and hurry the hell up."

He heard the tiny clink sound of metal against teeth and waited; wondered exactly how Shawn was going to get his zipper detached. It was even worse because every second he was down there, it only made him think harder (no pun intended) about exactly what Shawn was doing down there; made him see things in his head. It didn't help that Shawn's head was bobbing up and down, tilting slightly as he tried to get a grip on his zipper, making small noises of frustration when said item slipped from between his wet lips.

Eyes wide, and trying his hardest to not stare down at that mop of brown hair that bobbed in his lap, he tried not to think about it. It made him imagine things, made him question himself on why he was even imagining these things. Things he knew was not happening; that could never happen. He imagined Shawn giving up on his task at hand, only to start a new one, nuzzling open the hole in his boxer briefs, letting his already hard dick free after coaxing it out with his tongue. Imagined him planting kisses to the tip, the sides; his tongue then lazily drawing itself up along the underside of his erection, because that's something Shawn would do, drag it out as long as – No! He chastised himself, a frustrated groan escaped his lips, shaming himself further, Not here! Now isn't the time to be thinking about your stupid fantasies! Stupid fantasies that won't even happen!

"Lassie," Shawn's muffled voice broke through his thoughts, noticing finally that the other man stopped moving, and Lassiter froze, feeling a now all too familiar pair of lips pressed gently to where his abdomen met the base of his dick, felt those sinful lips move when Shawn breathed the words, felt the tightening in his abdomen when he heard his name on those lips. "Lassie, I had no idea you felt that way."

His words came out a lot steadier than he felt, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Suddenly the car lurched again slightly and he felt himself slide forward and cursed as more water sloshed in, now just above his knees. The motion had caused Shawn to topple sideways. Do a barrel roll!, quickly flashed through Shawn's mind as he did so and snickered to himself, his body now wedged slightly between Lassiter's knees and the back of the passenger side seat, with of course – curse his luck – his head under water.

"Shit, shit!" Lassiter cursed again when his brain finally caught up to his eyes and lifted his legs slightly, the kids weight heavy on his shins, to reveal a spluttering and wet Shawn. "You okay?"

"Thanks, man." Shawn spit, then smiled, looking up at Lassiter who merely glared at him. "That's a lot tougher than I thought."

"Dammit, Spencer." He tried to ignore the way Shawn licked his lips.

Tried to ignore that mouth, that terribly talented mouth. Tried not to think about how Shawn always had a way out of a situation involving that horribly talented tongue of his. Lassiter always had a thing for Shawn's mouth, and it was hard watching the man enjoy sucking down smoothies and licking lollipops and pretty much performing fellatio on popsicles.

He always partook in them with such earnest, it made him often wonder what would those lips be like wrapped around certain other phallic shaped objects. He wondered if Shawn knew he was attracting every gay man – no – every damn person within a fifty-foot radius with his actions. And Lassiter himself wondered if his tongue and mouth were capable of other talented acts that didn't involve an impromptu foreplay session with just his zipper.

He tore his gaze from Shawn's lips, finally realizing that the younger man was staring at him, a stupid grin on his face, and realization dawned on him, "Oh, Fuck."

That smile only got wider, "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Fuck you! You lied to me!" Lassiter snarled, "I can't believe I almost fell for that!"

"What?" Shawn blinked as the smile fell from his lips, looking like a hurt wet puppy a sudden – No, no, don't... Lassiter's thoughts streaked through his head. Shawn was taken aback, confusion evident on his face, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Lassiter swallowed and Shawn frowned as his mouth closed, he could tell that the kid was moving his tongue around, "I..."

"Man, Lassie," He said after a moment, his mouth sounding full once again, "Calm down."

Lassiter looked down at him as something glinted in the light on Shawn's lips; it was his zipper. "You... You got it. How the..."

Shawn didn't say a word as he shifted as much as he could, bracing himself against Lassiter's knee, flipping him self over again so that his knees touched the floor of the car, his balance shaken by the water that moved around him. Raising himself up, Shawn took his seat next to Lassiter again, and took a breath, "Hm."

Suddenly, Shawn was in his face, his lips pressed to Lassiter's and the detective stiffened. Shawn Spencer was... kissing him? Shawn Spencer, was kissing him. His eyes closed as he pressed forward, tasting those lips, and god that tongue and – metal? He was tasting metal? No, no no... Please say I didn't do what I think I just did... Lassiter inhaled sharply through his nose, his heart pounding in his chest as he slowly opened his eyes. Shawn wasn't kissing him, and said man was giving him a weird and worried look. He felt his stomach drop and quickly pulled back, that was when he felt the zipper in his mouth. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

"Sorry man, I didn't want to risk setting it on the seat." Shawn made a face, scraping his teeth against his tongue after a second, "Ach! Metal does not taste good."

The tip of Lassiter's ears burned, his tongue nervously turning over the zipper in his mouth. "Come on, Spencer, we gotta get out of here."

"Dude, what do you think I'm trying to do?" Shawn turned around, his back facing him, and for a minute Lassiter thought he was going to act like a petulant child, refusing to do what was asked of him, when he remembered Shawn's hands were behind his back too, and it was the only way he could grab the zipper, his hand opened and closed in the standard 'gimmie' motion. "Come on, Lassie."

Oh, right. Lassiter leaned down, his eyes flicking upward to notice the back of Shawn's flushed neck. He dropped the zipper from his mouth into Shawn's open and waiting palm.

"Finally!" Shawn muttered, his hand clasping around, hopefully, their ticket to freedom. "So, what did I lie about this time?"

"Hurry up, Spencer!" Lassiter muttered, his voice shaky as he caught a flash of the pink tongue on Shawn's lips. His eyes cast downward as Shawn began to try free himself, he wasn't kidding then. "Are you any good at this?" He had to divert the conversation, he didn't want to be having it right now, now when the water began to fill up faster and faster; it was to his waist, and the car was dragged even more into the bay, in a few seconds it would be at his chest.

"I've done it a few times." Shawn said, his voice dismissive. Whether it was due to the concentration he was employing or he figured out exactly what Lassiter was thinking earlier, he didn't know. "My dad – " The car tilted harshly to the left, forcing Shawn to fall forward, his head thunking against the headrest of the driver seat. "Dammit!"

"What's wrong now?"

"Fuck!" Shawn spat, his feet stomping ineffectually against the floor of the car, and he turned frantically, "I fucking – Gotdammit! – I fucking lost the zipper!"

"Dammit, Spencer!" Lassiter yelled, even though it was pointless, he couldn't blame the kid really, it was dark, and wet, and he was sure it was slippery. The fact that the car kept jerking them around every five seconds couldn't have helped either, however, he couldn't stop the words coming from his mouth, "Can't you do anything right?"

Shawn wasn't reacting, didn't even look him, just continued his search for the lost zipper, his eyes darting back and forth in an attempt to spot the small piece. Shit, keep it together Carlton, Lassiter thought to himself, The damn kid is calmer than you.

"Fuck!" Shawn cried abruptly, kicking the seat in front of him, water splashing. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Or not. "Calm down, Spencer." He looked around, for anything, anything at all to help them, his own panic starting to rise as did the water, "We'll find a way out."

Finally Shawn looked at him, his chin dipping into the water as it rose faster. "Sorry, Lassie." He spluttered, spitting out water as it threatened to overcome his mouth.

"It's..." It's not okay. We're going to die here. We're going to die and I couldn't protect him. I couldn't protect a civilian in need I –

"It's not your fault. We're not going to die here." Lassiter looked up as Shawn spoke, breaking his train of thought. While he still as damn sure didn't believe the man to be psychic, it sure felt like it sometimes. "I can finish what I started you know."

"Spen – "

"Besides, look what they made me do to my hair!"

"Oh for the love of god!" Lassiter cried, exasperated as Shawn cried out suddenly, breathing heavily, face contorted in pain. "Spencer? Are you okay?"

"Mmhm." Shawn closed his eyes, the top of his forehead pressing against the roof of the car as he tried to keep his face above the water. Lassiter was sure he looked the same as he did. Shawn hissed in pain again and looked at him, a forced smile on his lips, "I'm sensing... We're going under. But don't worry, I'll have us out before you can say arrivederci."

He snorted. "Bull—it." Only Shawn would try to crack a joke down to his last moment. "Wha – rt – ou?" Lassiter tried to ask what had hurt him, but the water splashing in an out of his mouth was making it difficult.

Then Shawn disappeared as did he, and then whole damn roof.

The car had sunk. They were completely under.

Lassiter could hold his breath for a long time, but he had no idea how long Shawn could hold his. Probably a long time, seeing as the man could talk forever before taking a breath. It had been a long time since Detective Lassiter had been at a loss; a very long time. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't see Shawn in the murky darkness, didn't know if he were still alive. He supposed it didn't matter, they would be dead soon. His chest burned, yearning to let go of the breath he was holding. He felt a slight pang of regret at the fact he didn't get to thank Shawn for at least trying to save their lives.

He let some air slip, easing the burning in his chest a bit. Why fight it? He thought to himself, Why fight it? The longer you hold on, the longer the inevitable. Arrivederci, my ass.

The water stirred around him, and he fruitlessly tried to look around to see if Shawn were still alive, when suddenly something grabbed his collar from behind and he was being pulled backwards, the action causing him to panic slightly and he expelled the little air he was holding. Through sheer force of will he stopped himself from inhaling, feeling himself be pulled up and up and up – he realized backup had arrived they had found them, someone had found them oh thank God – Shawn! Nobody else even knew Shawn was here!

And then suddenly there was air, cold and crisp and sharp on his face and he inhaled as hard as he could, his lungs greedily filling themselves for all they were worth. He coughed and spluttered as he felt himself being roughly dragged away from where he was pulled up from. He idly thought about how terrible his rescuer was at rescuing, he obviously didn't know the correct way to hold a person who was drowning – "We have to go back!" He coughed again, "You have to – You have to go back down there! Someone else is still down there!"

His rescuer ignored him and he tried to tug them back in the opposite direction, "Spencer! He's still down there!"

"Relax, Lassie," A familiar voice, it was strained, "I've got him."

His eyes widened, "Spencer?"

"The one and only," He paused a brief moment, "Besides my dad. Very hard to confuse the two; I've got more hair. Say, was your last thought arrivederci? Because I totally called it."

"Shut up, Spencer." Lassiter ground out and Shawn made a noise of triumph, which he promptly ignored, "How did you manage to get out?"

"I can't talk and swim at the same time, Lassie."

Lassiter gave a slight nod, more for himself than anything and tried to lessen his weight by kicking along in time with Shawn, which believe it or not was really hard to do while cuffed. Shawn had come back for him, had saved his life. He thought little about Shawn Spencer, in a lot of ways, but at least he was definitely a man of his word. "Yeah," He said suddenly before he could think better of it, "Yeah, that was my last thought."

He could practicality hear the damn face-splitting smile that broke out onto Shawn's face.

Luckily for them, the shore was not much further and Lassiter was soon being dragged along its bank moments later, once they were clear of the crashing waves, Shawn let him go and plopped down on his rear opposite him, breathing heavily, his back halfway turned to him.

Lassiter cleared his throat, "Uh, thanks, Spencer."

Shawn nodded once, his head down, "No problem, Lassieface."

He ignored that, it was the least he could do, the kid did just save his life. "Look, I know you're tired, but can you get these cuffs off me?"

"Ah... yeah, just – " Shawn's voice stuttered as he hissed lowly in pain, "Just give me a minute."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just hold on a minute."

"Alright." Lassiter cleared his throat once more and looked around, seeing that they were at the Santa Monica Bay, right near the Malibu Pier. Shawn had been right, of course he was, he was always right. "How did you do it?"

Shawn started, obviously not expecting the older man to talk to him and gave him a quick glance. "I tried to get us out before going under, but that was unlikely, seeing how quickly it was filling up. I freed myself right as we went under, went to the front and opened the doors from there. Probably could've gotten out sooner if the backseat of cop cars opened from the inside."

"Keep dreaming." Lassiter snorted, being almost drowned in the backseat of his own car was not enough to make him change his locks, he looked up as Shawn rolled his eyes.

"Had to swim up for air, I can't hold my breath as long as you, you know. Swam back down as quickly as I could because you were going under fast, Lassie. I never swam so hard in my life." Shawn let out a shaky breath, "I didn't think I'd get to you in time. I almost..." He trailed off, swallowing. Lassiter couldn't help but think that the words "lost you" were meant to be the end of that sentence.

"I'm glad you made it back." Lassiter's nodded, unsure if Shawn had seen it or not. "Nice work, Spencer. Especially finding that zipper."

"Mmhm."

His brows furrowed, what the hell was wrong with him? Lassiter's eyes did a quick one over on Shawn's body, noting that he didn't see any blood or bruises – new ones anyway – and wondered if it was just shock. "Hey, Spencer, stay with me."

"M' fine, just... working up some courage here."

"Courage for what?" It was then Lassiter's eyes caught Shawn's right hand, one end was still around his wrist, the other dangling in the sand, closed. It was still closed.

It clicked in his head, finally, that Shawn hadn't found the zipper. Considering the amount of pain he seemed to be in, he must have dislocated his thumb on his left hand to get through the cuffs. That's what hurt him when we were under... Lassiter thought to himself. The courage he was looking for, was to be able to pop it back in before any permanent damage set it.

"Spencer, let me see your hand." Shawn eyed him, wanting to put up a fight, but deciding against it and showed him. It was swollen and a little purple, at least he thought it was purple, the moonlight was a horrible thing to go by. "You need to hurry up and get it back in that socket."

"That's the plan."

"Do you know how?"

"Yeah, it's... just been a long time since I was in cuffs and had to do this." Shawn scratched his brow with his uninjured hand, inadvertently smacking himself in the face with the empty cuff and yelped. Lassiter tried hard not to laugh. "It was easy to do when our lives was in danger, but now..." He trailed off, Lassiter knew what he meant.

"Keep talking. Tell me the asinine story about how you and Guster set up a fake psychic detective agency."

"Well, it all began on a clear and sunny day – " Shawn mocked gasped, his right hand tight on his left, "Oh, I see what you did there Detective. Almost got me."

The detective glanced along the coastline, wondering if back-up were ever going to come, "Did I now."

"Right. Gus and I didn't set up a fake psychic detective agency," He smiled, and Lassiter raised his brows in question, "We set up a real psychic detective agency."

"What's the difference?"

"It's not fake." Wording the statement differently and admitting that the agency was real, and nothing about the 'psychicness' of it, ensured the scowling reaction from Lassiter he was hoping for. Guess it was now or never, he should do it while he was still amused, maybe the pain would – he let out a howl of pain as gripped his thumb in his hand, shoving it quickly back into place.

Guess not.

"Breathe, Spencer."

Shawn nodded numbly, willing himself to not feel the pain coursing through his hand, as he reached over and grabbed Lassiter's tie, loosening it, "Need to borrow this." He replied to the other mans, "What the hell?"

He pulled it over Lassiter's head, despite his protests, quickly undid the knot with his teeth and right hand, and then wrapped it around his hand as a makeshift bandage, the pain subsiding a bit as he did so. "That should keep for a bit."

Silence settled over them and Shawn breathed deeply. He'd almost died, again. Something he was used to by now. At least this time he had been able to do something about it, and save Lassiter's life. It was probably an odd time to wonder this, but it sprang to his mind almost immediately the moment he realized he and Lassiter were safe. How did said man feel towards him?

"Spencer."

"Hey Lassie," Shawn spoke, an ill attempt to cover up his surprise, "This is just like Titanic, except you're Leonardo DiCaprio and I'm Kate Winslet. And we both lived."

Lassiter's brows knitted together as he took in that information, and tilted his head. "This isn't anything like Titanic."

"Your car sunk, the Titanic that it was, and we escaped it. Only..." Shawn's eyes widened, "Only you didn't die."

"Yes, but... Stop that." Shawn was leaning forward, his face suddenly close to Lassiter's. "Get out of my face, Spencer."

Shawn ignored him and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Lassiter's mouth, who pulled away from him like he had been burned, he wouldn't be fooled again.

"What the hell...?" Shawn moved closer to him, now on his knees in front of him, between his legs; far too close for Lassiter's liking. "Get away from me, Spencer!"

Another kiss was placed against the curve of his jaw; soft, tender, wet. A flash of hazel eyes skirted past his vision as he watched Shawn lean down, using the crown of his head to push Lassiter back a bit, Shawn's good hand working at the button his pants, which he did a little too well with just one hand he thought.

"Spencer!" Lassiter cried out as he felt that same hand reach into his pants and he yelped, pushing himself backwards slightly, landing on his arms. He propped himself up as well as he could on his forearms and glared at the top of the younger mans head, "Spencer get off me, and get me out of these cuffs, right now."

He was going... Shawn was going to... Give him exactly what he wanted. Exactly what he was thinking about while they were in the car. Something he wanted so bad that impending doom couldn't stop him from thinking about it. And here he was trying to get out of it.

Because it can't happen.

Shawn's eyes rose to meet his, and well, wasn't this just awkward. Lassiter laying partially on his back propped up by his forearms, in cuffs, his dick free for the world to see, with Shawn perched above him, his injured hand laying gingerly against his left thigh. It was like a set up for a really bad movie, or at least, a really great porno.

"Do you want me to stop? Just..." He swallowed and Lassiter watched his Adam's apple bob with the action, strangely curious because Shawn was never nervous around him. It was an interesting sight and just maybe, Shawn was human after all, "I'm not... I'm not trying... I just... I wasn't lying before. I was just surprised that... I could, me of all people, could do that to you. I was under the impression that you hated me, but then you kissed me... and... And I would've... right there."

Shawn was rambling, clearly nervous, and he kept rambling but the words were falling on deaf ears as Lassiter watched with fascination the movement of his lips and the images started filling his head again, and dammit just why was he just sitting there and not pushing the kid off him, telling him how he was going to book him for assault. Finally he came back to reality just as Shawn was finishing up his little rambling fest.

"We don't have all day." The words surprised him the most as they came from his mouth before he even know he was speaking them.

"Are you...?" Shawn trailed off, staring at him.

Apparently he took too long to answer because Shawn then decided that his non-answer wasn't a no and seconds later he felt a hot wetness around his dick and Shawn was slowly sucking him to complete hardness, the blood rushing quickly from his head to pool into his groin almost made him dizzy. And fuck was he right earlier, the man had a talented tongue, his dick was painfully hard in a matter of minutes and Shawn was going at him like one of his favourite frozen, pineapple flavoured popcicles. The indecent sounds Shawn was making as he licked and sucked him drove him mad, and Lassiter hadn't had a decent blow job in... an embarrassingly long time. College days if he remembered correctly, but then again, he could barely remember much of anything, let alone his own name.

Too much, too much, it'd been such a long time, he didn't think he could – oh there was that hitch and his body tightened, going rigid, for a moment he felt embarrassed he was – then Shawn swallowed him whole and he didn't care.

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna..." Lassiter strained and Shawn sucked hard one last time, moving his mouth all the way to the tip and stopped. Shawn's hand was at his hip, immobilizing him, taking away his ability to buck his hips toward that mouth, with surprising strength, that fucking mouth was such a tease. "Spencer... what – what are you doing?"

The tip of that sinful tongue peeked out from between those lips and licked him once, making things way hotter than they should've been, making him way closer to coming than he should've been, "Hmm?"

"Gotdammit, Spencer!"

"Yes?" He hadn't move his lips this whole time, each word and breath a slight caress or vibration along his erection, a sweet torture in which he didn't know what he was turned on more by, the actual blow job or Shawn's mouth.

Shawn removed his hand from his hip and began to work him gently, slowly, agonizingly slow and smirked at him, it was that mouth, it was definitely that mouth, and he wanted that mouth. Lassiter groaned as Shawn leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his abdomen once more, and made his way up his chest.

If he hadn't been so distracted he would've noticed that Shawn had his mouth on his. Fuck, that mouth! Lassiter tilted his head back to give him better access as they kissed and he could taste himself on the mans lips but he didn't care because then he was tasting Shawn and it was exciting, different, fresh.

He thought the man would taste like pineapples, but he didn't, it was something different entirely, a taste he couldn't place but was decidedly Shawn – Shawn's Taste – a taste he would market if he had cared to share him with anyone else. Would he do that? A thought jolted him back to the present, what happens after this? Could he go back to normal?

Teeth bit his lip gently and tugged, bringing him back into the moment; hazel eyes shown up at him. "Where'd you go?" said softly. Shawn licked his lips, then Lassiter dipped his head back down to kiss him gently, "You know, usually, I like this the other way around." His voice sincere, hinting at so many possibilities, and just the mere thought of their positions reversed caused his breath to hitch. Shawn leaned forward again, his eyes quickly darting upward to meet his, his breath just ghosting over Lassiter's own lips, and for fucks sake he would probably never say the words out loud, but gotdamn was Shawn beautiful in this moment, he made a decision that no, he would not share this. This was his, he was going to take it, and keep it.

"Fuck, Spencer, you're mine." He closed the distance between himself and Shawn, kissing him hard; felt the other smile under his assault, the action causing him to groan softly. Shawn's hand quickened its pace and Lassiter swallowed, unable to concentrate any longer, eyes closed, his forehead pressed against the other mans, lips brushing against each other has he panted against Shawn's own partially open mouth. "Fuck..."

Shawn captured Lassiter's bottom lip between his teeth, gently tugging it, running his tongue along the top before sucking on it, causing Lassiter's brows to knit close together, "Spencer..."

"Yes?"

"Please..."

"Please what?"

"Don't make me beg." Lassiter swallowed, his mouth dry, he was so close, so damn close. He didn't care how dirty his thoughts were getting, he wanted that mouth on him, wanted him to swallow him whole, swallow everything he had to offer; his body, his soul, everything.

But he couldn't bring himself to ask, and if this was as close as he got, he'd take it. The younger man planted an open mouthed kiss against his lips, "But I want you to."

"Prove you're psychic." He breathed into Shawn's mouth.

Lassiter felt those lips turn upwards against his own as Shawn smirked, and did just that.

His head dipped downward again, capturing the tip of heated flesh in a tease, his tongue flicking out to run along it. He looked up slightly to find Lassiter looking down at him, watching with rapt attention, his breathing heavy and fast. With his eyes still locked upon the detectives, he slowly sank his mouth around him and Lassiter inhaled sharply, his eyes closing as his hips bucked upwards, head lolling backwards, "Fuck, Spencer, yes..."

He moved his mouth quickly, his tongue gliding up and down his length with the movement and Lassiter found he just couldn't hold back any longer. "Don't stop... Don't..." He was grateful for the fact that if, out of any moment Shawn Spencer could've taken, to listen to him for once, it was this one.

Lassiter was dimly aware he was babbling; broken words of expletives and encouragement tumbling from his mouth as he concentrated on that tongue that promised him oblivion after dragging him through hell. Shawn's tongue made good on that promise as his breath caught in his throat and his eyes crushed tightly together, his body stilled and he was coming, mouth open, Shawn's name on his lips.

Lassiter felt the smile on his lips before he could stop it, a heavy breath passed through him as he tried to calm himself, his chest heaving with effort. He managed to open his eyes to find Shawn staring at him with rapt attention, eyes wide and he hissed as he felt his tongue glide languidly along his already sensitive tip. Shawn gave one last hard suck before withdrawing himself, Lassiter's dick falling free with an audible pop. "Lassie... "

He managed an inquiring, "Hm?" while still trying to control his breathing, watching the younger man through half-lidded eyes. Shawn stared at him wide-eyed, in a way he only did when they had a case and he found something particularly juicy to share. He gave a slightly shy smile as he moved in closer, and if Lassiter didn't need a refractory period to get it up a second time, he would be asking for another very hot blow job.

"You smile when you come. You never smile." Shawn's face was in his face, studying him, the aforementioned smile now already long gone. Lassiter frowned, it was kind of weird he guessed, no one ever mentioned it to him before, then again, no one paid much attention to his face as Shawn did. He couldn't help it, his lips moved on their own, and sometimes, as he came, the feeling was so good, he smiled a bit. Never quite understood it himself, and he really hoped the younger man wasn't going to tease him about it. "I never would've guessed. That's just so..."

"Spencer..."

"It's kind of hot, Lassie." Shawn grinned, tucking him back into his pants and closing them as properly as he could, considering he had no zipper. The tips of his ears burned at the compliment and before Lassiter could reply, the younger man kissed him again, lightly on the lips. They remained that way for a few moments, Lassiter snickering inwardly at how romantic this would've been at any other time, kissing languidly under the moonlight. Leave it to Shawn to make it as abnormal as possible. Suddenly Shawn pulled back, head lifting upwards, peering out into the distance. "Oh sweet. Just in time!"

"What? What is?"

"Dude, Jules!"

"O'Hara?" Lassiter said in disbelief, his head whipping back to look over his shoulder in the direction Shawn was looking in, half expecting to see his partner to be standing behind him. "What the hell are you talking about – ?" He heard it a few seconds later, before he saw it, the sirens in the distance, steadily getting louder and closer., "How in the hell...?"

"She was totally tracking my GPS on my phone. Must've gotten worried when it shut off due to it, you know, being submerged in water and all – aw man!" Shawn whined, "Dude, they are totally not going to replace my phone for water damage!"

"Shit. Spencer." Lassiter turned to him, quickly, frustration and worry etched onto his face. "Look, we can't..."

Shawn was looking at him again, a half smile formed on his face; a look Lassiter decided he didn't care for, "Your secret is safe with me. I won't tell anyone. I'm really good at keeping secrets; even better at being one." He scooted away from Lassiter who gave him a pained look, sitting back on his haunches and crossed his heart, "Stick a needle in my eye."

"That's not – "

He didn't get a chance to finish as Gus' car rolled down onto the bank as well as another unmarked police car, stopping just a few feet behind them. "Guys!" Shawn yelled, shielding his eyes with his injured hand. "Lights please!"

"Shawn!" Gus cried, hopping out of his car, nearly stumbling down the bank towards him, "Shawn! Shawn, I'm going to kill you!"

"Come on buddy, I can't take two death threats! Not twice in one night!"

Gus crouched down next to him, immediately unwrapping and inspecting his injured hand, "You owe me man. You know I hate trying to hide this stuff from your dad!"

"Aww, Gus! Tell me you didn't tell my dad!"

"Shawn. You know I have the resolve of a wet square of toilet paper when it comes to your father."

"Gus!"

"He is not happy with you right now."

"Is he ever?"

"It's no wonder when you keep pulling stupid stunts like this!"

"Gus, don't be a prickly pine cone in a forest of acrobats."

"This wrap is terrible! And a tie, Shawn?"

"Dude, it's all I had!" Shawn hissed as Gus carefully replaced the tie, wrapping it gently, as a proper makeshift bandage this time, the pain severely lessened. "Have I ever told you how awesome your first aid skills are?"

"You know it." Gus grinned, the two quickly performing a fist-bump, "How the hell did you even dislocate your thumb anyway?"

"Getting free of handcuffs, duh! It was easy! Badabraca!"

"It's abracadabra, Shawn."

"I've heard it both ways."

"Carlton!" Lassiter looked up to see Juliet and McNab standing beside him, and he was grateful for the distraction from the two bickering children. She knelt down behind him and he heard the rustle of keys, "Oh my God, are you alright?"

There was a few clicks and his hands were finally free, instinctively he brought them to his front to rub his wrists, "I'm fine. Good job, O'Hara." He stood after a moment, legs wobbly on the sand and fixed his clothes, his partner following suit, "How did you find us?"

Juliet looked him over once, unsure on whether or not to believe him, McNab spoke up, "Shawn's phone has a GPS we've been tracking. When we lost the signal, we came looking for you guys."

"And McPherson?"

"We caught him on the way to finding you guys. He gave up the exact location of where he left you. Sure made it easier to find you. That GPS thing isn't so great at actually pinpointing." McNab offered.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Juliet asked again.

"I'm fine." Lassiter ground out, "Spencer needs a doctor. The idiot dislocated his thumb."

"How did he manage to do that?" Juliet looked at Shawn, who was busy swatting away Gus' hand, who was still fussing over his injured hand while leading him toward the car, "What did he get you into?"

"He did well, O'Hara."

She gave him a look of surprise in the fact that Lassiter had actually praised Shawn out loud, "Must've been some job."

Lassiter's head whirled around to face his partner, "Excuse me?"

"The job... Shawn was working on?"

"Right." He went to straighten his tie when he remembered Shawn had taken it, his hand fell to his side, defeated, "Let's just go home."

The other two nodded and followed behind him, giving each other worried looks. Off in the distance, they could hear Gus yelling at Shawn to get into Juliet's car because he was soaking wet, and this was a company car, dammit!

---

Two weeks. It had been two whole weeks and four days since he had last heard or seen from Shawn.

He knew he should be grateful, to not have the idiots spastic self around, letting his officers get some real police work done.

And yet, he couldn't think straight, he was distracted by the lack of Shawn being around. It was just so damn quiet.

He wondered idly about what the kid was doing, probably at some smoothie place, or playing some video game with Gus. Or avoiding him. He rubbed his eyes between his thumb and forefinger, most likely it was definitely avoiding him. He shouldn't have let Shawn do that which he should not think about because he was getting half-hard already in an effort to not think about it. Dammit.

But why would Shawn be avoiding him? Why wasn't he in here lording over him about how he gave him an amazing blow job, trying to use it to get what he wanted from him? No, no he couldn't think that. Shawn was a shady person but serious blackmail wasn't on the list of things he'd thought the other man would do.

The kid did say he was good at keeping secrets, and obviously he was, since he had fooled everyone into thinking he was a psychic, which he still didn't believe, even if he had "proved" himself that night. And... oh. Now he remembered, he also had said he was even better at being one. Dammit.

Was Shawn avoiding him for his sake? Did he think he was worried about people finding out? Well, of course he was, but only because of how and when it took place. He didn't want people to think he'd normally give into his sexual desires while on a case, even if it were the end of one. There were extenuating circumstances; he was in handcuffs, and they had almost died, Shawn had saved his life, and he really couldn't think straight with a wet Shawn between his thighs, ready and willing to give him exactly what he had been wanting.

He rubbed his face tiredly, gotdammit. He had to find the kid and set things straight before it got any more awkward between them, and hopefully he could figure out his own feelings before he found him.

After going around Shawn's usual haunts; the smoothie place, his favourite Chinese take out place, even that Mexican restaurant with the... the frito things he liked so much; and then finally the Taco Hut, which he had used his badge to get them to let him on the roof just to see if the idiot really did go up there, Lassiter found himself at the door to the fake psychic's office. He entered without preamble to find Gus at his desk, typing furiously at whatever was on his laptop. Shawn was at his own desk, laptop open, but grinning widely, "Come on, Gus! How do you blank out on movie refs? That's like, our thing!"

"Unlike you, Shawn, I have obligations."

"We were kids when that movie came out!"

"I had obligations then too, Shawn. Remember the spelling bee you ruined for me? The one I had been studying for, for months? Besides, you went without me. Jackass." He looked up to glare at his friend, but his expression turned to surprise when he saw Lassiter in the doorway, Shawn following his gaze. "Detective Lassiter, what brings you in today? Get convicted of murder again?"

"I wasn't indicted nor convicted. You guys proved that I was innocent, which I am."

"Shawn proved that. I'm still not so sure."

"If I were going to kill someone, Guster, it wouldn't be in a building full of cops and psychic detectives. With my extensive knowledge of forensics and having a history of solving murder cases, you'd think I would pull it off in a less obvious way."

"Psychic detective." Shawn chimed in. The two looked at him questioningly, "You said 'psychic detectives'. There's only one; me. Gus is Magic Head."

Lassiter grit his teeth, "Fine. A psychic detective. Regardless, my statement still stands."

Gus nodded approvingly, "Point taken. What can we do for you?"

"I wanted to speak with, Spencer."

"With Shawn? What did he do now?" He quickly glared at his friend, "What did you do now, Shawn?"

"Dude, do you know how many times a day you say my name, Gus?"

"Shawn."

"No, like, seriously. That's... that's like the eighty-fifth time today. And I'm being completely serious." Shawn said, looking between him and Lassiter, "Eighty-five. Really?"

"Shawn."

"Eighty-six."

"Shawn!"

"Eighty-seven. Do you just like hearing my name come out of your mouth? I can find much better ways to get you to say it." Shawn wiggled his brows, giving him a seductive leer and Lassiter fought the urge to glare at him.

Gus bristled and stood up, slamming his laptop down, "If you would act like an adult sometimes, I wouldn't have to!" He grabbed his laptop and headed toward the door, brushing past Lassiter, "Shawn."

"Eighty-eight!" Shawn yelled after Gus as he left the building, the door slamming behind him. He turned to Lassiter, "My own father calls my name less than he does."

"Oh, I highly doubt that."

"Yeah, you're probably right. It was just the easiest way to get him out." Lassiter nodded in understanding, "So, what's up?"

Lassiter's hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously, now that he had Shawn alone enough to talk to him, he didn't know what to say. He guessed he should start with the most obvious and work his way from there, "You haven't been around the station."

"I haven't. Has your solve rate gone down that much in my absence that you sook me out? Seeked? Sookith?"

"Sought." Lassiter corrected through grit teeth, adding quickly before the younger man could make any claims of having heard it both ways, "We can solve cases without you, Spencer." Why did he come here again?

"Right. They just take longer. I'm surprised you noticed."

"Of course I noticed." He added quickly, "I'm a detective."

"Debatable. Anyway, I figured I'd give you some room for a bit without having my face around to remind you of things I'm sure you're trying to not think about."

"It hasn't been really on my mind." He lied, realizing only afterward it was probably the wrong thing to say when he saw the quick flash of hurt in the younger mans eyes.

Shawn dragged his fingertips along the ridge of his desk idly as he stood, moving to stand in front of is desk, eyes everywhere but Lassiter, "Oh, just making sure I didn't tell then? I promised I wouldn't. Didn't even tell, Gus. I told you, I'm really good at keeping secrets."

"That's not what I – " Lassiter stumbled over his words, cutting himself off, irritated with himself that he was letting this all go downhill so fast. "Look, I just don't think what happened..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. It's not like he regretted it. But... should it have never have happened? Should they just pretend it never happened? Go on with their lives, the danger of it happening again always hovering in the background? Make something out of it? Maybe start dating? Lassiter bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to not chuckle, imagining the two going on a date; it would be horrible the two of them not being the kind who dated.

"Oh, man, are you having a heterosexual freakout? I totally can't fix that, but I'm sure I can find someone who can." Shawn deflected, watching as the man before him was clearly unable to gather his thoughts, "Priests I hear are great with that kind of thing."

"We just really need to talk. Are you done doing nothing around here? Do you..." He glanced at his watch before looking back to Shawn, "Do you want to go get something to eat?

Shawn comically inhaled sharply, eyes going wide in mock surprise, hand to his chest, "The drag me out into a public place so I won't make a scene as you let me down gently routine. A little not too subtle, even for you Lassie. Look, can we not drag this out? I won't bring it up if you don't. I'm pretty sure you don't have to give me the talk."

"The talk?"

"The 'Look, we're just frienemies, what happened was just a mistake and I'd like to keep existing together on the pretense of nothing happened.' talk. I've heard it before, I know how it goes, and if we could both just drop it, we can get past it quicker. Ripping the band-aid off fast and of the like. Chalk it up to emotional stress and almost dying."

The small waver in the young man's voice made Lassiter's stomach tighten and he shook his head, "That's not why I came down here."

"Right. Then why did you come down here?" Shawn rolled his eyes, hooking his thumbs onto his pockets, "Miss me?"

Lassiter didn't hesitate, his mouth forming the word before he could think better of it, "Yes."

Shawn was taken aback, surprise on his face, "Oh. Well, that's... That is actually not what I was expecting."

"You don't need to be one." He said quickly, stepping towards Shawn, his mind finally settling on what he wanted. "A secret that is. I don't want to do that to you."

"Okay, the spirits are just not with me today, what the hell are you saying?"

"Spencer." Lassiter reached out toward the young man, hesitantly, unsure of where to touch him, before finally settling on placing his hand on his arm, "I want this."

Brows knitted together in confusion, his head cocked to the side, "This what?" Lassiter glared at him, lips pursed, "This? Like, an 'us' this?"

"Yeah."

"Man, this is just not my day. The spirits are just all a flutter today and I can't seem to pick through your meaning."

"Spare me." Lassiter's hand trailed to cup his elbow, pulling Shawn forward to him, who complied warily. Inhaling he could smell the mixture of whatever mixed fruit smelling concoction he was wearing, with a small hint of whatever sugar laced sticky dessert he had probably had earlier in the day. Lassiter slid his hand beneath his other arm, along his side, letting it rest against the small of his back and urged him forward again. "I mean it."

Before Shawn could speak, Lassiter leaned down, watching his eyes flutter close before his own and pressed his lips against his in a small kiss. Moments later he pulled away, and Shawn stared at him wordlessly – Lassiter idly thought to take down the date and time for it was the second time he made Shawn Spencer speechless – he brought his hand up from his elbow to cup Shawn's face, "Okay?" The younger man managed a nod before Lassiter kissed him again, and for a few moments, nothing but the sound of their lips together echoed in the silence.

"Shawn! Shawn!" Gus' incredulous voice suddenly interrupted them, and they pulled apart quickly, just in time to watch him storm back out, laptop up to shield him from seeing any more, slamming the door closed once more behind him.

"That's ninety, buddy!"

Lassiter grinned as Shawn turned back to him, his hands pushing inside the front of the his coat and the detective watched him in amused confusion, "What are you doing, Spencer?"

"He'll be gone for a while." Shawn smiled – a genuine soft smile that made Lassiter feel a little funny in his belly.

"And?" He moved closer to Shawn, pressing him against his desk.

The detective felt his belt loosen as the psychic kept grinning, "I just wanna see you smile, Lassie."

~fin