Can You Read My Birthday Thoughts? PART ONE
Author's note: My second Psych fic, but I'm still working on my character voices and one not so please be gentle
"Tell me what it is you want again?" Lassiter asked, staring at the list in his hand.
Shawn narrowed his eyes at the paper, and then back at Lassiter. "Which one? There's a variety of items and wishes on that case-note file."
"Case-note fil...?" Lassiter flipped it over and groaned. "You stole this off of my desk to write your birthday list on?" He frowned.
"Stole is such a harsh term," Shawn sighed with a casual shrug. "I prefer borrow with no intention of returning."
"That's stealing," Lassiter told him.
"I've heard it both ways." Shawn looked at the list again. "So which one, Handsome-pants?"
"This one-" Lassiter stabbed his index finger into the sheet. "Right here. Number Seven."
Shawn smiled. "Ah. Lucky Seven." He formed a serious expression. "A stripper pole."
Lassiter stared at him again. "A stripper pole."
"That's right."
"You want a stripper pole for your birthday?" Lassiter continued to stare, both a the list and at Shawn.
Shawn rolled his eyes slightly. "Come on, Lassy! A stripper pole! Do you know how great I am on one of those?" He glanced at Gus who was nearby sorting through files the Chief had given them. "Tell him, Gus."
Gus frowned. "Are you talking about elementary school on the playground?"
"I'm talking about when I worked at Hoity-Toity, the strip club," Shawn said, rolling his eyes.
"You worked there for two hours as a bus boy in the kitchen," Gus said, frowning.
"That pole was my best friend after hours," Shawn retorted. "Listen, Carlton, this would be so awesome for our bedroom-"
"Our bedroom?" Lassiter raised his eyebrows. "You mean my bedroom."
Shawn rolled his eyes. "My toothbrush is in the bathroom and my jeans and shirts are hanging in the closet-OUR bedroom."
At that moment, Jules walked over, looking between them. She glanced at Gus. "What's going on?"
At the same time, Gus and Shawn said, "Shawn/I want a stripper pole for his/my birthday" and Lassiter said, "Nothing."
"A stripper pole?" Jules' eyes widened. "Carlton, I'm surprised. I knew you were a risk-taker, but still-"
"Not me!" Lassiter groaned, considering the idea of strangling Shawn for ever blabbering about their being together. Aside from Gus, they'd manage to keep it from everybody for nearly four months.
"I've always wondered about what your bedtime behavior entails," Jules said, hiding a smile the best she could. She looked expectantly at Shawn who barely had time to open his mouth before Lassiter covered it with his hand.
"You know Lassiter's not going to get you a stripper pole, right?" Gus said as he and Shawn entered the office.
"Gus, don't be a bad fanfiction," Shawn said, heading straight for the fridge to retrieve the left over pineapple pound cake. He ate it standing straight from the container. "I don't expect him to."
"Then why ask for it?" Gus' brows furrowed.
Shawn stopped chewing and there was a flicker of hesitation in his answer before he said simply, "Just because."
Gus looked anything but convinced. "He's not kinky enough in bed."
"I wouldn't put it that way," Shawn muttered. "And why would you want to hear about that anyway?"
"Shawn, since high school I've heard it, whether I wanted to or not, and you never once asked me if I wanted to," Gus reminded him. "And it's not like I'm asking for graphic detail."
"Would you like the graphic detail?" Shawn asked, half jokingly.
"Look, I'm dating Willow now," Gus said, getting some leftover pudding from the fridge. "I know about trying new things after hours."
" 'After hours'?" Shawn pointed his fork at him. "Really, Gus?"
Gus gave him his classic, cool-gaze stare. "Willow likes to use black lights and edible body paint."
"Lassie's totally insecure," Shawn blurted out, setting his plate on the countertop. "I think it stems from his divorce, but he's perpetually nervous and always asking if what he's doing is 'okay' or 'acceptable'."
"So buy a shower curtain and some whipped topping." Gus shrugged. "I don't think a stripper pole is going to make much difference. Besides, what if you just ended up looking stupid on it?"
"Gus, I was a dance manager senior year," Shawn retorted.
"No you weren't. You just skipped interior design and hung out in the dance hall seventh period," Gus corrected him.
"I did do that strip dance for that one bachelorette party," Shawn said.
"When you were a waiter at Joe's Crab Shack and waited until the manager left?" Gus shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Look, I have a better idea. One that doesn't involve tacky resources."
"Lassie," Shawn said the second his boyfriend opened the door. "Don't get me a stripper pole."
"I wasn't planning on it," Lassiter replied, smiling sarcastically. He moved aside to let Shawn in.
"Smells delicious," Shawn said, inhaling deeply and exhaling dramatically. He placed his hand to his head. "Let me guess. Jerk Chicken."
"Spaghetti," Lassiter replied.
"Still awesome." Shawn moved into the kitchen and began sampling food on the stove. "So when do we eat?"
"Pasta's almost done," Lassiter said. He looked around awkwardly. "Do you really not want a stripper pole anymore?"
Shawn looked up from eating a spoonful of sauce. Behind Lassiter, he honed in on the hallway closet-the door not closing all the way. The corner of a cardboard box poked out. He looked back at Lassiter, putting on his best disappointed face.
"I guess not," he said sullenly. "I mean, I did, but everyone acted like it was stupid."
"Well, it is your birthday," Lassiter muttered. "Who the hell cares how stupid it is? I mean, they should expect it of you."
To Be Continued...