AN: I've had this scene playing in my head for weeks. Also, we, the Shassiekins (that's our name now…) have a forum! Since eats links, here's the url (just delete the spaces) http:/ shassieloveletters. forumotion. ca/
So yes…join us…we has pineapples.
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Shawn didn't know why he was doing it. He just knew he had to. The faux psychic was leaning against Lassiter's desk, hands fisted in the lapels of the detective's suit jacket, and he was kissing him. Lassiter was kissing him back, hands on Shawn's hips and holding him against him. His tongue flicked against Shawn's lower lip, and Shawn opened his mouth slightly to give him access. Everything was going so well, and then Shawn remembered he had to breathe. He broke the kiss, just long enough to get some oxygen in his lungs. But he stopped, unprepared for what was to happen. Yes, Shawn would have fully expected to have Lassie come to his senses and cold cock him (no pun intended). That would have been normal. Instead, Lassiter took that moment to talk.
"Shawn," he said in a pained whisper. "We can't."
"But," Shawn replied, his voice just as quiet. "Why not?" When Shawn opened his eyes, meeting Lassie's oh-so-blues, his own heart broke.
"Because," Lassiter said, the naked pain and heartache in his eyes echoed in his voice. "You're with Juliet."
For once, Shawn couldn't respond. His hands fell from Lassie's chest, and the detective took a step back, taking in a shaking breath before walking past him, not saying another word. Shawn didn't watch to see if he looked back. He was too busy dealing with his world crashing down as his heart shattered.
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AN: Do you want this into a full story?