Untitled: Shawn/Gus
Burton Guster was a creature of habit. Shawn felt the corners of his mouth twitch of their own accord. He hid in the neatly maintained foliage in front of Gus' window. He could've closed his eyes and he would've been able to tell Gus' nightly routine. He came in and set his keys and the mail on the small table. He then removed his coat and hung it neatly on the back of the couch. Not a thing out of place and every act in a meticulous, annoyingly well set order. He was prepared for tomorrow. Which would make this more complicated and aggravating.
Shawn sighed and climbed onto the window sill. He maneuvered his way around the side of the house and leapt onto the concrete landing in front of the door. He braced himself and rapped twice on the wooden door.
Gus opened the door cautiously, unsure of what he'd find on the other side. Upon seeing Shawn, he ducked his head and tried to slow his heart rate. "Shawn." He said with finality. Images of Shawn started to reel in his mind, pulled from the recesses of his brain.
Shawn wasn't supposed to be wearing a pristine, neatly ironed collared shirt. He should be wearing a rugged blue, plaid button-down hastily and incorrectly buttoned. His face shouldn't have been grave and pale with worry. He was supposed to be flushed with adrenaline, lips bruised and shiny. Gus shook off a chill as he remembered that he shouldn't know what those lips tasted like.
"Gus." Shawn breathed, forgetting what to do with his hands. He coughed and tried again. "Gus. I know it's been a long time-"
Gus frowned. "A long time? Try four years. Four years without a single note or phone call. After you promised not to do this to me again. But I guess I should know by now not to take your promises seriously." He quirked an eyebrow, leaning against the wall. He still hadn't asked Shawn to come in. Almost like he wasn't welcome in Gus' life anymore. And why should he be? After what he did.
Shawn kept silent for a moment, staring at his hands. He was itching, aching to touch Gus. He wanted to end the space between them and run his palms against the solid heat of Gus' chest. He wanted to crawl inside and never comeback out. Attach himself permanently to Gus forever, or until he made them both sick. But he couldn't do that now; maybe not ever again. Even if this goes according to plan.
"We have to go." Shawn said firmly, leaving no room for argument. He pushed past Gus into the house and to the back, where he knew the bedroom was.
"Shawn?" Gus called, hurriedly following Shawn. He knew better than to question the way Shawn knew where everything was located. "Shawn, what do you mean 'we have to go'? Shawn? Shawn! What the hell?" He grasped Shawn's bicep, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach as Shawn made a pained sound.
Shawn avoided Gus altogether, shaking out of the stunned man's grip and going to Gus' closet. He pulled out a duffel bag and started to pack up Gus' clothes. He took as much as he could grab, figuring he'd just replace whatever wouldn't fit.
"Shawn!" Gus' obvious frustration made Shawn nostalgic for the days when the people he surrounded himself with were easy to read and not trying to kill him at every turn. When someone told him they loved him and meant it. When a simple twitch of a lip was just a twitch and not a reason to stab a man in cold blood.
Gus moved to place his hand over Shawn's on the nightstand, effectively stopping Shawn's movements. He frowned and a panicked feeling started to take over as he realized Shawn was packing his inhaler. Shawn breathed in deep and slow, remembering what it was like when Gus didn't look at him so distrustfully. When he'd held Gus' trust and understanding without having done anything.
"What are we-you running from?" Gus demanded and Shawn didn't lift his gaze, instead fingering one of Gus' shirts. He shook his head as he eyed the mended button, the second from the bottom.
After realizing Gus wasn't going to go willingly, Shawn looked up, pleading with his eyes. "Please. Can we just go?" And four, maybe three years ago, that tone would've made Gus go along with whatever he asked, unhealthy or unsafe. But this wasn't three years ago.
"What's going on with you?" Gus never removed his hand and Shawn wished he would because it was burning.
Shawn shook his head, shoulders aching in their tension. "We have to go-"
"Shawn-" Gus started to object when Shawn cut him off.
"We have to go. Now, or you die."
In an action movie, a line like that would get the single mother to reluctantly grab her kids and race out to the SUV conveniently parked in the driveway with the keys inside. But this wasn't an action movie and Shawn didn't have the pecs and amazingly timed puns.
Gus still bitched for a solid thirty minutes and eventually Shawn had to feign illness to get Gus out to the car where he proceeded to shove Gus into the backseat. He dodged questions about how he'd gotten the sleek, black sedan and just what exactly the automatic, restraints in the back of his car were used for.
After an hour of threats with words like "police", "Henry" and "kidnapping", Gus finally sat back silently in the seat. After an hour and a half of driving, Gus dozed off, the familiar sighs of breath comforting Shawn. Lulling him into the delusion that he and Gus were still best friends. That the last four years never happened.
Gus woke up in an unknown state. He was hot and his cell phone was almost dead. He sighed inwardly, knowing Shawn hadn't though to pack his charger. He wasn't really surprised Shawn had given him his cell phone. He didn't bother to check the SIM card, knowing Shawn had exchanged it with another.
He opened his mouth to speak when his stomach growled. "I heard that." Shawn interjected, eyed on the deserted highway. "I wanted to stop fifteen minutes ago but you looked so tired."
Gus wanted to ask when he'd decided it was okay to care again but decided against it. He climbed into the front seat. "What time is it?"
Shawn frowned and glanced at his phone. "About eight, here."
"Where is 'here'?" Gus asked, studying the road for signs. They appeared to be driving through desert, a few buildings here and there. Nothing looked familiar and Shawn didn't have a map out anywhere or a GPS system.
"The edge of Nevada." Shawn said calmly.
"How fast did you drive?" He asked incredulously. He looked at the speedometer weaving between one-twenty and one-thirty. "Shawn, do you know how fast you're going?"
"Not fast enough." He answered sternly.
"Right." Gus crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat, exposing the vulnerable expanse of his neck. Shawn remembered what the skin there tasted like, what Gus sounded like with his mouth pressed up nice and hot to the shell of Shawn's ear. What it felt like to go to sleep in sheets soaked in the scent of Gus. He swallowed and told himself to focus.
"Seriously, when can I go home?" Gus asked, sounding calmer than he would've three years ago. "I have a final report due Friday and I can't afford to not be there."
Shawn rolled his eyes. "Tell him your doggy kidnapped you and took you to Nevada. And when that doesn't work, bat those pretty eyes of yours and shed a tear."
"I'm not you. I don't use my body to get what I want." He responded, pretending not to notice the stiffening of Shawn's shoulders.
"Just letting it all out, aren't you?" He sighed, tired of fighting with Gus. "Gus, if we're going to talk about that, can it wait until I'm not scared shitless we won't make it past the state border in time?"
"Fine, where are we going?"
"If I tell you it's one of Henry's houses, will you feel better?" At this point, Shawn wasn't sure why he cared.
"Only slightly." He looked at Shawn. "Is he going to be there?"
"He doesn't know, exactly. But I'm a big boy now and I think I can take care of myself." He choked and grew silent.
"Then why did I have to come?"
"I wanted company. Now just shut up and look pretty." Gus didn't say anything for the rest of the night. When Shawn stopped at a hotel in the middle of nowhere, Gus felt guilty for starting the fight. He knew deep down Shawn wouldn't have done this for a dumb reason. He'd 'kidnapped' Gus several times when his parents started going through the divorce. Whenever he felt like he was losing something, he latched on the person closes to him. When his mom left, that person was Gus. Gus had been that person for so long it felt like he'd always been.
Shawn grabbed their room keys and started up the stairs. Gus wondered vaguely how Shawn had paid for this. Gus still had his wallet safely tucked in his back pocket.
He'd gotten a room with two queens, the joke not lost on his strained mind. It was only as they set their bags down on the beds that the silence between them truly started to feel daunting.