FEBRUARY 2009

You're moving close, my pulse is racing—we're getting close, yeah I can taste it
I've never done it quite like this—so slow it down now, just slow it down
The looks you give are so contagious, the way we move is so outrageous
Just let me in, wasting time—just let me in, let me in
—The Maine, "Count 'Em One, Two, Three"

Juliet planned Shawn's 30th birthday party carefully, renting a party room in one of his favorite bars/restaurants and stuffing it with all of the things that he liked—food, 80s music, people from the SBPD who thought he was amazing, junk food, pictures of his own face that showed off impressive things he'd done, snack food, his and Gus's Psych Man & Magic Head poster, and food—and although it was going to be without one thing he'd come to like an incredible amount since last summer (that would be rectified later, privately, which was probably for the best) everyone had a blast and Shawn only whined a little at his 'well advanced age'. Gus had gleefully stuck a hat with a massive, glittery "30" on it to his head, but Shawn had simply added another zero and went around calling everyone from Buzz McNab to Chief Vick "whippersnappers" and starting every other sentence with "Back in my day..."

Henry had left soon after attempting to remind Shawn of the fact that he was actually an adult and would need to step up his game when it came to his responsibilities, but Shawn had kept on his Father Time voice and said, "Young man, when you get to be my age, you'll find that those are the things in life only kept around to keep the less imaginative people from having fun and really living. Let your mind break free from these chains, let your children run wild and free—bye, Dad, thanks for the new helmet." Henry turned back incredulously, as all of the gifts were still on a table, wrapped, then rolled his eyes, threw his arms in the air—ending with a little wave—and exited.

The party was meant to end around nine-thirty, but when ten rolled around and Juliet took Shawn aside and reminded him that they were supposed to pick up Carlton from the airport at ten-thirty, she was mildly surprised when he told her to go on and pick him up herself—he and Gus were in the middle of a lengthy argument with one of the newest officers to the SBPD on the highly sensitive matter of whether Homer or Bart Simpson was the main character of the show, and he would have Gus drop him off home around the same time she would get back.

Their timing was almost perfect—Carlton's flight was even a little early, and Juliet pulled up in front of the airport just as he was coming outside. The traffic was kind, and they had only just made it inside when they heard a horn in the parking lot beep twice, a goodbye from Gus. Carlton stowed his carry-on suitcase in a corner of Juliet and Shawn's bedroom, as per usual, and settled into the armchair just as Shawn bounced into the apartment.

"Happy birthday!" he shouted, arms up, and then stopped. "Oh, wait, that's me."

"Oh, look, the dirty thirty," Carlton said, and smirked.

"Yeah, you keep laughing, Lassie," Shawn said casually, taking a drink Juliet had prepared for him and perching on the end of the couch. "It doesn't take someone with my observational skills to know how old you're going to be in a couple of weeks. But don't worry—I know someone with access to drug samples, and we can keep you in all of the tadalafil our little hearts require."

"Uh huh. Let me guess, that's Viagra?"

"Nope." Shawn grinned. "That's sildenafil."

There was a pause, and Carlton rolled his eyes. "I know you're just waiting for me to ask—"

"It's Cialis," Shawn said, proudly. "They're the same, really, I just like saying the one with 'ta da!'"

"Researching ED treatments?" Juliet asked, settling down on the sofa with her own drink. "You really need to stop going through your dad's medicine cabinet."

The horrified look on Shawn's face was worth that one. "Good job, Jules, I am now so traumatized I'm not going to enjoy any of my birthday nookie."

"Who said you were getting any?" Carlton asked. Juliet smiled into her glass as she tipped some Johnnie Walker back.

"Right, you flew most of the way across the country because you love the in-flight peanuts."

Carlton shrugged loftily and sipped his drink. "More than I love your penis."

"...okay, I set myself up for that," Shawn said. He finished his drink and set the glass on the table; then his eyes flicked over, a little suspicious. "You're not seriously telling me you're not going to do me."

"That's what I'm telling you."

"But it's my birthday! Everyone knows you're supposed to get what you want on your birthday."

Carlton motioned to the wrapped package on the coffee table. "I brought you a present."

Shawn sighed. "I know you're fucking with me."

"I told you, that's exactly what I'm not doing." He met Juliet's eyes and she had to look away so that she wouldn't smile. "Even though it's your birthday," Carlton went on. "I'm not putting my dick in you."

"Why not?" Shawn demanded.

"Reasons."

"Oh my god." Shawn slid sideways and flopped on the sofa, face down. "Stop messing with me, Lassie. I'll cry."

"No, you won't."

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to. My cake is going to get all soggy with my tears. You're a dick."

"Thought you liked that."

"Not if you don't give it to me!"

Juliet couldn't hold her smirk back any more and squeaked with the effort. Shawn looked up at her. "You didn't ask him what the reasons were," she told him.

"Fine." Shawn sat up. "What are the reasons?"

Carlton tipped his glass toward the gift on the table. "Open your present."

"I don't want it," Shawn said, his voice light but his face stubborn. "I want you to fuck me."

"That is not going to happen."

"Just open the present," Juliet said.

He looked at her again, now seeing that she knew something he didn't, and he sighed, reaching for it. "Fine. But it better not be, like, a wig or something. You can't refuse to fuck me and make fun of my still-fucked-up hair in the same day, especially not on my fucking birthday. That's a law. It was ratified and satisfied."

"Well that's just not true," Carlton said. "Scarhead."

Shawn had shaken the box and turned it around in his hands, squinting at it. "It's empty," he said, and looked uncertainly at Juliet, but she shrugged. Frowning, he started to tear the paper, then shook it again. "Empty," he said again. "Like your conscience." Carlton ignored him and refilled his drink. Shawn finished taking off the paper to reveal an Amazon box that had the flaps secured down with packing tape. He gave both Juliet and Carlton another suspicious look, then slid a finger underneath one edge and pried the box open. He looked down into it for a long moment. "I bet that was fun to explain to airport security," he said at last. "Not 'why are you traveling with what appears to be an empty box'?, but 'why are you being so mean to someone on their birthday?' Seriously." He held it up and showed Juliet, who had of course already known that the box contained air and empty threats. "Is this supposed to mean something? Is this my punishment for trying to hide his return ticket when he came to visit after I got hurt? I don't get fucked and I don't get a present?"

"Shawn," Carlton said patiently. "I'm fucking with you."

He tossed the box back onto the table. "I know. I'm chastened, now fuck me."

"Nope."

Shawn squinted at him again, and when he just looked back calmly, Shawn raised his hands. "Uncle," he said. "You win, I give. I don't get it. You admit you're screwing with me, but I don't get a present and you're not going to screw me."

Carlton smiled, pleased with his victory. "That's partly right. I did plan on giving you something. You can have it if you figure out what it is." He sipped his drink again.

"I'm honestly surprised you don't get it yet, Shawn," Juliet said.

"Really," Carlton agreed. "I thought you were real-life genius Sherlock Holmes—I already told you twice what it was."

Shawn's eyes widened. "Oh," he said quietly. "It's you, right? You're not putting your dick in me, you're not going to fuck me—it's the other way around. You're going to let me fuck you."

Carlton shrugged. "Crossed my mind."

Shawn grinned. "You're going to give me your flower?"

Juliet laughed at the offended look on Carlton's face. "Not if you call it that," he snapped.

"I'll call it anything you want," Shawn promised. He paused. "You're going back the day after tomorrow?"

"Yes, but very early."

"Very early," Juliet said. "His flight leaves at seven, and we're getting up at five and leaving almost immediately."

Shawn made a face at the early wake-up call, but he would be there to take Carlton to the airport with her, whether he sleep-dragged himself out of bed at five or just mainlined caffeine and stayed up through the night. "Okay, but that gives us all of tomorrow."

"It does." Carlton seemed to realize what he was getting at, and he snorted. "Yes, Shawn—I'll fuck you tomorrow."

"I just wanted to make sure," he said, then got up and slid into Carlton's lap, straddling him.

.

"You okay?" Shawn murmured.

Lassiter closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on breathing slowly and relaxing enough to let his body adjust. "In a minute," he said. It felt like Shawn's cock was splitting him in half, and although he had pushed in very slowly, it felt like he was made of rock and a yard long. Three of his fingers pushed inside him all the way had been nothing compared to this—it was awkward and very uncomfortable, and he wondered how in the hell Shawn was able to moan and beg for more, beg for it harder, when he was on the receiving end.

"I can help," Juliet offered.

"Yeah," Shawn said. "Get him hard, that'll help a lot."

Lassiter opened his eyes to look at her, but she was no longer sitting cross-legged on the expanse of mattress—she had crawled closer, and his eyes tracked the fall of her hair as she leaned down and sucked his dick into her mouth. Shawn put his hand on the back of her head, patiently keeping his hips and his cock completely still, his eyes carefully watching Lassiter's face.

Juliet sucking on him did help, and just like Shawn had said, a lot. When he was completely hard and she was still going up and down on him, he squeezed down on Shawn and then couldn't help his eyes flying open and then rolling back, making a breathy noise he wouldn't have credited coming from his own mouth.

Shawn beamed. "See?" he said. "Once you start to relax and loosen up, someone's dick in your ass feels amazing."

"Uh huh," was all Lassiter could manage.

"Let me know when you're ready for me to move."

"In a minute," he said again. It still felt like he was being impaled, but now he was starting to see the upside of it, that the tightness and the internal friction could actually be pleasurable, especially combined with the stimulation of his dick. He reached for Juliet and moved her hair, tucking a soft curl behind her ear so that he could see her face. She made eye contact with him and then tightened the suction of her lips almost painfully, and when he squirmed a little he felt Shawn twitch inside him, and he couldn't help but moan softly again, deciding that yes, he did want to feel the dick in his ass start to move. "Shawn," he whispered. "Okay. Slow."

"Of course," he murmured. "'Scuse me, Jules, I need to get a grip on this situation." As soon as Juliet had grinned and backed up, he closed his hand around Lassiter's dick and started to move both his hand and his hips, rubbing his palm over the sensitive head and squeezing the shaft. It was a very weird sensation when he pulled back, but he timed his next thrusts forward with particularly good squeezes, gradually building a faster rhythm, and it wasn't long at all before Lassiter had his hands fisted in the sheets, breathing in low grunts and looking at Shawn with surprise—so this did feel all right, better than he'd imagined, still somewhat painful because he was still adjusting—and a little helpless desperation, feeling out of control and, okay, a little frightened, because this was building, and it was so much, so intense. It was getting harder to breathe.

Shawn must have seen something on his face, because he slowed down even more, pushing all the way inside and then going twice more with long, careful thrusts. He stopped, breathing a little hard himself, then took one of Lassiter's hands and gently unmade the fist, pressing a kiss into the center of his palm. "You're okay," he said gently. "Remember what I told you—you have to let me inside you. It's kind of like—like letting go. Try to relax completely and let me in."

He tried to do what Shawn described and let go of his control, but although he could tell that Shawn was completely still, he still felt like the hard cock inside him was splitting him in half. He looked at Juliet and crooked one finger at her to come closer and she did, lying on her side next to him and then giving him a long kiss with lots of her sweet, soft tongue. When she let him go, Lassiter took a long, slow breath, trying to decide if he was ready for him to start again. It didn't hurt as much now, and it didn't feel bad, exactly, but it was still quite a strange feeling to be penetrated like this, uncomfortable to have so much of someone else literally inside of him. He looked at Shawn, who was studying his face carefully, and he shook his head a little.

"I don't know how you do this so... enthusiastically," he said shakily. "And I'm bigger than you."

Shawn raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah? Well... my hair is still nicer than yours, even with the weird scar. I'm a punk, man."

"I know." He tried to move a little bit on him, to see if setting the pace himself would help, but when Shawn pressed forward again, even slightly, his body clenched up again and he drew away, hissing in air. Shawn looked at him again and tilted his head to the side, and Lassiter tried to head off any undue concern. "A thirty-year-old punk," he added.

"Rude," Shawn said softly, but he didn't look offended; he looked at Juliet, seeming to confirm something, and then he smiled. "One of these days I'm going to rock your casbah, but it's okay if it's not right now."

Lassiter was confused—he was getting better at reading the looks Juliet and Shawn sometimes shared, still a little amazed at how often they seemed to communicate completely without words, but this time he wasn't sure what had passed between them, because if the Clash reference was referring to sex, they were already doing that. "If what's not right now?" he asked.

"This," Shawn said patiently. "You seem a little freaked out."

He tried to say he wasn't, but suddenly found that he couldn't, because that was exactly what he was—that explained why he was still shaking, why he couldn't breathe easily, why his stomach and chest felt so tight, and why he still hadn't been able to completely relax and just let Shawn fuck him.

"Do you want to stop?" Juliet asked softly.

He took one more breath, and then he nodded. "Sorry," he said to Shawn, who was carefully pulling out. He'd been so far inside that Lassiter suddenly felt empty with him gone, which was also a very strange feeling, because he could also still feel him. He finally relaxed and breathed again, drawing air to the bottom of his lungs.

Shawn shrugged, stretching out on his back on the bed. "That's okay, not everyone likes it. Not even all guys who only sleep with guys do."

"And some straight guys do," Juliet added.

"I did like it," Lassiter said quietly. "It was just... overwhelming. Now that I know what to expect, next time we try that I'm sure I'll be able to handle it." Shawn shrugged again and nodded, and Lassiter leaned over to kiss him, cupping his cheek like he liked. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Happy birthday, anyway."

"Oh yeah, it is my birthday," Shawn said, grinning again. "So how serious are you about not treating my dick deficiency tonight?"

"Not at all. I just want to get cleaned up a little," he said, nodding toward the bathroom. The odd, slidey-sticky feeling down below had to go.

"You do that," Shawn said, tilting his head at Juliet, who grinned back at him. "We'll just get started."

When Lassiter came back into the bedroom, Juliet was on her back, writhing a little and moaning softly at the ceiling, and he stopped to just look at her for a moment. Shawn had her spread out wide, his face between her legs and his tongue rubbing and flicking across her clit; Lassiter watched him slide two of his fingers inside her, and she moaned again before twisting the fingers of one hand into his hair and pulling, trying to grind into his mouth. He licked her up and down and then molded his lips around her clit, sucking gently, and she arched her back while her eyelids fluttered closed and she gripped his hair tighter. He moved where and how she wanted him, humming in pleasure—while giving someone oral sex was the only time he ever allowed anyone to touch his hair, and Lassiter knew from firsthand experience that it wound him up quite a bit when anyone grabbed and yanked and forced him to move or to stay in place.

Lassiter sat down on the bed to watch, and when Shawn noticed him, he stuck his tongue as far inside her as he could, and then he popped up, put both hands on the back of Lassiter's neck, and kissed him deeply. Lassiter tasted Juliet's pussy on his lips and his cock was instantly hard again; he threw Shawn down on his back and straddled him, pinning him down by his forearms and rubbing his cock against Shawn's, tasting his mouth. He still sometimes had moments where it seemed to hit him again that he was having sex with a man, that it was Shawn Spencer he was naked with, that he was also actually sleeping with Juliet O'Hara— who wasn't his partner, but his former partner—but the more often he saw them and spent the night with them, the easier it was. Shawn gave him his tongue easily, writhing underneath him and gasping for more.

"What do you want?" Lassiter asked him, because it was his birthday.

"This," he said, almost pleading, his eyes dark. "Not 'til I come, or until you do, 'cause I want to be in the middle. But right now: hold me down and fuck me hard."

Lassiter was at first reluctant to comply completely with this, having just realized himself what it felt like, but Shawn knew what he wanted, and it was obvious early on that he did like to be dominated. His eyes rolled back and he started moaning again as soon as Lassiter shoved his dick inside him and started to pound him, and Lassiter almost laughed when Juliet slid next to him and started to tease him, very lightly brushing Shawn's cock, and then licking one of his nipples and blowing on it.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, you guys are evil," Shawn panted.

"You have the right to remain silent," Juliet murmured. "Or we might cease and desist."

"It's—it's my birthday—fuck, Lassie, harder—fuck me—"

Juliet looked at Lassiter, her face serious but her eyes amused. "Stop," she said, and he did, holding completely still with his dick only halfway inside Shawn. There was often a hierarchy here, and he wasn't stupid—he knew who was at the top of it just as well as the other two did, and while he never would have allowed himself to not be at the top when it came to work, or almost any other faction of life, here it was okay, more than okay. And it wasn't like he was at the bottom.

"Noooo," Shawn whined, trying to thrust himself back down on Lassiter's dick.

"You stop too," Juliet said, very softly. She lightly pinched one of his nipples and Lassiter could feel him jerk a little, but he obeyed. They were both looking at her, not each other, and when she checked to make sure of this, she smiled. "Good. You can be in the middle, Shawn, but you're going to finish what you started. And if you come before I do..." She glanced at Lassiter and he licked his lips, not knowing entirely what that look in her eyes was about yet, only that she would get her way.

"If I do?" Shawn asked, his voice a little breathless still.

"Then we'll both do all sorts of things to you tomorrow," she said, still grinning. "But you won't come at all. I think we can make sure of that."

"Evil!" he chirped, trying to squeeze on the dick in his ass and then wiggling a little again, clearly not having as much as he wanted.

Juliet looked at Lassiter, and then gave him a grin that was just for him, leaning in close to kiss the side of his face. "Let him up, turn him around, and fuck him," she said softly, and then moved her lips to the cup of his ear, her breath tickling the tiny hairs there. "And I want you to make him come before I do."

Diabolical, certainly, but not outright evil—not to anyone who wasn't Shawn in the middle of this scenario, at least. Lassiter smirked back at her and in a matter of moments they had Shawn right where he'd wanted to be, and right where they wanted him. Juliet was stretched out onto her back again, one hand wound in his hair and directing his tongue fucking her, while he was on his hands and knees, his spread knees almost at the edge of the bed. Lassiter was standing behind him, pushing his cock roughly all of the way inside him, one hand on his hip and the other wrapped around his dick; then his hand moved faster as his hips jerked forward harder, his fist squeezing the base of Shawn's cock as he rammed inside him hard, all of the way, and going up to the head when he pulled back.

It was a close race, and Lassiter thought that the only reason Shawn didn't come first was because of the angle—it was actually kind of difficult to get enough room and leverage to fuck him while trying to jerk him off at the same time—and because Shawn managed to get two of his fingers inside her and crook them just right. Juliet arched her back off the bed as she came, twisting her fingers in his hair hard and grinding his mouth into her, and Lassiter forgot about what his hand was supposed to be doing as he watched her eyes roll back and her chest heave. She let Shawn's head go and collapsed onto the bed, and he laughed a little.

"I win," he panted, laying his head against the sheet and then squeezing down on Lassiter's dick. "Lassie, why'd you stop?"

"Sorry," Lassiter said, and although he didn't resume fucking him yet, he stroked Shawn's cock back and forth, trying to make him squirm, which started to work at once; he buried his face in the mattress, spread his legs a little wider, and thrust backwards.

Juliet reached for Shawn and smoothed his hair down. "You want to be in the middle?" she asked.

"Yes!" Shawn braced both hands on the mattress and raised himself up. "Come here."

She shook her head slowly, smiling, as she settled down on her back farther up on the bed and spread her legs. "You come here."

Lassiter carefully pulled back from Shawn so that he could crawl forward to her, and then he waited patiently, knowing that they would show him where they wanted him. Shawn moved across the empty space at once and slid into her, catching her breathy moan in his mouth as he put one arm behind her neck, holding her close and kissing her. She put both hands under his arms and squeezed his back when he caressed her breast and brushed her nipple with his other hand; Lassiter sat on the edge of the bed, watching the way she licked into Shawn's mouth and thrust her hips upward to meet his. Shawn pulled his mouth away from hers and slid his lips down her throat, then he muttered something and Juliet looked at Lassiter and raised her eyebrows.

He shook his head. "Didn't catch that."

She smiled. "He's not in the middle yet—you need to fuck us."

Of course—it was Shawn's birthday, he would get one of his all-time favorite positions. Lassiter moved back behind him and Shawn held still long enough for him to shove his cock all the way inside him again, and then he moaned loudly when Lassiter put both hands on his hips to guide him back and forth—back onto his cock, forward into Juliet. Shawn tried to thrust both ways faster, but Lassiter held him firmly, setting the pace and keeping it until the two underneath him were both panting and writhing and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He shifted position just slightly, so that instead of pulling Shawn onto him, he could slam into him, and then he went hard, fucking Shawn with long, steady thrusts and forcing him into Juliet in the same way.

Shawn's moans were high and breathy as he tried to keep some form of control over himself, but with the way they were both holding him, all he could really do was just let go and take it and cry out how much he loved it. He attached his lips to Juliet's neck again, moving to her shoulder, and Lassiter could tell by the way her eyelids fluttered and she dug her nails into his back that he was getting toothy—not normally one for biting, he only did so when he was just about crazy with it, almost over the edge of coming so hard he wouldn't be able to breathe.

Sure enough, a few seconds later his cries reached a crescendo of both of their names mixed with swearing and affirmation; Lassiter pushed his dick inside him as far as it would go and rocked him through it as he tensed and twitched and tried to gasp. Juliet smiled and lifted her head far enough to kiss him, and Lassiter did the same, the position they were in only allowing him to press his lips to the side of Shawn's face before pulling out of him and gently rolling him off Juliet and onto his back.

Shawn's lungs unlocked and he let out his breath in a whoosh, starting to pant again, mumbling, "Ohmygod, ohmygod, m'god, guh, fuck."

Juliet snickered a little at that, turning on her side and laying her head on his shoulder. "Wow," she said. "I'm going to be feeling that tomorrow."

"Me too." Shawn closed his eyes and laid back bonelessly, and then his eyes popped open and he lifted his head enough to look at Lassiter. "Uh uh," he said. "Unacceptable."

He frowned a little, confused—he'd thought that was exactly what they'd wanted. "What?"

Shawn looked at Juliet. "Lassie didn't come," he said.

"You're right, that is unacceptable," she agreed. "Are you sore?"

"No," he said. "Are you?" She nodded, and Shawn looked at Lassiter and held his arms out. "C'mere."

He did, but although Shawn lifted his legs and tried to wrap them around his waist, Lassiter didn't push into him again yet—instead, he cupped his cheek and kissed him, noticing how much he still tasted like Juliet. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. "I went at you pretty hard."

"And it was definitely amazing," Shawn said, almost sighing. "I'm good, just start slow."

"I can do that." Lassiter reached for the tube of lube that he'd tossed to the corner of the mattress earlier and applied more, then eased his dick inside Shawn and moved carefully, holding him in much the same way Shawn had held Juliet earlier, except that Lassiter put both of his arms under Shawn's back, his hands almost to his shoulders, instead of under his neck. Shawn liked to be fucked hard—loved it, couldn't get enough—but sometimes he also responded to the slow and gentle route, licking his lips and then pressing his wet and open mouth against Lassiter's throat, his moans softer but lower, his chatter in murmurs and whispers instead of near shouts.

"Lassie," he breathed. "Ohh, Lassie, ohmygod, you feel so good, so good, fuck, yes, don't stop, never stop."

"Can't... can't do this forever," he managed to say, already starting to feel his orgasm approaching—he'd already been close when pounding him, but this was different, this was so good, never in a million years would he have ever thought making love to Shawn Spencer could be one of the best things in his life, but it was, and Juliet was watching, smiling, another one of the best things, the only good things.

"Sounds like a challenge," Shawn said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Lassiter pulled him a little closer yet, close enough to kiss his neck and his jaw. They were pressed so tightly that he could hardly move his hips back enough to pull out and thrust back in—he was almost entirely inside him and could only manage the slight back and forth motion he'd been doing earlier, but it was going to be enough. He could feel Shawn's dick between them and could tell that it wasn't hard; he wasn't going to come again, he was just enjoying the feeling of Lassiter inside him, of being held while Lassiter rocked him, closer and closer to coming inside of him. Shawn could tell he was getting close and he lifted his legs a little more, giving him more room, and then he put both hands on the back of Lassiter's neck and kissed the underside of his jaw, breathing in quick, short gasps against his neck.

"Mmm... oh, Lassie, Lassie," he whispered. "You're so good, so nice. Give it to me."

So he did, pulling out just a little more and going back in all the way, faster, molding into him and sliding thrusting surging and then he was coming, coming hard like coming home. He kept his eyes open and saw Shawn smile, satisfied, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Juliet grinning, also pleased that everyone had gotten theirs in such a mind-blowing way. He nearly collapsed onto Shawn, letting out one last breath that was half moan and dropping his forehead onto Shawn's shoulder, still inside of him and still holding him.

"Wow," Shawn said after a long moment, breathing long and slow and ending with a deep, contented sigh. "Happy fucking birthday to me."

"And you complained about turning thirty," Juliet teased him softly.

"Don't worry Jules, yours is coming up." Shawn petted the back of Lassiter's hair. "You gonna sleep like this?" he asked, not sounding irritated, just curious and a little amused.

Lassiter looked up at him. "Yes," he said. "You're cozy."

Shawn smirked; he loved it when anyone tossed his lines back at him. "I know. It's fine, I like being a pillow."

"I'll move." Lassiter sighed. "Eventually." He put both hands on the mattress and shoved himself up, carefully pulling away from Shawn and then flopping down on his back.

"Not it," Shawn murmured.

"For what?" Juliet asked.

"If anyone wants towels or the sheets to cover up." He stretched and put his hands behind his head, eyes closed. "It's still my birthday in Hawaii, so not it."

"You don't care that you're 'all gooey'?" Lassiter asked, as Shawn was usually the first to at least wipe off with a towel or shirt after a sexathon.

"Not tonight I don't," he said serenely. "I've just been shagged so righteous I could be Muppet skin. Jules, can you hit the lights? I get to sleep in the middle too, right?"

"Sure," she said to both questions, and leaned over to kiss him before getting up and flipping the light switch on the wall.

Lassiter glanced down and saw the shirt Shawn had been wearing earlier, and he grabbed it up to swab the excess lube from his groin before tossing it carelessly toward the hamper. There was a lamp that was on Juliet's usual side that was still on; Lassiter reached over for its switch as well, and when Juliet got back into the bed, Shawn turned on his side, facing her and holding his arms open. She slid into them, against him, and he rested his chin on the top of her head while she nuzzled into his neck. Lassiter eased down behind him and turned onto his side too, laying his arm over Shawn and curling it against his stomach, pulling him close. Shawn leaned back against him and then pulled Juliet closer, sighing again as though everything was right in the entire world.

"Damn cozy," he mumbled. Juliet made a sleepy sound of assent and Lassiter just pressed his face against Shawn's neck and closed his eyes.