Getting more feels in this one. And finally smut. And Shawn is a man when it comes to sex.
(-)
Rehab tonight? The text message from Spencer sent his heart racing. It had been a week that he'd been looking forward to this. Their paths had only crossed briefly on a simple burglary case. He missed the little pest.
Your place or mine? It wasn't until after he hit send that he realized how much that sounded like a question for a real date.
How about yours? I want to see what you've done with the place. New cases for me to get my eyes on…
Idiot. Carlton made a note to put away his crime boards before the psychic came over. You aren't working on my cases.
Fine. But your house is still nicer.
Ignoring the small well of pride from that statement, he said, My place it is. We can decide on food then. I have all the take-out menus.
I'm sure you do. And since you get off early today, how does 7:30 sound? I want to give you time to hide the evidence. I mean, the cases.
Okay, that was a little creepy and needed to be addressed finally. Why do you know my schedule?
How am I supposed to see-I mean annoy you at any given time if I have no idea where you are? I can even run odds on you working late; they're always really high.
The fact that Spencer could have backspaced instead of correcting his statement was telling. He was working the Spencer case, looking for evidence, and that was a clue. One that Shawn had clearly given him on purpose.
Given that he was now the host, he had to pick a few things up and prepare things. But he could do that in an hour and a half. Fine, 7:30 it is.
Great! I'm doing warm-up exercises already!
It took a few moments for him to realize that Shawn was telling him he was smiling. That idiot. That adorable, endearing, aggravating, brilliant twerp. Lassiter was smiling too, and he was fairly certain it was unnerving some of his coworkers. Moron.
Keep sweet-talking me, Lassie. You know I love it.
That was decidedly not how to talk to one's "man-date" for the evening. This was really happening. Spencer was flirting with him for real.
"Date with Shawn tonight?" O'Hara asked, setting a cup down on his desk. She had gone on a coffee run.
He glanced around them, making sure no one was near their desks to hear her. "What makes you say that?"
"You're grinning at your phone like crazy. Unless someone is offering you free guns, nothing else is going to make you that happy."
Over the past week, his partner had been steadily (if less overwhelmingly enthusiastically) building up his confidence and making him feel more and more comfortable discussing the situation with her. "Yeah, tonight."
She grinned. "Better get to planning, then."
"What is there to plan?"
Now she had a sly look. "You know how you plan an interrogation to get a confession, or a stakeout to wait and see what someone does? You can apply some of those skills to a date."
Right. Shawn was his case. Solve the mystery of how the younger man actually felt about him. He was a detective; he could do it. "Fine, what would you suggest?"
O'Hara's eyes darted around the station. "Let's discuss it when we get lunch. We can talk more freely then."
His partner understood the challenges of being bisexual in the police force. While she was confident the whole station wouldn't turn against him, it would certainly draw a lot of ridicule. It hadn't been a problem, because it had been years since he had found a man attractive. Then Shawn showed up and ruined everything. Like he enjoyed doing.
"Sounds good." He knew he was damn lucky to have her.
(-)
"You know, I really am sad you put the crime boards away," Shawn said as he entered. "It was very Lassie-chic." He glanced at the sofa. "Haven't been back here since I was kidnapped and had a gun pointed at me."
"Well, if you find yourself missing the sensation, I can fix that."
Far from finding it threatening, Shawn grinned. "Look at you giving me a good work out already. And how many guns are in this room alone?"
He kept demonstrating his acceptance of Lassiter over and over. "Five."
"Does that mean you've upped your game from seven hidden guns to more?" The psychic stepped closer.
"…maybe…" Acceptance or not, he didn't feel like telling Shawn his paranoia after that incident had him upping his hidden guns to twelve.
He was not expecting a pat on the head from the hesitant admission. "That's my Lassie." And he had no idea that a simple head-pat could feel so good.
Spencer went to look at the take-out menus on his kitchen counter. He frowned, grabbed one, and threw it in the trash. "Hey!"
Instead of apologizing, Shawn said, "New management. I saw them tell a worker to pick a piece of chicken up off the floor and put it back on the plate. Like hell I'm letting you get food poisoning."
That made Lassiter pause. That last sentence…it sounded so protective. Which made him feel warm inside, and happy. But Shawn so often did. "Thanks, then."
"How about pizza?" the younger man asked, picking up the pizza menus and sliding the rest to the side. Then he took three of the pizza menus and put them on that pile. "They don't have pineapple on their pizza," he said by way of explanation.
"Probably best to get two, since I don't have your pathological obsession with that fruit."
"Fair enough. What kind do you want?"
"Meat-lovers."
Spencer snickered. "I'm showing great restraint by not commenting on that."
Lassiter knew he was blushing. "That was a comment in and of itself. You're such a child."
"But I'd be nowhere near as fun if I wasn't. Come on, Lassie, be honest: would it be better if I acted like you or my dad?"
That drew a shudder at the thought. "That would be strange and wrong."
"Exactly." Then Spencer's eyes slid to the counter by his stove. "Skittles!" He had found the bowl of Skittles Lassiter had set aside as a snack for their movie-watching.
"Those will be gone before the pizza gets here, won't they?" he asked, picking up the menu of his favorite pizza place and pulling out his phone.
"Not if I eat them one by one." The idiot illustrated by picking up one, pausing, then tossing it up high in the air and catching it in his mouth.
"If you choke, I'm not doing the Heimlich Maneuver."
"Lassie, you'll always save me, no matter how grumpy you are about it. I'd trust you with my life. Hell, I'd trust you with anything, even if I was bound, gagged, and blindfolded."
Carlton quickly turned away to order the pizza, heart suddenly racing. That…that wasn't arousing. That wasn't exactly what he wanted to feel about Shawn. That…wasn't a strangely knowing statement. It made him a little paranoid that the psychic somehow knew about his fantasies. With the twit being so perceptive, it wasn't out of the question.
He was aware of Shawn moving in his peripheral vision as he ordered. The kid had picked up the bowl of Skittles and brought it to set on the coffee table in front of the couch. The detective would have threatened him about picking up any missed Skittles, but he was on the phone. He also hadn't seen Shawn miss once. Figured.
It didn't take long to order their pizzas, and he watched Shawn, Skittle by Skittle, make every shot into his mouth. When he hung up he said, "Got a lot of practice at that?"
"Oh, you should have been there when Gus and I had a competition. We had to buy in bulk, and we were up to one-hundred and thirty-six before he finally missed."
And a thought occurred to him. "And he demanded a rematch."
Shawn was delighted. "Yes! Lassie, you know us so well. He missed on two-hundred and five the second match."
"And this was in one day?"
"Well, we started around ten at night and ended around two in the morning. Gotta pace yourself when you're doing that much sugar."
He made it sound like drugs. And to Spencer, it pretty much was. Lassiter walked up and took the Skittles away. "These are for after dinner, while we're watching movies."
"Awww. Well, while we wait for pizza, we might as well pick movies. I figured if we each brought two, we could choose one of the other's movies. Then we have two movies for tonight, two for our next movie night."
Spencer was already making more plans. It was…encouraging. "So you have another man-date planned?"
"Well, duh, Lassie. When we're having so much fun together, I'm not going to just stop. You had fun last time too, right?" Those eyes were so innocent and endearing, it was unnerving. Whenever he remembered that Shawn was a master at manipulating people, it gave him pause on all his assumptions about how the psychic felt about him.
"Of course…except that last part." Why was he bringing that up?!
A coy expression stole over Shawn's face. "I told you that whatever floats your boat is fine by me. Everyone has something a little unusual they like."
This conversation couldn't be happening. Spencer was not trying to talk about kinks with him. "Whatever."
(-)
After the pizza arrived they started watching. By the time they had both eaten their fill, Shawn was shivering slightly. "Lassie, it's kinda cold in here."
He may or may not have deliberately lowered his thermostat to see what Shawn would do. "Is it?"
"Yeah." The detective saw the psychic eyeing him up and down. "How do you feel about huddling?"
"Huddling?"
"Like huddling together for warmth? Also called cuddling by some folks, but not by us since we're on a man-date."
Shawn did not just seriously ask Lassiter to cuddle with him. He must have misheard. "Huddling?"
The younger man rolled his eyes. Then he scooted close to the detective and slid under his arm. After a moment's hesitation, he leaned in, wrapping his arms around Carlton's torso and resting his head on his chest over his heart. Surely the sound was deafening, because the detective was almost panicking at all the sudden contact. "See? Now I'm warm. Calm down, Lassie. We're just getting comfy for movie night."
Warm? Comfy? Those weren't the words he'd use to describe suddenly having Shawn tucked against him, clinging to him. He couldn't decide what those words were, but they definitely weren't that mild.
Not sure what to say, he just carefully placed his hand near the psychic's hip, enjoying the pleased noise that drew as Shawn tried to get even closer.
The movie no longer held his interest. Now he was focused on Shawn. How he felt, the heat of his skin that touched Lassiter's, and the way it permeated through his shirt. That sweet pineapple smell that almost made him feel drunk with it dominating his senses. How, every so often, the younger man would make small noises and shift against him.
It took a lot of focus to keep himself calm. His heart was probably still hammering, but he wasn't hard. He was on the verge; one right move from Shawn and things would get awkward.
Given how eagerly Shawn had latched onto him, Carlton wanted to test boundaries. He took his hand from Shawn's hip to slide it up and down his side, partly on his back. An undeniably pleasured noise escaped the younger man, who shifted a little to give the detective more access to his back. When he concentrated his movements there, Shawn arched into it like a cat at first, but then seemed to relax completely.
It took him a few moments to realize that Shawn was asleep. Holy hell, Shawn Spencer had just fallen asleep cuddling with him. And the whole situation had him surging with hope, no, belief that the younger man was actually interested in him. The clues piling up were akin to arriving mid-murder and witnessing it for himself. Not much room for alternate interpretation when it all came together like that.
The question was, how should he go about pursuing it? Like O'Hara said, he didn't really have to; Shawn was pursuing him. But when should he make a move to show that he was interested? Not tonight; no, he knew enough about his ineptitude with relationships to know better than to go in without a plan.
The movie played on, unwatched, and when it was over, he didn't want to wake Shawn to put in another movie that he'd rather ignore in favor of the psychic. Even after he'd stopped stroking down Shawn's back, he slept peacefully, slumped against Lassiter. The implied trust amazed him. Shawn had said he'd trust him with anything, even if he was incapacitated in various ways, but this actual display of that trust made him jealous.
He wanted to feel so safe and secure that he would thoughtlessly fall asleep around another person. But he never felt secure and only felt safe when he was armed. Trusting Shawn like that would be difficult, if not impossible. But he so desperately wanted to.
(-)
"Spencer, wake up. You aren't staying the night here."
The psychic stirred against him. "Mmm, did I fall asleep?"
"Yes, not even halfway through the first movie." And it was kind of adorable.
"Did you rub my back?" Carlton stiffened, sure it was an accusation until Shawn said, "That relaxes me and puts me right to sleep like nothing else can."
He didn't want to answer that question. "Anyway, I thought we might try the movies again on a second movie night. It's getting late."
"You let me sleep after the movie ended?"
How he wished Spencer would stop asking uncomfortable questions. Even if he thought Shawn liked him, he still didn't know how to handle it. "I figured you had to be really tired if you'd fall asleep against me."
"Nah, I just feel safe and comfortable with you. That plus back rubs equals near coma."
Lassiter had nothing he could say to that. There was some awkward movement as they got up and Shawn got ready to leave, and by the time Spencer was out the door, he was starting to relax. Then: "Hey, Lassie?"
"What is it, Spencer?"
"Next time you can just ask me to sit close and cuddle; you don't have to turn your thermostat down." And the idiot walked away.
Carlton all but slammed the door to avoid anymore contact after that comment. Of course the brilliant idiot had noticed.
(-)
Did cuddling require discussion? It felt like a significant step to Lassiter, but the next day Shawn stopped by the police station "just for funsies" and it was like nothing significant happened between them. All the regular teasing and references as if he hadn't spent hours sleeping on the detective the night before. It was somewhat maddening, and he ran low on patience for the pest's antics.
Luckily, O'Hara could see his temper rising and shooed the psychic and his sidekick away. Once they were gone, she asked, "Did last night go that badly?"
"It went different than I expected, but I thought it went really well." He was finally convinced that Shawn liked him. But when absolutely nothing was different the next day, he was back to wondering.
"But…?"
"But he's acting like nothing happened. Like it didn't matter." And that was the problem. Maybe it didn't.
"What did happen?"
Casting a glance around to be sure no one was close enough to listen in, he said, "He fell asleep during the movie. Cuddled up against me."
"And you think he should say something?" O'Hara asked.
"I don't know! It just feels different now, but he doesn't seem to think so."
His partner smiled at him. "First of all, this is Shawn. Serious talks are his Kryptonite; you've been exceptional to get him to behave as maturely as you have so far. And, second, Shawn knows about cops. Even if he wanted to have that conversation, he wouldn't start it here."
She was right. In fact, if Spencer had tried to bring up cuddling with him standing next to his desk in the precinct, it would have sent him into a panic. But…when were they supposed to talk about it?
His phone beeped. He checked it, and of course it was that idiot. Heya, Lassie. Don't suppose we can try again tonight? If you don't rub my back this time, I'll probably stay awake. No promises, though; it's really comfy and pleasant being pressed against you.
O'Hara's voice was low as she said, "Was that a sext or something? You just got bright red."
That didn't cool his face any. And, yes, he could sense some eyes on him. If Spencer liked being pressed against him, he had a lot more pleasant ways to do it. And, no, he definitely wasn't thinking anything sexual about Shawn while he was at work.
"It's nothing."
Fine. Tonight. I still have leftover pineapple pizza that I'm not going to eat, so I might as well have you come finish it. He was still feeling a bit stung that the psychic didn't have any desire to acknowledge the elephant sitting between them.
I plan to finish a lot more than pizza tonight.
Carlton scarcely had time to start hyperventilating before another text came. You know, the movies.
He wasn't sure if that was an actual correction, or another tease veiled behind ostensibly clarifying his statement. The moron was good at playing him, and when he thought about it that way, it threw his previous certainty back into doubt. Just come by at 7:30 again.
Don't be so frowny, Lassiepants. I can hear it in the tone of your text messages.
That makes no sense. But it was such a Shawn thing to say that his lips tweaked into a small smile.
But saying that fixed the problem, now didn't it?
"That must be some conversation," O'Hara said.
"It's with Shawn, so of course it is." Tonight. One way or another, something had to be settled tonight.
(-)
He had the pizza reheating in the oven when Shawn arrived. The goofball actually looked mildly nervous, which made him feel better. "So, you were an unhappy Lassie today. Worse than just grumpy."
Did he want to have the conversation now? "You were acting like nothing happened last night."
"Well, if you really want me to, I'll tell Jules and Buzz and Chief Vick and all your other co-workers how much I love cuddling with you, but I figured it was another thing between us. You'll notice I also haven't brought up your excitement at the gun range if there's anyone else around."
That did not improve his composure, and he pretended the heat on his face was from pulling the leftover pizza from the oven. "You didn't tell Guster about last night?"
"Gus doesn't approve of our man-dates, so he doesn't want to hear about them."
Lassiter put the slices onto some plates and Shawn followed him to the sofa. "So, we'll try again?"
Shawn plopped down near, but not too close to his left. "Yeah. Plus, I can't cuddle and eat pizza, so there's that."
That ended up meaning the psychic scarfed his pizza down so quickly that the movie had barely started by the time he finished. Carlton could sense the younger man's impatience as he ate his own dinner at a more reasonable speed.
When he finally sat down his plate, Spencer pulled him to sit back on the couch and latched onto him. After settling into his position of the previous night, he said, "I missed this. You're nice to cuddle, Lassie." A soft sigh before his hand started idly moving across the detective's stomach and he said, "You smell nice."
Okay, he was getting hard, and he didn't know how to make it stop. "Uh, thanks."
Spencer's face was fully pointed at the screen as he said, "Hey, Lassie? I don't think I want to go on anymore man-dates."
That stopped it. "Oh. Well, we can turn off-"
The younger man's face was suddenly next to his. "Can we stop pretending this isn't real? I've tried being patient, but it takes too long."
He wasn't sure exactly what to say except… "Yes."
Warm lips pressed against his as soon as the word left his mouth. They retreated briefly as those dangerous hazel weapons scanned him to evaluate his reaction. It must have been satisfactory, because he was kissed more forcefully this time. And he responded in kind.
It was like a new way to argue, pushing and pulling, and when Shawn's hand slid to run down the inside of his thigh, he gasped as the latent arousal he'd been suppressing turned into a full-blown erection, and the twerp used the opportunity to slide his tongue between the detective's lips.
Now it was less arguing, more demanding. They both needed, and they were finally getting it. When Shawn's hand started stroking him through his pants, he finally pulled away, panting. "Oh, fuck, when you touch me like that…"
"Wow, Lassie talks dirty. I like it." The psychic hadn't stopped stroking, nothing forceful, just firm pressure up and down. And it had his hips bucking towards the touch and him aching for more.
And like hell he'd turn down this opportunity. "Don't stop."
Shawn pulled himself as close as he could while still moving his hand. His lips were at Carlton's ear as he said, "I wouldn't dream of it, Lassie. You know what I dream about? Making you cum. Driving you crazy in fun new ways not suitable for public. The things I want to do to you…"
Talk like that was almost too much. His muscles were already tightening, Shawn's had was speeding up, and Lassiter was going to cum in his pants, and he couldn't care less. "Spencer…"
The hand slowed down, and he whimpered. Then the younger man said, "Call me Shawn, or I will stop, Lassie."
"Fuck, Shawn, please…" He was so desperate. When that hand sped up again, he was even closer. "Close…"
Stroking getting frantic, and just as he was about to lose it, Shawn said, "You're such a good boy, Lassie."
Shawn had him coming harder than he had in ages, so much better than he could ever satisfy himself. And that last statement? It felt amazing, but it was nothing compared to what was said as he rode out his orgasm.
"So wonderful, Lassie. I love touching you like this; I've wanted to for so long now. Mmm, you make me so hard and someday I'm gonna fuck you while you beg for more."
It took time to calm, and his pleasure-addled mind had plenty to think on. The first thing that popped out of his mouth was: "You're gonna fuck me?"
"Unless you don't want it. I'd never force you, Lassie. Never ever. I'm going to make you feel so safe with me. Give me the chance, and I'll take you apart with pleasure. You can let me take care of you for once."
That was so close to perfect. If only Carlton was actually capable of trust. He tried to gather himself, because he was pretty sure it was his turn to reciprocate, and he'd never touched another man before. Talk about performance anxiety.
"I mean it when I say I won't force you. I don't want you to do anything you aren't comfortable with." Sometimes it seemed like Shawn was an actual mind-reader.
The psychic was giving him a pass, if he wanted it. Did he want it? "I just…" he knew his face was bright red, "I've never done this before."
"I kinda figured, Lassie. That's fine. There's a learning curve, and we can go as slow or fast as you want."
Was he actually being mature? It was like he was seeing Spencer as a man for the first time. It was incredibly exciting that Shawn had the capability to be more than a man-child. And…thinking about it, the way Shawn was acting now…he would be much more likely to trust this Shawn with his body. Not that he was capable of trust. But this made him feel closer to it.
"If you don't want to touch me tonight, I can always touch myself. With you watching."
"I, um…" He as at a loss. He felt like he should return the favor, but that just filled him with nerves and feelings of inadequacy, which wouldn't improve anything.
Shawn was suddenly straddling his lap, and Carlton didn't care how uncomfortable his cum-filled pants were, he wasn't moving until they were finished. "Can I touch myself, Lassie? Do you want to watch?"
"God yes." The words slipped out of his mouth before he decided to say them.
And then the younger man was opening his pants, and when Shawn's dick was freed, Lassiter's attention was glued to it. The psychic smiled slightly and sighed as he started stroking himself. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"None," Carlton agreed, because he couldn't imagine what Shawn saw in him that made him worth choosing over younger, more attractive partners.
Shawn's free hand went to brace himself on Lassiter's shoulder, and that seemed to naturally draw the detective's hand to Spencer's hips. He was still mesmerized by the stroking, but now he was enjoying the noises Shawn made, small gasps and whimpers. "You can touch me anywhere, any way you want, Lassie."
Looking up to meet those eyes was almost deadly. They were weapons under normal conditions, but holding a gaze like this made the detective stop breathing for a moment. So much desire, so much need, and it was all for him. All that perceptive ability was focused solely on Lassiter. If he was younger he would probably be working up another erection.
The hand was speeding up steadily, the psychic panting and leaning in closer. "Can I cum on you?"
Lassiter could only nod dumbly before Shawn kissed him, muffling a loud groan that preceded hot, wet spurts soaking the front of his shirt. He liked how that felt and wondered how it would feel if Shawn came on his bare skin.
When the kiss was broken, the psychic sighed, his body still shaking. "That felt incredible. And you didn't even have to touch me to make me cum that hard."
And Lassiter saw the ulterior motive: Spencer was trying to make him feel confident enough to try touching the twit next time. But if that was his worst hidden motive, Carlton could live with that.
Still… "I can't believe we just did that."
The psychic smirked and kissed him briefly. "And I can't believe it's not butter, Lassie."
A groan at the bad reference, and there was the Shawn he knew and loved. Not that he didn't love seeing this new side to him, but the ridiculous man-child was who he'd fallen for.
"Should we talk about this now so you don't get all cranky-pants if I don't discuss it at the station tomorrow?"
O'Hara hadn't been wrong about serious talks being Shawn's Kryptonite. The fact that he was now offering to have one voluntarily said a lot. "Does this mean you want a relationship with me?" He hated how insecure his voice sounded.
"Well, duh, Lassie. I wouldn't start anything with you lightly. You've been hurt enough."
Tears pricked his eyes at that, and he worked hard to keep it from getting worse. "That's…"
The younger man kissed him, but it wasn't an argument or a demand this time. This time it was soft, sweet…reassuring. When Shawn pulled away, he smiled. "I want to make you happy. I don't want to be the reason you're sad."
And damn if that didn't make it harder. It was like everything he'd been holding back for years was threatening to escape. All the rage, self-hatred, loneliness, depression, and all the poisonous thoughts…he was dangerously close to exploding. He didn't want that. Didn't want Shawn to see him break.
But as tears started falling, even as he hated his weakness, he realized that if someone had to be there, he wanted it to be Shawn. That was validated when the younger man leaned forward and pulled Carlton into his arms, so when the detective did break, it was muffled by Shawn's shirt.
He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but it felt like ages. But the psychic never let go, never even loosened his grip. And…it made him feel safe. Safe to let go of his feelings. Like he could trust Shawn to keep him from falling apart.
"You're okay, Lassie. You're safe with me." The words were whispered in his ear as a hand started moving up and down his spine. It calmed him, and eventually he just sighed and melted against the younger man.
A few moments later, Shawn said, "Those pants have to be uncomfortable. Why don't you clean up and change into your pajamas? I can tuck you into bed before I leave."
Face hot as he finally pulled away, Carlton said, "I don't need to be tucked into bed like a child."
Those eyes seemed to measure him. "So you want me to leave before you get into the shower?"
He didn't like that idea either. But he didn't know what to say. So Shawn said, "I'll be honest: if I stick around while you shower, I'll be very tempted to try and join you. But I'm trying not to push, so I should probably leave. We can try movie night again later. Eventually we can get through it without being distracted, right?"
Lassiter pulled him in for a kiss, still amazed he was allowed to do that, and said, "I doubt that. I have a feeling distraction is going to be a big problem from now on, even outside of movie night."
"Perils of having a secret boyfriend who works with you," Shawn said with an impish grin. "I'll try to behave and not contribute to your distraction.
That sounded amazing and unreal. Secret boyfriend. "Liar. You're going to love this."
"Well, if you can't take your eyes off me, it won't be a secret for long. And since I know going public isn't an option for the foreseeable future, I can be discreet." There was a slight pout before he added, "But you're right; I'd love to drive you insane."
And whether he tried to or not, he knew Shawn Spencer would.
(-)
So, they're in a relationship. Not sure how long until Shawn broaches the BDSM topic, but probably only after he has built up some trust.
Hopefully not too OOC, what with the breaking down thing. It's all about building towards that trust, showing that Lassiter trusts Shawn enough to be vulnerable around him. Emotional vulnerability would likely come before physical vulnerability.
You guys have been great about reviewing, and I super appreciate it. It's a lot of support and attention I never expected this fic to get.