Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

The abrasive blare of an alarm clock roused Shawn from a comfortable sleep. He curled closer around the warm body beside him. Carlton stretched out of Shawn's grip enough to reach the "off" button on the alarm.

"Shawn," he murmured drowsily, "I've got to get up."

"But why?" Shawn ran his fingers lightly along Carlton's bare chest. "Can't we stay here?"

"You may be able to do what you want, but one of us has actual responsibilities to the city. I have to go to work."

"Fine," Shawn sighed, allowing the other man to hoist himself out of bed and savoring the glimpse of his lover in the early morning light. Carlton shot back a crooked sneer when he realized he was being ogled.

"You know," Shawn continued with eyebrows suggestively raised, "I kinda have to take a shower too…"

"Then you can take one after me. And don't you play that saving-time-by-taking-only-one-shower card with me, because you know it'll only take longer. And I am not going to be late because of you."

Carlton disappeared into the bathroom without staying long enough to be convinced otherwise, and re-emerged as Shawn was finally dragging himself out of the bed.

"Jesus Christ, you're slow!" Carlton exclaimed with a slight laugh. "Get a move on! Chop, chop!"

Shawn stumbled his way in and out of the shower and then into the kitchen with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. Carlton sat at the table already fully dressed, sipping his morning cup of coffee. He glanced up at the nearly bare man who stood in front of him and winked.

"That's a good look for you." Carlton smirked.

"While I know I do have stunning body," Shawn said, "I feel that it might be too much for some people and that it might be best if I cover up a little more. But I realized that the clothes I wore yesterday are kinda gross. Can I borrow yours?"

"Um, sure, I guess."

Once Shawn had dressed himself in some of Carlton's more casual clothing and grabbed a quick bite to eat, the two hopped into the detective's car. They had somehow managed to be early enough that Carlton could take the brief detour to drop Shawn off at the Psych office on his way to the police department.

"Can we listen to Christmas music this time?" Shawn pleaded, with his finger poised to turn on the radio.

"Fine. But only if you keep it really quiet. I've got to be able to hear if I get a call. And I'm a little hung over."

Shawn laughed, but still obeyed and kept the volume low as Bruce Springsteen's version of "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" began to play and he air-guitared along with the music. Carlton pulled up in front of the festively bright office just as the song was switching to some terrible, warbling pop version of "White Christmas".

"Well, I guess I oughtta go," Shawn resigned and reached for the door handle.

"Wait," Carlton said, "before you go…"

He took Shawn by the shoulder and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Both men smiled.

"I just wanted to kiss you goodbye first," the detective said.

Shawn nodded with a grin and stepped out of the car. He looked back to Carlton as he approached the office, waving him on as he opened the door. He entered the building to find Gus already there, which was no surprise. Gus, however, looked rather puzzled.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Gus asked, eying the baggy blue button-down and too long black trousers that his friend had donned, rather than his usual polo and jeans.

"I think it's pretty obvious that I'm wearing a shirt and pants," Shawn replied. "Less easy to tell is the fact that I also have on boxers and socks, but I figured that would be assumed. Though, I have been known to go commando on occasion."

"That's not what I mean. I mean those don't look like your clothes. You look ridiculous. Hold up a second –" Gus paused a moment, "Are those – is that Lassiter's?"

"That's classified information."

"Whatever, Shawn. I guess that means you two got your stuff figured out then, huh?"

"What's to figure out?" Shawn smiled and reclined in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and folding his arms lazily behind his head.

"I ought to slap you, you know that?"