Alright, finally finished the new one (mid-terms are a b*tch), and here it is.
Disclaimer: I own the words and my voice, nothing more. (AKA: you recognize it, it ain't mine, so don't sue me.)
Romance, dark
I Hate Everything About You – Three Days Grace
Lassiter steers Spencer into the interrogation viewing room (he learned early on to conduct personal business on the right side of the mirror)
by the back of the neck, then shoves him the rest of the way inside. Shawn takes the moment of reprieve while Carlton locks the door to catch his breath, and promptly wastes it.
"Lassie, I know," He goes silent again as Carlton throws him against the wall and his breath is forced from his lungs. The taller man follows closely, pinning Spencer's body in place with his own. He seizes the younger man's wrists and draws them up above his head.
"I hate you." He hisses in the fake-psychic's face, forcing him to hold eye-contact. "I know." Is the whispered response.
"I want to hate you." He continues, ignoring the other man's repeated words, "I know."
"I should hate you. Everyone thinks I do." At this, the smaller man nods, his first movement since entering the room. "I know."
He's following 'the rules' today.
"I could hate you." Silence. "Ignore you." A whimper as green eyes widen in fear with a hint of desperation. His hips twitch forward, but quickly snap back against the wall.
He's really obedient today. It's rare, and almost tempting. It can't be easy, but that's the point. He waits for the soft words, the ones he never tires of hearing, especially in that soft breathy desperate pleading tone.
"Don't leave me. Please." Spencer's eyes are downcast; he's ashamed of needing this, they both are.
Lassiter slams his lips down on Spencer's, teeth clacking and nipping as their personalities collide.
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This is wrong, in both their eyes, it's against everything they know and believe.
They avoided it before, but that couldn't last.
They tried to stop a few times. Carlton tried to woo his ex-wife again, Shawn went on a dating spree that put all his others to shame.
But four days later and they snapped back, like a rubber band stretched too far. Always they came back to each other.
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He invades the sweet mouth below him first, but knows he will be forced back soon, only for a moment before he shifts angles and takes control again. Spencer starts to squirm beneath him, the threat of being ignored too much. Lassiter breaks the kiss, if it can be called that, to smirk at his anxious young counterpart.
He shoves a knee between shaking legs, delighting in each unabashed moan and breathy gasp. He begins to rock, slowly, gently, at first, because it drives the young man crazy and he revels in the pay back, the retaliation, the turnabout.
He reaches between them, trailing a hand down Spencer's stomach, then switches and grabs himself, earning all sorts of delightful begging noises. He strokes himself through his pants a few times, letting himself close his eyes and enjoy it, to make the teasing complete.
When Spencer goes silent with need, Lassiter relents. He slides his hand under jeans and boxers and grabs Spencer's naked length without warning, and the appreciative sounds and kisses against his neck are even better than the begging.
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They need this, both of them, this hateful thing they have, because they're better at it. It's easier than love, and they won't screw it up.
If they happen to slip and allow themselves a tender moment every once in a while, neither says anything because it's safer.
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They collapse to the floor together, entangled in awkward positions that really shouldn't feel so comfortable.
Carlton is first to move, of course, but it's just to straighten out his back, for now. Shawn starts to reach over, but hesitates, knowing it's against 'the rules'. Specifically the one where he's not supposed to touch Carlton after they're done.
So he's shocked when Carlton grunts and reaches out to him instead, pulling him close. Shawn finds himself sprawled on the taller man's chest, head tucked under a strong chin, held in place by warm firm arms that suddenly seem strange and yet all too familiar.
This is new, and so against all the rules they set to protect themselves, but Shawn won't dare object. It feels too safe, too comfortable, too unbelievably right, so he just snuggles closer and focuses all of his impressive memory on this feeling, so he can relive it when it's over.
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For those who need a sappier, less ambiguous ending:
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Then Carlton's hold tightens, and Shawn barely registers a wetness in his hair when the detective speaks.
"Shawn."
The ragged gasp tears at the fake psychic's heart, and he replies without thinking.
"Carlton."
And neither of them moves, and Shawn thinks maybe this won't end as soon as he'd thought.
See? Not quite as angsty... at least not at the end there... okay, yeah, still angsty. Next one's not, though. Sorry.
Hope ya'll enjoyed.