CW: Little!Shawn's imagination gets a bit messy. You don't miss anything if you jump to "present day" once he starts.

(5 years ago)

Chills ran across Shawn's skin, even as a flush radiated heat from his cheeks. His jogging brought him back to the door and he stopped, gasping for breath. His legs shook and begged to let him rest. A shock jolted through him, and his legs gave way, crashing him to the ground.

"I didn't say to stop. A slave is whatever its master wants, and a master ain't ever gonna want something that's sick. Get up. Keep running."

He could just stay laying down, keep getting shocked until he fell unconscious and could actually rest…

"Mind over body, Shawn."

Shawn gritted his teeth and stood up. He had to survive. The world dimmed, and he stayed hopeful as he forced his legs to start jogging again. Maybe he'd pass out on his own… The world annoyingly cleared up, even as it continued to sway like a boat at sea.

His lungs burned by the end of the first lap, his legs tried to buckle after the second. He was borrowing from energy he didn't have as he completed his third circuit, but a dark glance from the man had him gasping out a sob as he kept moving. He just needed to rest…

His dad knelt so they could see eye-to-eye. "Someday, there's going to be a bad guy who needs stopped. And he's not going to care if you're sick or hurt. It's important to listen to your body, but it's just as important to remember that you" –he gently tapped Shawn's pounding head– "are the one in charge."

"Can't you just carry me to the truck?" Shawn whined as he curled up further. Everything hurt; the sound of the crowd in the distance hurt, the light of the sun hurt, the feeling of the shirt tag on the back of his neck hurt…

"Sure, I could carry my nine-year-old son to the truck," his dad agreed with a tone that made it clear he wouldn't follow through on it. "But think about it. All of your classmates will see… Even Ryan."

Shawn's eyes snapped up to stare at his dad. He was right; that was unacceptable.

His dad smirked, knowing he'd won. "Do you want to look weak in front of Ryan?"

"No." The bully had enough ammunition as it was.

"Then get up and find a focal point. Something to concentrate on instead of everything bad you're feeling."

Shawn slowly stood up, straightening his back and staring into the blinding light of day. He set his jaw as he imagined himself as Indiana Jones fighting his way to the fancy cups.

"Atta boy. No weakness."

"No weakness," Shawn agreed.

No weakness. Shawn's steps became more sure as he set his jaw and continued to do as he'd been told.

"Good slave. You're making your master happy being what he wants."

And now he had his focal point. Shawn grimly jogged another lap as he imagined the man stretched out on a table, vulnerable to anything he wanted to do. He'd start with the hands; the man couldn't use the remote without hands. Each finger was sliced off with a thick click of a cigar cutter, the bones breaking with a satisfying crack. The hands were nailed to the table, but that was too much like Jesus. They had to go. A machete made quick work of them, and blood spurted through Shawn's imagination in a pleasant haze.

He tried to add screams, but it was impossible to imagine the man screaming. He'd have to suffer in silence then, with his mouth stuffed full of dog food and taped closed.

He started cauterizing the stumps as he made another lap.

(Present Day)

There was a hole in the bathroom where Abigail usually stood. Shawn took a moment to explore the feeling as he looked around the empty room. It wasn't like there hadn't been days when they didn't meet in the mornings, but it was different now that he knew he might never see her again. Something inside shriveled up, like a mouse shying away from a hot flame. He didn't want to never see her again.

He'd only just let himself admit that he liked being around her, that she was different from everyone else. He'd only been able to watch a handful of movies with her. He'd only been able to help her a little. He wanted to help her a lot, to have movie night every Saturday, to talk without restriction, to maybe even hold her hand. Someday. If she was ok with it.

And now she was gone. He'd missed his moment.

Shawn walked through the area that should have been filled and left the room, his mind still firmly on the other slave. Was she safe? She'd clearly felt like she could trust Rowan enough to tell them her birth name. Was the family she was with treating her well? Was she getting enough to eat? Would her and her master come back to campus at all?

He let himself into Gus' room and gave Gus a reassuring nod. No one had come into the bathroom while he was there.

That was the problem.

He put the shower things away before moving to the window to look out. Abigail had started becoming a constant for him, but he should have known better. Nothing was constant for a slave; everything was temporary. Even their lives were temporary, to be thrown away once they weren't useful anymore.

Was he just fooling himself by thinking Gus could break that universal constant? He was safe and comfortable for now, but there wasn't ever any guarantee that it would stay that way. And even with Gus, his freedom was only a partial freedom. It couldn't ever be anything but with the collar around his neck.

What if the collar wasn't around his neck?

Shawn stared at the open sky, imaging wings on his back opening up and taking him away from the chains that bound him. He could go where he wanted, do what he wanted, never ask for permission –even when he knew that permission would be given. He could find her, free her, protect her…

The escape itch that had become dormant roared into life as he scanned every building he could see, planning where he could hide or where he could find information on the Black Market. He was stronger, faster, healthier than he'd ever been when he'd tried before. He knew the rules now. He had a master who wouldn't stop him if he was caught. He could do it.

He just had to plan it right. He couldn't let himself mess it up by leaping before he looked. He needed more information.

"You miss her, don't you?"

Shawn flinched; what sort of slave didn't hear their master come up behind them? It took his collar beeping before he realized he'd been asked a question. "Y-Yeah. I do."

"Shit, sorry." Gus rubbed the back of his neck as he looked out across the buildings. "I shouldn't have asked that."

Gus wasn't true freedom… but he was close. And he was a friend. Friends talked about missing other friends. "It's ok. Do you know where they are?"

"Rowan never said…" Gus shrugged hopelessly. "I know their family is a few hours away, so they aren't townies. But that still leaves a lot of the state to cover."

Shawn nodded and studied the soft pink glow of the sunrise that peeked through the buildings. Was she in that direction? "I hope they're safe."

"Yeah, me too."

They watched the sunrise silently before starting their day.

It took less than a week for Shawn to get sick.

His brain pounded and the world spun as he took his shower; it was too close to being drunk for his liking. His clothes felt like sandpaper when he pulled them on and sweat dripped down his back as he contemplated the hair supplies. Did he really need to do it? He was already exhausted and picking up the bottle seemed as impossible as moving a mountain. Though... Gus would notice if he didn't do it. It had to be done.

His hands shook as they applied the hair gel and he was out of breath by the time he dropped his arms back to his side. Today was a bathroom day with the janitor… Bathroom days were always the hardest.

He didn't want to do a bathroom day… His stomach lurched as he thought of the wet and sticky things that he'd have to touch and he swallowed down a mouthful of bile. He couldn't make a mess.

The short walk to Gus' room somehow stretched into a mile. It was only the thought of Gus' worry that made him put away his supplies away of just dropping them on the floor so he could crawl back into his sleeping bag.

"G'Mornin'," Gus slurred as he stretched in his bed, five minutes before his alarm would go off.

Shawn immediately straightened his spine and put on a casual smile. No weakness. "Good morning."

He winced at the traitorous rough edge to his voice, and Gus immediately sat up in bed. "Are you ok?"

He was a slave; a slave was whatever its master wanted. "Yes, I'm ok."

"Dude, I haven't been awake for a minute and I can tell that's a lie." Gus squinted and climbed out of bed to move closer. Shawn fought to not fidget under the scrutiny. "Are you sick?"

Could he get away with trying to lie again? "Just a little, but it's ok. I can still work."

"Just a little? I can hear it in your voice; you sound like Clint Eastwood."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Then you should have picked a worse actor." Shawn walked to the coffee maker in his victory and started a cup. "See? I'm fine."

"I'm not drinking that," Gus shot back. "Do you have any idea how many germs you just tried to give me?"

"Nope." Shawn crossed his arms and stared Gus down. It would have been a lot easier if the room wasn't swaying with the cowboy theme of the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly playing in the back of his head.

Gus matched his stance and stared right back. "You're flushed, your voice is scratchy, and you're swaying. I'd bet every Green Spirit comic I have that you have a fever. That's not 'just a little.'"

He wasn't giving any orders, which wasn't even a surprise anymore. "Slaves don't get sick."

"Any slave of mine can." Gus stalked to the first-aid kit, though it was obvious he was slowing his movements so he wouldn't startle Shawn. He came back with a thermometer and a compromise. "If it's over 100, you stay home and we use one of your days off. Consider it doing what I want, if you have to."

Shawn reluctantly took the thermometer and put it under his tongue. The thermometer beeped frantically less than a minute later, sealing his fate even before Gus read the number.

"101.5," Gus read with a sense of victory. He raised an eyebrow at Shawn and waited. Shawn sighed and lowered his eyes, knowing when he'd lost. Gus didn't gloat as he simply said, "You probably picked it up from my family at Thanksgiving. It'd be best if you laid down and rested. If you can handle food, simple stuff like bread and butter would be best. I can get anything you'd like out of the dining hall."

Shawn's stomach flipped at the idea of eating and he shook his head. The room shook with him.

"Ok, that's fine. Think you can keep down water?"

"Yes," Shawn answered softly. He should be the one taking care of Gus, not the other way around. It was wrong, and every voice in his past was telling him he was wrong. He just needed to not be weak.

"Hey, you're doing good."

Shawn couldn't help the sharp laugh that exploded through his throat. A cough quickly followed and it took a minute before he was able to breathe normally again.

Gus waited to make sure he was done before going on. "If you have to think of it in a slave way, then you resting now means you get healthier faster. You'll be able to do your job at 100% in a few days instead of forcing yourself to work at a 50% deficit for a week or more."

"But I'd be working…" A slave had to be useful.

"Right now you're letting your body do the work. And this is why I saved those days off." Gus walked over to the snack basket and pulled out the water bottle. He held it out while searching Shawn's eyes for something.

A slave was whatever its master wanted. His master wanted him to rest. Friends helped each other. His friend wanted him to rest. It still felt wrong when he surrendered and took the bottle. "Ok…"

"Thank you," Gus said, his voice warm with sincerity. "I'm going to eat downstairs this morning and I'll bring up some easier to eat snacks. Just in case you decide to eat something later today. Do I need to give you any orders?"

"I'll be good." It was the wrong thing to say, but Shawn was too tired to think of the right thing.

Gus didn't react to the slave-phrase, but he also didn't leave the room until Shawn had slid back into his sleeping bag. Shawn fell asleep quickly and didn't even hear when his friend came back after breakfast.

By the next day, Shawn wasn't able to keep even water down.

His brain was too big for his skull, pressure shoved behind his eyes, and his body didn't know whether to be hot or cold, so it somehow did both at the same time. He made the mistake of opening the eyes and the room spun; he curled up with a groan. It was like his body knew he was allowed to be sick and was giving him five years of illnesses all at once.

The door clicked closed and he curled up tighter at the sound. Too loud. The floor swayed and his stomach clenched, and Gus' whisper drove a spike straight through his skull. "Hey, I've got you some medicine."

Just the idea of putting something in his mouth made Shawn scramble for the trash can. Only bile came up when he retched, and his master knelt next to him in concern. "Shawn…"

"'M 'kay," Shawn answered back exhaustedly.

"Sure, and I'm Janine Turner…"

It wouldn't be terrible if he was… a nice cold mountain sounded really nice now.

Wasn't 'nice' a kind of snow?

"I'm going to take your temperature again. Don't worry, we'll just do it under your arm. But I'm going to have to touch you, ok?"

"Kay…" It was like he was seven again, being taken care of like this. Except he wasn't supposed to be taken care of, right? He was supposed to be doing the taking care of…ing?

Painful beeping pierced his skull and he barely heard Gus' muttered, "Shit," over his whimper. All of those beatings, and it was going to be his own body that did him in.

"Look, I know you said that doctors weren't good, but…"

His cuffs locked to the cold table, leaving him bare and exposed for anyone to see. A clip held his collar in place as the doctor poked and prodded. Metal between his teeth, forced his mouth open. A hand patted his head as the needle drew closer.

"No doctor," Shawn gasped around the memory.

"Ok, but… this is really high."

"Doctors bad."

"Yes, but dying is worse."

"No doctor." Shawn opened his eyes, braving the light of the dim room so he could look his master in the eye as he pleaded, "Please."

"Damnit… I'll give you another day. But then we have to go, to get fluids in you if nothing else."

He could get better in a day. He had to get better in a day. No weakness.

"I know you just threw up, but do you think we could try the medicine? We really need to get that fever down…"

His master wanted something. A slave did what its master wanted. "Yeah." Shawn propped himself up on his elbows before seeing the bottle in Gus' hands. "Kid's stuff?"

"I figured it'd be easier to swallow than a pill," Gus said with a shrug as he measured out a cup-full of the red medicine. "Hope you don't mind cherry, it was the only flavor they had."

It didn't matter what it tasted like; he'd had worse. Shawn took the cup and knocked it back, begging his stomach to let it be. He needed to get better.

"There's water next to your head, I'll get a new liner for the trash, and I'm going to put something on your head…" Blessed coolness spread across Shawn's forehead with the feeling of flexible plastic. "I picked up some ice packs while I was out."

"Feels good," Shawn muttered. The pressure behind his temples ran away from the cold, leaving the front of his skull oddly empty. He opened his eyes, just to make sure some of the pressure was still there. "Real good."

"Well, when that warms up, there's another one in our fridge. Need me to check on you between classes?"

Friends took care of each other. "Almost finals. Y'Gotta do good. I'm ok."

"Ok… Sleep good."

It was an order Shawn was happy to follow.

The next day was a weekend, and Shawn was able to finish a bottle of water without throwing it back up. It earned him another day before Gus would call the doctor.

The day after, he was able to make the short walk to the bathroom and back without feeling like he was dying. His fever lowered to under 101 and Gus didn't mention the doctor at all.

Monday was when they had their next argument.

"You're still sick."

"But the two days of time off are done." Shawn wouldn't lose Gus money. Not after everything Gus had done for him. "I'm getting better, my fever is lower–"

"Because you still have a fever," Gus snapped back.

Shawn forced himself to keep going; he shouldn't be arguing like this. He should just be saying 'yes, sir'... "And I've rested more than I have in years. Please, let me do this."

Gus groaned and looked at his watch. "Fine, but I'm skipping my first class so you don't have to wait in the hall. Will you sit and relax until we have to go down there?"

Shawn finally gave into the impulse as he relaxed in relief. "Yes, sir."

"You're not inspiring much confidence, you know," Gus sighed. "Can you at least do your best to stay low energy at work?"

It would be so much easier to be a good slave if he wasn't such a weird master… Shawn raised a judgmental eyebrow and drawled, "Yes… I'll try to be low energy while I do exactly what someone orders me to at the exact energy level they order me to do it."

Gus clicked his tongue in annoyance, a trait he'd apparently picked up from his latest haircut appointment with Candice. "That doesn't mean you can't try."

"I'll try," Shawn agreed, though it wouldn't do any good. At least it made Gus happy.

Gus wasn't happy at the end of the day when Shawn had to admit that the janitor didn't care that he was sick and had still shocked him the normal amount of times.

The campus grew quiet as finals loomed ahead. Shawn was finally feeling back to full health by the weekend, but he was still stuck sitting in the room as Gus hunched over his desk and re-read all of his notes. Energy thrummed under his skin; he forced it to be quiet. Gus needed to study, and Shawn had already taken too much. He had to do better after allowing himself to be sick.

But he really, really, really needed to move. It was a siren's call that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he adjusted his position or jittered his legs. It didn't matter where, or why, or how, he just couldn't handle being still for another minute longer. Not after laying in bed for days. Not after being practically ordered to rest whenever he wasn't working. Not after staring at the same four walls for an eternity of a week.

He was rescued by a knock at the door, right before asking –begging– to stretch their legs for a few minutes. Gus grumbled under his breath as he walked to the door, "It's finals… This had better be–" he opened the door and froze. "Rowan?"

Shawn immediately climbed to his feet. If Rowan was here, then Abigail was here.

"Hi. I'm still here," Rowan answered, their lips twitching like they were sharing a private joke. Their hair was still soft and wavy, but they were back in their usual t-shirt and jeans. "Sorry I didn't email about it, but I kinda wanted to see that look on your face."

"Come on in. Is Penny– Abigail here too?"

God bless Gus for always knowing the right things to ask.

"Yeah, she wanted to get everything set up in the room."

Slaves existed to be useful. It was understandable, if not a bit disappointing. Still, at least that meant they'd see each other in the morning.

Gus stepped back, clearing the doorway. "Come on in, how are you holding up?"

"I guess I'm doing as well as expected. Especially with finals on top of it all." Rowan ran their hand through their hair with a rueful smile. "I know just one semester of college won't matter, but I still want to do good."

"So you don't think you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure yet. But that's not why I'm here..." They jerked their head towards the hall. "I was wondering if you'd like a break? I know schedules get crazy around this time, and I wanted to thank you. For being there and for… for teaching me. I have somewhere cool we could go."

"That sounds great, but…" Gus trailed off as he looked back at Shawn. It was low, but Shawn gave him pleading eyes back. They could go somewhere, he could see Abigail, he could do something… Gus smiled wryly and glanced at his desk before turning back to Rowan. "Yeah, we could do that."

Shawn already owed Gus his life, but somehow his gratitude still had room to grow.

"Great!" Rowan lit up. "You don't need to bring anything, just meet me at the bus stop downstairs in five minutes."

The door closed and Shawn spoke up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's pretty obvious that you need to get out of this room."

Shawn winced; he was supposed to be better at hiding how he was feeling. "Sorry…"

"Don't be." Gus looked at his desk with a sigh. "I probably need the break anyway. Are you good to go?"

"Yes," Shawn answered immediately. He was good to go several hours ago.

A small, fond smile graced Gus' face. "Well then, guess we have a surprise outing to go to."

The surprise outing ended up being a large building with a neon sign that showed two roller skates gliding across the roof. Rowan led them to an employee door and unlocked it. "I used to work here and the owner liked me. I decided it was time to cash in on a favor."

They flipped on a switch, and a large room lit up. The floors were covered by a dark carpet strewn with neon stars that were lit up by the flashing lights of the arcade games lining the wall. Rowan waved them towards a long desk with skates behind it. "Go ahead and pick out your size, I'm going to get the lights and music going."

Shawn couldn't help the smile spreading across his face as Gus unclicked his leash. He hadn't been to a skate rink in years. Even when he'd been free, he'd only gotten to go when a friend had a birthday party.

Rowan hesitated as they stared at Gus and then they slowly reached out to unclick Abigail's collar as well. They still didn't move as they looked back and forth in confusion before finally ordering, "Abigail, follow me."

Gus sighed quietly, clearly having caught the moment and knowing it meant Rowan still didn't think of slaves the exact same as him yet. But they were so much better than so many other masters; did it really matter that they did things differently?

"Here's yours."

Shawn snapped out of his thoughts and looked around, seeing a pair of skates being held out to him. His grin grew larger as he took them with a nod of thanks. He'd been hoping Gus would let him skate too.

"So, is this something else you're mysteriously good at?" Gus asked as he grabbed his own skates.

"I didn't used to be terrible, but I pretty much only went as fast as possible," Shawna answered easily. Gus liked learning things about him, and it was safe to share.

"That sounds like exactly what you need now."

A disco light turned on, spreading circles of light throughout the hall as a cheerful song started.

"I rode my bicycle past your window last night…"

The classic tune continued, singing about skates and keys as Shawn pulled the skates on and did up the laces. The strange feeling of weights being attached to his feet tried to pull him into the far past when he'd tried building his own skate ramp out of a board of plywood and his dad's pick-up truck. He let out a breath and stayed in the present as he put his feet down and tested how the skates moved.

It had been years; would he remember how to do it?

Gus stood up and immediately wobbled, his feet rolling out from under him. Only his dance abilities saved him as he recovered, almost making the awkward kicks look graceful. Shawn found himself much more confident in his own abilities afterwards; he had to be able to do better than that.

He stood up and glided a few inches, his mind instantly going blank. How did he go forward? Was he supposed to be doing this? What if he ran into something, what if he hurt someone, what if he failed? What if his master was just testing him?

"Wait, Shawn's skating too?"

His master skated closer; he wasn't being good.

"Yeah. What's the point of letting them come with if we don't let them have fun?" Gus hesitated before adding, "It'd probably be nice if they could talk too..."

"Uh... Sure."

Shawn's heartrate slowed slightly as Rowan gave a hesitant order to Abigail about unrestricted speech. His friend wanted him to have fun. Gus wanted him to have fun. He was ok.

Gus curved into an easy stop like he'd been skating all of his life. Had it been an act earlier? Was it a test? Shawn shook his head; he needed the bad thoughts to go away.

"You ok?" Gus asked quietly as Rowan grabbed two pairs of skates from behind the counter. Abigail looked just as overwhelmed as her master at their first experience with Gus' full level of insane.

"Y-Yeah. Slave-mode just got loud. Sorry." He should be better at that by now.

"You're doing good," Gus said, easily soothing the scared beast inside of Shawn's skull. "It's a new place and we're not alone. I was happy the second you took the skates."

He was making his master happy. "Thanks," Shawn said quietly. He hated that he still needed those reassurances, but it was also the quickest way for the slave thoughts to quiet back down again.

"No problem." Gus gave him a big smile before pushing off, making his way to the opening to the skate rink. His movements were deliberately slow, almost like he was reminding someone how to do it.

Shawn let out a breath and followed, mirroring the movements. He was finally moving.

The skate rink took a moment to adjust to as his skates suddenly wanted to go faster. He stumbled several times as he tried to compensate for his longer legs and higher center of gravity before he found his groove. It wasn't long before he was making the circle easily, his legs moving in time to the 80's greatest hits that were playing. Blood rushed in his veins and the ground passed under his feet and he urged the skates to go faster. The walls rushed by in a blur, his body was in constant motion, the need in his body sang at finally getting what it wanted.

He passed Gus several times, and the large grin on his friend's face gave Shawn an extra spurt of joy that had him leaning down and kicking harder to give him a final burst of speed to finally burn off the frantic energy. He wasn't free, but he was close.

His heart was pounding when he finally had to slow down, and the disco ball changed, the dots of white turning into spots of color that danced across the walls and floor. He finally became aware of the fact that he wasn't the only being in the universe. Gus was skating simply but effectively, circling the rink with a controlled speed. Rowan skated backwards, keeping up an animated conversation with him. But where was Abigail?

It didn't take long to find her clutching the barrier between the carpet and the rink, her face locked in an indecisiveness. That wouldn't do. Gus had helped him; he could help her.

Lyrics started playing with gently strumming strings.

"You with the sad eyes, don't be discouraged…"

Shawn skated gently into the barrier and spoke softly. "If your master didn't want you to do it, they wouldn't have given you the skates."

She nodded, but still didn't move.

"Oh I realize, it's hard to take courage, in a world full of people…"

"Do you want help?"

"Yes," she answered back, just barely over a whisper. Shawn held out his hand, and she gripped it desperately, her shaking easy to feel. He kept his movements smooth as he braced himself and pulled her onto the rink.

"You can lose sight of it all, the darkness inside you can make you feel so small…"

"One skate stays on the ground, the other pushes it forward," Shawn explained quietly as he demonstrated. Abigail nodded, her grip tightening as she struggled to keep her feet under her body. "It's not a test. You're doing what your master wants."

Abigail swallowed nervously before making a small movement with her feet, trying to copy Shawn's.

The song continued, speaking of lost laughter and the pressures of the world. Abigail's movements slowly became surer as Shawn kept her from failing. Gus caught his eye as he and Rowan passed them, and they shared a look of understanding.

"...just call me up, 'Cause I will always be there…"

Slowly, Abigail leaned on Shawn less and less until they were skating side by side, matching each other's movements and holding hands.

"And I see your true colors, shining through…"

Reds, greens, and yellows passed over Abigail's face, highlighting her miniscule smile as she pushed herself forward. Shawn matched her speed and her eyes lit up.

"I see your true colors, and that's why I love you…"

Shawn let go of her hand, letting her skate on her own. Abigail's smile became easier to see as she didn't stumble or fall. A blue circle made her eyes glint in an almost mischievous way, and she pushed herself even faster while shooting Shawn a challenging look. He took the challenge and raced her around the circle, always staying within arm's reach in case she fell.

It took him completely by surprise when she suddenly veered towards him, cutting him off so she reached the barrier to the rink first. And for the first time, he heard her laugh.

It was the most beautiful sound in the universe.

They both gently panted for breath and the song continued to play in the background, the lyrics repeating itself as a rainbow of colors surrounded them. Abigail looked up, and Shawn found himself lost in everything he could see in her eyes. Warmth, caring, playfulness, understanding… She tilted her chin further up, drawing attention to her lips, soft and pink with a faint smile still playing at the corners. He searched her eyes for something new, for permission, and he found it.

He noticed her smell as he drew closer than he'd ever been before. Fresh linen and joy in the darkest of places. It was entirely possible he was making up the second half, but it really didn't matter when their lips met and the world melted away.

They fit together like puzzle pieces, instinctively knowing when and how to move against each other. Shawn's hand slowly came up to cup the back of her head as her hand ran down his shoulders and stopped in the small of his back. Their kiss deepened and Shawn memorized every detail, every touch and sound and smell as lights surrounded them, keeping them safe from the rest of the universe.

It didn't matter what happened after today; he'd always have this to remember.

Author whisper: The song was too perfect to worry about timing. Just imagine it was on repeat for a while.