Informed Consent(ery), Psych FanFic
Master Fic List
TITLE: Informed Consent(ery)
RATING: PG-13ish
CHARACTERS: Shawn/Carlton
WORD COUNT: 1000ish
WARNINGS: Some language. Some kissing. Nothing wild.
SUMMARY: For psychflashfic's Challenge #5: Borrowing Titles (House). Shawn thinks Carlton deserves to know the facts.
AO3 Link
Disclaimer: Don't own, yadda yadda.
Author's Note: This one was surprisingly difficult. I'm not especially happy with it, but I don't think it's bad...just not what I set out to write. I went over the limit by a bit...but I cut as much as I thought I could without making the story any worse. So I think it's like 50...maybe 100 words over. And I have no clue why I wrote in present-tense...because I hate writing in present tense. *shrug*
Also, I've noticed I keep writing these two men in bed (sometimes even without smut). But honestly, I think the only place they're actually gonna talk to each other is the bedroom.
Un-betaed, but rewritten numerous times (so hopefully I've caught all the mistakes).
-----------------------------
"Lassie?" Shawn whispers from where his face is pressed against Carlton's neck.
"What?" Carlton grumbles. He feels sluggish and blissful and just wants to float off to a glorious sex-induced slumber. Shawn's babbling has never been something Carlton associates with a good night's sleep.
"I need to tell you something." Carlton suddenly finds himself wide-awake. Victoria used the old 'we need to talk' line often enough Carlton recognizes it when he hears it. He blinks up at the dim ceiling, waiting for Shawn to roll away from him. To be honest, he's surprised their little 'arrangement' has lasted this long. Shawn’s not exactly known for his attention span. Four weeks and counting with Shawn in and out of his bed and Carlton's pretty sure Shawn's ready to move on.
But Shawn hasn't moved and Carlton doesn't know what that means, especially as he feels the fingers stroking lightly through what Shawn affectionately calls his Sternum Bush.
Shawn props himself up with one arm and stares down at Carlton for a long moment. The room’s dim but not entirely dark and Carlton watches Shawn lean close. He can't read the meaning behind the kiss Shawn gives him, but he knows something's troubling the younger man.
"Shawn..." Carlton prods impatiently. Shawn clears his throat.
"I just feel the urge to tell you, in the interest of informed consistency..."
"Informed consistency?" Carlton interrupts in confusion. Shawn looks down at him and frowns.
"Yeah, you know, when someone doesn't agree to something until they have all the facts." Carlton rolls his eyes.
"That's informed consent, Shawn," he corrects.
"I've heard it both ways," Shawn says with a shrug. Carlton gives him a tired glare until Shawn sighs. "Anyway, in the interest of informed consent-ery..." Carlton bites his tongue. "...there's something you should probably know."
Carlton can't help but tense up. He's heard those words too many times before; all the way back to Trent Kroger two weeks before high school graduation telling him he's also been messing around with Jane Wilkes and guess what: They've got gonorrhea. As much as Carlton hates to hear the words 'we need to talk', 'there's something you should know' always feels like a knife to his gut. Nevermind the fact he's built a career on people telling him things he needs to know. This is too...intimate.
"Carlton?" He looks up and realizes Shawn's watching him closely.
"I'm listening," Carlton whispers, trying not to sound pissed (or hurt) before he has reason to. (At least this time around he's been smart enough to insist they use condoms and it's doubtful he'll have to go through that embarrassing doctor's visit again.)
Shawn shifts away from him and Carlton feels his gut drop as Shawn slides to the edge of the bed, putting his back to Carlton. If it's a bad idea to turn your back on Shawn, it's an even worse one to let him turn his back on you. He watches Shawn's back flex as he takes a deep breath.
"I'm not a psychic," Shawn says softly. Carlton stares at the back of Shawn's head, waiting for him to continue his confession. After thirty seconds of silence, Carlton props himself up on an elbow.
"And...?" he prods nervously. Shawn's head whips around in his direction.
"And?" Shawn repeats, confused. Carlton sits up, scooting back against the headboard. "I just told you I'm not a psychic," Shawn says it in a quiet tone Carlton thinks sounds oddly like uncertainty. It takes a moment before it finally hits Carlton: that's really all Shawn's trying to tell him. The tension leaves in a rush and he laughs, long and low. Shawn's staring at him like he's grown a fourth head and Carlton only laughs harder. His head thumps back against the headboard as he tries to think seriously again.
When Carlton finally manages to take a settling breath he looks over to see Shawn still has a stricken look on his face. Carlton can't wipe the smile away, but he manages to put a lid on the laughter as he reaches for Shawn.
"C'mere," he says, tugging on Shawn's hand. Shawn has a cautious look on his face but he lets Carlton pull him close for a kiss. Carlton threads a hand through Shawn' hair and holds him close. He doesn't quite know how to tell the other man how relieved he is, but he hopes the kiss helps. Shawn pulls back first, still looking confused. Carlton smiles, rubbing his thumb lightly against the nape of Shawn's neck.
"Spencer, I've always known you're full of shit," Carlton whispers in the most soothing tone he can manage. He kisses Shawn again, briefly. "Did I ever act like I believed any of it?" Shawn frowns and shakes his head.
"You didn't arrest me, either," he points out, finally scooting closer to Carlton so their thighs touch. Carlton smiles, resting a hand on Shawn's hip.
"Yeah well, I like watching you squirm." Shawn grins and leans in to kiss Carlton more deeply.
"Why the sudden urge to tell me this?" Carlton gasps as Shawn's mouth moves along his neck.
"I told you, Lassie," Shawn murmurs near the collarbone. "It's all for the uniformed consent."
"Informed consent," Carlton corrects absently, more focused on sliding a hand along Shawn's chest.
"Sure." Shawn bites lightly on Carlton's shoulder. "Just don't want you sleeping with a guy without knowing all the facts." He lifts his head to claim Carlton's mouth again.
"How considerate of you," Carlton mocks against Shawn's lips. "But you do know informed consent is a complicated legal..."
"Shut up, Carlton," Shawn growls and pulls Carlton down to the mattress with him.
Carlton rolls on top of Shawn. He braces himself with one arm to hover above Shawn, gazing down at him. "What were you afraid I was going to say?" Shawn asks softly. Carlton ducks his head, embarrassed by his own insecurities.
"It doesn't matter," Carlton says, forcing himself to meet Shawn's eyes. Shawn's at the very least earned Carlton's honesty, but Carlton can only admit so much (even to himself). Eye contact is the best he can give just yet. "You didn't say it." He leans down to press his lips briefly against Shawn's.
"Just do me a favor," Carlton adds as an afterthought. He smiles as Shawn looks up at him in interest. "Never say 'we need to talk.'" Shawn laughs and pulls Carlton down on top of him.
"No worries, Lassie," he whispers huskily in Carlton's ear. "I can always think of better uses for that mouth."
/end
TITLE: Informed Consent(ery)
RATING: PG-13ish
CHARACTERS: Shawn/Carlton
WORD COUNT: 1000ish
WARNINGS: Some language. Some kissing. Nothing wild.
SUMMARY: For psychflashfic's Challenge #5: Borrowing Titles (House). Shawn thinks Carlton deserves to know the facts.
AO3 Link
Disclaimer: Don't own, yadda yadda.
Author's Note: This one was surprisingly difficult. I'm not especially happy with it, but I don't think it's bad...just not what I set out to write. I went over the limit by a bit...but I cut as much as I thought I could without making the story any worse. So I think it's like 50...maybe 100 words over. And I have no clue why I wrote in present-tense...because I hate writing in present tense. *shrug*
Also, I've noticed I keep writing these two men in bed (sometimes even without smut). But honestly, I think the only place they're actually gonna talk to each other is the bedroom.
Un-betaed, but rewritten numerous times (so hopefully I've caught all the mistakes).
-----------------------------
"Lassie?" Shawn whispers from where his face is pressed against Carlton's neck.
"What?" Carlton grumbles. He feels sluggish and blissful and just wants to float off to a glorious sex-induced slumber. Shawn's babbling has never been something Carlton associates with a good night's sleep.
"I need to tell you something." Carlton suddenly finds himself wide-awake. Victoria used the old 'we need to talk' line often enough Carlton recognizes it when he hears it. He blinks up at the dim ceiling, waiting for Shawn to roll away from him. To be honest, he's surprised their little 'arrangement' has lasted this long. Shawn’s not exactly known for his attention span. Four weeks and counting with Shawn in and out of his bed and Carlton's pretty sure Shawn's ready to move on.
But Shawn hasn't moved and Carlton doesn't know what that means, especially as he feels the fingers stroking lightly through what Shawn affectionately calls his Sternum Bush.
Shawn props himself up with one arm and stares down at Carlton for a long moment. The room’s dim but not entirely dark and Carlton watches Shawn lean close. He can't read the meaning behind the kiss Shawn gives him, but he knows something's troubling the younger man.
"Shawn..." Carlton prods impatiently. Shawn clears his throat.
"I just feel the urge to tell you, in the interest of informed consistency..."
"Informed consistency?" Carlton interrupts in confusion. Shawn looks down at him and frowns.
"Yeah, you know, when someone doesn't agree to something until they have all the facts." Carlton rolls his eyes.
"That's informed consent, Shawn," he corrects.
"I've heard it both ways," Shawn says with a shrug. Carlton gives him a tired glare until Shawn sighs. "Anyway, in the interest of informed consent-ery..." Carlton bites his tongue. "...there's something you should probably know."
Carlton can't help but tense up. He's heard those words too many times before; all the way back to Trent Kroger two weeks before high school graduation telling him he's also been messing around with Jane Wilkes and guess what: They've got gonorrhea. As much as Carlton hates to hear the words 'we need to talk', 'there's something you should know' always feels like a knife to his gut. Nevermind the fact he's built a career on people telling him things he needs to know. This is too...intimate.
"Carlton?" He looks up and realizes Shawn's watching him closely.
"I'm listening," Carlton whispers, trying not to sound pissed (or hurt) before he has reason to. (At least this time around he's been smart enough to insist they use condoms and it's doubtful he'll have to go through that embarrassing doctor's visit again.)
Shawn shifts away from him and Carlton feels his gut drop as Shawn slides to the edge of the bed, putting his back to Carlton. If it's a bad idea to turn your back on Shawn, it's an even worse one to let him turn his back on you. He watches Shawn's back flex as he takes a deep breath.
"I'm not a psychic," Shawn says softly. Carlton stares at the back of Shawn's head, waiting for him to continue his confession. After thirty seconds of silence, Carlton props himself up on an elbow.
"And...?" he prods nervously. Shawn's head whips around in his direction.
"And?" Shawn repeats, confused. Carlton sits up, scooting back against the headboard. "I just told you I'm not a psychic," Shawn says it in a quiet tone Carlton thinks sounds oddly like uncertainty. It takes a moment before it finally hits Carlton: that's really all Shawn's trying to tell him. The tension leaves in a rush and he laughs, long and low. Shawn's staring at him like he's grown a fourth head and Carlton only laughs harder. His head thumps back against the headboard as he tries to think seriously again.
When Carlton finally manages to take a settling breath he looks over to see Shawn still has a stricken look on his face. Carlton can't wipe the smile away, but he manages to put a lid on the laughter as he reaches for Shawn.
"C'mere," he says, tugging on Shawn's hand. Shawn has a cautious look on his face but he lets Carlton pull him close for a kiss. Carlton threads a hand through Shawn' hair and holds him close. He doesn't quite know how to tell the other man how relieved he is, but he hopes the kiss helps. Shawn pulls back first, still looking confused. Carlton smiles, rubbing his thumb lightly against the nape of Shawn's neck.
"Spencer, I've always known you're full of shit," Carlton whispers in the most soothing tone he can manage. He kisses Shawn again, briefly. "Did I ever act like I believed any of it?" Shawn frowns and shakes his head.
"You didn't arrest me, either," he points out, finally scooting closer to Carlton so their thighs touch. Carlton smiles, resting a hand on Shawn's hip.
"Yeah well, I like watching you squirm." Shawn grins and leans in to kiss Carlton more deeply.
"Why the sudden urge to tell me this?" Carlton gasps as Shawn's mouth moves along his neck.
"I told you, Lassie," Shawn murmurs near the collarbone. "It's all for the uniformed consent."
"Informed consent," Carlton corrects absently, more focused on sliding a hand along Shawn's chest.
"Sure." Shawn bites lightly on Carlton's shoulder. "Just don't want you sleeping with a guy without knowing all the facts." He lifts his head to claim Carlton's mouth again.
"How considerate of you," Carlton mocks against Shawn's lips. "But you do know informed consent is a complicated legal..."
"Shut up, Carlton," Shawn growls and pulls Carlton down to the mattress with him.
Carlton rolls on top of Shawn. He braces himself with one arm to hover above Shawn, gazing down at him. "What were you afraid I was going to say?" Shawn asks softly. Carlton ducks his head, embarrassed by his own insecurities.
"It doesn't matter," Carlton says, forcing himself to meet Shawn's eyes. Shawn's at the very least earned Carlton's honesty, but Carlton can only admit so much (even to himself). Eye contact is the best he can give just yet. "You didn't say it." He leans down to press his lips briefly against Shawn's.
"Just do me a favor," Carlton adds as an afterthought. He smiles as Shawn looks up at him in interest. "Never say 'we need to talk.'" Shawn laughs and pulls Carlton down on top of him.
"No worries, Lassie," he whispers huskily in Carlton's ear. "I can always think of better uses for that mouth."
/end