Psych Fic: "Eco-Friendly" (Shawn/Lassiter, PG-13)
Title: Eco-Friendly
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG-13 for suggestive innuendo
Length: 460 words
Notes: For the Porn Battle at wisteria_'s lj. Prompt of "Shawn/Lassiter, green". I have never written Psych before...yeah. I was feeling random.
Summary: "Just think of all the money you'll be saving."
“Spencer, what the hell did you do to my light bulbs?”
Parroted back at him, distractedly: “Your light bulbs?”
“Did I stutter?” Lassiter taps the fixture he’s just removed the lampshade from and scowls. “They’ve all gone dim! The light is too soft: you can’t see a thing.”
The source of Lassiter’s frustration smiles in jeans and a brightly-colored t-shirt. His expression makes him look as dim as the bulbs.
“Ease up, Lassie. I just switched them out for the energy-saving kind. It’s all the rage now.”
“It’s funny you should mention rage,” Lassiter begins, but Spencer cuts him off with a dramatic wave of his finger.
“Now, now, it’s alright. Just listen to Uncle Shawn. The bulbs start out dim, that’s how they save electricity. It’s all part of their systematic phosphorescent incandeso-electropophy.”
At Lassiter’s expression, he shrugs matter-of-factly. “It’s very complicated. You wouldn’t understand. The point is, just wait a second. They’ll get brighter.”
Lassiter watches the bulb.
“It’s not getting brighter.”
"Okay, maybe not a literal second; more like a minute,” Spencer says dismissively.
He continues in an informative tone: “You know, you really should try to relax a little more. I realize as being of the strong Irish descent you’re already highly-disposed towards having high blood pressure, and your stress level just isn’t helping.”
Lassiter just stares at him. Spencer speaks more softly, with an encouraging smile.
“You know what would help you relax? A fruit smoothie. Would you like a fruit smoothie?”
“Where did you get the idea for this energy-saving bulb nonsense anyway?”
“Oh well, my dad had them first, and then Gus and I had the brilliant idea to put them in at our office. We’re getting the whole works outfitted: Brita water filters, recyclable paper, rented plants.” He smiles with what Lassiter can only describe as a disproportionate amount of excitement.
“The Psych agency is going green!”
There’s a pause.
“Great,” Lassiter finally deadpans. Spencer ignores him, instead pointing at the light bulb behind him.
“See? I told you it would only take a moment,” he declares smugly.
Lassiter gives it a close, scrutinizing look. “Well, I guess it’s about as bright as the old ones. Not quite though.”
“Are you kidding?” Spencer protests. “That is some top-quality brightness, that right there. Just think of all the money you’ll be saving that you can spend on…oh, I don’t know.”
Both his eyebrows and voice take on an overt suggestiveness. “Handcuffs. Body paint. Flavored lube, perhaps.”
“Spencer, you are a pervert,” Lassiter says flatly.
“Oh yeah? Well, then you’re the guy who’s sleeping with a pervert, Lassie,” Spencer says mildly. “And what does that make you?”
Lassiter growls low in his throat. “Come here.”
He grabs onto Spencer, and turns off the light.
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG-13 for suggestive innuendo
Length: 460 words
Notes: For the Porn Battle at wisteria_'s lj. Prompt of "Shawn/Lassiter, green". I have never written Psych before...yeah. I was feeling random.
Summary: "Just think of all the money you'll be saving."
“Spencer, what the hell did you do to my light bulbs?”
Parroted back at him, distractedly: “Your light bulbs?”
“Did I stutter?” Lassiter taps the fixture he’s just removed the lampshade from and scowls. “They’ve all gone dim! The light is too soft: you can’t see a thing.”
The source of Lassiter’s frustration smiles in jeans and a brightly-colored t-shirt. His expression makes him look as dim as the bulbs.
“Ease up, Lassie. I just switched them out for the energy-saving kind. It’s all the rage now.”
“It’s funny you should mention rage,” Lassiter begins, but Spencer cuts him off with a dramatic wave of his finger.
“Now, now, it’s alright. Just listen to Uncle Shawn. The bulbs start out dim, that’s how they save electricity. It’s all part of their systematic phosphorescent incandeso-electropophy.”
At Lassiter’s expression, he shrugs matter-of-factly. “It’s very complicated. You wouldn’t understand. The point is, just wait a second. They’ll get brighter.”
Lassiter watches the bulb.
“It’s not getting brighter.”
"Okay, maybe not a literal second; more like a minute,” Spencer says dismissively.
He continues in an informative tone: “You know, you really should try to relax a little more. I realize as being of the strong Irish descent you’re already highly-disposed towards having high blood pressure, and your stress level just isn’t helping.”
Lassiter just stares at him. Spencer speaks more softly, with an encouraging smile.
“You know what would help you relax? A fruit smoothie. Would you like a fruit smoothie?”
“Where did you get the idea for this energy-saving bulb nonsense anyway?”
“Oh well, my dad had them first, and then Gus and I had the brilliant idea to put them in at our office. We’re getting the whole works outfitted: Brita water filters, recyclable paper, rented plants.” He smiles with what Lassiter can only describe as a disproportionate amount of excitement.
“The Psych agency is going green!”
There’s a pause.
“Great,” Lassiter finally deadpans. Spencer ignores him, instead pointing at the light bulb behind him.
“See? I told you it would only take a moment,” he declares smugly.
Lassiter gives it a close, scrutinizing look. “Well, I guess it’s about as bright as the old ones. Not quite though.”
“Are you kidding?” Spencer protests. “That is some top-quality brightness, that right there. Just think of all the money you’ll be saving that you can spend on…oh, I don’t know.”
Both his eyebrows and voice take on an overt suggestiveness. “Handcuffs. Body paint. Flavored lube, perhaps.”
“Spencer, you are a pervert,” Lassiter says flatly.
“Oh yeah? Well, then you’re the guy who’s sleeping with a pervert, Lassie,” Spencer says mildly. “And what does that make you?”
Lassiter growls low in his throat. “Come here.”
He grabs onto Spencer, and turns off the light.