FIC: Angles by inlightofvisa - T - Shawn/Carlton (2/?)
Title: Angles (2/?)
Author: inlightofvisa
Rating: T (Boy-kissing, language, maybe violence?)
Characters/Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. [Thank-you to Psychfic.net for the disclaimer].
Word Count: 667
Warnings/Spoilers: Erm... none? Established.
Summary: Everything looks good when photographed at a certain angle with a certain lighting. Even bodies.
Notes: I started this forever ago and lost motivation. HELP ME GET IT BACK.
Jump to chapter 1 2 3
Back to Chapter 1
---
Gus brings Shawn back to the Psych office because he completely refuses to drive anywhere near Lassiter's house.
"That man scares me Shawn, even if you're dating him," had been his explanation. Shawn had just thrown popcorn at him and called him a myopic Chihuahua.
Now he was waiting for his handsome Irish detective to come by and pick his sorry butt up for dinner. His motorcycle was currently vacationing (in a loose sense of the term) at his dad's house. In other words, he had done something that Henry deemed "too dangerous" and so the former cop had confiscated the speeding death trap. Shawn had almost cried. He opted for kicking and screaming instead. His dad just gave him The Look, so he went for skulking around the house until Henry ordered him out.
Shawn was half asleep in his swivel chair when he heard a firm knock at the door. His mouth slipped into an easy smile. He'd recognize the sound of his boyfriend's knuckles on wood anywhere. As he swung the door open he moved in close to Lassiter's personal space.
"Hey Lass," he murmured, fiddling with the head detective's light blue tie.
Carlton grunted in response, taking Shawn's hand in his.
"You ready for dinner?"
Shawn nodded enthusiastically.
"So where are you taking me you handsome fiend, you?"
Lassiter mumbles something that Shawn doesn't quite hear.
"Huh?"
The older man rolls his eyes.
"Chinese. This place has really good sweet and sour pork. There are pineapples."
Shawn smiles and hugs his boyfriend.
"You know me too well."
Carlton smirks in response, but still returns the hug.
"You have easy tastes to guess."
Shawn swats at his arm, racing to get to the passenger side of the Crown Vic.
"Don't say that, you make me sound like I'm easy."
Lassiter responds with a snort.
"You kinda are."
Shawn tries to look indignant, but it probably looks like a constipated pout.
"Am not."
Carlton closes his door and turns the key. The car hums to life as the head detective takes it out of the parking lot. Once they're driving on the main road, he turns to Shawn and mouths "are too." He looks away when Shawn tries to answer.
"I'm not having this argument right now, Shawn."
The younger man grins cheekily and folds his arms, content with the silence for once. The minutes tick by before Shawn opens his mouth again.
"Lassie?"
A grunt.
"Can I tell you what I think about the case?"
Shawn can feel the car slow down a touch.
"Shawn, what did we say about this?"
The fake psychic sighs.
"Since when do I follow rules?"
"Well played."
Silence again, but this time it's of the awkward variety.
"I have a feeling that this isn't what it seems like. Like it's bigger than what it looks like right now."
Lassiter eyes him warily before focusing on the road again.
"How do you know you're right? I mean I understand the hyper-observant part of you but what makes you say that you're right?"
Shawn sighs, slumping against the car window.
"I dunno. It's a hunch."
Carlton furrows his brow.
"I'm gong to need more than that." He gulps. "Shawn, I don't want this to be a serial killer any more than you do, but I can't ask the chief to dedicate a large amount of manpower without a suitable justification."
Shawn fidgets. The car slows down and pulls into the restaurant's parking lot.
"I know you're bound by red tape, but maybe I can do something. A vision maybe?"
Carlton exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shawn's about to say that he's serious, but his boyfriend stops him with a hand.
"Can we just enjoy our dinner? I know that normally I'd enjoy casework over moo goo gai pan, but I think I need this evening just for us."
Shawn blushes, biting his bottom lip as he opens the car door.
"Whatever you need, Lassie. Whatever you need."
Chapter 3
Author: inlightofvisa
Rating: T (Boy-kissing, language, maybe violence?)
Characters/Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. [Thank-you to Psychfic.net for the disclaimer].
Word Count: 667
Warnings/Spoilers: Erm... none? Established.
Summary: Everything looks good when photographed at a certain angle with a certain lighting. Even bodies.
Notes: I started this forever ago and lost motivation. HELP ME GET IT BACK.
Jump to chapter 1 2 3
Back to Chapter 1
---
Gus brings Shawn back to the Psych office because he completely refuses to drive anywhere near Lassiter's house.
"That man scares me Shawn, even if you're dating him," had been his explanation. Shawn had just thrown popcorn at him and called him a myopic Chihuahua.
Now he was waiting for his handsome Irish detective to come by and pick his sorry butt up for dinner. His motorcycle was currently vacationing (in a loose sense of the term) at his dad's house. In other words, he had done something that Henry deemed "too dangerous" and so the former cop had confiscated the speeding death trap. Shawn had almost cried. He opted for kicking and screaming instead. His dad just gave him The Look, so he went for skulking around the house until Henry ordered him out.
Shawn was half asleep in his swivel chair when he heard a firm knock at the door. His mouth slipped into an easy smile. He'd recognize the sound of his boyfriend's knuckles on wood anywhere. As he swung the door open he moved in close to Lassiter's personal space.
"Hey Lass," he murmured, fiddling with the head detective's light blue tie.
Carlton grunted in response, taking Shawn's hand in his.
"You ready for dinner?"
Shawn nodded enthusiastically.
"So where are you taking me you handsome fiend, you?"
Lassiter mumbles something that Shawn doesn't quite hear.
"Huh?"
The older man rolls his eyes.
"Chinese. This place has really good sweet and sour pork. There are pineapples."
Shawn smiles and hugs his boyfriend.
"You know me too well."
Carlton smirks in response, but still returns the hug.
"You have easy tastes to guess."
Shawn swats at his arm, racing to get to the passenger side of the Crown Vic.
"Don't say that, you make me sound like I'm easy."
Lassiter responds with a snort.
"You kinda are."
Shawn tries to look indignant, but it probably looks like a constipated pout.
"Am not."
Carlton closes his door and turns the key. The car hums to life as the head detective takes it out of the parking lot. Once they're driving on the main road, he turns to Shawn and mouths "are too." He looks away when Shawn tries to answer.
"I'm not having this argument right now, Shawn."
The younger man grins cheekily and folds his arms, content with the silence for once. The minutes tick by before Shawn opens his mouth again.
"Lassie?"
A grunt.
"Can I tell you what I think about the case?"
Shawn can feel the car slow down a touch.
"Shawn, what did we say about this?"
The fake psychic sighs.
"Since when do I follow rules?"
"Well played."
Silence again, but this time it's of the awkward variety.
"I have a feeling that this isn't what it seems like. Like it's bigger than what it looks like right now."
Lassiter eyes him warily before focusing on the road again.
"How do you know you're right? I mean I understand the hyper-observant part of you but what makes you say that you're right?"
Shawn sighs, slumping against the car window.
"I dunno. It's a hunch."
Carlton furrows his brow.
"I'm gong to need more than that." He gulps. "Shawn, I don't want this to be a serial killer any more than you do, but I can't ask the chief to dedicate a large amount of manpower without a suitable justification."
Shawn fidgets. The car slows down and pulls into the restaurant's parking lot.
"I know you're bound by red tape, but maybe I can do something. A vision maybe?"
Carlton exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shawn's about to say that he's serious, but his boyfriend stops him with a hand.
"Can we just enjoy our dinner? I know that normally I'd enjoy casework over moo goo gai pan, but I think I need this evening just for us."
Shawn blushes, biting his bottom lip as he opens the car door.
"Whatever you need, Lassie. Whatever you need."
Chapter 3