psychkinkmeme - anon - Devil in the Details
A/n - I must have missed this episode or something, so I'm just going to go off what you said at the top. "I know about Mr. Reno..." part, ok? If something’s wrong, just tell me, alright? I’ll fix it. Wish me luck! Ok, screw that because I’m too lazy to erase it - I just rewatched it. But I’d still appreciate the luck, thanks.
***
He had been his teacher! His teacher! He himself had only been twelve years, four months and two days old (yes, he had it down to the day). He didn’t know any better. So when he had called him in after class that day, he had felt that odd sensation that you get right before something bad was going to happen-he could remember it.
He gave him a note and told him to come back after school. At the time, he had thought nothing of it and resolved to keep it to himself and actually go for once because Gus was out of town for a funeral or a wedding or something, his dad was going to come home late because of a weird seminar he had to give three times up in San Fran and his mom was working late-which meant he had all day to himself and he couldn’t betray his mother’s hopes for him.
He could still care less about his father, though.
So Shawn had shown up.
And it had been his first time. Mr. Reno had locked the door behind him and pinned him to the wall. In an instant, something was going off in his shop class room and then his jeans were around his ankles. Shawn had tried to fight at first, but then a clean rag (and those were hard to come by in this room) had been shoved in his mouth and his hands were tied with his own belt, held behind him as the man he had once looked up to ravaged his body.
He’d returned home and not eaten, too sick to his stomach and confused to figure out what that was-having a dick up his ass had hurt, but then something had happened, and then he had enjoyed it. He forced himself to go to school the next day-he was lying to his dad that he was fine because he knew his skin was pale and he still was too confused, but, for once, Henry hadn’t done anything about it
He returned home that day with his first A in that class. His mom had been so proud-Henry had pointed out that he had been working hard for once, but he still didn’t care-and he figured that it was ok, as long as he was quiet about it and getting good grades.
It happened thirty-seven times like that and twice where he was bent over the table, forced to moan as loud as he could until his throat was raw, in total. He told his parents that the reason he was getting good grades was because he was staying behind in school with a couple other students who had come in mid-year to get it up.
He cried over it one-hundred and twenty times without ever being caught. He couldn’t believe it-his dad was a cop and his mom a psychologist and they couldn’t even figure out what happened. He figured that didn’t matter all too much, anyway-at the time, he hadn’t known what rape was, believe it or not.
And then Henry had ‘brought home a case’ and held his mom against him for a long time until she asked what was wrong. He explained about the rape case and how he knew he wasn’t supposed to be affected by them, but it had been a twelve-year-old girl and who the hell does that to a child? Shawn had had to ask what rape was three times before they finally decided that he was old enough to know what rape was (but not what sex was).
He had placed the tack there the next day. He had no reason to be guilty about possibly being the cause of his blood-poisoning, but his mom had ‘brought him up right’ and so anything he did to hurt someone else hurt him.
He hadn’t told anyone the reasoning behind the tack-the real reason. He’d said he’d gotten bored. He didn’t tell anyone Mr. Reno’s favorite… pastime.
***
Shawn sat up straight, gasping from the shock of his dream. He hadn’t thought about it in fucking years-how long ago was that now? Eighteen years?
“You ok, Spencer?” He looked over at Lassie for a moment and blinked, trying to remember why there were a few cartons of Chinese food on the stick-shift between them, quite a few coffee’s strewn everywhere and a pair of binoculars in both their laps as they sat in a black, unmarked car in the middle of nowhere at midnight.
Oh, yeah, stake out for something or another, right, duh.
It took him a moment to remember that Lassie had talked before he shifted and looked out the window to his right, keeping his eyes away from him and on the building they were supposed to be watching. He couldn’t even remember why he was here, anymore, because he wasn’t a cop and stakeouts only happened when he was supposed to be up and on a case.
He supposed he was just bored at the time and wanted to spend time with his boyfriend.
“Yeah,” his voice sounded haunted, even to himself. “I’m fine.”
“Nightmare?” Lassie offered and Shawn vaguely wondered if he was trying to make conversation because he was seriously worried about his tone of voice, or if he was just bored of the silence that had, no doubt, been there for several hours.
“Memory,” he murmured, quietly.
“Want to talk about it?”
Definitely bored with the silence-well, probably… well, they are together now (even if no one knew) so maybe he was worried about him? He doubted it.
“No.” He’d said it so sternly with such a wavering voice that even he could have been persuaded… you know, if he weren’t himself. He tried to tell himself that there weren’t any tears in his eyes, practically waiting for him to release them and they were almost there, anyway. “Go ahead and go to sleep. I don’t feel like going there anytime soon.”
“I don’t think so,” Lassie replied and suddenly, there was a pressure on his shoulder that he leaned into, despite the fact that he was so adamant at not looking at him. “You want sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Did I stutter?” He felt like an asshole the moment “did” slipped past his tongue.
“Shawn,” his voice was gentle, which was what had pulled his attention enough to make him look at him in the face-because there was no way he’d be able to meet his eye with so many tears. The pressure on his shoulder disappeared, reappearing across the back of his neck and on the other one in a lopsided hug. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” he muttered, quietly, but it sounded like a lie-even to him, and he was used to lying.
The hand started to massage his shoulder for a second before a pair of lips pressed into his forehead and he shut his eyes, smiling gently as he took in a deep, shaky breath. He reached up with one hand and clutched Lassie’s for a second before entwining their fingers together.
He wondered, silently, what he’d done to deserve someone like Carlton, even if he knew he’d never admit that he didn’t believe that he was worthy for him since he had to lie to him so often.
“Thanks, Lassie,” he muttered quietly, and opened his eyes, smiling up at the man who was staring at him, worried, and rubbing the back of his hand with the pad of his thumb. “I needed that.”
His lips reappeared and he smiled again, leaning into the feel of the abnormally soft lips.
“Go ahead and lie back. I can’t sleep on the job, anyway,” Lassie muttered and watched as Shawn nodded and pulled the lever on the side of the chair, leaning back and pulling the blanket up to his armpits so that his arms rested over it peacefully.
He lasted for all of three minutes before he finally pressed the back of his thumbs to his forehead and muttered, “I just can’t do it anymore, Carlton.”
He knew for a fact that using his first name got Lassie’s attention immediately, since even he used it rarely-and it may have been playing dirty, but he didn’t care. The guy was good with convincing him to do something he really didn’t want to, even if he didn’t admit it… ever.
“Can’t do what anymore, Shawn?”
“I can’t… just… if I tell you… If I do… you won’t,” he knew the tears were rushing down his face by now… but as Lassie reached over and brushed them from his face, not the least bit judging, he didn’t care as much as he normally would have. “You can’t think of me any different… promise me?”
“I promise.”
He sniffed and continued, “And you can’t tell anyone-not even Gus.”
“You didn’t tell Gus this? Why?”
Shawn shrugged. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told him… he wasn’t sure why, but he was sure it had to do with the tack-because when the real things hit, he was a wuss, whether he cared to admit it or not. “You promise though… right? You won’t go back on your word?”
“Of course not.”
He sniffed again. “Th-Thanks.”
“Always.”
There was a pause, and the tears hit Shawn so hard he was fighting himself not to sob as he hiccupped his story, starting with “at first, I didn’t even know what it was” to ending it with “And for some stupid reason, I feel guilty for it and I know I shouldn’t.” Actually, no, to be honest, he ended with the sobbing.
Carlton leaned down and kissed his forehead, brushing whatever hair had fallen out of its hold out of his forehead and muttering “you know this just makes me want to kill the guy though, right?”
It was such a Shawn-is-my-boyfriend-stay-away and Carlton Lassiter thing to say that despite himself, he started to laugh and touched one hand to his, leaving his eyes shut for as long as he could before he began to become afraid of falling asleep, and back into that memory.
So he opened his eyes again and noticed that Lassie was smiling at him, gently.
“What’re you smiling for?”
“I’m smiling because I love your laugh,” he pointed out. “And I’m glad that you could pull it off at a time like this. But, I also hope you realize that the moment we get back to the Police Department, I’m going to track this guy down and find a way to make a legal arrest.”
Shawn nodded and watched Lassie fix himself in a more comfortable position before reaching out and taking his hand again.
“You’re going to go back to sleep?” Lassiter was still giving him that gentle smile he only got to see at night, when they were alone and no one could possibly find them there.
“I’m too tired not to,” he yawned, involuntarily, almost as if to just prove his point. “Wake me up at the first inklings of a bad dream. Not just a nightmare, but a bad dream. Please?”
“Of course.”
“And don’t leave me.”
“I don’t plan on it. I love you Shawn, and you know that.”
“I love you, too, Carlton.”
***
A/n pt2 - OMG! SHAWN! *is currently clutching her Shawn & her pineapple plushie to her chest.* NUUH! Go Lassifrace, coming to the rescue! I feel horrible for doing this to Shawn. I LOVE YOU, SHAWN, YOU KNOW I DON’T MEAN IT!!!