The World Will Follow After (1/1)
I've been into the show since the beginning, oddly enough because I saw Don S. Davis (played General Hammond in SG-1, rest in peace) while channel surfing. But I've been putting off the inevitable: writing a Psych fic...that somehow hints at slash. Really, I couldn't help it.
And I only say it's inevitable because I find so much commonality with Shawn's character. My favourite characters are usually ones I can relate to, but with Shawn it's scary. Add Gus, and its like I've been split in half. So, I'll just call this venture a case of lazy writing.
Anyway, this isn't anything special, just testing the waters for what I hope to be my last attempt at Psych fic. I like Shawn/Lassiter, Shawn's friendship with Gus even more, and dialogue only fics aren't that bad. I think. Though, I intentionally made fun of how many times Gus says Shawn's name each episode.
***
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG-13
Words: 812
Summary: In which Shawn tries to make a confession, Gus is a little slow on the uptake but eventually sees the problem, and Lassiter may or may not be none the wiser.
***
“Man-brows, Shawn?”
“Not just any set of man-brows, Gus. We’re talking about Irish man-brows here, which are twice as sexy as regular man-brows and even more magically delicious.”
“You’re crazy.”
“As crazy as he is for me. The close proximity, all the touching and grabbing…the smouldering whispers and menacing growls. Gus, think about it. No really, it makes sense. What else could it be?”
“Physical proof he doesn’t like you.”
“The concept of love that may or may not be unrequited does strange things to people.”
“Tell that to Lassiter next time he threatens to throw you in jail.”
“Are you kidding? Lassie doesn’t want to get rid of me. I’m the yellow sunshine in his cloudy yet conspicuously crime filled days and not unlike a golden pineapple among blue skies and above clear, sandy white beaches.”
“Get away from me, Shawn.”
“Gus, where are you-”
“I’m leaving.”
“Just hear me out, all right.”
“Don’t touch me, Shawn.”
“Okay, no touching, but what if I told you I’d let you have the rest of the ice cream in the freezer?”
“The strawberry mango chocolate swirl ice cream my mom made for me?”
“Which is really, really good actually, better than what I expected and way better than the coconut double fudge mocha she made for you last month.”
“I didn’t even get a chance to eat that, Shawn.”
“But of course, being the generous best friend that I am, I saved the best part for you, buddy.”
“The bottom of the container with the fruit chunks?”
“Big chunks, Gus. Like little big comets of awesome goodness leaving a trail of delectable fruity flavour in your mouth.”
“…go ahead. I’m listening.”
“Does the name Rick O’Shea ring a bell?”
“The kid who always sat in the back of the class writing love notes to Samantha Taylor?”
“Who coincidentally also happens to be Irish but with a very unfortunate name by the way.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Remember when he used to pull on Samantha’s pigtails in the fifth grade? Dude, he was obviously crushing on her.”
“And did you forget that she ended up putting a restraining order on him five years ago because he was stalking her?”
“Oh, don’t do the disapproving thing on me, Gus. Lassie and I aren’t like that. Sure, when he looks at me sometimes it’s hard to tell whether he wants to maim me or throw me across his desk and do all kinds of kinky - and hopefully not cop related - things caused by more than a year of sexual repression.”
“Shawn-”
“It’s like the pigtails, Gus. Except the analogy doesn’t really fit, and Lassiter didn’t take out a restraining order on me.”
“Not yet.”
“Really, Mr. Take-all-the-life-from-the-party Bumpants? You’re going to deny the unresolved tension between me and Lassiter. If that’s what foreplay’s like, can you imagine the sex?”
“Goodbye, Shawn.”
“Come on, Gus, you can’t leave in the middle of an important revelation. It doesn’t work like that, and I’m just getting to the good part.”
“Actually I can. And unlike some of us, I have a real job to go to.”
“But don’t you want to hear about the way his heart flutters just a little bit faster when he sees me?”
“No, I don’t, and if you-”
“AndmaybethewaymyheartfluttersjustalittlebitfasterwhenIseehimtoo.”
“…say again.”
“About the way Lassiter’s heart flutters uncontrollably in my presence?”
“No, the other part.”
“The way my heart flutters around him, too?”
“The way…”
“Yes.”
“...you’re serious.”
“As serious as the text I just sent. Adorned with spiffy emoticons and figurative hugs and kisses that artistically express my feelings despite the lack of red and pink hearts surrounding my name intertwined with Lasstier’s.”
“You did not just send a text message to Lassiter, Shawn.”
“Wait, I think I’m picking up something. I can see Lassiter, almost hear his voice. The words are coming more clearly now. Yes, the vibrations are getting stronger, louder-”
“That’s your phone, Shawn.”
“How psychically fortuitous of you, Gus.”
“What’s it say? Is it from Lassiter?”
“Why yes it is. See, look, I told you he likes me.”
“How does telling you to go to hell translate to Lassiter liking you?”
“Because Gus, you silly goose, Lassiter called me Shawn.”
“So.”
“So? That means he wants us to be on a first name basis. Do you think I should start calling him Carlton, now?”
“Don’t leave yet, Gus. I promise it won’t be like little boy cat. You and Carlton can take turns sitting in the backseat.”
“Fine, go. I’ll just eat the rest of - Dude, you can’t just walk out of here with the ice cream. It’s over ninety degrees outside, and all of the chocolately fruity goodness is going to melt in your car.”
“No, don’t leave with my...I’m going to follow you if you take my smoothie, Gus.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Gus…”
And I only say it's inevitable because I find so much commonality with Shawn's character. My favourite characters are usually ones I can relate to, but with Shawn it's scary. Add Gus, and its like I've been split in half. So, I'll just call this venture a case of lazy writing.
Anyway, this isn't anything special, just testing the waters for what I hope to be my last attempt at Psych fic. I like Shawn/Lassiter, Shawn's friendship with Gus even more, and dialogue only fics aren't that bad. I think. Though, I intentionally made fun of how many times Gus says Shawn's name each episode.
***
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG-13
Words: 812
Summary: In which Shawn tries to make a confession, Gus is a little slow on the uptake but eventually sees the problem, and Lassiter may or may not be none the wiser.
***
“Man-brows, Shawn?”
“Not just any set of man-brows, Gus. We’re talking about Irish man-brows here, which are twice as sexy as regular man-brows and even more magically delicious.”
“You’re crazy.”
“As crazy as he is for me. The close proximity, all the touching and grabbing…the smouldering whispers and menacing growls. Gus, think about it. No really, it makes sense. What else could it be?”
“Physical proof he doesn’t like you.”
“The concept of love that may or may not be unrequited does strange things to people.”
“Tell that to Lassiter next time he threatens to throw you in jail.”
“Are you kidding? Lassie doesn’t want to get rid of me. I’m the yellow sunshine in his cloudy yet conspicuously crime filled days and not unlike a golden pineapple among blue skies and above clear, sandy white beaches.”
“Get away from me, Shawn.”
“Gus, where are you-”
“I’m leaving.”
“Just hear me out, all right.”
“Don’t touch me, Shawn.”
“Okay, no touching, but what if I told you I’d let you have the rest of the ice cream in the freezer?”
“The strawberry mango chocolate swirl ice cream my mom made for me?”
“Which is really, really good actually, better than what I expected and way better than the coconut double fudge mocha she made for you last month.”
“I didn’t even get a chance to eat that, Shawn.”
“But of course, being the generous best friend that I am, I saved the best part for you, buddy.”
“The bottom of the container with the fruit chunks?”
“Big chunks, Gus. Like little big comets of awesome goodness leaving a trail of delectable fruity flavour in your mouth.”
“…go ahead. I’m listening.”
“Does the name Rick O’Shea ring a bell?”
“The kid who always sat in the back of the class writing love notes to Samantha Taylor?”
“Who coincidentally also happens to be Irish but with a very unfortunate name by the way.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Remember when he used to pull on Samantha’s pigtails in the fifth grade? Dude, he was obviously crushing on her.”
“And did you forget that she ended up putting a restraining order on him five years ago because he was stalking her?”
“Oh, don’t do the disapproving thing on me, Gus. Lassie and I aren’t like that. Sure, when he looks at me sometimes it’s hard to tell whether he wants to maim me or throw me across his desk and do all kinds of kinky - and hopefully not cop related - things caused by more than a year of sexual repression.”
“Shawn-”
“It’s like the pigtails, Gus. Except the analogy doesn’t really fit, and Lassiter didn’t take out a restraining order on me.”
“Not yet.”
“Really, Mr. Take-all-the-life-from-the-party Bumpants? You’re going to deny the unresolved tension between me and Lassiter. If that’s what foreplay’s like, can you imagine the sex?”
“Goodbye, Shawn.”
“Come on, Gus, you can’t leave in the middle of an important revelation. It doesn’t work like that, and I’m just getting to the good part.”
“Actually I can. And unlike some of us, I have a real job to go to.”
“But don’t you want to hear about the way his heart flutters just a little bit faster when he sees me?”
“No, I don’t, and if you-”
“AndmaybethewaymyheartfluttersjustalittlebitfasterwhenIseehimtoo.”
“…say again.”
“About the way Lassiter’s heart flutters uncontrollably in my presence?”
“No, the other part.”
“The way my heart flutters around him, too?”
“The way…”
“Yes.”
“...you’re serious.”
“As serious as the text I just sent. Adorned with spiffy emoticons and figurative hugs and kisses that artistically express my feelings despite the lack of red and pink hearts surrounding my name intertwined with Lasstier’s.”
“You did not just send a text message to Lassiter, Shawn.”
“Wait, I think I’m picking up something. I can see Lassiter, almost hear his voice. The words are coming more clearly now. Yes, the vibrations are getting stronger, louder-”
“That’s your phone, Shawn.”
“How psychically fortuitous of you, Gus.”
“What’s it say? Is it from Lassiter?”
“Why yes it is. See, look, I told you he likes me.”
“How does telling you to go to hell translate to Lassiter liking you?”
“Because Gus, you silly goose, Lassiter called me Shawn.”
“So.”
“So? That means he wants us to be on a first name basis. Do you think I should start calling him Carlton, now?”
“Don’t leave yet, Gus. I promise it won’t be like little boy cat. You and Carlton can take turns sitting in the backseat.”
“Fine, go. I’ll just eat the rest of - Dude, you can’t just walk out of here with the ice cream. It’s over ninety degrees outside, and all of the chocolately fruity goodness is going to melt in your car.”
“No, don’t leave with my...I’m going to follow you if you take my smoothie, Gus.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Gus…”