FIC: Quarter Life Crisis (21/24) - Carlton/Shawn - PG-13 - Psych
Title: Quarter Life Crisis (21/24)
author: PookaSeraph
pairing: Carlton/Shawn
rating: PG-13
disclaimer: Not mine, Never will be
summary: Shawn and Carlton plan a move for the next part of their life together
Previous Parts:
[One] | [Two] | [Three] | [Four] | [Five] | [Six]
[Seven] | [Eight] | [Nine] | [Ten] | [Eleven] | [Twelve]
[Thirteen] | [Fourteen] | [Fifteen] | [Sixteen] | [Seventeen] | [Eighteen]
[Nineteen] | [Twenty]
Current Part:
Chapter 21:
Carlton pulled out his keys and entered the apartment to find Shawn slouched on the couch watching the evening news.
"It was the girlfriend's ex-boyfriend," Shawn shouted from the couch.
Carlton shook his head pulling off tie and jacket and leaving his briefcase on the breakfast bar.
"I hope you don't think the Chief is going to pay you for that insight."
"Oh come on! Is 'my boyfriend told me so' not a good enough psychic tip off now?" Shawn popped his head up from the couch to see Carlton, who was pretty sure his frustrating day was written all over his face. Shawn beckoned him over, sat him down and began to attack his back with the incredible precision of an occasionally-professional masseur. "Bad day?"
"What gave it away?"
"You visited the gun range." Although Shawn occasionally joked that Gus was the one with the 'super smeller', Shawn certainly had the nose for gunshot residue. But Shawn was right, he had visited the gun range, and that had become a slightly rarer occurrence since Shawn. He'd certainly reopened Carlton's eyes to many more enjoyable ways to blow off a little steam. "That, and your birthday is nearly upon you."
"You're not planning some huge surprise party with felons are you?" Carlton wasn't sure he could handle another birthday like last year. Between losing the house and his mother's mysterious discovery of his separated status Carlton had more than enough stress for what was supposed to have been a relaxing day of scotch and old movies.
"If you must know, I was going to cook beef stew and rent some action movie where everything blows up, unless you want to request something else."
"No, that sounds perfect." Carlton had to admit, Shawn certainly seemed like a mind reader somedays. Unfortunately, he wasn't actually, and having serious discussions with him was still a trial even after almost ninth months. Being a mind reader would have made things much easier. "Can we talk about something?"
Carlton turned around to see Shawn with the face that Carlton occasionally considered his 'terrified animal' face. The one that he wore whenever he was about to run out the door in order to delay a difficult conversation. Carlton liked to think that it showed some sort of character growth that Shawn just clenched his fists slightly and nodded.
"It's nothing bad." Carlton felt he needed the preface. "At least I don't think it is --" Shawn relaxed a little, seeming more at ease, trusting Carlton enough to take him at his word. "Well, I mean--" Carlton stopped, slightly embarrassed.
"Not instilling me with a lot of confidence, Carlton."
"Sorry, sorry. Sam and I used to have a lot of fights about money so I don't like to talk about it."
"Oh, ok. Dude, why didn't you just say so? Shoot!" Shawn's casual brushing aside of the issue giving Carlton a little more confidence. He dove in.
"I was just wondering how much you pay in rent." Carlton felt incredibly nosy for asking, but it was an important part of his calculations. And he knew Shawn, he was the type to randomly lock in some low rate because of some time he helped the landlord or something, Shawn always seemed to know someone.
"Two thousand something, I don't really keep track."
"How do you eat?!" Carlton had promised himself this wouldn't devolve into a fight and he found him breaking that promise to himself. "Don't think I don't know how much money you make on cases. I know you don't work any other jobs. And the beach front storefront must be pretty expensive, too." The 'Psych' office was prime real estate.
"I thought you trusted me about not smuggling opium," Shawn complained, sounding quite surly. Carlton had to admit the cop in him hated the answer. He trusted Shawn, he really did. But his refusal to answer a simple questions raised every alarm bell that was every trained into him.
Hell, it's what got Shawn into trouble over a year ago when Carlton first tried to pin the stereo robberies on him. Standoffish, condescending and evasive behavior raised red flags.
"I do trust you. I also have a right to comment on the fact that your lifestyle seems to outpace your means and wonder how you afford it."
"It's just ... *things*" Carlton had to remind himself not to get mad. He also reminded himself if Shawn actually did confess to something criminal Carlton wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do about it. "Residuals mostly. I manage a Hip Hop band from Thailand, shoe ads, royalties off the sale of Breebree tribal hats, those Listerine things you put on your tongue. Nothing illegal."
"The breath strips?" Carlton was trying to decide if this was more or less believable than solving crime while watching the local news.
"Dude, it was an awesome idea! I just -- have ideas sometimes, I live a charmed life." Shawn seemed nervous and embarrassed, not a look he was used to seeing on Shawn. "Alright, if you are newly convinced of the fact I'm not smuggling drugs, what was the point of the questioning?"
Carlton tried to wrap his brain around this new information about Shawn. His brain finally returned to his original train of thought
"The lease on the apartment I started renting after O'Hara's birthday party debacle is going to be ending soon and I just thought maybe we could get a place together."
Shawn looked slightly ill. "Carlton, I -- Wow. Are you sure?"
"Of course." Carlton had been thinking about it ever since he'd realized he was going to have to come out to be honest to himself and to Shawn. "It would mean a lot to me."
Shawn was speechless for a few moments. He then pounced, pinning Carlton to the sofa and leaned down for a crushing kiss. Carlton scrambled to get more comfortable, accepting the overture for what it was, assent. Shawn had four buttons on he shirt undone and was slowly licking his way down he chest when Carlton was able to tear himself away.
"The divorce finally solidified the property settlement on Sam and my old house, I could probably afford to buy instead of just renting." Shawn immediately stopped his assault on Carlton's chest and he tried not to be too disappointed.
"Buying?"
"I know first time home buying is daunting. I'm not an expert myself. I just thought --" Carlton trailed off. Shawn was jittery again, and not from the recently aborted making out. "If you don't want to that's alright, Shawn."
Carlton felt like an idiot. There was obviously something about the prospect of home ownership that truly terrified Shawn. Or maybe just that level of relationship commitment.
"I don't own things."
"You own a bike."
"Technically, it's Annette's."
"The big screen tv?"
"Furniture rental."
"The digital recorder thing."
"Rented from the cable company."
Carlton sighed. He remembered Gus's words months ago about how Shawn put a lot of effort into being able to drop everything and leave at a moment's notice. Shawn hadn't run away since then, but Carlton realized he might be pressing too much too soon. He wanted the world with Shawn, but he'd probably have to settle for a small island to start.
"Oh ... How about a little two bedroom apartment somewhere near the beach?"
"That sounds really nice."
"My lease is up in six weeks."
"Oh, dude, I almost forgot! I also invented George Foreman Grills."
"George Foreman Grills?"
"Yeah, you didn't think he actually invented it did you?"
Carlton didn't have enough time to question the last outrageous claim because Shawn chose that moment to drag him off to the bedroom effectively ending any productive discussion for the rest of the evening.
author: PookaSeraph
pairing: Carlton/Shawn
rating: PG-13
disclaimer: Not mine, Never will be
summary: Shawn and Carlton plan a move for the next part of their life together
Previous Parts:
[One] | [Two] | [Three] | [Four] | [Five] | [Six]
[Seven] | [Eight] | [Nine] | [Ten] | [Eleven] | [Twelve]
[Thirteen] | [Fourteen] | [Fifteen] | [Sixteen] | [Seventeen] | [Eighteen]
[Nineteen] | [Twenty]
Current Part:
Chapter 21:
Carlton pulled out his keys and entered the apartment to find Shawn slouched on the couch watching the evening news.
"It was the girlfriend's ex-boyfriend," Shawn shouted from the couch.
Carlton shook his head pulling off tie and jacket and leaving his briefcase on the breakfast bar.
"I hope you don't think the Chief is going to pay you for that insight."
"Oh come on! Is 'my boyfriend told me so' not a good enough psychic tip off now?" Shawn popped his head up from the couch to see Carlton, who was pretty sure his frustrating day was written all over his face. Shawn beckoned him over, sat him down and began to attack his back with the incredible precision of an occasionally-professional masseur. "Bad day?"
"What gave it away?"
"You visited the gun range." Although Shawn occasionally joked that Gus was the one with the 'super smeller', Shawn certainly had the nose for gunshot residue. But Shawn was right, he had visited the gun range, and that had become a slightly rarer occurrence since Shawn. He'd certainly reopened Carlton's eyes to many more enjoyable ways to blow off a little steam. "That, and your birthday is nearly upon you."
"You're not planning some huge surprise party with felons are you?" Carlton wasn't sure he could handle another birthday like last year. Between losing the house and his mother's mysterious discovery of his separated status Carlton had more than enough stress for what was supposed to have been a relaxing day of scotch and old movies.
"If you must know, I was going to cook beef stew and rent some action movie where everything blows up, unless you want to request something else."
"No, that sounds perfect." Carlton had to admit, Shawn certainly seemed like a mind reader somedays. Unfortunately, he wasn't actually, and having serious discussions with him was still a trial even after almost ninth months. Being a mind reader would have made things much easier. "Can we talk about something?"
Carlton turned around to see Shawn with the face that Carlton occasionally considered his 'terrified animal' face. The one that he wore whenever he was about to run out the door in order to delay a difficult conversation. Carlton liked to think that it showed some sort of character growth that Shawn just clenched his fists slightly and nodded.
"It's nothing bad." Carlton felt he needed the preface. "At least I don't think it is --" Shawn relaxed a little, seeming more at ease, trusting Carlton enough to take him at his word. "Well, I mean--" Carlton stopped, slightly embarrassed.
"Not instilling me with a lot of confidence, Carlton."
"Sorry, sorry. Sam and I used to have a lot of fights about money so I don't like to talk about it."
"Oh, ok. Dude, why didn't you just say so? Shoot!" Shawn's casual brushing aside of the issue giving Carlton a little more confidence. He dove in.
"I was just wondering how much you pay in rent." Carlton felt incredibly nosy for asking, but it was an important part of his calculations. And he knew Shawn, he was the type to randomly lock in some low rate because of some time he helped the landlord or something, Shawn always seemed to know someone.
"Two thousand something, I don't really keep track."
"How do you eat?!" Carlton had promised himself this wouldn't devolve into a fight and he found him breaking that promise to himself. "Don't think I don't know how much money you make on cases. I know you don't work any other jobs. And the beach front storefront must be pretty expensive, too." The 'Psych' office was prime real estate.
"I thought you trusted me about not smuggling opium," Shawn complained, sounding quite surly. Carlton had to admit the cop in him hated the answer. He trusted Shawn, he really did. But his refusal to answer a simple questions raised every alarm bell that was every trained into him.
Hell, it's what got Shawn into trouble over a year ago when Carlton first tried to pin the stereo robberies on him. Standoffish, condescending and evasive behavior raised red flags.
"I do trust you. I also have a right to comment on the fact that your lifestyle seems to outpace your means and wonder how you afford it."
"It's just ... *things*" Carlton had to remind himself not to get mad. He also reminded himself if Shawn actually did confess to something criminal Carlton wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do about it. "Residuals mostly. I manage a Hip Hop band from Thailand, shoe ads, royalties off the sale of Breebree tribal hats, those Listerine things you put on your tongue. Nothing illegal."
"The breath strips?" Carlton was trying to decide if this was more or less believable than solving crime while watching the local news.
"Dude, it was an awesome idea! I just -- have ideas sometimes, I live a charmed life." Shawn seemed nervous and embarrassed, not a look he was used to seeing on Shawn. "Alright, if you are newly convinced of the fact I'm not smuggling drugs, what was the point of the questioning?"
Carlton tried to wrap his brain around this new information about Shawn. His brain finally returned to his original train of thought
"The lease on the apartment I started renting after O'Hara's birthday party debacle is going to be ending soon and I just thought maybe we could get a place together."
Shawn looked slightly ill. "Carlton, I -- Wow. Are you sure?"
"Of course." Carlton had been thinking about it ever since he'd realized he was going to have to come out to be honest to himself and to Shawn. "It would mean a lot to me."
Shawn was speechless for a few moments. He then pounced, pinning Carlton to the sofa and leaned down for a crushing kiss. Carlton scrambled to get more comfortable, accepting the overture for what it was, assent. Shawn had four buttons on he shirt undone and was slowly licking his way down he chest when Carlton was able to tear himself away.
"The divorce finally solidified the property settlement on Sam and my old house, I could probably afford to buy instead of just renting." Shawn immediately stopped his assault on Carlton's chest and he tried not to be too disappointed.
"Buying?"
"I know first time home buying is daunting. I'm not an expert myself. I just thought --" Carlton trailed off. Shawn was jittery again, and not from the recently aborted making out. "If you don't want to that's alright, Shawn."
Carlton felt like an idiot. There was obviously something about the prospect of home ownership that truly terrified Shawn. Or maybe just that level of relationship commitment.
"I don't own things."
"You own a bike."
"Technically, it's Annette's."
"The big screen tv?"
"Furniture rental."
"The digital recorder thing."
"Rented from the cable company."
Carlton sighed. He remembered Gus's words months ago about how Shawn put a lot of effort into being able to drop everything and leave at a moment's notice. Shawn hadn't run away since then, but Carlton realized he might be pressing too much too soon. He wanted the world with Shawn, but he'd probably have to settle for a small island to start.
"Oh ... How about a little two bedroom apartment somewhere near the beach?"
"That sounds really nice."
"My lease is up in six weeks."
"Oh, dude, I almost forgot! I also invented George Foreman Grills."
"George Foreman Grills?"
"Yeah, you didn't think he actually invented it did you?"
Carlton didn't have enough time to question the last outrageous claim because Shawn chose that moment to drag him off to the bedroom effectively ending any productive discussion for the rest of the evening.