Gus & The Multiple Personality Disorder Chapter 8
Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.
A/N: Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from Dissociative identity disorder or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges in living out some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens.
A/N: I don’t really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus’ condition may not be scientific at all.
A/N: I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language.
Chapter 8
“We’ll have to discuss the rest of your story tomorrow, Mr. Spencer.” Dr Moore said a little regretfully, “Its time for my next appointment.”
“Oh.” said Shawn, somewhat relieved that he would not have to suffer more of the doctor’s soul-probing right now. “Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow at 3 pm sharp.”
As he got up, Dr Moore said, “Don’t do anything …hasty in dealing with your friend.”
Shawn sat on a singularly uncomfortable chair in a busy little coffee shop. He was alone at the blue-and-white checks covered table, waiting for his breakfast. Shawn had not slept much in the previous night. In fact, he had not slept much after the incident in the Psych office two days ago....but Shawn would not let himself think about that, or everything would have to be relived, in vivid details.
Shawn gave himself a small shake.
"The service here is crap." he muttered, not too quietly. A passing waiter gave him a dirty look.
Shawn closed his eyes, and began to play Henry's favorite game with himself. Four hats in the room, he mentally recounted, two young men with red caps, a tan hat on an old guy enjoying a huge breakfast of egg Benedict, sausages, waffles and coffee, and a homemade Jughead beanie on a curly haired teen.
A waitress put Shawn's order in front of him. A burrito, and a pineapple smoothie. As Shawn reached to pick up the smoothie, the waitress' honeyed smile and glinting eyes put him on his guard.
She spit in it, thought Shawn, that waiter must have ratted.
He gave the waitress an equally honeyed smile, and put the smoothie back down. The girl huffed and stomped away.
When Shawn had finished his breakfast, (he left the smoothie untouched; it broke his heart to waste a pineapple smoothie, but he was not going to drink some psycho dame's spit!) he rode to the Psych office. He froze in the doorway as soon as he entered. Gus was at his desk, calmly going through the accounts, sipping from a Starbucks cup time to time. He looked up to see Shawn, and smiled.
"Hey Shawn."
"He-ey, Gus." Shawn replied. He looked at his best friend closely. Gus looked relaxed and serene, very unlike the last time he had seen him. "You are here bright and early."
"Yeah, got some good sleep the last few nights." Gus told him. "I know I have been a little cranky lately. Sorry about that."
"Cranky? Uh...yeah. Its cool." said Shawn. He walked to his desk, and started to fiddle with the collection of random things on it. His hands shook slightly. He was very aware that this was the first time he had come in close proximity of Gus after what happened.
"So, any new cases?" Gus asked. Shawn jumped.
"No, unless you count the vanishing pangolin mystery the Chief called me about yesterday. Solved it over the phone." He was lying of course. Shawn had not been answering his phone. His mind had been in a state of utter chaos.
Gus gave him a look that said Yeah right! and went back to the accounts.
Shawn sat down on his chair and booted his computer. Now he did not know how to act around Gus. It would have been better if they had a case to keep them busy. He peered at Gus over the edge of the monitor. Gus was wearing a blue button down and grey slacks, his clothes were as crisp as usual, not a crease in sight. His face looked the same as ever too, the big brown eyes in the cinnamon skinned face, the pouty lips. Somehow, subconsciously Shawn had expected him to be different. Somehow it seemed to him that Gus should look different, because surely Gus could not do those things to Shawn, and still look like the same Gus of old! The way Shawn had looked at Gus for twenty-five years had changed. Hell, he felt he had changed! Was he the same Shawn Spencer as he was before?
Gus' finger was tapping on the desk surface as he concentrated. The very fingers that had touched Shawn's skin, Shawn's cock...
Shawn wondered what would happen if Gus had a sudden attack of his illness right now. What would he do? Would he look at Shawn with that strange fiery look again? Would he grab Shawn and push him onto the desk?
Shawn's brain was working overtime, conjuring up image after image.
Gus pushes him onto the desk surface hard (it hurts just a little, not much). He leans down, letting his breath caress Shawn's neck. One hand is holding his wrists above his head in a tight grip. The other hand slides over Shawn’s torso, brushing against his nipples, letting the thumb count the ribs. Now Gus' breath is on his lips, tantalizing, making him wonder if he is going to kiss him or not. Gus' hand grabs Shawn's crotch in a slightly painful way, making him simultaneously gasp and buck up against the hand. A wet tongue slips into his mouth--
"Shawn?"
"Aa-h... huh?" Shawn was startled out of his impromptu fantasy. He realized that his right hand was on his denim covered cock, which was straining against the material. Gus was staring at him from across the room.
"Why are your eyes glazed?" Gus asked a little suspiciously, "You are not jerking off to porn in the office, are you?"
"N-no, of course not!" Shawn denied, and planted his eyes firmly on the computer screen. His face was flushed and hot.
He could not believe he came so close to jerking off to fantasies of being ravished by his best friend in the office, with said best friend sitting right there. Damn!
___X___
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.
A/N: Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from Dissociative identity disorder or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges in living out some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens.
A/N: I don’t really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus’ condition may not be scientific at all.
A/N: I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language.
Chapter 8
“We’ll have to discuss the rest of your story tomorrow, Mr. Spencer.” Dr Moore said a little regretfully, “Its time for my next appointment.”
“Oh.” said Shawn, somewhat relieved that he would not have to suffer more of the doctor’s soul-probing right now. “Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow at 3 pm sharp.”
As he got up, Dr Moore said, “Don’t do anything …hasty in dealing with your friend.”
Shawn sat on a singularly uncomfortable chair in a busy little coffee shop. He was alone at the blue-and-white checks covered table, waiting for his breakfast. Shawn had not slept much in the previous night. In fact, he had not slept much after the incident in the Psych office two days ago....but Shawn would not let himself think about that, or everything would have to be relived, in vivid details.
Shawn gave himself a small shake.
"The service here is crap." he muttered, not too quietly. A passing waiter gave him a dirty look.
Shawn closed his eyes, and began to play Henry's favorite game with himself. Four hats in the room, he mentally recounted, two young men with red caps, a tan hat on an old guy enjoying a huge breakfast of egg Benedict, sausages, waffles and coffee, and a homemade Jughead beanie on a curly haired teen.
A waitress put Shawn's order in front of him. A burrito, and a pineapple smoothie. As Shawn reached to pick up the smoothie, the waitress' honeyed smile and glinting eyes put him on his guard.
She spit in it, thought Shawn, that waiter must have ratted.
He gave the waitress an equally honeyed smile, and put the smoothie back down. The girl huffed and stomped away.
When Shawn had finished his breakfast, (he left the smoothie untouched; it broke his heart to waste a pineapple smoothie, but he was not going to drink some psycho dame's spit!) he rode to the Psych office. He froze in the doorway as soon as he entered. Gus was at his desk, calmly going through the accounts, sipping from a Starbucks cup time to time. He looked up to see Shawn, and smiled.
"Hey Shawn."
"He-ey, Gus." Shawn replied. He looked at his best friend closely. Gus looked relaxed and serene, very unlike the last time he had seen him. "You are here bright and early."
"Yeah, got some good sleep the last few nights." Gus told him. "I know I have been a little cranky lately. Sorry about that."
"Cranky? Uh...yeah. Its cool." said Shawn. He walked to his desk, and started to fiddle with the collection of random things on it. His hands shook slightly. He was very aware that this was the first time he had come in close proximity of Gus after what happened.
"So, any new cases?" Gus asked. Shawn jumped.
"No, unless you count the vanishing pangolin mystery the Chief called me about yesterday. Solved it over the phone." He was lying of course. Shawn had not been answering his phone. His mind had been in a state of utter chaos.
Gus gave him a look that said Yeah right! and went back to the accounts.
Shawn sat down on his chair and booted his computer. Now he did not know how to act around Gus. It would have been better if they had a case to keep them busy. He peered at Gus over the edge of the monitor. Gus was wearing a blue button down and grey slacks, his clothes were as crisp as usual, not a crease in sight. His face looked the same as ever too, the big brown eyes in the cinnamon skinned face, the pouty lips. Somehow, subconsciously Shawn had expected him to be different. Somehow it seemed to him that Gus should look different, because surely Gus could not do those things to Shawn, and still look like the same Gus of old! The way Shawn had looked at Gus for twenty-five years had changed. Hell, he felt he had changed! Was he the same Shawn Spencer as he was before?
Gus' finger was tapping on the desk surface as he concentrated. The very fingers that had touched Shawn's skin, Shawn's cock...
Shawn wondered what would happen if Gus had a sudden attack of his illness right now. What would he do? Would he look at Shawn with that strange fiery look again? Would he grab Shawn and push him onto the desk?
Shawn's brain was working overtime, conjuring up image after image.
Gus pushes him onto the desk surface hard (it hurts just a little, not much). He leans down, letting his breath caress Shawn's neck. One hand is holding his wrists above his head in a tight grip. The other hand slides over Shawn’s torso, brushing against his nipples, letting the thumb count the ribs. Now Gus' breath is on his lips, tantalizing, making him wonder if he is going to kiss him or not. Gus' hand grabs Shawn's crotch in a slightly painful way, making him simultaneously gasp and buck up against the hand. A wet tongue slips into his mouth--
"Shawn?"
"Aa-h... huh?" Shawn was startled out of his impromptu fantasy. He realized that his right hand was on his denim covered cock, which was straining against the material. Gus was staring at him from across the room.
"Why are your eyes glazed?" Gus asked a little suspiciously, "You are not jerking off to porn in the office, are you?"
"N-no, of course not!" Shawn denied, and planted his eyes firmly on the computer screen. His face was flushed and hot.
He could not believe he came so close to jerking off to fantasies of being ravished by his best friend in the office, with said best friend sitting right there. Damn!
___X___