Psych: Better Than Being a Barnacle (Gus/Shawn, PG-13, ~230w.)
Gus/Shawn, PG-13, ~230w.
"And here comes the sweet post-sex Gus limpet action," Shawn said, voice pitched like a commentator.
Better than Being a Barnacle
"Shawn," Gus exhaled from the back of his throat, hips jerking. His orgasm left him feeling warm and lead-limbed, grinning with his eyes half-closed. He laid splayed like a starfish across the bed for a few moments, chest rising and falling.
Yawning, he turned so they were face to face, and snaked his limbs through Shawn's.
"And here comes the sweet post-sex Gus limpet action," Shawn said, voice pitched like a commentator. He chuckled as Gus nuzzled into him, draping his arm over Gus' shoulder.
"Like you're one to talk," Gus mumbled lazily. "You're a limpet all the damn time."
"And yet you always deny me. Like, cuddling in that graveyard? Would have been amazing. And was vitally necessary to us solving that case."
"No, it wasn't," Gus said, but it had no sting; he still sounded a little syrupy around the edges.
"Yes, it -- okay, maybe not vital, but I know that I always concentrate better after a good skin sesh."
"That's exactly why I gotta regulate."
Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Regulate?"
"Regulate," Gus repeated, rubbing circles on Shawn's hip with his thumb. "'Cause if you had your way, we'd walk around all the time stuck together like we were literally glued at the hip."
"Like a four-legged four-armed chocolate-and-vanilla crime-solving machine?" Shawn considered. "I'm seeing absolutely no down side to this."
"Yeah," Gus murmured against Shawn's neck, smiling. "You wouldn't."
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"And here comes the sweet post-sex Gus limpet action," Shawn said, voice pitched like a commentator.
Better than Being a Barnacle
"Shawn," Gus exhaled from the back of his throat, hips jerking. His orgasm left him feeling warm and lead-limbed, grinning with his eyes half-closed. He laid splayed like a starfish across the bed for a few moments, chest rising and falling.
Yawning, he turned so they were face to face, and snaked his limbs through Shawn's.
"And here comes the sweet post-sex Gus limpet action," Shawn said, voice pitched like a commentator. He chuckled as Gus nuzzled into him, draping his arm over Gus' shoulder.
"Like you're one to talk," Gus mumbled lazily. "You're a limpet all the damn time."
"And yet you always deny me. Like, cuddling in that graveyard? Would have been amazing. And was vitally necessary to us solving that case."
"No, it wasn't," Gus said, but it had no sting; he still sounded a little syrupy around the edges.
"Yes, it -- okay, maybe not vital, but I know that I always concentrate better after a good skin sesh."
"That's exactly why I gotta regulate."
Shawn raised an eyebrow. "Regulate?"
"Regulate," Gus repeated, rubbing circles on Shawn's hip with his thumb. "'Cause if you had your way, we'd walk around all the time stuck together like we were literally glued at the hip."
"Like a four-legged four-armed chocolate-and-vanilla crime-solving machine?" Shawn considered. "I'm seeing absolutely no down side to this."
"Yeah," Gus murmured against Shawn's neck, smiling. "You wouldn't."
[[ dreamwidth entry | reply @ dw |
comments ]]