Rules to Like By, Psych FanFic
Master Fic List
TITLE: Rules to Love Like By
RATING: PGish
CHARACTERS: Shawn/Carlton (brief appearance by Juliet)
WORD COUNT: approx. 1,800
WARNINGS: Implications of naked men in bed together; but all they get around to in this fic is kissing. *sigh*
SUMMARY: Carlton thinks it's time to lay down a few ground rules.
AO3 Link
Disclaimer: I own neither of these lovely men people.
Author's Note: For andieshep who requested something taking place before Miscommunication Has Its Own Rewards out of my Timestamp Meme. So it's kinda a prequel, but both fics can be read entirely separately (if one so wishes).
It's fluffy and pointless, but think of it as a Valentine's Day gift (of sorts).
----------
The fourth time he woke with a certain psychic wrapped around him, Carlton began to think he probably shouldn’t still be calling it an accident. You could only ‘mistakenly’ stumble into someone else’s bed so many times, after all, and since both men were even on the mistaken stumbling, Carlton thought he might need to consider the possibility of it happening on a consistent basis.
“Wha?” Shawn asked in the middle of a massive yawn. The fifteen minutes it’d taken Carlton to wake Shawn had given him some time to think over what he wanted to say.
“Rules, Spencer. I think we need some.” Shawn scratched lazily at his scalp as he blinked at the man sitting next to him.
“Rules, Lassie? Are we gonna play Monopoly?” Shawn’s eyes brightened. “I call Thimble!” Carlton rolled his eyes, suppressing a groan of annoyance.
“No, we’re not going to play Monopoly, Shawn. I’m talking…wait a minute. Who wants to be the thimble?” Shawn took a turn at rolling his eyes.
“Duh; only everyone.” Carlton gave Shawn a skeptical look before deciding he’d get nowhere if he tried to argue everyone wanted to be the racecar (especially since it was a moot point given the battered edition of the game stashed in his hall closet only held the dog, the wheelbarrow and a random penny). Carlton shook his head to clear it and looked at Shawn seriously.
“We need rules for what we’re doing here,” Carlton said, waving a hand in the space between them. Shawn’s eyes widened before he grinned.
“What? Like a safe word? Lassie, you kinky beastie. Onomatopoeia.” Carlton gaped at him until Shawn sighed dramatically. “Fine. Mango. That’s nice and simple.”
Carlton started to stand from the bed in frustration and was surprised when Shawn caught onto his wrist and pulled him back to the mattress. Shawn was finally looking at him with a serious expression. Carlton took a deep breath as Shawn let go of his wrist.
“This is going to keep happening, isn’t it?” Carlton asked in a low voice. Shawn frowned, tilting his head a bit in question. “You waking up here; me waking up there.” Shawn gave him a small grin.
“Hopefully with the good, sweaty stuff in between,” he said. Carlton forced his mind not to go there before he could get to his point.
“We need to set up some ground rules.” Shawn sighed and leaned back against the headboard, apparently settling in for a long discussion.
“Lemme guess, Rule #1: Don’t tell anyone?” There was a hint of bitterness in Shawn’s tone and Carlton almost let his expression soften a bit.
“When you can tell me what this is, then we’ll talk about what we tell other people about it.” Shawn held Carlton’s gaze for a long moment.
“Fair enough,” Shawn conceded with a small shrug. “Rule #2?”
“This stays out of the station.” Shawn raised an eyebrow. “I’ve slept with a co-worker before, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m not stealing private moments in interrogation rooms and having close calls in the break room again.” He left it unsaid that it’d been the downfall of the last relationship (Shawn had been there, after all).
“I dunno, Carly,” Shawn said. “I have this fantasy of you in the gun range, wearing nothing but your holster…” Carlton felt a warm flush across his face as he swallowed heavily.
“Spencer…” he warned.
“Rule #3,” Shawn interrupted. “You try to call me Shawn more often.” Carlton frowned.
“How is that a rule?” Shawn shrugged.
“Just want to see if you can do it.” Carlton rolled his eyes.
“Fine, Shawn.” Shawn grinned triumphantly. “Rule #4: No sex when we’re working a case together.”
“Lassie! I’d never even think of defiling a crime scene!” Shawn cried in mock offense. “I mean, unless you really wanted to. And it wasn’t too bloody…”
“Shawn…you know what I mean. I work best without distraction. And I’m sure whatever it is you ‘do’ works better if you’re not spending the whole time thinking about getting laid.” Shawn smirked a bit. “What?”
“You’re really just making that a rule so the After-Case Sex is hotter, aren’t you?” Carlton’s frown felt dangerously like a pout.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carlton insisted. Shawn laughed.
“Sure you don’t,” he said. It took a lot of work for Carlton not to grin.
“I thought of another rule.” Shawn sighed in anticipation. “No talking shop in bed.” Shawn raised an eyebrow in interest. “We get enough of that animosity at the station. I don’t want to bring it here. At least, not as much as we can help it.” Shawn’s hand appeared on Carlton’s arm.
“You just don’t want to use my sexual prowess to convince you I’m right,” Shawn said with a half smile. The statement would have set Carlton off in anger if he hadn’t seen the spark of understanding in the other man’s eyes. Shawn gave his arm a light squeeze before he let go.
“So pretty much work is work and sex is sex and we’re not to let the two morph together into worky sex…or sexy work?” Shawn offered. The wording wasn’t exactly what Carlton would have chosen, but the idea was essentially the same so he nodded.
“Oh, and one more thing.” Carlton hid a smile at Shawn’s look of interest. “If I’m making an effort to call you Shawn, you should be making an effort to call me Carlton on occasion.” Shawn rewarded him with a warm smile.
“Consider it a conditional of rule number three, Carlton,” Shawn agreed. He reached out and pulled Carlton closer to him. “But that leaves us with an empty slot for Rule #6” Carlton frowned in thought. He could think of a hundred different things he wanted to prohibit between them (especially where Shawn was concerned) but he knew Shawn wouldn’t react very well if Carlton began naming them all.
“Date Night!” Shawn said suddenly. Carlton’s mouth fell open.
“Date Night?” he croaked. He thought the rules would keep the whole situation at the level of negotiation of sexual encounters. The last time Carlton had agreed to a Date Night, it’d been at the advice of a couple’s therapist charging him a couple hundred dollars an hour. (The results hadn’t exactly been satisfactory.)
“Spencer, I…” Carlton didn’t know how to finish his argument. Shawn was offering him something he hadn’t thought of pursuing again. Dating and not just…sexing (he really had been spending too much time around the younger man lately).
Shawn kissed him softly, a different kind of kiss for them. “Every other Tuesday you let me cook you dinner,” Shawn whispered. “That’s all I’m asking for, Carly. Just food.” He grinned. “Hell, you already know I’m easy. Grub and sex. What more could a guy want?” Carlton’s lip curled slightly.
“Shawn, please don’t use ‘grub’ and ‘sex’ in the same sentence ever again,” he said. “I’ll start to think you’re going to give me worms.” Shawn laughed. “Just dinner?” Carlton asked seriously.
“Well, for now. We’ll see if we can stand each other between work and bed long enough for a meal or two before we risk anything like a movie.” Carlton smiled and pulled Shawn to him for a long kiss, his hand ghosting over Shawn’s bare chest. Shawn shivered as Carlton’s fingers brushed over a nipple. He groaned into Carlton’s mouth before pulling back.
“Rule #7,” Shawn began. Carlton frowned in confusion. “Don’t get Shawn excited when you’re going to be late for work.”
Carlton’s eyes shot to the alarm clock and he cursed, seeing he had barely thirty minutes to shower, dress and make it to the station.
Shawn mostly stayed seated against the headboard as Carlton rushed between the bedroom and bathroom, getting ready for his day. Carlton was surprised when his final trip into the bedroom revealed a fully dressed Shawn sitting at the foot of the bed.
“You could’ve stayed in bed,” Carlton said as he knotted his necktie. Shawn stood with a shrug.
“I’ll surprise Gus with breakfast. He’s always amazed when he sees me before noon.” Carlton tensed as Shawn stood in front of him to straighten the tie and smooth the collar.
“What do you want for dinner?” Shawn asked with a bright smile. Carlton stared at him.
“W-what?” he asked dumbly, causing Shawn’s smile to falter slightly.
“It’s Tuesday.”
“You really want to cook me dinner?” Carlton asked in surprise. A part of him thought Shawn had just been teasing with the suggestion. Shawn took an awkward step back, ducking his head.
“Yeah. I mean…forget it,” Shawn stammered suddenly, looking a bit embarrassed. “I’ll just, uh…”
“Pasta,” Carlton blurted out. Shawn’s head shot up and he looked at Carlton expectantly. “I have a cabinet full of pasta that I can’t decide how to cook,” Carlton expanded. “Surprise me.”
Shawn grinned and stepped forward to give him a quick kiss. He was moving away again before Carlton even fully registered it.
“See you at six!” Carlton blinked after him for a moment before remembering he had less than ten minutes to get to the station.
----------
“Are you alright, Carlton?” Juliet asked when Carlton finally managed to make it to his desk (only three minutes late, he was proud to say). He looked at her in confusion.
“Huh?” he grunted, setting his briefcase in his chair as he glanced over the new paperwork in his inbox.
“You look…” Carlton raised an eyebrow and looked over at her as she hesitated. Her expression immediately lightened “…happy!” Carlton looked back at his paperwork.
“And that’s cause for concern, O’Hara?”
“Oh no! I’m glad!” she said quickly. “So what’s the good news?” Carlton considered the question. Any other day, he probably would have snapped at his partner to mind her own business. But she seemed genuinely happy he was happy and (most of the time) she was a good partner. A friend, even. Plus, he was starting the day off in the best mood he’d had in months.
“Date tonight,” Carlton answered shortly. He avoided looking at her, knowing if he did, his resolve would break and he’d grin like an idiot. He cleared his throat quickly. “I need your report on the Kinsey case in an hour.” He risked a glance up to see his partner grinning at him.
“Sure thing, Carlton.” If Carlton smiled a little in response, he’d never admit to it.
/end
TITLE: Rules to Love Like By
RATING: PGish
CHARACTERS: Shawn/Carlton (brief appearance by Juliet)
WORD COUNT: approx. 1,800
WARNINGS: Implications of naked men in bed together; but all they get around to in this fic is kissing. *sigh*
SUMMARY: Carlton thinks it's time to lay down a few ground rules.
AO3 Link
Disclaimer: I own neither of these lovely men people.
Author's Note: For andieshep who requested something taking place before Miscommunication Has Its Own Rewards out of my Timestamp Meme. So it's kinda a prequel, but both fics can be read entirely separately (if one so wishes).
It's fluffy and pointless, but think of it as a Valentine's Day gift (of sorts).
----------
The fourth time he woke with a certain psychic wrapped around him, Carlton began to think he probably shouldn’t still be calling it an accident. You could only ‘mistakenly’ stumble into someone else’s bed so many times, after all, and since both men were even on the mistaken stumbling, Carlton thought he might need to consider the possibility of it happening on a consistent basis.
“Wha?” Shawn asked in the middle of a massive yawn. The fifteen minutes it’d taken Carlton to wake Shawn had given him some time to think over what he wanted to say.
“Rules, Spencer. I think we need some.” Shawn scratched lazily at his scalp as he blinked at the man sitting next to him.
“Rules, Lassie? Are we gonna play Monopoly?” Shawn’s eyes brightened. “I call Thimble!” Carlton rolled his eyes, suppressing a groan of annoyance.
“No, we’re not going to play Monopoly, Shawn. I’m talking…wait a minute. Who wants to be the thimble?” Shawn took a turn at rolling his eyes.
“Duh; only everyone.” Carlton gave Shawn a skeptical look before deciding he’d get nowhere if he tried to argue everyone wanted to be the racecar (especially since it was a moot point given the battered edition of the game stashed in his hall closet only held the dog, the wheelbarrow and a random penny). Carlton shook his head to clear it and looked at Shawn seriously.
“We need rules for what we’re doing here,” Carlton said, waving a hand in the space between them. Shawn’s eyes widened before he grinned.
“What? Like a safe word? Lassie, you kinky beastie. Onomatopoeia.” Carlton gaped at him until Shawn sighed dramatically. “Fine. Mango. That’s nice and simple.”
Carlton started to stand from the bed in frustration and was surprised when Shawn caught onto his wrist and pulled him back to the mattress. Shawn was finally looking at him with a serious expression. Carlton took a deep breath as Shawn let go of his wrist.
“This is going to keep happening, isn’t it?” Carlton asked in a low voice. Shawn frowned, tilting his head a bit in question. “You waking up here; me waking up there.” Shawn gave him a small grin.
“Hopefully with the good, sweaty stuff in between,” he said. Carlton forced his mind not to go there before he could get to his point.
“We need to set up some ground rules.” Shawn sighed and leaned back against the headboard, apparently settling in for a long discussion.
“Lemme guess, Rule #1: Don’t tell anyone?” There was a hint of bitterness in Shawn’s tone and Carlton almost let his expression soften a bit.
“When you can tell me what this is, then we’ll talk about what we tell other people about it.” Shawn held Carlton’s gaze for a long moment.
“Fair enough,” Shawn conceded with a small shrug. “Rule #2?”
“This stays out of the station.” Shawn raised an eyebrow. “I’ve slept with a co-worker before, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m not stealing private moments in interrogation rooms and having close calls in the break room again.” He left it unsaid that it’d been the downfall of the last relationship (Shawn had been there, after all).
“I dunno, Carly,” Shawn said. “I have this fantasy of you in the gun range, wearing nothing but your holster…” Carlton felt a warm flush across his face as he swallowed heavily.
“Spencer…” he warned.
“Rule #3,” Shawn interrupted. “You try to call me Shawn more often.” Carlton frowned.
“How is that a rule?” Shawn shrugged.
“Just want to see if you can do it.” Carlton rolled his eyes.
“Fine, Shawn.” Shawn grinned triumphantly. “Rule #4: No sex when we’re working a case together.”
“Lassie! I’d never even think of defiling a crime scene!” Shawn cried in mock offense. “I mean, unless you really wanted to. And it wasn’t too bloody…”
“Shawn…you know what I mean. I work best without distraction. And I’m sure whatever it is you ‘do’ works better if you’re not spending the whole time thinking about getting laid.” Shawn smirked a bit. “What?”
“You’re really just making that a rule so the After-Case Sex is hotter, aren’t you?” Carlton’s frown felt dangerously like a pout.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carlton insisted. Shawn laughed.
“Sure you don’t,” he said. It took a lot of work for Carlton not to grin.
“I thought of another rule.” Shawn sighed in anticipation. “No talking shop in bed.” Shawn raised an eyebrow in interest. “We get enough of that animosity at the station. I don’t want to bring it here. At least, not as much as we can help it.” Shawn’s hand appeared on Carlton’s arm.
“You just don’t want to use my sexual prowess to convince you I’m right,” Shawn said with a half smile. The statement would have set Carlton off in anger if he hadn’t seen the spark of understanding in the other man’s eyes. Shawn gave his arm a light squeeze before he let go.
“So pretty much work is work and sex is sex and we’re not to let the two morph together into worky sex…or sexy work?” Shawn offered. The wording wasn’t exactly what Carlton would have chosen, but the idea was essentially the same so he nodded.
“Oh, and one more thing.” Carlton hid a smile at Shawn’s look of interest. “If I’m making an effort to call you Shawn, you should be making an effort to call me Carlton on occasion.” Shawn rewarded him with a warm smile.
“Consider it a conditional of rule number three, Carlton,” Shawn agreed. He reached out and pulled Carlton closer to him. “But that leaves us with an empty slot for Rule #6” Carlton frowned in thought. He could think of a hundred different things he wanted to prohibit between them (especially where Shawn was concerned) but he knew Shawn wouldn’t react very well if Carlton began naming them all.
“Date Night!” Shawn said suddenly. Carlton’s mouth fell open.
“Date Night?” he croaked. He thought the rules would keep the whole situation at the level of negotiation of sexual encounters. The last time Carlton had agreed to a Date Night, it’d been at the advice of a couple’s therapist charging him a couple hundred dollars an hour. (The results hadn’t exactly been satisfactory.)
“Spencer, I…” Carlton didn’t know how to finish his argument. Shawn was offering him something he hadn’t thought of pursuing again. Dating and not just…sexing (he really had been spending too much time around the younger man lately).
Shawn kissed him softly, a different kind of kiss for them. “Every other Tuesday you let me cook you dinner,” Shawn whispered. “That’s all I’m asking for, Carly. Just food.” He grinned. “Hell, you already know I’m easy. Grub and sex. What more could a guy want?” Carlton’s lip curled slightly.
“Shawn, please don’t use ‘grub’ and ‘sex’ in the same sentence ever again,” he said. “I’ll start to think you’re going to give me worms.” Shawn laughed. “Just dinner?” Carlton asked seriously.
“Well, for now. We’ll see if we can stand each other between work and bed long enough for a meal or two before we risk anything like a movie.” Carlton smiled and pulled Shawn to him for a long kiss, his hand ghosting over Shawn’s bare chest. Shawn shivered as Carlton’s fingers brushed over a nipple. He groaned into Carlton’s mouth before pulling back.
“Rule #7,” Shawn began. Carlton frowned in confusion. “Don’t get Shawn excited when you’re going to be late for work.”
Carlton’s eyes shot to the alarm clock and he cursed, seeing he had barely thirty minutes to shower, dress and make it to the station.
Shawn mostly stayed seated against the headboard as Carlton rushed between the bedroom and bathroom, getting ready for his day. Carlton was surprised when his final trip into the bedroom revealed a fully dressed Shawn sitting at the foot of the bed.
“You could’ve stayed in bed,” Carlton said as he knotted his necktie. Shawn stood with a shrug.
“I’ll surprise Gus with breakfast. He’s always amazed when he sees me before noon.” Carlton tensed as Shawn stood in front of him to straighten the tie and smooth the collar.
“What do you want for dinner?” Shawn asked with a bright smile. Carlton stared at him.
“W-what?” he asked dumbly, causing Shawn’s smile to falter slightly.
“It’s Tuesday.”
“You really want to cook me dinner?” Carlton asked in surprise. A part of him thought Shawn had just been teasing with the suggestion. Shawn took an awkward step back, ducking his head.
“Yeah. I mean…forget it,” Shawn stammered suddenly, looking a bit embarrassed. “I’ll just, uh…”
“Pasta,” Carlton blurted out. Shawn’s head shot up and he looked at Carlton expectantly. “I have a cabinet full of pasta that I can’t decide how to cook,” Carlton expanded. “Surprise me.”
Shawn grinned and stepped forward to give him a quick kiss. He was moving away again before Carlton even fully registered it.
“See you at six!” Carlton blinked after him for a moment before remembering he had less than ten minutes to get to the station.
----------
“Are you alright, Carlton?” Juliet asked when Carlton finally managed to make it to his desk (only three minutes late, he was proud to say). He looked at her in confusion.
“Huh?” he grunted, setting his briefcase in his chair as he glanced over the new paperwork in his inbox.
“You look…” Carlton raised an eyebrow and looked over at her as she hesitated. Her expression immediately lightened “…happy!” Carlton looked back at his paperwork.
“And that’s cause for concern, O’Hara?”
“Oh no! I’m glad!” she said quickly. “So what’s the good news?” Carlton considered the question. Any other day, he probably would have snapped at his partner to mind her own business. But she seemed genuinely happy he was happy and (most of the time) she was a good partner. A friend, even. Plus, he was starting the day off in the best mood he’d had in months.
“Date tonight,” Carlton answered shortly. He avoided looking at her, knowing if he did, his resolve would break and he’d grin like an idiot. He cleared his throat quickly. “I need your report on the Kinsey case in an hour.” He risked a glance up to see his partner grinning at him.
“Sure thing, Carlton.” If Carlton smiled a little in response, he’d never admit to it.
/end