Comment Fic Collection #1 - Brief (Mis)Adventures in the Life of Shawn Spencer
So technically these are already posted in this post...but I like having things organized all nice and neat...so I'm putting them here as well.
Thanks for the prompts!
FANDOMS: 4 Psych plus 1 Psych/Torchwood
PAIRINGS: 5 Shawn/Lassiter plus 1 Shawn/PC Andy/Rhys/Gwen (OT4?)
RATING: PG to R
WARNINGS: #1 for nudity, #2 for AU, #3 for AMTDI, #4 for fluff and #5 for more nudity + kissing
SUMMARY: My friends have dirty minds. Or, at least, I interpret their prompts as such...
#1 - In which Shawn gains new incentive to frequent the gym (Shawn/Lassiter R-ish)
for andieshep "Shawn get's a glimpse of Lassie's goods in the gym showers and catches himself staring in interest. Go nuts..."
Shawn wouldn't exactly say he'd been stalking Detective Lassiter. He'd been telling himself he needed to find a new gym for weeks, really, and if he just so happened to see Carlton walk into a particular establishment of work-outery while he was minding his own business outside that new smoothie shop, was it his fault he trusted Lassie's judgement on such things? And besides, Shawn never turned down a new venue for tormenting the other man. (The station was beginning to get a bit old-hat.)
By the time Shawn had been through the whole boring "Welcome to our Gym" tour, he couldn't spot Lassie anywhere. He'd spent the whole tour finding the best spots to keep himself in line with the mirrored walls (that way Carlton would never be deprived of the sight of Shawn, grinning right behind him). But now he couldn't find the detective. Not by the bench press, or the elliptical machines or even the treadmills. With a disappointed sigh (but definitely NOT a pout) Shawn made his way to the locker room to pick out a locker. (No trip was totally lost if Shawn got to use a label-maker)
The locker room was mostly empty. One guy in the corner was in the process of tying his cross-trainers and Shawn could hear at least one showerhead running, but other than that he figured his locker selection process would go uninterrupted. He reached the end of the first row of lockers and moved toward the back of the second. He was passing the open shower area and figured he might as well check it out.
Honestly, he'd given up on spotting Lassie in the gym that day. He couldn't help it if the shock of finding the man still there caused his jaw to drop. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact Lassiter was currently standing under the only occupied showerhead, completely naked.
Lassiter was positioned in profile to Shawn, his arms up and running shampoo through his hair. Shawn swallowed hard as he watched the water run down Carlton's arm toward his right armpit. Some if it continued its journey, sliding down along the hair of Lassiter's chest to create a sort of glistening effect over his pecs as he turned toward Shawn to rinse his hair. Shawn found himself following the path of a particular drop of water as it slipped along Carlton's sternum and kept...going...south...
Carlton Lassiter: Full Frontal. Shawn's heartrate sped up as if he'd just spent the past hour in a Spin Class instead of on an introductory tour. He stood, mesmerized as a large, soapy hand followed the path of that lucky drop of water and slid southward...
"Uh...Mr. Spencecus?" Shawn jumped with a yelp and twisted to face the reedy kid who'd sold him his membership. "I forgot to give you your coupon book."
"Thanks!" Shawn managed to say with a grin as he snatched the booklet from the gym employee. The kid beat a hasty retreat and Shawn turned...to face an angry Lassiter, wearing nothing but the towel...wearing nothing but a towel with his arms crossed across his still glistening chest...
"What the hell are you doing here Spencer?" Carlton grumbled before moving around Shawn to get to the locker next to him. Shawn tried very hard to ignore the way the towel nearly slipped off as Lassie reached for a stick of deodorant on the top shelf of his locker. Shawn gulped and forced his leer into a grin as he realized Carlton was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Picking out my locker!" Shawn answered brightly. He slapped his label (S. Spencecus) on the door of the locker right next to Carlton's. Carlton stared at it for a long moment before his face twisted into an annoyed expression.
"I've got to find a new gym," Lassiter muttered to himself as he grabbed a shaving kit and moved off toward the row of sinks and mirrors. Shawn edged along after him, looking for a way to stay out of the mirrors for a change.
/end
#2 - In which hose-showing offers are made. (Shawn/Lassiter PG-13ish)
for xela_fic "Firefighter!Shawn and cop!Lassie"
Shawn walked across the lawn to where the cop sat, oxygen mask still over his nose and mouth. "Nice save," he said to the man as he reached his side. The cop blinked blue-eyes up at him for a moment before he let the mask drop.
"Thanks," he croaked. "But isn't this where you're supposed to lecture me about how dumbass cops shouldn't run into burning buildings?" Shawn grinned.
"What's the fun in telling you something you already know?" he asked. The cop raised an eyebrow.
"So what did you come all the way over here for?" The cop looked pointedly over at the group of Shawn's co-workers where they stood across the lawn, laughing in the officer's direction. "Wait, don't tell me. This is where you ask if I'd like to see your hose, right? So your buddies get an extra laugh?" The cop coughed as he stood. He was taller than Shawn had expected and Shawn frowned up at him.
"Actually, I just came over to tell you 'nice save'," Shawn said. "But if you want to see my hose..." The cop glared at him, but Shawn merely grinned. It took a moment before the cop's eyes widened and a definite blush worked its way out from under the soot-covered face.
"You're not joking...are you?" the man said in disbelief. Shawn kept grinning. It wasn't exactly a 'no.'
"Shawn Spencer," he said, holding out a hand. The cop stared at it a moment before he took it with his own.
"Carlton Lassiter," he replied, cautiously. Shawn gave his hand a firm shake before he let it go.
"So, Carly, my good man," Shawn began as he suddenly flung an arm around the cops shoulders. Lassiter stiffened and looked over at him in surprise. "Got any fires you need put out?"
"You did not just ask that," Lassiter practically groaned before he coughed again.
"What?" Shawn said in mock confusion as he let his arm drop. "Don't I look like a guy who finds 'em hot and leaves 'em wet?" The cop gave him a half-hearted glare and turned toward the line of police cruisers behind the fire engines. Shawn grinned to himself and made a mental note to volunteer to drop off the fire report at the police station later.
/end
#3 - In which Shawn ends up in a naked pile in Wales (Shawn/Lassiter, Shawn/PC Andy/Rhys/Gwen PG-13ish)
for senor_coconut_1 "Shawn/PC Andy...DO EET...and, for funsies, a side of Rhys and Lassiter."
Rhys really didn't want to know what he was looking at. When Gwen had asked him to swing 'round Andy's to check on the guy (she'd heard from a mutual friend he hadn't been into work for a few days) he definitely hadn't expected to walk in on this.
"Rhys!" Andy cried happily as he spotted the other man in the doorway. "Give us a hand, then." The last thing Rhys wanted to do was get a hand anywhere near that.
Andy was nude, on all fours in the middle of his living room. That would have been bad enough...without adding in the just as nude man positioned directly behind him. The second nude man grinned at Rhys.
"Hiya!" he said brightly.
"We're a bit stuck," Andy said. Rhys wanted very badly to cover his ears. He had no problems with the gays, didn't mean he wanted to know the details on how exactly these two were 'stuck'. In the end, he was too torn between covering his ears or his eyes and just stood there.
"Uh...is your friend stuck now too?" the stranger asked. (Figures he'd be an American, Rhys thought)
"Rhys?" Andy was looking at him in concern. Why the hell hadn't either one of them moved?
A buzzing broke the silence of the room and Rhys jumped. "That's just sick!" he cried, really not wanting to know. He was surprised by the stranger's put-upon sigh.
"It's my cell phone," the stranger said in exasperation. "It's been going off for the past three hours. Which is more than I can say about..."
"Why don't you answer it then?" Rhys interrupted quickly.
"We're stuck," Andy repeated, sounding a bit miserable.
"Uh...don't they make...stuff...to make that...easier..." Rhys was trying very hard not to think about such things.
"I think he's trying to ask if we used lube," the second man said. Rhys watched Andy turn a very deep shade of crimson. The second man sighed. "Look, Rhys is it?"
"Rhys Williams," Rhys confirmed.
"Nice to meet ya, Rhys. I'm Shawn. Old friend of Andy's. Right Andy?" Andy looked ready to answer, but Shawn moved on. "Last night, someone threw that little seashell in here and we haven't been able to move since." Rhys looked around until he spotted a small, purple-ish seashell lying on the floor under the window. He moved toward it and was about to bend to pick it up...
"Don't touch it!" Andy and Shawn yelled at the same time. Rhys stood and glared at them before he remembered they were both naked and he had to look away again.
"Maybe you should ring Gwen," Andy suggested. "This seems like another one of her spooky-dos, doesn't it?" Rhys wasn't going to argue with that, he just wasn't quite sure how to explain to his wife what he was seeing.
"Answer my phone first," Shawn said. "Lassie's probably worked himself into a tizzy by now."
"Lassie?" Rhys asked as he cautiously looked around the room. The phone was buzzing along the end table.
"My boyfriend," Shawn said in exasperation.
"Boyfriend?" Rhys asked with a raised eyebrow as he glanced over at the two men (the rear angle wasn't any less incriminating than the front).
"This isn't what it looks like," Shawn assured him. Andy was red again.
Rhys picked up the phone. "Hello?" he greeted uncertainly.
"Hello?" a voice replied. "Who is this? Where's Shawn?" The voice was as American as Shawn's, and sounded angry.
"Uh...he's a little...busy at the moment..." Rhys stalled. Shawn rolled his eyes.
"I'M MYSTICALLY STUCK TO A WELSHMAN!" Shawn shouted, loud enough to be picked up by the phone. There was silence on the other end for a moment.
"I really don't want to know, do I?" 'Lassie' asked.
"You really don't, mate," Rhys agreed.
"When he's 'mystically' unstuck, tell him to call me." The man's voice had taken on a tone Rhys recognized from Gwen when she was very, very cross.
"Will do." He ended the call. "He says you're supposed to call him," Rhys told Shawn. Shawn sighed.
"Maybe you'd best call Gwen now..." Andy suggested, sounding hopeful.
---
"Tell me Ianto, do I smell?" Jack asked an hour later.
"Sir?" Ianto's voice was dripping with amusement and when Jack looked over at him, he could tell he was trying very hard not to crack a grin.
"I never get invited to the parties." He turned back and looked at the four people piled naked together in the middle of the living room floor.
"Jack, love," Gwen said in tense tone from underneath Andy. "I'll throw a bloody party in your bloody honor if you get us out of here!" Jack and Ianto shared a grin. Jack spotted the seashell near the window and sighed.
"You touched it, didn't you?" he asked in exasperation. Four sets of voices all began arguing with various versions of "I told him not to!" and "How as I supposed to know how it worked!?"
Jack sighed again and looked to Ianto. "Better 'round up some blankets, Ianto," Jack said as he flipped open his wrist computer and fiddled with the settings. "They're all looking a bit chilled."
"Jack!" three voices grumbled with varying tones of threat as the pile suddenly collapsed.
A fourth voice came from somewhere near PC Andy's left armpit, "That was fun!"
/end
#4 - In which Carlton interrogates Shawn on the matter of missing socks (Shawn/Lassiter PGish)
for rockinhamburger "Socks."
When he gives Shawn drawer space, he thinks it'll be much like the old days of sharing an underwear drawer with Victoria: they'll each have their separate sides. In the back of his mind he knows sharing anything with Shawn is never that simple, but there are times when even Carlton Lassiter is a dreamer.
It's not really much of a problem when Carlton has to sort through three pairs of Shawn's boxers to get to his own. (On a good day, he might even admit that he smiles when he has to shift the pair with the little handcuffs on them) It slips into a nuisance, however, once Carlton begins to find socks missing their mates.
At first, he thinks it's his own fault. It's not like he's never given up on finding a matching sock before and just thrown the single sock in the drawer hoping to find its mate later. But one morning, he finds himself standing in front of his dresser holding up five single socks, none that match each other. He frowns even as he hears Shawn humming behind him.
"Developing a sock fetish there, Lassie?" Shawn asks as he pushes Carlton out of the way enough to grab a pair of boxers.
"Have you been taking my socks?"
"Hmm?" Shawn murmurs, glancing over as he pulls on his underwear.
"My socks. They're disappearing by the halves." Shawn frowns for a moment before looking at the socks in Carlton's hands.
"Oooh. Those." Carlton narrows a glare in Shawn's direction, wondering what the man's done now. "I needed them for Mismatch Thursday," Shawn says matter-of-factly, turning toward the closet.
"Mismatch Thursday?" Carlton asks, slightly cautious because he's not so sure he really wants to know.
"Yeah. Every Thursday Tom Blair's has half price wings if you wear mismatch clothes." Carlton frowns and looks down at the socks still in his hands.
"And that means you need my socks because...?" he prods. Shawn rolls his eyes as he zips up his jeans.
"All of my socks are white. Duh." Carlton blinks down at the navy, black and grey socks he's holding.
"I really should just know better than to ask, shouldn't I?" he mutters to himself. Shawn grins as he steps up to him.
"Oh come on, Lassie," Shawn says as he reaches for one of the black socks. "There is a plus side to this." Carlton looks at Shawn doubtfully.
"I have a legitimate excuse for wearing one black sock and one navy?" Shawn sighs and leans in to kiss him softly.
"No silly! Lunch is on me today!" Shawn moves away quickly, waving Carlton's black sock triumphantly with one of his own white ones.
Carlton stares after him for a moment before sighing and turning back to the drawer, determined to find a matching set.
/end
#5 - In which Carlton's underwear goes on vacation (Shawn/Lassiter R)
also for rockinhamburger with a general request for hot fanfic
Carlton can feel his blood pressure rising as he throws pair after pair of socks out of the dresser and onto the floor. There's no way he's out of clean underwear.
"Shawn!" he yells. There have been a few times when Shawn's borrowed a pair (or four) of Carlton's boxers and if someone's to blame for the lack of such garments, Carlton knows it's probably Shawn.
Shawn appears in the bedroom doorway. He grins as he leans against the frame, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Carlton's gaze flickers downward to see that Shawn doesn't seem to be wearing any of the missing underwear.
"What happened to my underwear?" Carlton grumbles, shoving a handful of socks back into the open drawer. Shawn tries to look innocent and, as usual, fails miserable.
"Whatever do you mean, dear Lassie?" he drawls, dramatically batting his eyelashes. Carlton bristles, but loses some of his menace as he nearly loses his towel. Shawn's grin is back on his face as Carlton barely catches the material in time.
"Don't stop it on my account," Shawn says, taking a step into the room. Carlton glares at him.
"Where's my underwear, Spencer?" Carlton hisses. Shawn shrugs as he stops just outside of Carlton's reach.
"Dunno. It's No Panties Monday; all the underwear in all the world goes on some sort of mystical vacation." Carlton thinks if he glares any harder, his eyes will be closed.
"Shawn..." Carlton means the growl to sound like a threat, but he can tell by Shawn's expression the other man is taking it in an entirely different way. (And if Carlton's eyes drift involuntarily south one more time, he may actually mean it that way...) "This is my one day off all week and I've got errands to run."
"Sorry Carly," Shawn says, smile turning sly as he steps in closer. "Your suits can hang out at the dry cleaners a bit longer." Shawn's slowly backing him against the dresser. Carlton wants to argue, but he's not as immune to Shawn's charms as he once was. It's hard to turn him away when he knows exactly what that mouth can do when it's put to better things than talking.
"I want my underwear back, Spencer," Carlton says in as stern a tone as he can manage. Shawn is pressed against him now and Carlton doesn't even need to look down to know Shawn's aroused. In another few seconds, the towel's going to be useless in hiding anything anyway.
"I think we'd better let them know what they're missing out on when they're off in Vacationland," Shawn says with a smile before he leans in and covers Carlton's mouth with his own.
Carlton can't help the small moan that escapes him. There's something about Shawn that tastes better when they've been arguing. Carlton grabs onto his arms near the elbows as Shawn leans further into him. Shawn's hard against his thigh, making small thrusts as he pushes his tongue into Carlton's mouth. Carlton moans again and starts to thrust back. The towel's in the way of what they both want, but neither man seems capable of thought enough to move it.
Shawn pulls back after a hot moment, looking a little dazed as he taps a finger to his chin. "You know," he says. "I think I know where that underwear went to..." With a growl, Carlton tackles him to the bed. Shawn squeaks and squirms as Carlton's mouth latches out his neck. "Lassie!" he cries. "But what about your errands?"
"Shut up, Shawn," Carlton manages to order as he pulls back enough to throw away the towel. Shawn's grinning up at him.
"My evil plan worked," he whispers. Carlton rolls his eyes as he leans back down to kiss him.
"Only because I let it, Spencer. Only because I let it."
/end
Thanks for the prompts!
FANDOMS: 4 Psych plus 1 Psych/Torchwood
PAIRINGS: 5 Shawn/Lassiter plus 1 Shawn/PC Andy/Rhys/Gwen (OT4?)
RATING: PG to R
WARNINGS: #1 for nudity, #2 for AU, #3 for AMTDI, #4 for fluff and #5 for more nudity + kissing
SUMMARY: My friends have dirty minds. Or, at least, I interpret their prompts as such...
#1 - In which Shawn gains new incentive to frequent the gym (Shawn/Lassiter R-ish)
for andieshep "Shawn get's a glimpse of Lassie's goods in the gym showers and catches himself staring in interest. Go nuts..."
Shawn wouldn't exactly say he'd been stalking Detective Lassiter. He'd been telling himself he needed to find a new gym for weeks, really, and if he just so happened to see Carlton walk into a particular establishment of work-outery while he was minding his own business outside that new smoothie shop, was it his fault he trusted Lassie's judgement on such things? And besides, Shawn never turned down a new venue for tormenting the other man. (The station was beginning to get a bit old-hat.)
By the time Shawn had been through the whole boring "Welcome to our Gym" tour, he couldn't spot Lassie anywhere. He'd spent the whole tour finding the best spots to keep himself in line with the mirrored walls (that way Carlton would never be deprived of the sight of Shawn, grinning right behind him). But now he couldn't find the detective. Not by the bench press, or the elliptical machines or even the treadmills. With a disappointed sigh (but definitely NOT a pout) Shawn made his way to the locker room to pick out a locker. (No trip was totally lost if Shawn got to use a label-maker)
The locker room was mostly empty. One guy in the corner was in the process of tying his cross-trainers and Shawn could hear at least one showerhead running, but other than that he figured his locker selection process would go uninterrupted. He reached the end of the first row of lockers and moved toward the back of the second. He was passing the open shower area and figured he might as well check it out.
Honestly, he'd given up on spotting Lassie in the gym that day. He couldn't help it if the shock of finding the man still there caused his jaw to drop. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact Lassiter was currently standing under the only occupied showerhead, completely naked.
Lassiter was positioned in profile to Shawn, his arms up and running shampoo through his hair. Shawn swallowed hard as he watched the water run down Carlton's arm toward his right armpit. Some if it continued its journey, sliding down along the hair of Lassiter's chest to create a sort of glistening effect over his pecs as he turned toward Shawn to rinse his hair. Shawn found himself following the path of a particular drop of water as it slipped along Carlton's sternum and kept...going...south...
Carlton Lassiter: Full Frontal. Shawn's heartrate sped up as if he'd just spent the past hour in a Spin Class instead of on an introductory tour. He stood, mesmerized as a large, soapy hand followed the path of that lucky drop of water and slid southward...
"Uh...Mr. Spencecus?" Shawn jumped with a yelp and twisted to face the reedy kid who'd sold him his membership. "I forgot to give you your coupon book."
"Thanks!" Shawn managed to say with a grin as he snatched the booklet from the gym employee. The kid beat a hasty retreat and Shawn turned...to face an angry Lassiter, wearing nothing but the towel...wearing nothing but a towel with his arms crossed across his still glistening chest...
"What the hell are you doing here Spencer?" Carlton grumbled before moving around Shawn to get to the locker next to him. Shawn tried very hard to ignore the way the towel nearly slipped off as Lassie reached for a stick of deodorant on the top shelf of his locker. Shawn gulped and forced his leer into a grin as he realized Carlton was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Picking out my locker!" Shawn answered brightly. He slapped his label (S. Spencecus) on the door of the locker right next to Carlton's. Carlton stared at it for a long moment before his face twisted into an annoyed expression.
"I've got to find a new gym," Lassiter muttered to himself as he grabbed a shaving kit and moved off toward the row of sinks and mirrors. Shawn edged along after him, looking for a way to stay out of the mirrors for a change.
/end
#2 - In which hose-showing offers are made. (Shawn/Lassiter PG-13ish)
for xela_fic "Firefighter!Shawn and cop!Lassie"
Shawn walked across the lawn to where the cop sat, oxygen mask still over his nose and mouth. "Nice save," he said to the man as he reached his side. The cop blinked blue-eyes up at him for a moment before he let the mask drop.
"Thanks," he croaked. "But isn't this where you're supposed to lecture me about how dumbass cops shouldn't run into burning buildings?" Shawn grinned.
"What's the fun in telling you something you already know?" he asked. The cop raised an eyebrow.
"So what did you come all the way over here for?" The cop looked pointedly over at the group of Shawn's co-workers where they stood across the lawn, laughing in the officer's direction. "Wait, don't tell me. This is where you ask if I'd like to see your hose, right? So your buddies get an extra laugh?" The cop coughed as he stood. He was taller than Shawn had expected and Shawn frowned up at him.
"Actually, I just came over to tell you 'nice save'," Shawn said. "But if you want to see my hose..." The cop glared at him, but Shawn merely grinned. It took a moment before the cop's eyes widened and a definite blush worked its way out from under the soot-covered face.
"You're not joking...are you?" the man said in disbelief. Shawn kept grinning. It wasn't exactly a 'no.'
"Shawn Spencer," he said, holding out a hand. The cop stared at it a moment before he took it with his own.
"Carlton Lassiter," he replied, cautiously. Shawn gave his hand a firm shake before he let it go.
"So, Carly, my good man," Shawn began as he suddenly flung an arm around the cops shoulders. Lassiter stiffened and looked over at him in surprise. "Got any fires you need put out?"
"You did not just ask that," Lassiter practically groaned before he coughed again.
"What?" Shawn said in mock confusion as he let his arm drop. "Don't I look like a guy who finds 'em hot and leaves 'em wet?" The cop gave him a half-hearted glare and turned toward the line of police cruisers behind the fire engines. Shawn grinned to himself and made a mental note to volunteer to drop off the fire report at the police station later.
/end
#3 - In which Shawn ends up in a naked pile in Wales (Shawn/Lassiter, Shawn/PC Andy/Rhys/Gwen PG-13ish)
for senor_coconut_1 "Shawn/PC Andy...DO EET...and, for funsies, a side of Rhys and Lassiter."
Rhys really didn't want to know what he was looking at. When Gwen had asked him to swing 'round Andy's to check on the guy (she'd heard from a mutual friend he hadn't been into work for a few days) he definitely hadn't expected to walk in on this.
"Rhys!" Andy cried happily as he spotted the other man in the doorway. "Give us a hand, then." The last thing Rhys wanted to do was get a hand anywhere near that.
Andy was nude, on all fours in the middle of his living room. That would have been bad enough...without adding in the just as nude man positioned directly behind him. The second nude man grinned at Rhys.
"Hiya!" he said brightly.
"We're a bit stuck," Andy said. Rhys wanted very badly to cover his ears. He had no problems with the gays, didn't mean he wanted to know the details on how exactly these two were 'stuck'. In the end, he was too torn between covering his ears or his eyes and just stood there.
"Uh...is your friend stuck now too?" the stranger asked. (Figures he'd be an American, Rhys thought)
"Rhys?" Andy was looking at him in concern. Why the hell hadn't either one of them moved?
A buzzing broke the silence of the room and Rhys jumped. "That's just sick!" he cried, really not wanting to know. He was surprised by the stranger's put-upon sigh.
"It's my cell phone," the stranger said in exasperation. "It's been going off for the past three hours. Which is more than I can say about..."
"Why don't you answer it then?" Rhys interrupted quickly.
"We're stuck," Andy repeated, sounding a bit miserable.
"Uh...don't they make...stuff...to make that...easier..." Rhys was trying very hard not to think about such things.
"I think he's trying to ask if we used lube," the second man said. Rhys watched Andy turn a very deep shade of crimson. The second man sighed. "Look, Rhys is it?"
"Rhys Williams," Rhys confirmed.
"Nice to meet ya, Rhys. I'm Shawn. Old friend of Andy's. Right Andy?" Andy looked ready to answer, but Shawn moved on. "Last night, someone threw that little seashell in here and we haven't been able to move since." Rhys looked around until he spotted a small, purple-ish seashell lying on the floor under the window. He moved toward it and was about to bend to pick it up...
"Don't touch it!" Andy and Shawn yelled at the same time. Rhys stood and glared at them before he remembered they were both naked and he had to look away again.
"Maybe you should ring Gwen," Andy suggested. "This seems like another one of her spooky-dos, doesn't it?" Rhys wasn't going to argue with that, he just wasn't quite sure how to explain to his wife what he was seeing.
"Answer my phone first," Shawn said. "Lassie's probably worked himself into a tizzy by now."
"Lassie?" Rhys asked as he cautiously looked around the room. The phone was buzzing along the end table.
"My boyfriend," Shawn said in exasperation.
"Boyfriend?" Rhys asked with a raised eyebrow as he glanced over at the two men (the rear angle wasn't any less incriminating than the front).
"This isn't what it looks like," Shawn assured him. Andy was red again.
Rhys picked up the phone. "Hello?" he greeted uncertainly.
"Hello?" a voice replied. "Who is this? Where's Shawn?" The voice was as American as Shawn's, and sounded angry.
"Uh...he's a little...busy at the moment..." Rhys stalled. Shawn rolled his eyes.
"I'M MYSTICALLY STUCK TO A WELSHMAN!" Shawn shouted, loud enough to be picked up by the phone. There was silence on the other end for a moment.
"I really don't want to know, do I?" 'Lassie' asked.
"You really don't, mate," Rhys agreed.
"When he's 'mystically' unstuck, tell him to call me." The man's voice had taken on a tone Rhys recognized from Gwen when she was very, very cross.
"Will do." He ended the call. "He says you're supposed to call him," Rhys told Shawn. Shawn sighed.
"Maybe you'd best call Gwen now..." Andy suggested, sounding hopeful.
---
"Tell me Ianto, do I smell?" Jack asked an hour later.
"Sir?" Ianto's voice was dripping with amusement and when Jack looked over at him, he could tell he was trying very hard not to crack a grin.
"I never get invited to the parties." He turned back and looked at the four people piled naked together in the middle of the living room floor.
"Jack, love," Gwen said in tense tone from underneath Andy. "I'll throw a bloody party in your bloody honor if you get us out of here!" Jack and Ianto shared a grin. Jack spotted the seashell near the window and sighed.
"You touched it, didn't you?" he asked in exasperation. Four sets of voices all began arguing with various versions of "I told him not to!" and "How as I supposed to know how it worked!?"
Jack sighed again and looked to Ianto. "Better 'round up some blankets, Ianto," Jack said as he flipped open his wrist computer and fiddled with the settings. "They're all looking a bit chilled."
"Jack!" three voices grumbled with varying tones of threat as the pile suddenly collapsed.
A fourth voice came from somewhere near PC Andy's left armpit, "That was fun!"
/end
#4 - In which Carlton interrogates Shawn on the matter of missing socks (Shawn/Lassiter PGish)
for rockinhamburger "Socks."
When he gives Shawn drawer space, he thinks it'll be much like the old days of sharing an underwear drawer with Victoria: they'll each have their separate sides. In the back of his mind he knows sharing anything with Shawn is never that simple, but there are times when even Carlton Lassiter is a dreamer.
It's not really much of a problem when Carlton has to sort through three pairs of Shawn's boxers to get to his own. (On a good day, he might even admit that he smiles when he has to shift the pair with the little handcuffs on them) It slips into a nuisance, however, once Carlton begins to find socks missing their mates.
At first, he thinks it's his own fault. It's not like he's never given up on finding a matching sock before and just thrown the single sock in the drawer hoping to find its mate later. But one morning, he finds himself standing in front of his dresser holding up five single socks, none that match each other. He frowns even as he hears Shawn humming behind him.
"Developing a sock fetish there, Lassie?" Shawn asks as he pushes Carlton out of the way enough to grab a pair of boxers.
"Have you been taking my socks?"
"Hmm?" Shawn murmurs, glancing over as he pulls on his underwear.
"My socks. They're disappearing by the halves." Shawn frowns for a moment before looking at the socks in Carlton's hands.
"Oooh. Those." Carlton narrows a glare in Shawn's direction, wondering what the man's done now. "I needed them for Mismatch Thursday," Shawn says matter-of-factly, turning toward the closet.
"Mismatch Thursday?" Carlton asks, slightly cautious because he's not so sure he really wants to know.
"Yeah. Every Thursday Tom Blair's has half price wings if you wear mismatch clothes." Carlton frowns and looks down at the socks still in his hands.
"And that means you need my socks because...?" he prods. Shawn rolls his eyes as he zips up his jeans.
"All of my socks are white. Duh." Carlton blinks down at the navy, black and grey socks he's holding.
"I really should just know better than to ask, shouldn't I?" he mutters to himself. Shawn grins as he steps up to him.
"Oh come on, Lassie," Shawn says as he reaches for one of the black socks. "There is a plus side to this." Carlton looks at Shawn doubtfully.
"I have a legitimate excuse for wearing one black sock and one navy?" Shawn sighs and leans in to kiss him softly.
"No silly! Lunch is on me today!" Shawn moves away quickly, waving Carlton's black sock triumphantly with one of his own white ones.
Carlton stares after him for a moment before sighing and turning back to the drawer, determined to find a matching set.
/end
#5 - In which Carlton's underwear goes on vacation (Shawn/Lassiter R)
also for rockinhamburger with a general request for hot fanfic
Carlton can feel his blood pressure rising as he throws pair after pair of socks out of the dresser and onto the floor. There's no way he's out of clean underwear.
"Shawn!" he yells. There have been a few times when Shawn's borrowed a pair (or four) of Carlton's boxers and if someone's to blame for the lack of such garments, Carlton knows it's probably Shawn.
Shawn appears in the bedroom doorway. He grins as he leans against the frame, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Carlton's gaze flickers downward to see that Shawn doesn't seem to be wearing any of the missing underwear.
"What happened to my underwear?" Carlton grumbles, shoving a handful of socks back into the open drawer. Shawn tries to look innocent and, as usual, fails miserable.
"Whatever do you mean, dear Lassie?" he drawls, dramatically batting his eyelashes. Carlton bristles, but loses some of his menace as he nearly loses his towel. Shawn's grin is back on his face as Carlton barely catches the material in time.
"Don't stop it on my account," Shawn says, taking a step into the room. Carlton glares at him.
"Where's my underwear, Spencer?" Carlton hisses. Shawn shrugs as he stops just outside of Carlton's reach.
"Dunno. It's No Panties Monday; all the underwear in all the world goes on some sort of mystical vacation." Carlton thinks if he glares any harder, his eyes will be closed.
"Shawn..." Carlton means the growl to sound like a threat, but he can tell by Shawn's expression the other man is taking it in an entirely different way. (And if Carlton's eyes drift involuntarily south one more time, he may actually mean it that way...) "This is my one day off all week and I've got errands to run."
"Sorry Carly," Shawn says, smile turning sly as he steps in closer. "Your suits can hang out at the dry cleaners a bit longer." Shawn's slowly backing him against the dresser. Carlton wants to argue, but he's not as immune to Shawn's charms as he once was. It's hard to turn him away when he knows exactly what that mouth can do when it's put to better things than talking.
"I want my underwear back, Spencer," Carlton says in as stern a tone as he can manage. Shawn is pressed against him now and Carlton doesn't even need to look down to know Shawn's aroused. In another few seconds, the towel's going to be useless in hiding anything anyway.
"I think we'd better let them know what they're missing out on when they're off in Vacationland," Shawn says with a smile before he leans in and covers Carlton's mouth with his own.
Carlton can't help the small moan that escapes him. There's something about Shawn that tastes better when they've been arguing. Carlton grabs onto his arms near the elbows as Shawn leans further into him. Shawn's hard against his thigh, making small thrusts as he pushes his tongue into Carlton's mouth. Carlton moans again and starts to thrust back. The towel's in the way of what they both want, but neither man seems capable of thought enough to move it.
Shawn pulls back after a hot moment, looking a little dazed as he taps a finger to his chin. "You know," he says. "I think I know where that underwear went to..." With a growl, Carlton tackles him to the bed. Shawn squeaks and squirms as Carlton's mouth latches out his neck. "Lassie!" he cries. "But what about your errands?"
"Shut up, Shawn," Carlton manages to order as he pulls back enough to throw away the towel. Shawn's grinning up at him.
"My evil plan worked," he whispers. Carlton rolls his eyes as he leans back down to kiss him.
"Only because I let it, Spencer. Only because I let it."
/end