Somewhere a Rainbow is Drooling, Psych FanFic
Master Fic List
TITLE: Somewhere a Rainbow is Drooling
RATING: NC-17/FRAO
WORD COUNT: ~3370
CHARACTERS: Shawn/Carlton
WARNINGS: Bad words. Sexin'. Bondage.
PROMPT: story_lottery's #24 - a rainbow
SUMMARY: Shawn takes action against Lassiter's tie collection.
AO3 Link
Disclaimer: I have no legal rights to Shawn and/or Carlton. Even if I really, really want them.
Author's Note: I have no clue where this story came from...but it's the first I've managed to write in awhile...so I'm just gonna go with it. Beta credit goes to rockinhamburger who probably deserves a medal for dealing with my poor punctuation skills and my occasional inability to specify which 'he' is sticking what where. (Thanks, hon!) Any remaining mistakes are my own because sometimes I'm stubborn and I don't listen to my beta....
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When Carlton steps out of the shower Monday morning, he moves around in his regular early morning haze. He grabs the first suit and dress shirt he can reach from the closet, not even bothering to double check whether they match or not, before he pulls them on. He's worked at the station long enough to know that none of his co-workers expect him to be a fashion model (and he dares any perp coming through to make a comment about his wardrobe). His morning routine continues as usual as he shuffles to the dresser for socks and digs his shoes out from under a pile of dirty t-shirts, before moving back to the closet and the tie rack hanging on the door. It takes him a moment of blind groping to realize there's nothing in front of him to be groped.
"Spencer," Carlton mutters under his breath. It's the only explanation he can come up with for why his entire tie rack is empty. Even the hideous novelty tie his nephew gave him two years ago is absent (which, really, isn't all that much a loss... but it's the principle of the whole thing). Shawn, the only other person to have been in his apartment in over a month (and certainly the past twenty-four hours), is the obvious prime suspect. There's also the fact the younger man threatened, just last week, to kidnap the 'atrocities of men's fashion' in order to save Lassiter from himself.
"Shawn!" he shouts as he grabs his handgun from the nightstand and shoves it into his shoulder holster. He leaves the bedroom to storm in the direction of the kitchen, knowing there he'll find the other man clinging to the espresso machine in his own version of a morning ritual.
Carlton stumbles to a halt when he unexpectedly finds Shawn leaning with his back against the bar, wearing nothing but a dangerous smile and a red silk tie knotted loosely around his throat.
"Yes, my darling?" he says in an innocent tone, even as he rotates his hips just enough Carlton can't miss he's already half-hard. Of course, Carlton's found (through nearly a year of experience) Shawn's in a perpetual state of semi-arousal. He swallows heavily, thinking about just what he'd like to do with that arousal if he wasn't already perilously close to being late for work.
"You wouldn't happen to know the whereabouts of my tie collection, would you?" the detective manages to ask.
Shawn cants his head to the side, looking thoughtful as he strokes a finger down the length of the tie he's wearing. "Hmm... nope," he says, nearly sounding convincing. Lassiter frowns as he takes a step closer to Spencer. It's more difficult than he'd like to admit, trying to be intimidating when all he really wants to do is bend the man over one of those stools and fuck him senseless. As it is, he's reciting the California Penal Code in his head as he resolutely keeps his eyes glued to Shawn's while stepping into the other man's personal space. There's a spark in Shawn's eyes that makes Carlton's slacks feel even tighter.
"Sure this one doesn't know where his friends are?" Carlton says as he grasps the tie, giving it an experimental tug. The fabric is smooth between his fingers, nearly distracting his gaze downward. The way Shawn's eyes have just dilated isn't any less a turn-on either. Shawn smiles, slow and easy, and Carlton knows for a fact he's going to be late for work.
"Oh come on, Lassie," Shawn purrs. "Do you really think a man-necklace of this caliber would hang around with the likes of your pitiful collection?" Carlton growls and pins Shawn against the bar before Shawn can slip away from him. Shawn's eyes widen slightly before he smirks up at Carlton and tilts his hips upward. Biting back a groan, Lassiter closes his eyes as Shawn's erection brushes against his own.
When he opens his eyes again, Spencer is still smirking up at him, well aware of the power he holds over the detective. It frustrates Lassiter most of the time. Not just the lack of control he has over himself where Spencer is concerned, but also the way Shawn is so sure of his control over Lassiter. Carlton wraps the tie around his fist and tugs until Shawn's lips are parting beneath his.
It's Carlton's turn to smirk at the way Shawn's panting when they finally pull apart. "Where are my ties, Spencer?" he growls as he forces a thigh between Shawn's bare legs. Shawn blinks before grinning up at him and Carlton suddenly finds himself pressed against the bar as Shawn twists enough to reverse their positions.
"Don't worry, Lassie," Shawn murmurs, his hands sliding to Carlton's belt. "I'll let you borrow this one when I'm through with you."
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Lassiter wakes Tuesday morning as something slick and cool slides across his face. He's on his way to tensing up when a familiar voice whispers in his ear, "Shh, Lassie." Carlton moans appreciatively at the feel of Shawn's lips on his neck as he sinks back into the heat behind him. It's only when he's turning his head, ready to smile lazily at his bedmate, when he feels the tug of fabric over his eyes and realizes Shawn's blindfolded him.
"Shawn?" he rasps out, unsure whether he's pissed off, nervous or extremely turned on. (His morning erection hasn't flagged any, so he figures it's mostly the last one.)
"Right here, Lassie," Shawn murmurs against Carlton's lips. Suddenly, Shawn's sliding over him, rubbing in just the right way, and Carlton doesn't even care that one of his most important senses has been taken away from him.
"Ready to earn your new tie?" Shawn pants against his neck as he keeps a steady rhythm going between them. Carlton groans and tries to lift his hips. He wants to turn his head to the alarm clock by the bed, to see how much time he has before he absolutely has to leave for work, but the fabric is tight across his eyes and Shawn grips his hand tightly when he tries to lift it.
"We've got time, Carly," he whispers. Carlton decides to let his eyes close beneath the fabric as Shawn slides down him, mouth and hands teasing in a random pattern of touch.
Carlton groans, his hips lifting as Spencer licks downward from his navel, his breath ghosting along Carlton's erection. He's gone suddenly, the foot of the bed creaking as Shawn shifts away. Carlton frowns and reaches out blindly. A hand slaps his, so at least he knows Shawn's not completely gone.
"Patience, young Carhopper," Shawn murmurs.
"Grasshopper," Carlton corrects automatically.
"I've heard it both ways."
Carlton grins into the kiss that's pressed against his lips. The foot of the bed creaks again and Carlton barely manages to suppress a laugh at the raspberry Shawn plants on his belly. "There's my good Lassie," Spencer says so softly Carlton barely hears it. Any other time, he might've knocked the obnoxious man upside the head. This time, however, he doesn't want to interrupt when Shawn's hand has finally closed around his cock.
Carlton moans as Shawn strokes him twice, his thumb teasing along the head. Carlton's hips lift again as Shawn's lips replace the thumb. Ever since that first blowjob Shawn gave him, Carlton's learned to appreciate that mouth. Obnoxious things come out of it from time to time (or... all the time...) but the things Shawn can do with that tongue... Lassiter moans again as Shawn's hand slides up his thigh. He hears the snap of a lid opening just before Shawn's pressing a finger into him.
Carlton's eyes always fall shut when Shawn prepares him, but somehow the blindfold still manages to heighten the feel of Shawn's fingers moving inside of him. "Shit," he manages to gasp as Shawn's third finger slides inside.
Shawn's mouth leaves his cock, making the blind man whimper. Carlton starts to sit up in protest as the fingers leave him too, but Shawn settles a warm hand on his chest, thumb brushing lightly across Carlton's nipple.
"Patience..." Shawn repeats. Lassiter eases back against the pillows as Shawn's mouth closes over his for a long moment. When that leaves him as well, he doesn't waste the time to mourn the loss. He's too caught up in spreading his legs and doing his part as Spencer hooks his hands behind his knees and lifts.
Both men let out soft grunts as Shawn finally pushes into Carlton. He can't see the look on Shawn's face, but he knows it from memory: the way Shawn will be biting his own lip as he stares intently down at him. "God," Carlton pants, reaching his hands out blindly to touch the man that's inside him. Shawn chuckles softly, sending warm puffs of breath against Carlton's cheeks before they're kissing again. Lassiter lets his hands slide down the smooth skin of Shawn's back as he feels the fingers flexing against his own hips.
"Someday," Shawn whispers between a kiss and a smooth, slow thrust. "We're gonna get glasses with little cameras in them... so you can see... how hot you look when we... get down and dirty." Carlton groans, as much from the thrust of Shawn's hips as from the other man's suggestion. "Or..." Shawn continues, Carlton's hands clutching at his back as one of Shawn's hands strokes lightly along the cock exposed between them, "we could just get... that mirror above the bed." Carlton groans again as Shawn's teeth briefly latch onto his earlobe.
"We are not getting a mirror above the bed, Spen...oh fuck." Shawn's using the best angle against him, thrusting deep against his prostate. Carlton's hand fumbles between them to stop Shawn from grasping his erection again. He's way too close (and from the chuckle above him, Shawn knows it). Shawn slows his thrusts, taking the opportunity to kiss Carlton wetly on the mouth. He gives off a soft "Oomph!" as Carlton wraps his arms around him, keeping them pressed close.
"Love you too, Lassie," Shawn whispers in his ear. He gives Lassiter the chance to tighten the embrace in response before he pulls back enough to thrust into him again.
Carlton loses himself to the stroke of Shawn's hip and the grip of his hand on his cock. Teeth nip at his neck before a tongue licks at his lips and all Carlton cares about is the building release.
Lassiter groans as he comes, shivering when Shawn stills his thrusts and strokes him through it. He lies, panting, when Shawn finally lets up on his softening penis to grab onto Carlton's hips. It only takes a few thrusts before Shawn's groaning into Carlton's ear and sagging against him.
Carlton regains four of his senses sometime later and lifts a hand from under Shawn's dead weight to push the blindfold from his eyes. The top of Shawn's head looks sweaty where it lays against his chest and Carlton can't help but smile fondly as he runs his hand through the damp hair.
"Mmm. Gonna need a few minutes before I can go again, Lassie," Shawn murmurs without lifting his head. Carlton rolls his eyes toward the alarm clock and sighs.
"The alarm's about to go off, anyway," he points out. He lifts a hand to pull the blindfold completely off his head and frowns at the ball of bright orange fabric he finds himself holding. "Spencer..." Shawn lifts his head and blinks bleary eyes at him. "Please tell me you don't actually expect me to wear this today." Shawn grins at him. "It won't even match anything I have." Shawn rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss him softly.
"You, my Carlypuss, are the most uncreative gay man in the world." Carlton might be pouting a little as Shawn slides away from him and moves toward the closet. He wants to feel offended as he listens to Shawn critique his (lack of) fashion sense, but all he finds himself doing is watching Shawn's bare ass as the nude psychic leans in to reach the back of the closet.
"Checking me out, Detective?" he asks, smirking as he emerges with Carlton's grey suit. Carlton just grins at him and reaches over to silence the suddenly blaring alarm.
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The bedroom is empty when Lassiter emerges from his shower Wednesday morning. He dresses in the first shirt he grabs and smiles in anticipation when he sees his tie rack is still tie-free.
Carlton tries to hide his disappointment at finding Shawn fully clothed in the kitchen, sitting on the counter next to the coffee pot. Shawn hops off the counter with a grin and waves a bright yellow tie above his head. The detective can't help but eye it with suspicion.
"What's the catch this time?" he asks. Shawn gives him an offended look Carlton might've almost believed if he didn't know Shawn so well.
"Would I attach conditions to something as petty as an article of clothing?" he asks as he loops the tie around Carlton's collar and begins a half-windsor. At Carlton's raised eyebrow, Shawn sighs and rolls his eyes. "As much as I'd love to let you blindfold me and have your wicked Lassie way with my body, you're running late and you're supposed to head that meeting this morning." Carlton almost doesn't process what Shawn is telling him; all he's really concerned with is the image of Shawn, blindfolded and begging beneath him. When he finally catches up to the words "meeting" and "morning," his eyes widen as he remembers his responsibilities and just how much Vick will kick his ass if he screws this one up.
"Oh shit!" he hisses as he quickly turns to leave. Shawn grabs him by the necktie before he gets very far, pulling him into a deep kiss. The tension floods from his body as Shawn's tongue teases his own and a long moment later, Carlton finds himself blinking at a broadly grinning Shawn.
"There," Shawn says as he smooths out the tie. "Now you're set for the day." Carlton jumps as Shawn lands a hard smack on his ass. "Knock 'em dead, Sunshine!"
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When he wakes sometime early the next day to Shawn waving a green necktie in his face, he thinks there's a pattern he should be picking up on. The detective in him is told, quite firmly, to take a hike as he watches Shawn grin and knot a makeshift blindfold around his own eyes. (He's only been fantasizing about this since the Orange Tie of Tuesday.)
Carlton grabs onto him and pulls him close. "Time to have my wicked Lassie way?" he whispers in Spencer's ear. He can't help but grin at the shiver it draws from his lover.
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There's a blue tie sitting on the dresser Friday morning. Carlton forces down a grin as he picks it up and leaves the bedroom in search of Shawn, wondering what new game awaits him. Shawn's nowhere to be found, however, and Carlton slumps, dejected, against the kitchen counter. He'd never admit it to Shawn, but he'd been looking forward to whatever Shawn was going to come up with next. He'd even skipped his shower, thinking he'd just have to take another one after "earning" his newest tie, so he's feeling a little depressed that Shawn's apparently snuck out in the middle of the night and left Carlton to dress himself.
It's then that he spots the note taped to the fridge (where Shawn found a piece of yellow construction paper and a bright green marker; Carlton doesn't bother to guess): "Lunch Date?"
By which, Carlton finds four hours later, Shawn means: "Let me let you buy us lunch and get two bites out of your burger before I yank you by your brand new necktie into the (very public) restaurant Men's Room." The laws and regulations Carlton holds dearer than his own mother (which maybe isn't the best example given how well they've been getting along lately) always manage to abandon him the moment Shawn grins up at him from his knees.
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Carlton wakes as Shawn slides from the bed, groaning at the loss of warmth along his side. Shawn turns back and gives him a smile.
"Be Arby's, Carly," he says softly. Lassiter groans again and flings an arm across his eyes to block the glare of light Shawn's letting in from the bathroom. He must doze back to sleep because he startles awake when a hand wraps around his wrist. He relaxes with a smile as he sees Spencer looming above him, pulling his arm away.
"You awake?" Shawn asks with a grin. He doesn't wait for an answer before he straddles Carlton's hips and leans down, chest-to-chest, to kiss him. Carlton hums happily, trying his best to stretch without dislodging the man on top of him. Shawn's hand starts stroking down his arm, making Carlton shiver at the contact. His eyes open when Shawn pulls his arm above his head, his attention snapping to the right when he feels the fabric Shawn's sliding across his wrist. Spencer gives him an innocent smile as he knots the wrist to the headboard.
"That's indigo?" Carlton manages to croak. Shawn beams at him, obviously proud Lassiter's finally figured his little game out.
"Nah," Shawn says. "That's violet." Carlton looks down as Shawn takes hold of his left hand and raises it toward the headboard. "This is indigo." Carlton swallows heavily as he watches Shawn secure his other hand. He wants to make a quip about how he's never wearing a tie of either color, but Shawn's mouth is covering his again, teeth lightly scraping Carlton's bottom lip. Shawn's hands run lightly down his arms, making Carlton shiver as the other man grins against his lips.
"You've been such a fashionable boy this week," Shawn murmurs. "Such a good boy."
"Spencer..." Carlton grumbles in irritation. He's learned to (mostly) tolerate the 'Lassie' comments at the station, but he (almost always) draws the line at being compared to a collie in the bedroom. Shawn just grins at him and scratches his fingers through Carlton's chest hair.
"Think I can find your sweet spot?" he asks as his hands slide down to stroke along the detective's rib cage. "Make your leg shake?" Carlton groans and strains against his bonds as one of Shawn's hands slips down to his groin. He's gasping as Shawn mouths his throat, hands lightly stroking along Carlton's thighs. The last time he let Shawn tie him up, the younger man had teased him with over an hour's worth of stroking and licking before he even acknowledged the massive erection Carlton had been sporting.
Carlton shudders as Shawn's hands run up his sides to tease his nipples. He aches to touch Shawn in return, to pull the other man to him and hurry it all along. Shawn never gives in until Lassiter's begging for it, and, on this particular morning, Carlton isn't sure he'll last.
"Shawn," he gasps, arching his back as Shawn's lips close around a nipple. Shawn makes a hum of inquiry and Carlton shivers again, his eyes falling closed. When he opens his eyes again, he's staring at the alarm clock. He frowns when he realizes there's no alarm set for the day, but the patterns Shawn's tracing with his fingers aren't exactly conducive to higher brain function. It takes him several long minutes before he remembers exactly why he didn't set an alarm the night before.
"Shawn," Carlton gasps again as he squirms beneath Shawn's wandering hands. "Spencer," he says more firmly, satisfied when Shawn lets up on the erotic massage and finally looks up at him.
"Yeah?" he asks, just on the edge of annoyance.
"It's my day off." Shawn blinks at him for a moment, apparently not seeing the relevance of the statement. "...I don't need a tie today..." Carlton tries to point out. He swallows heavily at the grin that spreads across Shawn's face. Shawn bends over him, nipping lightly at Carlton's earlobe.
"Guess that means I get to keep you tied up all day."
/end
TITLE: Somewhere a Rainbow is Drooling
RATING: NC-17/FRAO
WORD COUNT: ~3370
CHARACTERS: Shawn/Carlton
WARNINGS: Bad words. Sexin'. Bondage.
PROMPT: story_lottery's #24 - a rainbow
SUMMARY: Shawn takes action against Lassiter's tie collection.
AO3 Link
Disclaimer: I have no legal rights to Shawn and/or Carlton. Even if I really, really want them.
Author's Note: I have no clue where this story came from...but it's the first I've managed to write in awhile...so I'm just gonna go with it. Beta credit goes to rockinhamburger who probably deserves a medal for dealing with my poor punctuation skills and my occasional inability to specify which 'he' is sticking what where. (Thanks, hon!) Any remaining mistakes are my own because sometimes I'm stubborn and I don't listen to my beta....
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When Carlton steps out of the shower Monday morning, he moves around in his regular early morning haze. He grabs the first suit and dress shirt he can reach from the closet, not even bothering to double check whether they match or not, before he pulls them on. He's worked at the station long enough to know that none of his co-workers expect him to be a fashion model (and he dares any perp coming through to make a comment about his wardrobe). His morning routine continues as usual as he shuffles to the dresser for socks and digs his shoes out from under a pile of dirty t-shirts, before moving back to the closet and the tie rack hanging on the door. It takes him a moment of blind groping to realize there's nothing in front of him to be groped.
"Spencer," Carlton mutters under his breath. It's the only explanation he can come up with for why his entire tie rack is empty. Even the hideous novelty tie his nephew gave him two years ago is absent (which, really, isn't all that much a loss... but it's the principle of the whole thing). Shawn, the only other person to have been in his apartment in over a month (and certainly the past twenty-four hours), is the obvious prime suspect. There's also the fact the younger man threatened, just last week, to kidnap the 'atrocities of men's fashion' in order to save Lassiter from himself.
"Shawn!" he shouts as he grabs his handgun from the nightstand and shoves it into his shoulder holster. He leaves the bedroom to storm in the direction of the kitchen, knowing there he'll find the other man clinging to the espresso machine in his own version of a morning ritual.
Carlton stumbles to a halt when he unexpectedly finds Shawn leaning with his back against the bar, wearing nothing but a dangerous smile and a red silk tie knotted loosely around his throat.
"Yes, my darling?" he says in an innocent tone, even as he rotates his hips just enough Carlton can't miss he's already half-hard. Of course, Carlton's found (through nearly a year of experience) Shawn's in a perpetual state of semi-arousal. He swallows heavily, thinking about just what he'd like to do with that arousal if he wasn't already perilously close to being late for work.
"You wouldn't happen to know the whereabouts of my tie collection, would you?" the detective manages to ask.
Shawn cants his head to the side, looking thoughtful as he strokes a finger down the length of the tie he's wearing. "Hmm... nope," he says, nearly sounding convincing. Lassiter frowns as he takes a step closer to Spencer. It's more difficult than he'd like to admit, trying to be intimidating when all he really wants to do is bend the man over one of those stools and fuck him senseless. As it is, he's reciting the California Penal Code in his head as he resolutely keeps his eyes glued to Shawn's while stepping into the other man's personal space. There's a spark in Shawn's eyes that makes Carlton's slacks feel even tighter.
"Sure this one doesn't know where his friends are?" Carlton says as he grasps the tie, giving it an experimental tug. The fabric is smooth between his fingers, nearly distracting his gaze downward. The way Shawn's eyes have just dilated isn't any less a turn-on either. Shawn smiles, slow and easy, and Carlton knows for a fact he's going to be late for work.
"Oh come on, Lassie," Shawn purrs. "Do you really think a man-necklace of this caliber would hang around with the likes of your pitiful collection?" Carlton growls and pins Shawn against the bar before Shawn can slip away from him. Shawn's eyes widen slightly before he smirks up at Carlton and tilts his hips upward. Biting back a groan, Lassiter closes his eyes as Shawn's erection brushes against his own.
When he opens his eyes again, Spencer is still smirking up at him, well aware of the power he holds over the detective. It frustrates Lassiter most of the time. Not just the lack of control he has over himself where Spencer is concerned, but also the way Shawn is so sure of his control over Lassiter. Carlton wraps the tie around his fist and tugs until Shawn's lips are parting beneath his.
It's Carlton's turn to smirk at the way Shawn's panting when they finally pull apart. "Where are my ties, Spencer?" he growls as he forces a thigh between Shawn's bare legs. Shawn blinks before grinning up at him and Carlton suddenly finds himself pressed against the bar as Shawn twists enough to reverse their positions.
"Don't worry, Lassie," Shawn murmurs, his hands sliding to Carlton's belt. "I'll let you borrow this one when I'm through with you."
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Lassiter wakes Tuesday morning as something slick and cool slides across his face. He's on his way to tensing up when a familiar voice whispers in his ear, "Shh, Lassie." Carlton moans appreciatively at the feel of Shawn's lips on his neck as he sinks back into the heat behind him. It's only when he's turning his head, ready to smile lazily at his bedmate, when he feels the tug of fabric over his eyes and realizes Shawn's blindfolded him.
"Shawn?" he rasps out, unsure whether he's pissed off, nervous or extremely turned on. (His morning erection hasn't flagged any, so he figures it's mostly the last one.)
"Right here, Lassie," Shawn murmurs against Carlton's lips. Suddenly, Shawn's sliding over him, rubbing in just the right way, and Carlton doesn't even care that one of his most important senses has been taken away from him.
"Ready to earn your new tie?" Shawn pants against his neck as he keeps a steady rhythm going between them. Carlton groans and tries to lift his hips. He wants to turn his head to the alarm clock by the bed, to see how much time he has before he absolutely has to leave for work, but the fabric is tight across his eyes and Shawn grips his hand tightly when he tries to lift it.
"We've got time, Carly," he whispers. Carlton decides to let his eyes close beneath the fabric as Shawn slides down him, mouth and hands teasing in a random pattern of touch.
Carlton groans, his hips lifting as Spencer licks downward from his navel, his breath ghosting along Carlton's erection. He's gone suddenly, the foot of the bed creaking as Shawn shifts away. Carlton frowns and reaches out blindly. A hand slaps his, so at least he knows Shawn's not completely gone.
"Patience, young Carhopper," Shawn murmurs.
"Grasshopper," Carlton corrects automatically.
"I've heard it both ways."
Carlton grins into the kiss that's pressed against his lips. The foot of the bed creaks again and Carlton barely manages to suppress a laugh at the raspberry Shawn plants on his belly. "There's my good Lassie," Spencer says so softly Carlton barely hears it. Any other time, he might've knocked the obnoxious man upside the head. This time, however, he doesn't want to interrupt when Shawn's hand has finally closed around his cock.
Carlton moans as Shawn strokes him twice, his thumb teasing along the head. Carlton's hips lift again as Shawn's lips replace the thumb. Ever since that first blowjob Shawn gave him, Carlton's learned to appreciate that mouth. Obnoxious things come out of it from time to time (or... all the time...) but the things Shawn can do with that tongue... Lassiter moans again as Shawn's hand slides up his thigh. He hears the snap of a lid opening just before Shawn's pressing a finger into him.
Carlton's eyes always fall shut when Shawn prepares him, but somehow the blindfold still manages to heighten the feel of Shawn's fingers moving inside of him. "Shit," he manages to gasp as Shawn's third finger slides inside.
Shawn's mouth leaves his cock, making the blind man whimper. Carlton starts to sit up in protest as the fingers leave him too, but Shawn settles a warm hand on his chest, thumb brushing lightly across Carlton's nipple.
"Patience..." Shawn repeats. Lassiter eases back against the pillows as Shawn's mouth closes over his for a long moment. When that leaves him as well, he doesn't waste the time to mourn the loss. He's too caught up in spreading his legs and doing his part as Spencer hooks his hands behind his knees and lifts.
Both men let out soft grunts as Shawn finally pushes into Carlton. He can't see the look on Shawn's face, but he knows it from memory: the way Shawn will be biting his own lip as he stares intently down at him. "God," Carlton pants, reaching his hands out blindly to touch the man that's inside him. Shawn chuckles softly, sending warm puffs of breath against Carlton's cheeks before they're kissing again. Lassiter lets his hands slide down the smooth skin of Shawn's back as he feels the fingers flexing against his own hips.
"Someday," Shawn whispers between a kiss and a smooth, slow thrust. "We're gonna get glasses with little cameras in them... so you can see... how hot you look when we... get down and dirty." Carlton groans, as much from the thrust of Shawn's hips as from the other man's suggestion. "Or..." Shawn continues, Carlton's hands clutching at his back as one of Shawn's hands strokes lightly along the cock exposed between them, "we could just get... that mirror above the bed." Carlton groans again as Shawn's teeth briefly latch onto his earlobe.
"We are not getting a mirror above the bed, Spen...oh fuck." Shawn's using the best angle against him, thrusting deep against his prostate. Carlton's hand fumbles between them to stop Shawn from grasping his erection again. He's way too close (and from the chuckle above him, Shawn knows it). Shawn slows his thrusts, taking the opportunity to kiss Carlton wetly on the mouth. He gives off a soft "Oomph!" as Carlton wraps his arms around him, keeping them pressed close.
"Love you too, Lassie," Shawn whispers in his ear. He gives Lassiter the chance to tighten the embrace in response before he pulls back enough to thrust into him again.
Carlton loses himself to the stroke of Shawn's hip and the grip of his hand on his cock. Teeth nip at his neck before a tongue licks at his lips and all Carlton cares about is the building release.
Lassiter groans as he comes, shivering when Shawn stills his thrusts and strokes him through it. He lies, panting, when Shawn finally lets up on his softening penis to grab onto Carlton's hips. It only takes a few thrusts before Shawn's groaning into Carlton's ear and sagging against him.
Carlton regains four of his senses sometime later and lifts a hand from under Shawn's dead weight to push the blindfold from his eyes. The top of Shawn's head looks sweaty where it lays against his chest and Carlton can't help but smile fondly as he runs his hand through the damp hair.
"Mmm. Gonna need a few minutes before I can go again, Lassie," Shawn murmurs without lifting his head. Carlton rolls his eyes toward the alarm clock and sighs.
"The alarm's about to go off, anyway," he points out. He lifts a hand to pull the blindfold completely off his head and frowns at the ball of bright orange fabric he finds himself holding. "Spencer..." Shawn lifts his head and blinks bleary eyes at him. "Please tell me you don't actually expect me to wear this today." Shawn grins at him. "It won't even match anything I have." Shawn rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss him softly.
"You, my Carlypuss, are the most uncreative gay man in the world." Carlton might be pouting a little as Shawn slides away from him and moves toward the closet. He wants to feel offended as he listens to Shawn critique his (lack of) fashion sense, but all he finds himself doing is watching Shawn's bare ass as the nude psychic leans in to reach the back of the closet.
"Checking me out, Detective?" he asks, smirking as he emerges with Carlton's grey suit. Carlton just grins at him and reaches over to silence the suddenly blaring alarm.
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The bedroom is empty when Lassiter emerges from his shower Wednesday morning. He dresses in the first shirt he grabs and smiles in anticipation when he sees his tie rack is still tie-free.
Carlton tries to hide his disappointment at finding Shawn fully clothed in the kitchen, sitting on the counter next to the coffee pot. Shawn hops off the counter with a grin and waves a bright yellow tie above his head. The detective can't help but eye it with suspicion.
"What's the catch this time?" he asks. Shawn gives him an offended look Carlton might've almost believed if he didn't know Shawn so well.
"Would I attach conditions to something as petty as an article of clothing?" he asks as he loops the tie around Carlton's collar and begins a half-windsor. At Carlton's raised eyebrow, Shawn sighs and rolls his eyes. "As much as I'd love to let you blindfold me and have your wicked Lassie way with my body, you're running late and you're supposed to head that meeting this morning." Carlton almost doesn't process what Shawn is telling him; all he's really concerned with is the image of Shawn, blindfolded and begging beneath him. When he finally catches up to the words "meeting" and "morning," his eyes widen as he remembers his responsibilities and just how much Vick will kick his ass if he screws this one up.
"Oh shit!" he hisses as he quickly turns to leave. Shawn grabs him by the necktie before he gets very far, pulling him into a deep kiss. The tension floods from his body as Shawn's tongue teases his own and a long moment later, Carlton finds himself blinking at a broadly grinning Shawn.
"There," Shawn says as he smooths out the tie. "Now you're set for the day." Carlton jumps as Shawn lands a hard smack on his ass. "Knock 'em dead, Sunshine!"
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When he wakes sometime early the next day to Shawn waving a green necktie in his face, he thinks there's a pattern he should be picking up on. The detective in him is told, quite firmly, to take a hike as he watches Shawn grin and knot a makeshift blindfold around his own eyes. (He's only been fantasizing about this since the Orange Tie of Tuesday.)
Carlton grabs onto him and pulls him close. "Time to have my wicked Lassie way?" he whispers in Spencer's ear. He can't help but grin at the shiver it draws from his lover.
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There's a blue tie sitting on the dresser Friday morning. Carlton forces down a grin as he picks it up and leaves the bedroom in search of Shawn, wondering what new game awaits him. Shawn's nowhere to be found, however, and Carlton slumps, dejected, against the kitchen counter. He'd never admit it to Shawn, but he'd been looking forward to whatever Shawn was going to come up with next. He'd even skipped his shower, thinking he'd just have to take another one after "earning" his newest tie, so he's feeling a little depressed that Shawn's apparently snuck out in the middle of the night and left Carlton to dress himself.
It's then that he spots the note taped to the fridge (where Shawn found a piece of yellow construction paper and a bright green marker; Carlton doesn't bother to guess): "Lunch Date?"
By which, Carlton finds four hours later, Shawn means: "Let me let you buy us lunch and get two bites out of your burger before I yank you by your brand new necktie into the (very public) restaurant Men's Room." The laws and regulations Carlton holds dearer than his own mother (which maybe isn't the best example given how well they've been getting along lately) always manage to abandon him the moment Shawn grins up at him from his knees.
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Carlton wakes as Shawn slides from the bed, groaning at the loss of warmth along his side. Shawn turns back and gives him a smile.
"Be Arby's, Carly," he says softly. Lassiter groans again and flings an arm across his eyes to block the glare of light Shawn's letting in from the bathroom. He must doze back to sleep because he startles awake when a hand wraps around his wrist. He relaxes with a smile as he sees Spencer looming above him, pulling his arm away.
"You awake?" Shawn asks with a grin. He doesn't wait for an answer before he straddles Carlton's hips and leans down, chest-to-chest, to kiss him. Carlton hums happily, trying his best to stretch without dislodging the man on top of him. Shawn's hand starts stroking down his arm, making Carlton shiver at the contact. His eyes open when Shawn pulls his arm above his head, his attention snapping to the right when he feels the fabric Shawn's sliding across his wrist. Spencer gives him an innocent smile as he knots the wrist to the headboard.
"That's indigo?" Carlton manages to croak. Shawn beams at him, obviously proud Lassiter's finally figured his little game out.
"Nah," Shawn says. "That's violet." Carlton looks down as Shawn takes hold of his left hand and raises it toward the headboard. "This is indigo." Carlton swallows heavily as he watches Shawn secure his other hand. He wants to make a quip about how he's never wearing a tie of either color, but Shawn's mouth is covering his again, teeth lightly scraping Carlton's bottom lip. Shawn's hands run lightly down his arms, making Carlton shiver as the other man grins against his lips.
"You've been such a fashionable boy this week," Shawn murmurs. "Such a good boy."
"Spencer..." Carlton grumbles in irritation. He's learned to (mostly) tolerate the 'Lassie' comments at the station, but he (almost always) draws the line at being compared to a collie in the bedroom. Shawn just grins at him and scratches his fingers through Carlton's chest hair.
"Think I can find your sweet spot?" he asks as his hands slide down to stroke along the detective's rib cage. "Make your leg shake?" Carlton groans and strains against his bonds as one of Shawn's hands slips down to his groin. He's gasping as Shawn mouths his throat, hands lightly stroking along Carlton's thighs. The last time he let Shawn tie him up, the younger man had teased him with over an hour's worth of stroking and licking before he even acknowledged the massive erection Carlton had been sporting.
Carlton shudders as Shawn's hands run up his sides to tease his nipples. He aches to touch Shawn in return, to pull the other man to him and hurry it all along. Shawn never gives in until Lassiter's begging for it, and, on this particular morning, Carlton isn't sure he'll last.
"Shawn," he gasps, arching his back as Shawn's lips close around a nipple. Shawn makes a hum of inquiry and Carlton shivers again, his eyes falling closed. When he opens his eyes again, he's staring at the alarm clock. He frowns when he realizes there's no alarm set for the day, but the patterns Shawn's tracing with his fingers aren't exactly conducive to higher brain function. It takes him several long minutes before he remembers exactly why he didn't set an alarm the night before.
"Shawn," Carlton gasps again as he squirms beneath Shawn's wandering hands. "Spencer," he says more firmly, satisfied when Shawn lets up on the erotic massage and finally looks up at him.
"Yeah?" he asks, just on the edge of annoyance.
"It's my day off." Shawn blinks at him for a moment, apparently not seeing the relevance of the statement. "...I don't need a tie today..." Carlton tries to point out. He swallows heavily at the grin that spreads across Shawn's face. Shawn bends over him, nipping lightly at Carlton's earlobe.
"Guess that means I get to keep you tied up all day."
/end