The 40 hours countdown (rp for det_lassiter)
Shawn is good at many things. A master. A smooth operator. But patience, on the other hand, isn't one of his strong points.
This not allowed to touch, cuddle, kiss and 'don't even dream of getting lucky' 40 hours ban is going to be a hard task. Specially if the clock is only going to run once he and Carlton are on a one-on-one situation. It's merely ( Read more... )
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On one hand, he was glad of this, already aware that his own self imposed ban is going to make life hell. On the other hand, he's still pissed with Shawn for vanishing like that and making it abundantly clear how he valued their relationship. He's not going to forget that in any hurry.
He just hopes that he can stay pissed off enough not to give in. He feels like a girl, but he wants proof that he's not just an easy fuck.
Answering the door, he checks his watch and fakes surprise at the person on his doorstep. "Spencer! What are you doing here?"
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Good start, call him by his name. You know he appreciates that. It's the exact amount of respect/familiarity to throw him off balance in just one word.
"I'm glad to see that you were expecting me, because I can clearly see that you were thinking of me as much as I've been thinking of you. In fact, I was thinking, since we haven't had a decent meal together in ages and we've already overused the local deliveries, what about a home made meal?"
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No point in wasting too much time, though. Deep down, he wants Shawn to get the points for making an effort.
"Okay. Impress me." Stepping aside, he gestured for Shawn to come in.
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Firefox quickly comes barking and jumps around his legs, butting and demanding his attention, so, Shawn complies and kneels to greet the little dog. "Hey, boy! Missed me? Yes, you did. Yes, you did!" He laughs as he scratches the back of the corgi's ears.
He quickly gets back on his feet and heads to the kitchen, shruging his bag off his shoulder and leaving it on the couch as he passes by the living room.
"How was work? Had a tough day? I can clearly sense that it was long and messy..." He says casually.
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"They make the best pizza in Santa Barbara. Only beaten by the pizza of Bella Notte's. It's a shame that those guys are almost out of the city... Seriously, they don't even deliver here, and convincing Gus to drive there is most of the times a bitch." Shawn babbled as he kicked off his shoes.
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"Do they have a restaurant area? Maybe if they're so good, they'd be worth a night out?" Not that he was suggesting that they went out there together sometime, or anything. That would be giving Shawn the message that he was in the clear, and he wasn't. Yet.
Placing the beer on coasters on the coffee table, he moved over to his TV to get out his DVD. "Are you ready for the movie now?"
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"Would that be a date? Because dude, I'm totally saying yes. Going to that restaurant is totally worth it." Shawn said casually as he opened the can, which he quickly had to cover with his lips before more beer feel on Lassie's floor.
Shawn raised his gaze as Carlton showed off the DVD case and, with his lips still on the can, mumbled something that resembled a 'yes'.
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Then he paused. Well. It wasn't the most attractive thing to be doing with his mouth, but it had the advantage of keeping him quiet. And there didn't seem to be any drink spilt on the table, floor or couch.
"Did you have some trouble?" He asked with a smirk as he sat down on the far end of the seat.
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But not everything in Carlton Lassiter's house is still and quiet. A certain psychic just slid off the couch where he had fallen asleep while watching some foreign cowboy movie and quietly creeped towards the master bedroom.
He carefully opened the door and walked on his tiptoes towards the bed. Carefully, he grabbed the side of the sheets and, watching the man that as already inside the big king sized bed and checking that his breathing was steady and specifically sleeping, Shawn slip inside the bed.
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He rocks with the roll of his ride's hips, the sunset fading with the rest of the scenary into darkeness. He no longer feels the horse between his legs, nor the cigar in his mouth, but his body continues to jostle as he becomes more aware that he's lying down now.
The sheets he was gripping in his hands like reigns are pulled on and he pulls back, trying to steer the horse in the right direction....
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He moves closer to the other man, looking for warmth and more obviously a little snuggling. And el pollo loco guy was definitely not invited to this private party, so, Shawn wrapped his arms around his giant pineapple and hugged it close to his body. Dude, this pineapple smelled of cologne and was warm and soft. It wasn't even spikey! It was kind of hairy, though...
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... The arms around him feel real, though, solid warmth running down the length of his body. He stirs a bit, more awake now than before. He can't remember going to bed with Shawn, but he knows that it's him.
.... That's nice.....
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He hits the top of the clock, silencing it. Normally, Shawn or no, he'd be getting up for his morning run and then a shower before work. He doesn't want to move, though, because when Shawn wakes up the clock starts again.
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Things go dark and he's a bit confused for a moment. Little by little he gets aware of the warmth next to his body, a wet patch under his mouth, a chest raising, the sound of breathing and also the sound of a heart beating under his ear. Carlton's heart.
He presses his face against Carlton's chest, trying to hide it from the faint light of the room, which is already bothering him through his closed eyelids. He can't help but press his lips against Carlton's skin, but he chooses not to fully show off that he's now awake.
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He won't kiss the top of his head, as much as he feels the urge to do it. That's asking for Shawn to notice he's still allowing the contact, and he knows he shouldn't, he knows that he should have pushed him away the second he woke up.
... Just as soon as Shawn's properly awake...
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Then he'd cling to Carlton's neck and bring him close. Carlton would kiss his head and face, and Shawn would protest by trying to move his face away to get five extra minutes of sleep.
He images that scene, which feels a little pathetic deep down, but then he blames the ungodly early our and that he's dead tired.
He puts his arm a little closer to Carlton's neck. It's the best he can get away with while still pretending that he's asleep.
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