FIC: Quarter Life Crisis (7/24?) - Shawn/Carlton - PG-13
Title: Quarter Life Crisis (7/24?)
author: PookaSeraph
pairing: Carlton/Shawn
rating: PG-13
disclaimer: Not mine, Never will be
summary: Carlton spends his morning after freaking out, but not just for the usual reasons.
Previous Parts:
[One] | [Two] | [Three] | [Four] | [Five] | [Six]
Unnumbered future parts:
[ N ] | [N+1]
Carlton woke up groggily to his cell phone ringing in his ear. It was his day off and no one should be calling him this early in the morning. He made a grab for the phone.
"Lassiter." He answered the phone hoping it wasn't some sort of emergency.
"Carlton, it's Henry Spencer. You weren't on the docks at your usual hour, wanted to make sure you were still going to make it."
"Henry, hi," Carlton groped for a good lie, "I was working later than I expected. I'll be there by 6am." He hung up the phone and set it on the table, taking in his surroundings. He was not in his room, he was not wearing any clothes, and he had a naked Shawn Spencer snaking his arms around him and nuzzling into his shoulder. Shawn let out a half-moaning whine when Carlton tried to pull away.
"I've got to go," Carlton protested.
"You are not running off to go fishing with my dad after all of that amazing sex!?" And, wouldn't you know, that disbelieving whine was not sexy at all. "And for the record, you are never to say the name Henry in this bed again ... ever."
"It's a deal. I'll be back before noon if you want." Shawn made a rumbling purring noise of assent that made Carlton want to curl back up into bed and blow off fishing with Henry Spencer. Instead he plodded towards the bathroom and tried to calculate how much morning routine he had to skip to still be there by 6am.
A quick check of the medicine cabinets revealed a bottle of tangerine listerine and Carlton smiled at that. He looked out into the bedroom where Shawn was curled up hiding from the light being cast from the bathroom. Shawn was a tangerine kind of guy. Carlton glared at the mirror, a tangerine kind of guy who had left a hickey on his collar bone.
He was actually three quarters of the way through a quick shower when his brain came screeching to a halt. He had just had sex with Shawn, gay sex, his first gay sex ever. If he was honest with himself he knew this had been building for months. He was drawn to Shawn and couldn't seem to stop himself. That more than anything else terrified him.
He'd had some sort of fascination with Shawn from the moment they'd met and it had only gotten worse over the intervening months. Personal space violations stacked on top of too intimate touching that Carlton didn't seem to be able to force himself to stop.
And now he was going to spend his entire morning with Henry Spencer. He rested his head against the cool tiles of the shower and seriously reconsidered calling up Henry to cancel.
Instead he finished showering, towel dried, and pulled on his clothes from yesterday, thankfully mostly not wrinkled and not smelly, and dashed out the door.
He actually had his fishing pole in the trunk and made it to the dock with a good three minutes to spare. Henry looked vaguely irritated and Carlton was automatically defensive. He wasn't going to leave until 6am anyway and he hadn't been late, just not early. And so while he might usually have offered up an apology he decided against it. Instead he waved hello and hoped he didn't still smell like sex.
"Late evening?" Henry offered, vaguely sympathetic.
"You know how it is," Carlton lied a little smoother this time. Thankfully he knew that Henry would not feel the need to continue the conversation once they actually got out on the water.
Carlton tended to think of fishing as a quiet and relaxing hobby, a tradition instilled by his grandfather. Not today.
Today his mind was cluttered with memories of last night. The feeling of Shawn pressed against him hard, back to the counter. Whimpering and clawing at buttons. Trying to open his shirt while simultaneously keeping his mouth pressed hard against Carlton's. Added pressure only making Shawn moan harder, and Carlton wasn't entirely sure where to categorize that in his strange and newly-slightly-gay head space. He liked the feel of Shawn beneath him, the press of Shawn's thigh against his cock.
His brain caught up with him again, screaming at him to stop thinking about having sex with Shawn when he was sitting next to Henry. He actually had to concentrate on fishing.
His mind drifted off again. Shawn spread out on top of russet red bed sheets moaning and arching up as Carlton's mouth licked and nipped across tight pectorals and abs. Carlton fumbling as he tried to figure out the mechanics of stroking another man's cock while Shawn distracted him with a casual swipe of a thumb while he worked Carlton's erection.
"You should probably choke up on the rod a little more, get a better grip." Carlton flushed slightly red. He didn't even bother to argue. This had to have been one of the stupidest ideas he'd ever had.
He'd been married, he'd had in-laws, he'd had sex with their daughter, but there was something colossally different this time. He wasn't entirely sure he could sit here next to Henry, fishing of all things, while thoughts of Henry's son pinned under him flitted through his mind.
"Shawn hasn't been giving you too much of a hard time at work, has he?" Lassiter bit his tongue slightly.
"No, not at work."
"I saw that case over at the strip club." Carlton realized this was some sort of punishment from God for having sex with Shawn. Since that case every noise and every hip-twitch from Shawn had driven Carlton to the most unprofessional distraction imaginable, and now Henry was unintentionally causing Carlton to rehash it in his mind.
"I think Spencer enjoyed that one just a little too much." He was pleased to realize he could still manage to imbue his words with some sort of ire. Most of that feigned ire dissolved when he remembered Shawn dancing with little more than a badge to protect his modesty. He could almost accept that he was slightly gay now, but he really needed to figure out how to purge those memories so he could get on with his life without being in a constant state of semi-arousal from Shawn's presence or memory.
Henry just shook his head. Carlton couldn't exactly be sure, he was hardly an expert on Henry's emotions, but the older man seemed sad, maybe angry. It was hard to tell.
"He never takes anything seriously." Carlton knew that feeling. He'd been fighting with that since he realized exactly how long he'd been lusting after Shawn. How do you have a relationship, or whatever it was they were having, with someone who can't take a single thing seriously?
"Well, he has been at the 'psychic' thing for over six months," Carlton found himself retorting. Carlton took a moment to reflect on exactly how screwed he was if he was already starting to defend Shawn's flakiness.
"Six months?" Henry seemed truly surprised by that. Carlton just nodded. "Wow ..." Henry trailed off for several minutes and Carlton was all too happy to focus back on fishing. "That's a first."
Carlton realized he'd actually known that about Shawn. He'd seen Shawn's record, knew his employment history, six months of employment was a huge commitment for him. And there is was again, another reminder of the the immaturity and the irresponsibility.
Carlton was questioning his previously rigidly straight sexuality for someone who would probably get bored in under a month, move on to something pretty, blonde, probably something like O'Hara, and by then Carlton would have already invested just a little too much energy and a little too much time and maybe a little too much of his heart.
"... second date." Carlton's ears pricked up and he turned towards Henry.
"I'm sorry?"
"I said it would be a minor miracle if he would keep the job and manage a second date." Carlton just looked confused. "He's incapable of working for anything. Second dates are too much work."
Carlton just nodded, staring out across the blue water. Thankfully Henry had drifted back into silence. He was lost in his own thoughts and probably wouldn't have noticed anyway if the elder Spencer had started up another conversation.
Shawn might have been joking but he'd said last night was at least their third date. He'd thought it was silly at the time, a transparent way to bring thoughts around to sex. Shawn had been pursuing him for weeks. He almost turned to look Henry in the eyes and tell him exactly that. The part of his brain that kept him from making a total ass of himself managed to avoid actually saying it.
He spent the rest of the morning wondering if he could trust all these snippets of information to prove that this was more than a passing interest for Shawn.
Carlton was pretty sure he'd passed into 'pretty gay' the moment he'd come to the thought of Shawn's strip tease a week ago. The next day had been filled with the abject fear that somehow someone would realize what he'd done. It didn't help when he'd pressed Shawn against the rail at the shooting range, plundering his mouth, aroused from the fear, from Shawn, and from the faint gunpowder smell. He'd gone to Shawn's yesterday knowing that it was supposed to be some sort of date. That he'd left and then come back expressly hoping for sex was really stretching it.
It anyone ever found out, he was taking his career in his hands. Oh, they couldn't fire him, and O'Hara was pretty liberal, she wouldn't mind backing up a queer partner. Being a gay cop was alright, as long as no one ever knew.
He could have picked any woman in the world to have a relationship and it wouldn't cause half the problems Shawn would. Even sleeping with Lucinda had been less of a bad idea than this. She'd started the relationship. He wasn't stupid enough to come on to a younger, female, junior detective. He didn't even get a slap on the wrist when Shawn outed them to the station house. If anything there'd been 'atta boys' that weren't even appropriate or right.
Carlton didn't think he was unreasonable to feel the need for that extra assurance from Shawn. Until this morning he wasn't even entirely sure it wasn't some sort of strange practical joke. Shawn's sleepy and guileless curling up in his arms had done more to placate that fear than anything from the night before.
Shawn made him smile. Shawn made him horny. Shawn seemed to understand exactly what he was saying even when he couldn't figure out what he was saying. Shawn just kept trying to win him over. Carlton hadn't felt this way in years, back when he and Sam were still together, before the job and one too many missed anniversaries drove her away.
Carlton liked to think he was logical and responsible, but he obviously wasn't because he was getting antsy to leave this torturous bonding experience and get back to whatever Shawn had promised with that purring growl of his.
After a few hours of awkward silence, they hadn't caught anything and Henry turned the boat around and headed back in. That brought them back a good deal earlier than Carlton had originally expected and he made it back to Shawn's apartment well before ten. The door was locked, and so Carlton had to knock. A few seconds later, a fully clothed Shawn opened the door and had a delighted and slightly surprised smile.
"You're extra early. I was going to make pancakes!"
Carlton didn't answer and just pushed his way into Shawn's personal space. Shawn had already wrapped a hand around Carlton's neck and opened his mouth when he got there. Carlton started walking Shawn backwards to the bedroom, Shawn seemed quite willing, his kisses becoming more enthusiastic.
"Did I miss your post-gay-sex, heterosexual freak-out?" Shawn asked, puzzled.
"Yes. I had that this morning, on a boat."
"You had a freak out with my father? I think I should be really jealous here!" Carlton laughed continuing towards the bedroom. They arrived and he pushed Shawn down onto the bed.
"I swear I was just about to tell him I'd slept with you."
Shawn pulled off his shirt, fluffing his hair slightly. Carlton ran his eyes over Shawn and took a moment to enjoy the hard planes of his chest. He ran his hands across Shawn's stomach and felt him tense as he tried not to giggle. Carlton unbuttoned Shawn's jeans and yanked them and the boxers down past Shawn's feet and onto the floor.
"Don't do that, I want to be there when we tell him. It'll be awesome!"
*
Carlton was pretty sure he didn't want to analyze why he found more satisfaction in being naked with Shawn, sweaty, sticky, and knowing he was going to have to take another shower than he had in anything else in quite a long time.
Shawn seemed obsessed with cataloging every inch of him with eyes, lips, and fingers, and Carlton was beginning to wonder what he'd gotten himself into because it was well over two hours later and he was pretty sure he should at least pretend to have a productive day off.
He seemed to have worn down and the frenetic exploration had settled to just a gentle teasing of fingers along his sides. He had to give Shawn credit for at least one thing: he was very good at sex.
"Lassy, you're too pensive. I've obviously not been doing my job properly."
"No it's ... this could destroy my career, Spencer."
"Shawn," he corrected.
"Not to mention that I wasn't gay a week ago."
Shawn stopped running his fingers across Carlton's stomach, and instead turned flat on his back, lacing his fingers together across his chest. The carefree mirth that had been there a few moments ago disappeared, but was quickly replaced again.
"Did you eat? I can make pancakes." Shawn got out of bed, displaying the perfect broad toned shoulders and back, along with firm legs and ass.
"Spenc-Shawn." Shawn hunted for discarded boxer shorts, ignoring Carlton. "Shawn?"
Shawn turned around, face blank.
"Shawn, come back to bed."
Carlton hadn't even begun to consider that Shawn actually might have his own confusion about this but he couldn't even begin to figure out what they might be. And whatever it was he clearly didn't want to talk about it, preferring to hide behind making out and pancakes.
Shawn slid back into bed and Carlton kissed him softly.
"I'm not very good at this," he said it in his incredibly mock-earnest tone. Carlton kissed him again, trying to figure out what he meant.
"Sex?"
"Way to mess with a guy's confidence!" Shawn snapped, but there wasn't any fire to it, it was sassy and joking.
"I was going to disagree if that's what you meant." Shawn smiled and softly nipped Carlton's lower lip. Carlton couldn't help but smile in response. "I'm not a mind reader, Shawn."
"The after sex."
"Again, I think you're doing pretty well."
"No, tomorrow, next week." Shawn sounded like he was getting frustrated. Carlton rested his head against Shawn's chest. So he was right, Shawn had turned his world upside-down and was going to run for the hills. "I want to be, though. I've never really done this before."
Carlton didn't have any words for exactly how messed up a pair they made.
author: PookaSeraph
pairing: Carlton/Shawn
rating: PG-13
disclaimer: Not mine, Never will be
summary: Carlton spends his morning after freaking out, but not just for the usual reasons.
Previous Parts:
[One] | [Two] | [Three] | [Four] | [Five] | [Six]
Unnumbered future parts:
[ N ] | [N+1]
Carlton woke up groggily to his cell phone ringing in his ear. It was his day off and no one should be calling him this early in the morning. He made a grab for the phone.
"Lassiter." He answered the phone hoping it wasn't some sort of emergency.
"Carlton, it's Henry Spencer. You weren't on the docks at your usual hour, wanted to make sure you were still going to make it."
"Henry, hi," Carlton groped for a good lie, "I was working later than I expected. I'll be there by 6am." He hung up the phone and set it on the table, taking in his surroundings. He was not in his room, he was not wearing any clothes, and he had a naked Shawn Spencer snaking his arms around him and nuzzling into his shoulder. Shawn let out a half-moaning whine when Carlton tried to pull away.
"I've got to go," Carlton protested.
"You are not running off to go fishing with my dad after all of that amazing sex!?" And, wouldn't you know, that disbelieving whine was not sexy at all. "And for the record, you are never to say the name Henry in this bed again ... ever."
"It's a deal. I'll be back before noon if you want." Shawn made a rumbling purring noise of assent that made Carlton want to curl back up into bed and blow off fishing with Henry Spencer. Instead he plodded towards the bathroom and tried to calculate how much morning routine he had to skip to still be there by 6am.
A quick check of the medicine cabinets revealed a bottle of tangerine listerine and Carlton smiled at that. He looked out into the bedroom where Shawn was curled up hiding from the light being cast from the bathroom. Shawn was a tangerine kind of guy. Carlton glared at the mirror, a tangerine kind of guy who had left a hickey on his collar bone.
He was actually three quarters of the way through a quick shower when his brain came screeching to a halt. He had just had sex with Shawn, gay sex, his first gay sex ever. If he was honest with himself he knew this had been building for months. He was drawn to Shawn and couldn't seem to stop himself. That more than anything else terrified him.
He'd had some sort of fascination with Shawn from the moment they'd met and it had only gotten worse over the intervening months. Personal space violations stacked on top of too intimate touching that Carlton didn't seem to be able to force himself to stop.
And now he was going to spend his entire morning with Henry Spencer. He rested his head against the cool tiles of the shower and seriously reconsidered calling up Henry to cancel.
Instead he finished showering, towel dried, and pulled on his clothes from yesterday, thankfully mostly not wrinkled and not smelly, and dashed out the door.
He actually had his fishing pole in the trunk and made it to the dock with a good three minutes to spare. Henry looked vaguely irritated and Carlton was automatically defensive. He wasn't going to leave until 6am anyway and he hadn't been late, just not early. And so while he might usually have offered up an apology he decided against it. Instead he waved hello and hoped he didn't still smell like sex.
"Late evening?" Henry offered, vaguely sympathetic.
"You know how it is," Carlton lied a little smoother this time. Thankfully he knew that Henry would not feel the need to continue the conversation once they actually got out on the water.
Carlton tended to think of fishing as a quiet and relaxing hobby, a tradition instilled by his grandfather. Not today.
Today his mind was cluttered with memories of last night. The feeling of Shawn pressed against him hard, back to the counter. Whimpering and clawing at buttons. Trying to open his shirt while simultaneously keeping his mouth pressed hard against Carlton's. Added pressure only making Shawn moan harder, and Carlton wasn't entirely sure where to categorize that in his strange and newly-slightly-gay head space. He liked the feel of Shawn beneath him, the press of Shawn's thigh against his cock.
His brain caught up with him again, screaming at him to stop thinking about having sex with Shawn when he was sitting next to Henry. He actually had to concentrate on fishing.
His mind drifted off again. Shawn spread out on top of russet red bed sheets moaning and arching up as Carlton's mouth licked and nipped across tight pectorals and abs. Carlton fumbling as he tried to figure out the mechanics of stroking another man's cock while Shawn distracted him with a casual swipe of a thumb while he worked Carlton's erection.
"You should probably choke up on the rod a little more, get a better grip." Carlton flushed slightly red. He didn't even bother to argue. This had to have been one of the stupidest ideas he'd ever had.
He'd been married, he'd had in-laws, he'd had sex with their daughter, but there was something colossally different this time. He wasn't entirely sure he could sit here next to Henry, fishing of all things, while thoughts of Henry's son pinned under him flitted through his mind.
"Shawn hasn't been giving you too much of a hard time at work, has he?" Lassiter bit his tongue slightly.
"No, not at work."
"I saw that case over at the strip club." Carlton realized this was some sort of punishment from God for having sex with Shawn. Since that case every noise and every hip-twitch from Shawn had driven Carlton to the most unprofessional distraction imaginable, and now Henry was unintentionally causing Carlton to rehash it in his mind.
"I think Spencer enjoyed that one just a little too much." He was pleased to realize he could still manage to imbue his words with some sort of ire. Most of that feigned ire dissolved when he remembered Shawn dancing with little more than a badge to protect his modesty. He could almost accept that he was slightly gay now, but he really needed to figure out how to purge those memories so he could get on with his life without being in a constant state of semi-arousal from Shawn's presence or memory.
Henry just shook his head. Carlton couldn't exactly be sure, he was hardly an expert on Henry's emotions, but the older man seemed sad, maybe angry. It was hard to tell.
"He never takes anything seriously." Carlton knew that feeling. He'd been fighting with that since he realized exactly how long he'd been lusting after Shawn. How do you have a relationship, or whatever it was they were having, with someone who can't take a single thing seriously?
"Well, he has been at the 'psychic' thing for over six months," Carlton found himself retorting. Carlton took a moment to reflect on exactly how screwed he was if he was already starting to defend Shawn's flakiness.
"Six months?" Henry seemed truly surprised by that. Carlton just nodded. "Wow ..." Henry trailed off for several minutes and Carlton was all too happy to focus back on fishing. "That's a first."
Carlton realized he'd actually known that about Shawn. He'd seen Shawn's record, knew his employment history, six months of employment was a huge commitment for him. And there is was again, another reminder of the the immaturity and the irresponsibility.
Carlton was questioning his previously rigidly straight sexuality for someone who would probably get bored in under a month, move on to something pretty, blonde, probably something like O'Hara, and by then Carlton would have already invested just a little too much energy and a little too much time and maybe a little too much of his heart.
"... second date." Carlton's ears pricked up and he turned towards Henry.
"I'm sorry?"
"I said it would be a minor miracle if he would keep the job and manage a second date." Carlton just looked confused. "He's incapable of working for anything. Second dates are too much work."
Carlton just nodded, staring out across the blue water. Thankfully Henry had drifted back into silence. He was lost in his own thoughts and probably wouldn't have noticed anyway if the elder Spencer had started up another conversation.
Shawn might have been joking but he'd said last night was at least their third date. He'd thought it was silly at the time, a transparent way to bring thoughts around to sex. Shawn had been pursuing him for weeks. He almost turned to look Henry in the eyes and tell him exactly that. The part of his brain that kept him from making a total ass of himself managed to avoid actually saying it.
He spent the rest of the morning wondering if he could trust all these snippets of information to prove that this was more than a passing interest for Shawn.
Carlton was pretty sure he'd passed into 'pretty gay' the moment he'd come to the thought of Shawn's strip tease a week ago. The next day had been filled with the abject fear that somehow someone would realize what he'd done. It didn't help when he'd pressed Shawn against the rail at the shooting range, plundering his mouth, aroused from the fear, from Shawn, and from the faint gunpowder smell. He'd gone to Shawn's yesterday knowing that it was supposed to be some sort of date. That he'd left and then come back expressly hoping for sex was really stretching it.
It anyone ever found out, he was taking his career in his hands. Oh, they couldn't fire him, and O'Hara was pretty liberal, she wouldn't mind backing up a queer partner. Being a gay cop was alright, as long as no one ever knew.
He could have picked any woman in the world to have a relationship and it wouldn't cause half the problems Shawn would. Even sleeping with Lucinda had been less of a bad idea than this. She'd started the relationship. He wasn't stupid enough to come on to a younger, female, junior detective. He didn't even get a slap on the wrist when Shawn outed them to the station house. If anything there'd been 'atta boys' that weren't even appropriate or right.
Carlton didn't think he was unreasonable to feel the need for that extra assurance from Shawn. Until this morning he wasn't even entirely sure it wasn't some sort of strange practical joke. Shawn's sleepy and guileless curling up in his arms had done more to placate that fear than anything from the night before.
Shawn made him smile. Shawn made him horny. Shawn seemed to understand exactly what he was saying even when he couldn't figure out what he was saying. Shawn just kept trying to win him over. Carlton hadn't felt this way in years, back when he and Sam were still together, before the job and one too many missed anniversaries drove her away.
Carlton liked to think he was logical and responsible, but he obviously wasn't because he was getting antsy to leave this torturous bonding experience and get back to whatever Shawn had promised with that purring growl of his.
After a few hours of awkward silence, they hadn't caught anything and Henry turned the boat around and headed back in. That brought them back a good deal earlier than Carlton had originally expected and he made it back to Shawn's apartment well before ten. The door was locked, and so Carlton had to knock. A few seconds later, a fully clothed Shawn opened the door and had a delighted and slightly surprised smile.
"You're extra early. I was going to make pancakes!"
Carlton didn't answer and just pushed his way into Shawn's personal space. Shawn had already wrapped a hand around Carlton's neck and opened his mouth when he got there. Carlton started walking Shawn backwards to the bedroom, Shawn seemed quite willing, his kisses becoming more enthusiastic.
"Did I miss your post-gay-sex, heterosexual freak-out?" Shawn asked, puzzled.
"Yes. I had that this morning, on a boat."
"You had a freak out with my father? I think I should be really jealous here!" Carlton laughed continuing towards the bedroom. They arrived and he pushed Shawn down onto the bed.
"I swear I was just about to tell him I'd slept with you."
Shawn pulled off his shirt, fluffing his hair slightly. Carlton ran his eyes over Shawn and took a moment to enjoy the hard planes of his chest. He ran his hands across Shawn's stomach and felt him tense as he tried not to giggle. Carlton unbuttoned Shawn's jeans and yanked them and the boxers down past Shawn's feet and onto the floor.
"Don't do that, I want to be there when we tell him. It'll be awesome!"
*
Carlton was pretty sure he didn't want to analyze why he found more satisfaction in being naked with Shawn, sweaty, sticky, and knowing he was going to have to take another shower than he had in anything else in quite a long time.
Shawn seemed obsessed with cataloging every inch of him with eyes, lips, and fingers, and Carlton was beginning to wonder what he'd gotten himself into because it was well over two hours later and he was pretty sure he should at least pretend to have a productive day off.
He seemed to have worn down and the frenetic exploration had settled to just a gentle teasing of fingers along his sides. He had to give Shawn credit for at least one thing: he was very good at sex.
"Lassy, you're too pensive. I've obviously not been doing my job properly."
"No it's ... this could destroy my career, Spencer."
"Shawn," he corrected.
"Not to mention that I wasn't gay a week ago."
Shawn stopped running his fingers across Carlton's stomach, and instead turned flat on his back, lacing his fingers together across his chest. The carefree mirth that had been there a few moments ago disappeared, but was quickly replaced again.
"Did you eat? I can make pancakes." Shawn got out of bed, displaying the perfect broad toned shoulders and back, along with firm legs and ass.
"Spenc-Shawn." Shawn hunted for discarded boxer shorts, ignoring Carlton. "Shawn?"
Shawn turned around, face blank.
"Shawn, come back to bed."
Carlton hadn't even begun to consider that Shawn actually might have his own confusion about this but he couldn't even begin to figure out what they might be. And whatever it was he clearly didn't want to talk about it, preferring to hide behind making out and pancakes.
Shawn slid back into bed and Carlton kissed him softly.
"I'm not very good at this," he said it in his incredibly mock-earnest tone. Carlton kissed him again, trying to figure out what he meant.
"Sex?"
"Way to mess with a guy's confidence!" Shawn snapped, but there wasn't any fire to it, it was sassy and joking.
"I was going to disagree if that's what you meant." Shawn smiled and softly nipped Carlton's lower lip. Carlton couldn't help but smile in response. "I'm not a mind reader, Shawn."
"The after sex."
"Again, I think you're doing pretty well."
"No, tomorrow, next week." Shawn sounded like he was getting frustrated. Carlton rested his head against Shawn's chest. So he was right, Shawn had turned his world upside-down and was going to run for the hills. "I want to be, though. I've never really done this before."
Carlton didn't have any words for exactly how messed up a pair they made.