FIC: "Right Place, Wrong Time" by Regann - PG-13/R - Shawn/Lassiter (7/??)
Title: Right Place, Wrong Time (7/??)
Author: Regann
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG-13/R
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I just play with them.
Notes: This is a long multipart fic that I had to be insane to even start. But I love the boys so much, I just had to! Oh, and this is dedicated to pookaseraph. Also, please note that I will be moving to a Tues/Thurs update schedule starting next week.
Chapter Warning: This is one of the chapters that is rated R for sexual situations.
Summary: 17-year-old Shawn has a fake ID burning a hole in his pocket, a college party to crash, and a mission to stop being the only virgin in his senior class. Unfortunately, there's this big-earred, good-doing grad student by the name of Carlton who catches him in the act. The unfair nature of cosmic humor being what it is, thus begins something that'll come back to haunt them both ten years later -- when an adult Shawn Spencer decides to give psychic investigation a try.
Past Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Right Place, Wrong Time (Part 7)
Though his thoughts were beginning to sound like a broken record, Carlton wasn't sure how things with Shawn had escalated to where they stood at that moment.
It had taken some considerable willpower -- and the fear of being caught by a stray picnicker -- to pry himself away from Shawn but he'd managed it; Carlton considered it a small victory. Shawn had pouted and whined but Carlton had been able to resist and had driven to a local arcade where Shawn said his friend was waiting for him. Of course, Shawn being Shawn, it took a considerable effort to finally get him out of the car, but once again Carlton had managed.
Not that Shawn was easily deterred; in exchange for not doing a number of very embarrassing things in public, Carlton had had to agree to meet him the next day and he wasn't sure how he felt about that, either.
Actually he was sure: it just depended on where he was when he did the thinking.
When Carlton was alone, somewhere he could be logical and cool-headed, he could see what a mistake he'd be making even seeing Shawn again, let alone continuing with whatever they had -- it was reckless, dangerous, illegal. The voice in his head that sometimes sounded like his mother -- and wasn't that a terrible thing to be cursed with? -- berated him for every thought, feeling or idea he had connected with Shawn, reminded him over and over what he was putting in jeopardy when he did.
But when he was around Shawn, everything that made sense flew out of the window. It was maddening -- Shawn was maddening. When he had the kid there with him, it seemed to be perfectly okay to pin him down in his car and make out with him parked in a mostly-deserted lot where any number of his co-workers might've seen them. It even made sense to agree to Shawn's request to see him again, even when it was obvious from the flinty look in his eyes that Shawn wanted nothing more than them sweaty and naked on some flat surface.
Which was illegal, he kept reminding himself. Illegal, illegal, illegal.
It struck him, as he found himself driving toward the designated meeting spot, that he was very, very weak.
Carlton was going to have to figure it out and soon. He couldn't keep up oscillating from one decision to the other, torn up with guilt half the time and want the other. He either had to admit to himself that he was doing this and stick with it or he needed to pull the plug before it went any further.
He'd decided to give himself the weekend to make that decision. A weekend of thinking, of deliberation -- of Shawn.
Their designated meeting place was the same arcade where he'd left Shawn the night before and, as if he hadn't moved from the spot in nineteen hours, Shawn was loitering on the sidewalk when he pulled up to the curb.
Carlton had barely slowed down before Shawn was scrambling into the passenger seat. "Onward ho, Carly!" he ordered, pointing directly ahead. "And take the next left!"
He wasn't sure where Shawn was leading him to but he followed the directions until Shawn's commands had him turning into the driveway of a house near the beach. "Where are we?" he asked Shawn.
"Mi casa es su casa," Shawn explained in badly accented Spanish.
"Your house?"
Shawn grinned. "Don't look so worried, Carly, my folks are gone for the week. It'll just be you and me."
He led Carlton into the house, a nice homey place, and straight into the kitchen. "You want something?" Shawn asked, stopping at the fridge. He opened it and a blast of cool, refrigerated air hit Carlton's arms as he watched Shawn peer inside. "We've got juice, soda, water and...other stuff."
"Soda's fine."
Shawn grabbed two cans of soda and pointed toward the sliding glass doors that led out to the porch. "It's nicer out here," he explained. Carlton nodded and followed, watching silently as Shawn stopped to kick off his shoes before stepping out on the porch and taking a seat on the steps. There were chairs, too, but Carlton mimicked Shawn and sat beside him on the stairs.
He had to admit that Shawn was right about it being nice. The yard was well-kept and the view was of the ocean and it was almost peaceful, something he hadn't expected to ever associate with anything related to Shawn.
Shawn took a drink from his soda then set it between his bare feet. "So, Carly," he began. "What have you been up to these last few months? Just the police observer thing?"
"Mostly," he answered. "You?"
"Oh, the usual," Shawn said, leaning back on his elbows. "Graduated high school, hooked my friend up with a hottie, spent two weeks grounded for sneaking out of the house."
"Your dad found out?"
Shawn glanced over at him. "About Irvine? Nooooo. I'm still alive, aren't I? Nah, this was something different." He sighed. "It did put a damper on my plans for Mexico but we've still got the summer. I'm optimistic."
Carlton looked down at him, amused. "You do like causing trouble, don't you?"
"Who? Me? No!" Shawn feigned shock. "It's not my fault trouble follows me around."
"Yes, because you are so innocent."
Shawn grinned and bumped his shoulder against Carlton's. "Well, I was."
Carlton looked away, focusing on his shoed feet resting near Shawn's bare ones. He knew he had to be far gone because he was actually thinking about how nice the kid's toes looked. "You know this can get me in a lot of trouble, Shawn."
Shawn sighed. "You think too much about that kind of stuff, Carly."
"I have to," he argued. "If someone finds out, it could screw up my career before it's even started."
"Well, who's going tell?" Shawn wanted to know. He grabbed for his soda but he didn't drink it, instead he just rolled the frosted can between his hands. "The only way they're gonna know is if someone tells them. Well, I'm not and you're not and nobody else knows!"
"It's not that simple!"
"It could be, if you'd stop trying to make it harder than it has to be," Shawn said. "And I'm almost 18! Just a couple of more months."
"Oh, almost 18? Well that makes it okay!" Carlton rolled his eyes, voice laden with sarcasm. "Let's just forget about it then!"
"Yes!" Shawn nodded. "Exactly!"
"I was being sarcastic."
"I know but it still sounds like a plan to me!"
"That's not the answer!"
"No, but it could be a answer," Shawn told him.
"But it's not a very good one."
Shawn huffed, putting his soda down again. He stood and walked down a step or two, then spun until he was facing Carlton. He rested his hands on Carlton's tense shoulders, leaning over until they were almost forehead-to-forehead. "I don't know if you've noticed, Carly, but I'm not keeping you here." He was speaking quietly and Carlton could hear the hurt buried in his tone. "If you don't want to be here, all you got to do is leave."
He was right -- which was part of Carlton's problem; he just couldn't seem to do it -- walk out, leave, never come back. The problem was that, all issues aside, he wanted to be right where he was. "I know," he admitted, reaching up to touch Shawn's face, a thumb across his cheek.
Carlton was rewarded with another one of Shawn's incandescent smiles. "Ooooh, frosty," he joked, ducking away from the hand. "Well, that settles it! Stop your angsting and come eat! My treat," he added before he disappeared back into the house.
Shawn's treat was Chinese ordered from a place around the corner, delivered in those little white boxes right to the front door, that they ate sitting cross-legged in the living room floor. Shawn chose to eat with the provided chopsticks though he fetched Carlton a fork from the kitchen.
"So you really like this cop thing?" Shawn asked around a mouth of rice.
"Yeah, I do," Carlton replied, taking a bite from his egg roll.
"Huh," Shawn shrugged. "And here I thought you had good taste."
"I take it you're still not interested?"
"Oh hell no," Shawn told him, almost spitting rice in his exuberance. "You won't ever catch me doing anything that even resembles police work. And that include eating doughnuts."
Carlton hid his amusement behind another bite of egg roll. "So what do you want to do?"
"And isn't that question of the hour," Shawn said sourly, leaving Carlton to assume he'd been asked it enough in the last few months. "I'm not sure. My friend, he's going to UC Santa Barbara, but..."
"College isn't your thing?"
"Got it in one," he said, pointing at him with his chopsticks. "I don't know, I kinda want to try my chances in Hollywood, see if I can break into the entertainment industry."
"Doesn't everyone want to try that?" Carlton asked.
"I am not everyone, Carlton," Shawn assured him.
Carlton looked at him for a long moment. "No, you're not."
"And if that doesn't work out, I'm only a hop, skip and jump from Porn Valley. Think I got a chance there?" Shawn was rising from the floor as he spoke and he accentuated his question with a wiggle of his hips.
"I'd have some other plan if I were you," Carlton suggested.
Shawn frowned at him but it was a playful expression, plastic and coy. "You're just jealous," he announced. "Don't want to share, see me making out with all the other hot boys!"
"Like I said, keep your day job," he called out to Shawn's retreating back as he carried the leftovers into the kitchen.
"When I get one, you mean!" Shawn hollered back.
Carlton smiled and stood as well, moving to the sofa just as Shawn reappeared from the kitchen. He settled close, almost draping himself over Carlton. "So you're still here," he observed.
"Yeah."
"You thinking of leaving?"
"Not unless you're going to tell me to."
Shawn was grinning again, wrapping his arms around Carlton. "Well, as far as I'm concerned you can stay as long as you want. As long as you leave before my parents get back on Wednesday."
"That's about when I'd want to leave," he said. "I don't think that meeting would end well for any of us."
"That is, like, the understatement of the year!" Shawn laughed and Carlton couldn't help himself any longer and he kissed the smiling mouth so close to his. Shawn tightened his arms around him and started moving, scooting backward, pulling Carlton down until he stretched out over him. It had been awhile since Carlton had made out on a sofa but it didn't take him long to remember the particulars. He could tell that Shawn was frantic beneath him, urgently trying to escalate their activities but Carlton kept it teasing, despite Shawn's best efforts.
Carlton could feel Shawn's bare foot sliding against his ankle, toes slipping up under his pants leg. "Come on, Carly!" he whined, plucking at Carlton's T-shirt.
"I'm too old for making out on the couch," Carlton replied. "And too tall."
"You've been doing a bang-up job 'til now," Shawn said, wriggling. "But we could move this to a better location."
"Oh?" he pulled back and they twisted back into sitting positions, though Shawn's hands were still wandering over Carlton.
"My room," Shawn said meaningfully, watching him with half-lidded eyes. "Come on, I'll show you my guitar." He smiled, aiming to project the sultry look he'd tried on Carlton before. He failed in his guile but he was sultry nonetheless, bruised mouth and high color appealing on their own.
Carlton laughed shakily. "Why do I feel like someone just asked me to look at their etchings?"
"No idea." Shawn hopped up from the sofa, tugging Carlton to follow. "I'm not even sure what an etching is."
Carlton let himself be pulled to his feet. "Lead on."
**
They'd barely cleared the threshold of his bedroom before Shawn threw himself at Carlton again. Carlton wasn't complaining, though, and they stumbled toward the bed. Shawn was silently thankful that he'd taken the time to clear a path from the door to the bed; otherwise they'd have broken their necks trying to navigate with their concentration on each other and not their feet.
By the time they reached the bed, Shawn had lost his shirt and was working on helping Carlton lose his. The back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he went with it, pulling Carlton down with him. He came willingly and Shawn couldn't help but be giddy at the fact that this was actually happening even after he'd come to terms with the fact that it wouldn't.
It was obvious that Carlton was in no hurry, a fact which frustrated Shawn as much as it turned him on. He pulled away and looked down at Shawn with startling blue eyes. "I thought you said something about a guitar?"
"I was lying! It was just a very lame line to get you here," Shawn explained. "Let's get back to the sex."
Carlton glanced over his head at the said guitar, propped up in the corner. "But you do have one."
"Is there a reason you're trying to delay the sex?" Shawn asked, pouting. "I'm beginning to think you're not interested or something!"
"I did come for more than sex, you know," Carlton told him, looking very serious. It sent a shiver down Shawn's spine, made the giddiness well up inside him again.
"I know, I know," Shawn assured him. "But it doesn't mean it shouldn't be one of the main attractions."
Carlton was still watching him indulgently, lightly skimming a hand down Shawn's chest. "Can you play it?"
"The guitar?" he asked stupidly, distracted by Carlton's ministrations.
"Yeah."
"Not really, just a few lines of Greensleeves mostly," he admitted. "But it's a classic!"
Carlton chuckled and Shawn could feel his chest rumbling through their close proximity. It wasn't something he'd experienced before and he added it to the list of things he found to be a turn on.
His need for discussion seemed to be fulfilled because Carlton captured Shawn's mouth in another mind-numbingly spectacular kiss and Shawn was glad to move onto more important things than his inability to play his cousin's hand-me-down guitar. Shawn resumed his task of pulling off Carlton's shirt, tugging and wiggling until they rolled over in bed and he could shuck the shirt from Carlton's body. In their new position, with Carlton's body weighing down on him, Shawn wouldn't have even been about to joke about Carlton's lack of interest because he could feel it pressing against him. Shawn tightened his arms around him, running fingers over the knobs of his spine, refusing to let him pull away again.
Carlton's mouth wandered, his tongue blazing a trail from Shawn's mouth to his neck, down his chest. His hands were everywhere -- or at least it felt that way to Shawn who was, for the first time in the long time, having trouble processing everything properly. Later, he'd be able to sit and untangle it all but, for the moment, it was a jumble of stimuli that left him writhing beneath Carlton.
It helped that Carlton seemed to be gaining momentum, becoming surer and more confident with every touch. Shawn figured he had some lingering issues from the whole age thing that had had him so serious when he'd first arrived but whatever concerns he'd had seemed to have slipped away and Shawn certainly wasn't complaining. It was insanely sexy to have Carlton take control and somewhere in the back of his mind that was still functioning, he added that to the other kinks he'd identified since he'd met Carlton.
Since he and Carlton were finally on the right track -- fast, now, quickly -- Shawn hated to break the rhythm by opening his mouth but as Carlton reached for his jeans, he knew he needed to have this particular conversation sooner rather than later if the evening was going to go the way he wanted.
He just wasn't sure how to say it.
"As much as I hate to start talking," Shawn said between kisses, voice strange-sounding to his ears, "because I might not get you to stop again, there's something I gotta say."
Carlton pulled back, looking down into his face, pupils almost completely dilated. "What?"
Shawn almost lost his train of thought at the rough, growling quality of Carlton's voice but he held on admirably. But now that he had Carlton's undivided attention, he still wasn't sure how to ask. The thoughts of what he wanted to say ran through his head and it made his already fast-paced heart race even more. "I...well, I was...uh..."
"Something wrong?" His voice was still gruff but concerned and that fact nearly derailed his thought once again.
"I was just..." Shawn took a deep breath and tried to shake off the uncharacteristic nervousness. "Well, as much as I liked what we did last time -- and I really, really liked it -- I was just thinking that maybe..."
"Maybe...?"
"We could try something different."
There was a strange hitch in Carlton's breathing. "Like?"
Shawn tried to think of a tactful, adult, and sexy way to ask the question. They all sounded stupid in his head, so he gave up. "Oh, hell..."
Shawn shrugged Carlton off of him and reached out down to the edge of the bed, fishing around for something. Without a word, he tossed the tube of Astroglide up on the bed between them.
"Well?"
Carlton was looking between Shawn's face and the Astroglide. "Is this supposed to be a clue?"
Shawn knew his face had to be as red as a tomato. He looked down, suddenly fascinated with the sheets. "I was hoping that some of those college-educated brain cells you have could connect the dots."
"I have." A pause. "I know you haven't done this before."
Shawn was still looking in fascination at his sheets. "Well, I have," he said defensively. "Kinda."
He couldn't see Carlton's face but he could hear the incredulity in his voice -- and maybe a little jealousy? "Define 'kinda' for me."
Shawn was almost positive that he couldn't die from embarrassment but he felt like he was testing that hypothesis. He was squirming as he answered, remembering the strangely arousing and embarrassing explorations he'd tried in the shower. "I...kinda...tried. Myself. On myself."
Carlton must've gotten tired of staring at the top of his bed because he pushed the tube aside and grabbed Shawn, kissing him with a kind of ferocity that instantly brought back the buzz he'd lost thanks to his thoroughly embarrassing confession. Carlton, on the other hand, seemed more turned on and not less.
"We can do this," Carlton said, after a moment, once he'd reclaimed his tongue. "If---"
"You ask me if I'm sure, I swear I'm gonna beat the shit out of you, Carly," Shawn warned, shaky and scared and excited -- all of which was evident in his voice.
Something in Carlton's face softened, turned affectionate. He ran his thumb over the swollen line of Shawn's bottom lip. "Like you could if you tried."
"Oh, I so could!"
Carlton gave him a quick, hard kiss. "How about we talk about that later?"
Shawn grinned, nodding. "Sure, if you've got some plans for now."
Carlton grabbed the Astroglide and laid it up near Shawn's head -- in easy reach. "I do," he assured him, bringing his hands to Shawn's fly, deftly unzipping his jeans. He started to slide the jeans down Shawn's hips and Shawn lifted his ass a little to help.
"It's looking like a good plan to me," Shawn murmured.
"It works," Carlton replied, his hands peeling the denim from Shawn's legs, the heavy material sticky with sweat. "But you're going to have to shut up."
Shawn decided he liked that, being ordered around -- especially when Carlton was using that growly, roughened voice. He almost opened his mouth to speak but decided on a grin instead, simply nodding his assent.
Carlton smiled back, a smile that said wicked things to every inch of Shawn's body, then resumed trailing his mouth down Shawn's chest and stomach, heading even lower now that his path was no longer impeded by clothes.
As his breath caught on the moan bubbling out of his throat, Shawn decided that they'd probably test another hypothesis before the night was over.
He didn't think he could die from too much good sex, but he was willing to try it and see.
To Be Continued...
Author: Regann
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter
Rating: PG-13/R
Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I just play with them.
Notes: This is a long multipart fic that I had to be insane to even start. But I love the boys so much, I just had to! Oh, and this is dedicated to pookaseraph. Also, please note that I will be moving to a Tues/Thurs update schedule starting next week.
Chapter Warning: This is one of the chapters that is rated R for sexual situations.
Summary: 17-year-old Shawn has a fake ID burning a hole in his pocket, a college party to crash, and a mission to stop being the only virgin in his senior class. Unfortunately, there's this big-earred, good-doing grad student by the name of Carlton who catches him in the act. The unfair nature of cosmic humor being what it is, thus begins something that'll come back to haunt them both ten years later -- when an adult Shawn Spencer decides to give psychic investigation a try.
Past Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Right Place, Wrong Time (Part 7)
Though his thoughts were beginning to sound like a broken record, Carlton wasn't sure how things with Shawn had escalated to where they stood at that moment.
It had taken some considerable willpower -- and the fear of being caught by a stray picnicker -- to pry himself away from Shawn but he'd managed it; Carlton considered it a small victory. Shawn had pouted and whined but Carlton had been able to resist and had driven to a local arcade where Shawn said his friend was waiting for him. Of course, Shawn being Shawn, it took a considerable effort to finally get him out of the car, but once again Carlton had managed.
Not that Shawn was easily deterred; in exchange for not doing a number of very embarrassing things in public, Carlton had had to agree to meet him the next day and he wasn't sure how he felt about that, either.
Actually he was sure: it just depended on where he was when he did the thinking.
When Carlton was alone, somewhere he could be logical and cool-headed, he could see what a mistake he'd be making even seeing Shawn again, let alone continuing with whatever they had -- it was reckless, dangerous, illegal. The voice in his head that sometimes sounded like his mother -- and wasn't that a terrible thing to be cursed with? -- berated him for every thought, feeling or idea he had connected with Shawn, reminded him over and over what he was putting in jeopardy when he did.
But when he was around Shawn, everything that made sense flew out of the window. It was maddening -- Shawn was maddening. When he had the kid there with him, it seemed to be perfectly okay to pin him down in his car and make out with him parked in a mostly-deserted lot where any number of his co-workers might've seen them. It even made sense to agree to Shawn's request to see him again, even when it was obvious from the flinty look in his eyes that Shawn wanted nothing more than them sweaty and naked on some flat surface.
Which was illegal, he kept reminding himself. Illegal, illegal, illegal.
It struck him, as he found himself driving toward the designated meeting spot, that he was very, very weak.
Carlton was going to have to figure it out and soon. He couldn't keep up oscillating from one decision to the other, torn up with guilt half the time and want the other. He either had to admit to himself that he was doing this and stick with it or he needed to pull the plug before it went any further.
He'd decided to give himself the weekend to make that decision. A weekend of thinking, of deliberation -- of Shawn.
Their designated meeting place was the same arcade where he'd left Shawn the night before and, as if he hadn't moved from the spot in nineteen hours, Shawn was loitering on the sidewalk when he pulled up to the curb.
Carlton had barely slowed down before Shawn was scrambling into the passenger seat. "Onward ho, Carly!" he ordered, pointing directly ahead. "And take the next left!"
He wasn't sure where Shawn was leading him to but he followed the directions until Shawn's commands had him turning into the driveway of a house near the beach. "Where are we?" he asked Shawn.
"Mi casa es su casa," Shawn explained in badly accented Spanish.
"Your house?"
Shawn grinned. "Don't look so worried, Carly, my folks are gone for the week. It'll just be you and me."
He led Carlton into the house, a nice homey place, and straight into the kitchen. "You want something?" Shawn asked, stopping at the fridge. He opened it and a blast of cool, refrigerated air hit Carlton's arms as he watched Shawn peer inside. "We've got juice, soda, water and...other stuff."
"Soda's fine."
Shawn grabbed two cans of soda and pointed toward the sliding glass doors that led out to the porch. "It's nicer out here," he explained. Carlton nodded and followed, watching silently as Shawn stopped to kick off his shoes before stepping out on the porch and taking a seat on the steps. There were chairs, too, but Carlton mimicked Shawn and sat beside him on the stairs.
He had to admit that Shawn was right about it being nice. The yard was well-kept and the view was of the ocean and it was almost peaceful, something he hadn't expected to ever associate with anything related to Shawn.
Shawn took a drink from his soda then set it between his bare feet. "So, Carly," he began. "What have you been up to these last few months? Just the police observer thing?"
"Mostly," he answered. "You?"
"Oh, the usual," Shawn said, leaning back on his elbows. "Graduated high school, hooked my friend up with a hottie, spent two weeks grounded for sneaking out of the house."
"Your dad found out?"
Shawn glanced over at him. "About Irvine? Nooooo. I'm still alive, aren't I? Nah, this was something different." He sighed. "It did put a damper on my plans for Mexico but we've still got the summer. I'm optimistic."
Carlton looked down at him, amused. "You do like causing trouble, don't you?"
"Who? Me? No!" Shawn feigned shock. "It's not my fault trouble follows me around."
"Yes, because you are so innocent."
Shawn grinned and bumped his shoulder against Carlton's. "Well, I was."
Carlton looked away, focusing on his shoed feet resting near Shawn's bare ones. He knew he had to be far gone because he was actually thinking about how nice the kid's toes looked. "You know this can get me in a lot of trouble, Shawn."
Shawn sighed. "You think too much about that kind of stuff, Carly."
"I have to," he argued. "If someone finds out, it could screw up my career before it's even started."
"Well, who's going tell?" Shawn wanted to know. He grabbed for his soda but he didn't drink it, instead he just rolled the frosted can between his hands. "The only way they're gonna know is if someone tells them. Well, I'm not and you're not and nobody else knows!"
"It's not that simple!"
"It could be, if you'd stop trying to make it harder than it has to be," Shawn said. "And I'm almost 18! Just a couple of more months."
"Oh, almost 18? Well that makes it okay!" Carlton rolled his eyes, voice laden with sarcasm. "Let's just forget about it then!"
"Yes!" Shawn nodded. "Exactly!"
"I was being sarcastic."
"I know but it still sounds like a plan to me!"
"That's not the answer!"
"No, but it could be a answer," Shawn told him.
"But it's not a very good one."
Shawn huffed, putting his soda down again. He stood and walked down a step or two, then spun until he was facing Carlton. He rested his hands on Carlton's tense shoulders, leaning over until they were almost forehead-to-forehead. "I don't know if you've noticed, Carly, but I'm not keeping you here." He was speaking quietly and Carlton could hear the hurt buried in his tone. "If you don't want to be here, all you got to do is leave."
He was right -- which was part of Carlton's problem; he just couldn't seem to do it -- walk out, leave, never come back. The problem was that, all issues aside, he wanted to be right where he was. "I know," he admitted, reaching up to touch Shawn's face, a thumb across his cheek.
Carlton was rewarded with another one of Shawn's incandescent smiles. "Ooooh, frosty," he joked, ducking away from the hand. "Well, that settles it! Stop your angsting and come eat! My treat," he added before he disappeared back into the house.
Shawn's treat was Chinese ordered from a place around the corner, delivered in those little white boxes right to the front door, that they ate sitting cross-legged in the living room floor. Shawn chose to eat with the provided chopsticks though he fetched Carlton a fork from the kitchen.
"So you really like this cop thing?" Shawn asked around a mouth of rice.
"Yeah, I do," Carlton replied, taking a bite from his egg roll.
"Huh," Shawn shrugged. "And here I thought you had good taste."
"I take it you're still not interested?"
"Oh hell no," Shawn told him, almost spitting rice in his exuberance. "You won't ever catch me doing anything that even resembles police work. And that include eating doughnuts."
Carlton hid his amusement behind another bite of egg roll. "So what do you want to do?"
"And isn't that question of the hour," Shawn said sourly, leaving Carlton to assume he'd been asked it enough in the last few months. "I'm not sure. My friend, he's going to UC Santa Barbara, but..."
"College isn't your thing?"
"Got it in one," he said, pointing at him with his chopsticks. "I don't know, I kinda want to try my chances in Hollywood, see if I can break into the entertainment industry."
"Doesn't everyone want to try that?" Carlton asked.
"I am not everyone, Carlton," Shawn assured him.
Carlton looked at him for a long moment. "No, you're not."
"And if that doesn't work out, I'm only a hop, skip and jump from Porn Valley. Think I got a chance there?" Shawn was rising from the floor as he spoke and he accentuated his question with a wiggle of his hips.
"I'd have some other plan if I were you," Carlton suggested.
Shawn frowned at him but it was a playful expression, plastic and coy. "You're just jealous," he announced. "Don't want to share, see me making out with all the other hot boys!"
"Like I said, keep your day job," he called out to Shawn's retreating back as he carried the leftovers into the kitchen.
"When I get one, you mean!" Shawn hollered back.
Carlton smiled and stood as well, moving to the sofa just as Shawn reappeared from the kitchen. He settled close, almost draping himself over Carlton. "So you're still here," he observed.
"Yeah."
"You thinking of leaving?"
"Not unless you're going to tell me to."
Shawn was grinning again, wrapping his arms around Carlton. "Well, as far as I'm concerned you can stay as long as you want. As long as you leave before my parents get back on Wednesday."
"That's about when I'd want to leave," he said. "I don't think that meeting would end well for any of us."
"That is, like, the understatement of the year!" Shawn laughed and Carlton couldn't help himself any longer and he kissed the smiling mouth so close to his. Shawn tightened his arms around him and started moving, scooting backward, pulling Carlton down until he stretched out over him. It had been awhile since Carlton had made out on a sofa but it didn't take him long to remember the particulars. He could tell that Shawn was frantic beneath him, urgently trying to escalate their activities but Carlton kept it teasing, despite Shawn's best efforts.
Carlton could feel Shawn's bare foot sliding against his ankle, toes slipping up under his pants leg. "Come on, Carly!" he whined, plucking at Carlton's T-shirt.
"I'm too old for making out on the couch," Carlton replied. "And too tall."
"You've been doing a bang-up job 'til now," Shawn said, wriggling. "But we could move this to a better location."
"Oh?" he pulled back and they twisted back into sitting positions, though Shawn's hands were still wandering over Carlton.
"My room," Shawn said meaningfully, watching him with half-lidded eyes. "Come on, I'll show you my guitar." He smiled, aiming to project the sultry look he'd tried on Carlton before. He failed in his guile but he was sultry nonetheless, bruised mouth and high color appealing on their own.
Carlton laughed shakily. "Why do I feel like someone just asked me to look at their etchings?"
"No idea." Shawn hopped up from the sofa, tugging Carlton to follow. "I'm not even sure what an etching is."
Carlton let himself be pulled to his feet. "Lead on."
**
They'd barely cleared the threshold of his bedroom before Shawn threw himself at Carlton again. Carlton wasn't complaining, though, and they stumbled toward the bed. Shawn was silently thankful that he'd taken the time to clear a path from the door to the bed; otherwise they'd have broken their necks trying to navigate with their concentration on each other and not their feet.
By the time they reached the bed, Shawn had lost his shirt and was working on helping Carlton lose his. The back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he went with it, pulling Carlton down with him. He came willingly and Shawn couldn't help but be giddy at the fact that this was actually happening even after he'd come to terms with the fact that it wouldn't.
It was obvious that Carlton was in no hurry, a fact which frustrated Shawn as much as it turned him on. He pulled away and looked down at Shawn with startling blue eyes. "I thought you said something about a guitar?"
"I was lying! It was just a very lame line to get you here," Shawn explained. "Let's get back to the sex."
Carlton glanced over his head at the said guitar, propped up in the corner. "But you do have one."
"Is there a reason you're trying to delay the sex?" Shawn asked, pouting. "I'm beginning to think you're not interested or something!"
"I did come for more than sex, you know," Carlton told him, looking very serious. It sent a shiver down Shawn's spine, made the giddiness well up inside him again.
"I know, I know," Shawn assured him. "But it doesn't mean it shouldn't be one of the main attractions."
Carlton was still watching him indulgently, lightly skimming a hand down Shawn's chest. "Can you play it?"
"The guitar?" he asked stupidly, distracted by Carlton's ministrations.
"Yeah."
"Not really, just a few lines of Greensleeves mostly," he admitted. "But it's a classic!"
Carlton chuckled and Shawn could feel his chest rumbling through their close proximity. It wasn't something he'd experienced before and he added it to the list of things he found to be a turn on.
His need for discussion seemed to be fulfilled because Carlton captured Shawn's mouth in another mind-numbingly spectacular kiss and Shawn was glad to move onto more important things than his inability to play his cousin's hand-me-down guitar. Shawn resumed his task of pulling off Carlton's shirt, tugging and wiggling until they rolled over in bed and he could shuck the shirt from Carlton's body. In their new position, with Carlton's body weighing down on him, Shawn wouldn't have even been about to joke about Carlton's lack of interest because he could feel it pressing against him. Shawn tightened his arms around him, running fingers over the knobs of his spine, refusing to let him pull away again.
Carlton's mouth wandered, his tongue blazing a trail from Shawn's mouth to his neck, down his chest. His hands were everywhere -- or at least it felt that way to Shawn who was, for the first time in the long time, having trouble processing everything properly. Later, he'd be able to sit and untangle it all but, for the moment, it was a jumble of stimuli that left him writhing beneath Carlton.
It helped that Carlton seemed to be gaining momentum, becoming surer and more confident with every touch. Shawn figured he had some lingering issues from the whole age thing that had had him so serious when he'd first arrived but whatever concerns he'd had seemed to have slipped away and Shawn certainly wasn't complaining. It was insanely sexy to have Carlton take control and somewhere in the back of his mind that was still functioning, he added that to the other kinks he'd identified since he'd met Carlton.
Since he and Carlton were finally on the right track -- fast, now, quickly -- Shawn hated to break the rhythm by opening his mouth but as Carlton reached for his jeans, he knew he needed to have this particular conversation sooner rather than later if the evening was going to go the way he wanted.
He just wasn't sure how to say it.
"As much as I hate to start talking," Shawn said between kisses, voice strange-sounding to his ears, "because I might not get you to stop again, there's something I gotta say."
Carlton pulled back, looking down into his face, pupils almost completely dilated. "What?"
Shawn almost lost his train of thought at the rough, growling quality of Carlton's voice but he held on admirably. But now that he had Carlton's undivided attention, he still wasn't sure how to ask. The thoughts of what he wanted to say ran through his head and it made his already fast-paced heart race even more. "I...well, I was...uh..."
"Something wrong?" His voice was still gruff but concerned and that fact nearly derailed his thought once again.
"I was just..." Shawn took a deep breath and tried to shake off the uncharacteristic nervousness. "Well, as much as I liked what we did last time -- and I really, really liked it -- I was just thinking that maybe..."
"Maybe...?"
"We could try something different."
There was a strange hitch in Carlton's breathing. "Like?"
Shawn tried to think of a tactful, adult, and sexy way to ask the question. They all sounded stupid in his head, so he gave up. "Oh, hell..."
Shawn shrugged Carlton off of him and reached out down to the edge of the bed, fishing around for something. Without a word, he tossed the tube of Astroglide up on the bed between them.
"Well?"
Carlton was looking between Shawn's face and the Astroglide. "Is this supposed to be a clue?"
Shawn knew his face had to be as red as a tomato. He looked down, suddenly fascinated with the sheets. "I was hoping that some of those college-educated brain cells you have could connect the dots."
"I have." A pause. "I know you haven't done this before."
Shawn was still looking in fascination at his sheets. "Well, I have," he said defensively. "Kinda."
He couldn't see Carlton's face but he could hear the incredulity in his voice -- and maybe a little jealousy? "Define 'kinda' for me."
Shawn was almost positive that he couldn't die from embarrassment but he felt like he was testing that hypothesis. He was squirming as he answered, remembering the strangely arousing and embarrassing explorations he'd tried in the shower. "I...kinda...tried. Myself. On myself."
Carlton must've gotten tired of staring at the top of his bed because he pushed the tube aside and grabbed Shawn, kissing him with a kind of ferocity that instantly brought back the buzz he'd lost thanks to his thoroughly embarrassing confession. Carlton, on the other hand, seemed more turned on and not less.
"We can do this," Carlton said, after a moment, once he'd reclaimed his tongue. "If---"
"You ask me if I'm sure, I swear I'm gonna beat the shit out of you, Carly," Shawn warned, shaky and scared and excited -- all of which was evident in his voice.
Something in Carlton's face softened, turned affectionate. He ran his thumb over the swollen line of Shawn's bottom lip. "Like you could if you tried."
"Oh, I so could!"
Carlton gave him a quick, hard kiss. "How about we talk about that later?"
Shawn grinned, nodding. "Sure, if you've got some plans for now."
Carlton grabbed the Astroglide and laid it up near Shawn's head -- in easy reach. "I do," he assured him, bringing his hands to Shawn's fly, deftly unzipping his jeans. He started to slide the jeans down Shawn's hips and Shawn lifted his ass a little to help.
"It's looking like a good plan to me," Shawn murmured.
"It works," Carlton replied, his hands peeling the denim from Shawn's legs, the heavy material sticky with sweat. "But you're going to have to shut up."
Shawn decided he liked that, being ordered around -- especially when Carlton was using that growly, roughened voice. He almost opened his mouth to speak but decided on a grin instead, simply nodding his assent.
Carlton smiled back, a smile that said wicked things to every inch of Shawn's body, then resumed trailing his mouth down Shawn's chest and stomach, heading even lower now that his path was no longer impeded by clothes.
As his breath caught on the moan bubbling out of his throat, Shawn decided that they'd probably test another hypothesis before the night was over.
He didn't think he could die from too much good sex, but he was willing to try it and see.
To Be Continued...