Keep Him Hanging Around, pt. 1/2
Master Fic List
TITLE: Keep Him Hanging Around 1/2
RATING: T/PG-13ish
CHARACTERS: Shawn/Carlton; brief appearances by others (and maybe some implied Gus/Juliet)
WORD COUNT: approx. 2,600 (3,500 total)
WARNINGS: A few bad words.
SUMMARY: 3x11 Episode Tag. Carlton's place is a crime scene. Shawn needs a ride home.
AO3 Link
Disclaimer: I didn't even get the DVDs for Christmas *sigh* So, honestly, I own nothing.
Author's Notes: I'm not entirely happy with this...but it was one of those fics that made me write it and now I'm sharing it with whoever would like to read it. Mostly I was just wanting a little hurt/comfort after "Lassie Did A Bad Bad Thing". So there's some hurt!Shawn with a smattering of Lassie!angst...but not much of a "plotline".
For the purposes of the fic, assume Shawn and Carlton are in a semi-established relationship.
No smut, but a "morning after" smut scene may follow if the muse demands it and people don't totally hate this first part. We'll see what happens. Link to smutty "morning after" at the end of this part.
Lots and lots of thanks to nemesishamartia for the beta work! Things make more sense than they did to begin with. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
-----------------------------
Carlton stared across the front lawn of his building. He’d spent the past half hour giving the same statement twice (with the understanding he’d also report to the station in the morning to write it in his own hand). All he really wanted to do at that point was curl up with a bottle of scotch and ignore the rest of the world for a good eight hours or so.
The head detective (and it felt incredible to have that badge in his pocket again) found himself staring at the first ambulance. Henry Spencer was standing next to it; busy lecturing Officer McNab on the proper way to transport a criminal. Carlton couldn’t help but smile slightly at the rapt attention Buzz was giving the older man. As much as he hated to admit it, Carlton had been there himself (once upon a time).
Carlton’s gaze shifted to the second ambulance and his smile immediately disappeared. He was headed down the lawn before he fully realized it, rounding the back of it to find Shawn being looked over by a paramedic Carlton vaguely recognized.
Shawn was sitting upright at the back of the vehicle, his feet resting on the pavement. One hand was up, holding an icepack to the back of his head. The other arm was stretched out, giving the medic access to monitor a blood pressure cuff.
Shawn was staring straight ahead, his eyes on Carlton. Carlton saw the glazed look and knew the younger man probably wasn’t actually seeing him.
“How are you holding up, Spencer?” Carlton asked. Shawn jerked and blinked blearily at him.
“Lassie?” Shawn rasped, sounding confused. Carlton shared a frown with the paramedic (Wallace, he remembered). “Are you hurt?” Shawn started to get agitated, dropping the icepack to reach out toward Carlton.
Carlton remembered the grip Shawn had placed on his shoulder earlier that evening, even though it’d been brief. Shawn didn’t get scared often (at least not that he honestly let show) but when he did, Carlton had learned he needed touch to calm him.
Carlton stepped forward quickly, taking hold of the outstretched hand while also reaching around to pick up the icepack. Shawn winced when Carlton touched it to the back of his head, but seemed to relax a bit at his touch.
“I’m fine, Spencer,” Carlton promised, watching as Wallace pulled the cuff from Shawn’s other arm. “What about you?” Carlton directed the question more toward the paramedic; Shawn answered anyway.
“Just a weensy bump on the noggin,” Shawn said, sounding nearly normal. He tried to stand, but only ended up swaying into Carlton.
“Whoa,” Carlton muttered before pushing Shawn back on his butt.
“It’s probably just a mild concussion,” Wallace said, turning to pack away his equipment. “But he should go to the hospital and get more thoroughly looked over to be sure.” Shawn shook his head then groaned as he closed his eyes.
“Not going,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Shawn…” Carlton began. The injured man blinked up at him.
“I’m fine, Carlton,” Shawn said in a surprisingly clear voice. It didn’t make Carlton’s frown disappear. “Don’t even think of declaring me incompetent.”
Carlton rolled his eyes and looked at Wallace. The paramedic held out his hands in a gesture of innocence.
“I already tried,” he said. “It really does just look like a mild concussion. Someone just needs to monitor him the next twenty-four hours; make him take it easy the next few days.” Carlton sighed; he knew the routine.
“Looks like I gotta bunk with you anyway, Spencer,” Carlton said. “My place is still a crime scene.” Shawn grinned and tugged Carlton closer.
“You need an excuse now?” he teased.
Carlton fought the urge to blush as he glanced awkwardly at Wallace. The paramedic was busying himself with his equipment again, though Carlton noticed a slight smirk on his face.
Carlton cleared his throat and disentangled himself from Shawn’s wandering freehand.
“Just figured Henry would appreciate having his own space back.” Carlton looked over his shoulder as the other ambulance pulled away, siren blaring. Carlton looked back at Shawn and tried not to smile. “Of course, if you’d rather spend the next few days with your father…” Shawn glared up at him. Carlton gave up on the serious look.
Shawn dropped Carlton’s hand suddenly. Carlton looked over his own shoulder again to see Henry walking their way.
Henry gave a nod of acknowledgement to the detective before focusing his attention on his son.
“How’s the head?” he asked. Shawn shot a warning glare at Carlton before he could answer.
“It’s fine,” Shawn said. “Detective Lassiter’s going to give me a ride home.”
Carlton looked between the two men and frowned. Shawn never liked to talk about his relationship with his father and Carlton had always wondered why the tension between them existed. From where he stood, Henry wasn’t a bad father.
“Where’d Gus run off to? I thought he was going to stay with you…” Shawn rolled his eyes at his father.
“He followed Jules off somewhere,” Shawn said, waving a hand vaguely in the air. Henry looked ready to say something else, but Shawn cut him off. “I told him to go. It wasn’t like I was alone.”
Shawn slid to his feet. Carlton was ready to catch him again, but Shawn held (relatively) steady. He took the icepack from Carlton, letting out a few muttered curses as he pressed it to his bruised cheek.
“Ready to go Lassie?” he asked. “Or do you need to fetch your hi-fi first?” Carlton barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes again; he was never going to hear the end of that one.
Henry met Carlton’s eyes. “Sure you don’t mind?” Henry asked.
Carlton could see the father, wanting to take care of his son. But he also knew the Spencer men well enough to know that (despite good intentions) an argument would arise somewhere along the way. Shawn’s concussion really didn’t need the added headache. And, on a selfish level, Carlton wanted to keep the younger Spencer close.
“Not a problem, Henry,” Carlton said. Henry hesitated a moment before nodding.
“Give me a call tomorrow?” he asked his son.
“Sure, Dad,” Shawn agreed. Carlton knew Shawn would probably surprise Henry by letting his father cook dinner for him the next day. (He also knew Henry was probably already planning what to cook.)
“Take it easy kid; Carlton.”
“You done with me?” Shawn asked Wallace as Henry walked away.
“Yeah. I’ve got your signature,” the paramedic said, indicating a nearby clipboard. Carlton figured that meant Shawn had already signed the form refusing further medical attention.
“You know what to watch for?” Wallace directed toward Carlton.
“Yeah,” Carlton confirmed. “I've had a couple of these before. Though with Shawn it might be kind of hard to tell the difference.” The paramedic chuckled as Shawn half-heartedly glared at Carlton. “Come on Spencer. Let’s get you out of Wallace’s hair.”
Shawn staggered on their way to Carlton’s car. Carlton caught him with an arm around Shawn’s waist.
“What’s this Lassikins? Finally comfortable with a little PDA?” Shawn asked with a grin. Carlton rolled his eyes.
“Just trying to keep you from taking a face-plant,” he muttered.
“Such a romantic.” Shawn tripped on the curb. Carlton sighed and pulled him closer.
“You gonna make it?” The car really wasn’t that far away, but Carlton had noticed he was supporting more and more of Shawn’s weight.
“No promises, Lassie.”
Carlton frowned but continued to pull Shawn along with him.
“Guster still working on O’Hara?” Carlton asked as he spotted Shawn’s friend standing next to the forensics van. He could see Juliet busy talking to one of the investigators.
Shawn chuckled lightly. Carlton propped him against the car so he could dig in his pockets for his keys.
“Yeah. Jules likes the attention; such a tease,” Shawn replied with affection.
“Watch it,” Carlton warned without any real heat. “She’s my partner again.” Shawn smiled and patted Carlton’s hand before he sank into the waiting passenger seat.
“Yes dear.” Carlton groaned before rounding the car to get behind the wheel.
Shawn didn’t speak again until Carlton was unlocking the door to his apartment.
“I thought your apartment was a crime scene,” Shawn said with a frown. Carlton raised an eyebrow.
“It is,” he confirmed slowly. “This is your place.” Shawn looked inside as Carlton pushed the door open.
“When did I give you a key? I thought I was waiting until your birthday.” Carlton’s eyes widened as Shawn swayed past him and into the cramped apartment. He hadn’t really been expecting that.
“Y-you handed me your keys downstairs,” Carlton stammered. He stepped forward quickly and managed to catch Shawn before he tripped over the coffee table.
“Oh yeah," Shawn said, looking embarrassed. "Forget about your birthday present then: it's a surprise." Carlton frowned as he watched Shawn's face. Shawn began to fidget impatiently. Carlton regained Shawn's attention by letting go of his arm.
"I'll 'forget' on one condition," Carlton said. Shawn eyed him suspiciously.
"I'm not going to like it, am I?"
"Tomorrow we go to the doctor."
Shawn frowned. "Lassie, I'm fine."
"You don't remember handing me your keys!" Carlton argued.
"Yes I do!" Shawn insisted. "You started groping me when we got out of the car and you said 'Spencer, where the hell are your keys?' in your grumpy voice and then I pointed to my pocket like so," Shawn demonstrated, pointing to his left front pocket. "And you said 'you're going to make me pull them out, aren't you?' and I grinned and nodded and your hand lingered for longer than was strictly necessary!"
Carlton blushed a bit, but was unwilling to concede the point to Shawn.
"But you did forget Shawn!" Carlton insisted. He sighed. "Just...a quick visit tomorrow. I'd rather not drag you down there if I don't have to." Carlton's eyes narrowed. "But don't think I'll hesitate to do so if you fight me on this."
Shawn regarded Carlton for a long moment. Carlton recognized the look of Shawn trying to determine just how stubborn he wanted to be.
"You'll forget about your birthday present?" Shawn asked. Carlton smiled.
"What birthday present?" Carlton slid an arm around Shawn's waist to lead him toward the bedroom.
"And we'll get pineapple smoothies afterward?" Carlton rolled his eyes as he fumbled for the light switch.
"Sure thing Shawn."
Shawn grinned and stood as still as he could manage in the middle of the bedroom as Carlton moved in front of him. Carlton took the lack of further argument as agreement and tried not to make his relief too noticeable.
“Lift your arms,” Carlton instructed as he took hold of the hem of Shawn’s shirt. Shawn lifted his arms and promptly wrapped them behind Carlton’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Carlton closed his eyes and leaned into it, his own arms sliding around Shawn’s waist. He’d needed this kiss all night to prove to himself that Shawn was alive, if only to assure himself Shawn was capable of breathing against him.
Shawn broke the kiss and Carlton blinked in confusion as the younger man went down on his knees.
“What are you doing Shawn?” Carlton croaked as Shawn began to fumble with his belt.
“Being thwarted by a buckle,” Shawn grumbled, a look of fierce concentration on his face. (It looked a lot like pain.) Carlton rolled his eyes and grabbed onto Shawn’s shoulders, pulling him to his unsteady feet.
“As much as I’d like you to win that battle,” Carlton grunted as he pushed Shawn to sit at the foot of the bed. “I don’t really think you seeing double right now is going to produce the best results.” Shawn pouted as Carlton bent down to untie his sneakers.
“But I want you to stay,” Shawn practically whined. The plaint made Carlton pause for a moment before he stood again with a frown.
“Lift your arms,” he said again, pulling at Shawn’s shirt. “I’m not going anywhere tonight,” Carlton promised. Shawn was watching him with wide eyes when the shirt was finally past his head. Carlton tossed the shirt in the direction of Shawn’s hamper.
“You’ll stay?” Shawn whispered. Carlton looked down at him for a few seconds before sighing. He placed a light kiss on Shawn’s forehead before moving away to pull off his jacket and step out of his own shoes.
“Just get under the covers, Shawn,” Carlton said gently. Shawn did so, though he kept an eye on the older man as Carlton stripped down to his boxers. After carefully setting his clothes on the chair in the corner, Carlton hit the light switch and moved back to the bed. He could feel Shawn’s eyes on him as he slid next to him under the blankets.
“Shit,” Carlton muttered, moving back toward the edge of the bed. “Do you need some Tylenol or aspirin or something?” he asked in concern. Shawn’s hand grabbed his arm before he got out of the bed.
“Wally the Medic gave me something,” Shawn said. He tugged on Carlton’s arm until Carlton was lying down again.
Carlton couldn’t help but smile as Shawn wrapped himself around him. He’d never been surprised that Shawn was an octopus in bed. It was just essentially Shawn. Carlton rested his arms around him as Shawn settled with a sigh, his head on Carlton’s chest.
“Comfy?” Carlton asked.
“Mmm,” was the only reply he received. Carlton chuckled.
“Sleep, Shawn,” Carlton ordered softly. “I have to wake you up in a couple of hours.” Shawn groaned and buried his face against Carlton. Carlton smiled as he stroked a hand lightly down Shawn’s back. It wasn’t long before he felt the younger man drop off to sleep.
Shawn was warm against him and Carlton pulled him just a little closer. The past couple of days were suddenly catching up with him.
He couldn’t believe he’d been angry with Shawn when he’d first walked into his apartment. What if those had been his last words to him? Yelling at him for breaking in and putting his feet up on the coffee table? Carlton closed his eyes and pressed his face into the soft comfort of Shawn’s hair.
Shawn was planning to give him a key and Carlton had been pissed at him for just walking into his apartment. Carlton didn’t need anyone to tell him there was an imbalance in the level of trust they had in one another.
Carlton was responsible for pissing Drimmer off and putting Shawn in danger. Beyond that even, it’d been Carlton who’d pursued the relationship with Shawn in the first place. He’d initiated a relationship that would very probably end up with one (or both) of them dead on the job. (It'd been a major argument with his ex-wife, and Carlton suddenly found himself highly sympathetic with her side of things.)
Carlton was well aware if Shawn hadn’t convinced him to hide that last gun in a bowl of peanuts, the fake psychic would be cold and dead and not wrapped comfortably around him.
“Stop thinking, Lassie,” Shawn murmured against his skin. Carlton’s eyes popped open. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“I think Drimmer gave you a headache,” Carlton said bitterly. Shawn had already fallen back asleep.
Carlton took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Shawn was safe and Carlton couldn’t change what had already happened.
Though maybe he could dig up a spare key for him.
Carlton smiled in the dark and let go of Shawn long enough to snag the alarm clock off the nightstand. In just two hours it’d be his turn to prove to Shawn he could be just as obnoxious as the best of them.
What was that song Shawn hated…?
TBC in Part 2
TITLE: Keep Him Hanging Around 1/2
RATING: T/PG-13ish
CHARACTERS: Shawn/Carlton; brief appearances by others (and maybe some implied Gus/Juliet)
WORD COUNT: approx. 2,600 (3,500 total)
WARNINGS: A few bad words.
SUMMARY: 3x11 Episode Tag. Carlton's place is a crime scene. Shawn needs a ride home.
AO3 Link
Disclaimer: I didn't even get the DVDs for Christmas *sigh* So, honestly, I own nothing.
Author's Notes: I'm not entirely happy with this...but it was one of those fics that made me write it and now I'm sharing it with whoever would like to read it. Mostly I was just wanting a little hurt/comfort after "Lassie Did A Bad Bad Thing". So there's some hurt!Shawn with a smattering of Lassie!angst...but not much of a "plotline".
For the purposes of the fic, assume Shawn and Carlton are in a semi-established relationship.
No smut, but a "morning after" smut scene may follow if the muse demands it and people don't totally hate this first part. We'll see what happens. Link to smutty "morning after" at the end of this part.
Lots and lots of thanks to nemesishamartia for the beta work! Things make more sense than they did to begin with. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
-----------------------------
Carlton stared across the front lawn of his building. He’d spent the past half hour giving the same statement twice (with the understanding he’d also report to the station in the morning to write it in his own hand). All he really wanted to do at that point was curl up with a bottle of scotch and ignore the rest of the world for a good eight hours or so.
The head detective (and it felt incredible to have that badge in his pocket again) found himself staring at the first ambulance. Henry Spencer was standing next to it; busy lecturing Officer McNab on the proper way to transport a criminal. Carlton couldn’t help but smile slightly at the rapt attention Buzz was giving the older man. As much as he hated to admit it, Carlton had been there himself (once upon a time).
Carlton’s gaze shifted to the second ambulance and his smile immediately disappeared. He was headed down the lawn before he fully realized it, rounding the back of it to find Shawn being looked over by a paramedic Carlton vaguely recognized.
Shawn was sitting upright at the back of the vehicle, his feet resting on the pavement. One hand was up, holding an icepack to the back of his head. The other arm was stretched out, giving the medic access to monitor a blood pressure cuff.
Shawn was staring straight ahead, his eyes on Carlton. Carlton saw the glazed look and knew the younger man probably wasn’t actually seeing him.
“How are you holding up, Spencer?” Carlton asked. Shawn jerked and blinked blearily at him.
“Lassie?” Shawn rasped, sounding confused. Carlton shared a frown with the paramedic (Wallace, he remembered). “Are you hurt?” Shawn started to get agitated, dropping the icepack to reach out toward Carlton.
Carlton remembered the grip Shawn had placed on his shoulder earlier that evening, even though it’d been brief. Shawn didn’t get scared often (at least not that he honestly let show) but when he did, Carlton had learned he needed touch to calm him.
Carlton stepped forward quickly, taking hold of the outstretched hand while also reaching around to pick up the icepack. Shawn winced when Carlton touched it to the back of his head, but seemed to relax a bit at his touch.
“I’m fine, Spencer,” Carlton promised, watching as Wallace pulled the cuff from Shawn’s other arm. “What about you?” Carlton directed the question more toward the paramedic; Shawn answered anyway.
“Just a weensy bump on the noggin,” Shawn said, sounding nearly normal. He tried to stand, but only ended up swaying into Carlton.
“Whoa,” Carlton muttered before pushing Shawn back on his butt.
“It’s probably just a mild concussion,” Wallace said, turning to pack away his equipment. “But he should go to the hospital and get more thoroughly looked over to be sure.” Shawn shook his head then groaned as he closed his eyes.
“Not going,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Shawn…” Carlton began. The injured man blinked up at him.
“I’m fine, Carlton,” Shawn said in a surprisingly clear voice. It didn’t make Carlton’s frown disappear. “Don’t even think of declaring me incompetent.”
Carlton rolled his eyes and looked at Wallace. The paramedic held out his hands in a gesture of innocence.
“I already tried,” he said. “It really does just look like a mild concussion. Someone just needs to monitor him the next twenty-four hours; make him take it easy the next few days.” Carlton sighed; he knew the routine.
“Looks like I gotta bunk with you anyway, Spencer,” Carlton said. “My place is still a crime scene.” Shawn grinned and tugged Carlton closer.
“You need an excuse now?” he teased.
Carlton fought the urge to blush as he glanced awkwardly at Wallace. The paramedic was busying himself with his equipment again, though Carlton noticed a slight smirk on his face.
Carlton cleared his throat and disentangled himself from Shawn’s wandering freehand.
“Just figured Henry would appreciate having his own space back.” Carlton looked over his shoulder as the other ambulance pulled away, siren blaring. Carlton looked back at Shawn and tried not to smile. “Of course, if you’d rather spend the next few days with your father…” Shawn glared up at him. Carlton gave up on the serious look.
Shawn dropped Carlton’s hand suddenly. Carlton looked over his own shoulder again to see Henry walking their way.
Henry gave a nod of acknowledgement to the detective before focusing his attention on his son.
“How’s the head?” he asked. Shawn shot a warning glare at Carlton before he could answer.
“It’s fine,” Shawn said. “Detective Lassiter’s going to give me a ride home.”
Carlton looked between the two men and frowned. Shawn never liked to talk about his relationship with his father and Carlton had always wondered why the tension between them existed. From where he stood, Henry wasn’t a bad father.
“Where’d Gus run off to? I thought he was going to stay with you…” Shawn rolled his eyes at his father.
“He followed Jules off somewhere,” Shawn said, waving a hand vaguely in the air. Henry looked ready to say something else, but Shawn cut him off. “I told him to go. It wasn’t like I was alone.”
Shawn slid to his feet. Carlton was ready to catch him again, but Shawn held (relatively) steady. He took the icepack from Carlton, letting out a few muttered curses as he pressed it to his bruised cheek.
“Ready to go Lassie?” he asked. “Or do you need to fetch your hi-fi first?” Carlton barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes again; he was never going to hear the end of that one.
Henry met Carlton’s eyes. “Sure you don’t mind?” Henry asked.
Carlton could see the father, wanting to take care of his son. But he also knew the Spencer men well enough to know that (despite good intentions) an argument would arise somewhere along the way. Shawn’s concussion really didn’t need the added headache. And, on a selfish level, Carlton wanted to keep the younger Spencer close.
“Not a problem, Henry,” Carlton said. Henry hesitated a moment before nodding.
“Give me a call tomorrow?” he asked his son.
“Sure, Dad,” Shawn agreed. Carlton knew Shawn would probably surprise Henry by letting his father cook dinner for him the next day. (He also knew Henry was probably already planning what to cook.)
“Take it easy kid; Carlton.”
“You done with me?” Shawn asked Wallace as Henry walked away.
“Yeah. I’ve got your signature,” the paramedic said, indicating a nearby clipboard. Carlton figured that meant Shawn had already signed the form refusing further medical attention.
“You know what to watch for?” Wallace directed toward Carlton.
“Yeah,” Carlton confirmed. “I've had a couple of these before. Though with Shawn it might be kind of hard to tell the difference.” The paramedic chuckled as Shawn half-heartedly glared at Carlton. “Come on Spencer. Let’s get you out of Wallace’s hair.”
Shawn staggered on their way to Carlton’s car. Carlton caught him with an arm around Shawn’s waist.
“What’s this Lassikins? Finally comfortable with a little PDA?” Shawn asked with a grin. Carlton rolled his eyes.
“Just trying to keep you from taking a face-plant,” he muttered.
“Such a romantic.” Shawn tripped on the curb. Carlton sighed and pulled him closer.
“You gonna make it?” The car really wasn’t that far away, but Carlton had noticed he was supporting more and more of Shawn’s weight.
“No promises, Lassie.”
Carlton frowned but continued to pull Shawn along with him.
“Guster still working on O’Hara?” Carlton asked as he spotted Shawn’s friend standing next to the forensics van. He could see Juliet busy talking to one of the investigators.
Shawn chuckled lightly. Carlton propped him against the car so he could dig in his pockets for his keys.
“Yeah. Jules likes the attention; such a tease,” Shawn replied with affection.
“Watch it,” Carlton warned without any real heat. “She’s my partner again.” Shawn smiled and patted Carlton’s hand before he sank into the waiting passenger seat.
“Yes dear.” Carlton groaned before rounding the car to get behind the wheel.
Shawn didn’t speak again until Carlton was unlocking the door to his apartment.
“I thought your apartment was a crime scene,” Shawn said with a frown. Carlton raised an eyebrow.
“It is,” he confirmed slowly. “This is your place.” Shawn looked inside as Carlton pushed the door open.
“When did I give you a key? I thought I was waiting until your birthday.” Carlton’s eyes widened as Shawn swayed past him and into the cramped apartment. He hadn’t really been expecting that.
“Y-you handed me your keys downstairs,” Carlton stammered. He stepped forward quickly and managed to catch Shawn before he tripped over the coffee table.
“Oh yeah," Shawn said, looking embarrassed. "Forget about your birthday present then: it's a surprise." Carlton frowned as he watched Shawn's face. Shawn began to fidget impatiently. Carlton regained Shawn's attention by letting go of his arm.
"I'll 'forget' on one condition," Carlton said. Shawn eyed him suspiciously.
"I'm not going to like it, am I?"
"Tomorrow we go to the doctor."
Shawn frowned. "Lassie, I'm fine."
"You don't remember handing me your keys!" Carlton argued.
"Yes I do!" Shawn insisted. "You started groping me when we got out of the car and you said 'Spencer, where the hell are your keys?' in your grumpy voice and then I pointed to my pocket like so," Shawn demonstrated, pointing to his left front pocket. "And you said 'you're going to make me pull them out, aren't you?' and I grinned and nodded and your hand lingered for longer than was strictly necessary!"
Carlton blushed a bit, but was unwilling to concede the point to Shawn.
"But you did forget Shawn!" Carlton insisted. He sighed. "Just...a quick visit tomorrow. I'd rather not drag you down there if I don't have to." Carlton's eyes narrowed. "But don't think I'll hesitate to do so if you fight me on this."
Shawn regarded Carlton for a long moment. Carlton recognized the look of Shawn trying to determine just how stubborn he wanted to be.
"You'll forget about your birthday present?" Shawn asked. Carlton smiled.
"What birthday present?" Carlton slid an arm around Shawn's waist to lead him toward the bedroom.
"And we'll get pineapple smoothies afterward?" Carlton rolled his eyes as he fumbled for the light switch.
"Sure thing Shawn."
Shawn grinned and stood as still as he could manage in the middle of the bedroom as Carlton moved in front of him. Carlton took the lack of further argument as agreement and tried not to make his relief too noticeable.
“Lift your arms,” Carlton instructed as he took hold of the hem of Shawn’s shirt. Shawn lifted his arms and promptly wrapped them behind Carlton’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Carlton closed his eyes and leaned into it, his own arms sliding around Shawn’s waist. He’d needed this kiss all night to prove to himself that Shawn was alive, if only to assure himself Shawn was capable of breathing against him.
Shawn broke the kiss and Carlton blinked in confusion as the younger man went down on his knees.
“What are you doing Shawn?” Carlton croaked as Shawn began to fumble with his belt.
“Being thwarted by a buckle,” Shawn grumbled, a look of fierce concentration on his face. (It looked a lot like pain.) Carlton rolled his eyes and grabbed onto Shawn’s shoulders, pulling him to his unsteady feet.
“As much as I’d like you to win that battle,” Carlton grunted as he pushed Shawn to sit at the foot of the bed. “I don’t really think you seeing double right now is going to produce the best results.” Shawn pouted as Carlton bent down to untie his sneakers.
“But I want you to stay,” Shawn practically whined. The plaint made Carlton pause for a moment before he stood again with a frown.
“Lift your arms,” he said again, pulling at Shawn’s shirt. “I’m not going anywhere tonight,” Carlton promised. Shawn was watching him with wide eyes when the shirt was finally past his head. Carlton tossed the shirt in the direction of Shawn’s hamper.
“You’ll stay?” Shawn whispered. Carlton looked down at him for a few seconds before sighing. He placed a light kiss on Shawn’s forehead before moving away to pull off his jacket and step out of his own shoes.
“Just get under the covers, Shawn,” Carlton said gently. Shawn did so, though he kept an eye on the older man as Carlton stripped down to his boxers. After carefully setting his clothes on the chair in the corner, Carlton hit the light switch and moved back to the bed. He could feel Shawn’s eyes on him as he slid next to him under the blankets.
“Shit,” Carlton muttered, moving back toward the edge of the bed. “Do you need some Tylenol or aspirin or something?” he asked in concern. Shawn’s hand grabbed his arm before he got out of the bed.
“Wally the Medic gave me something,” Shawn said. He tugged on Carlton’s arm until Carlton was lying down again.
Carlton couldn’t help but smile as Shawn wrapped himself around him. He’d never been surprised that Shawn was an octopus in bed. It was just essentially Shawn. Carlton rested his arms around him as Shawn settled with a sigh, his head on Carlton’s chest.
“Comfy?” Carlton asked.
“Mmm,” was the only reply he received. Carlton chuckled.
“Sleep, Shawn,” Carlton ordered softly. “I have to wake you up in a couple of hours.” Shawn groaned and buried his face against Carlton. Carlton smiled as he stroked a hand lightly down Shawn’s back. It wasn’t long before he felt the younger man drop off to sleep.
Shawn was warm against him and Carlton pulled him just a little closer. The past couple of days were suddenly catching up with him.
He couldn’t believe he’d been angry with Shawn when he’d first walked into his apartment. What if those had been his last words to him? Yelling at him for breaking in and putting his feet up on the coffee table? Carlton closed his eyes and pressed his face into the soft comfort of Shawn’s hair.
Shawn was planning to give him a key and Carlton had been pissed at him for just walking into his apartment. Carlton didn’t need anyone to tell him there was an imbalance in the level of trust they had in one another.
Carlton was responsible for pissing Drimmer off and putting Shawn in danger. Beyond that even, it’d been Carlton who’d pursued the relationship with Shawn in the first place. He’d initiated a relationship that would very probably end up with one (or both) of them dead on the job. (It'd been a major argument with his ex-wife, and Carlton suddenly found himself highly sympathetic with her side of things.)
Carlton was well aware if Shawn hadn’t convinced him to hide that last gun in a bowl of peanuts, the fake psychic would be cold and dead and not wrapped comfortably around him.
“Stop thinking, Lassie,” Shawn murmured against his skin. Carlton’s eyes popped open. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“I think Drimmer gave you a headache,” Carlton said bitterly. Shawn had already fallen back asleep.
Carlton took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Shawn was safe and Carlton couldn’t change what had already happened.
Though maybe he could dig up a spare key for him.
Carlton smiled in the dark and let go of Shawn long enough to snag the alarm clock off the nightstand. In just two hours it’d be his turn to prove to Shawn he could be just as obnoxious as the best of them.
What was that song Shawn hated…?
TBC in Part 2