Fic: No, No Problem
Title: No, No Problem
Author: Nems
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter, Juliet/April one-sided
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Handcuff!sex
Summary: Post-ep fic for 3.10. That conversation during lunch, between Jules and April, expanded upon. And after a couple of rough weeks, the wrap-up and subsequent fun is just what Lassy needs
Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me.
A/N: Whew. My lovely wives, Cris and phinnia, betaed the sex scene. And badluck97... if I knew how to write a decent Shakespearean sonnet, in iambic pentameter and everything, I would write one extolling her awesomeness. Unfortunately, I don't, so I have to make do with ramblings. Okay, she suggested stuffs. And had long ass conversations with me about how Shawn would behave. And is just generally totally awesome. Seriously.
Jules was sitting and eating lunch with April. She liked the woman a lot, probably more than was strictly friendly. It didn’t bother her any; she had always been very comfortable in her biflexibility. They started off by talking about how awesome it had been to scare Labayda, how awesome the other was in there, just in general how good it was.
Jules found she missed this type of conversation, boosting each other up, compliments more than just a, “Good work.” Lassiter was not exactly generous when he was appreciative, and sometimes, she just felt like she needed more than just two words.
And she loved watching the woman talk, the way her hands moved constantly and how expressive she was nonverbally. Jules was much more reserved when it came to body language, something she attributed to being a cop.
She wondered, idly, if April was interested in her in that way. Would the conservationist understand what Jules meant if she asked her out to dinner, or would she think it was just friendly, an extension of this crime-fighting partnership?
As she pondered this, April burst out with, “Listen.”
Jules looked over, banishing thoughts of dinner and maybe even dessert to the back of her mind.
“I don’t know if this is the right time to ask, but…” April took a deep breath, and Jules wondered if maybe she didn’t have to ask about dinner because April was going to.
“What about Shawn?”
Jules hoped her face didn’t betray her disappointment or shock too much. Of course April was taken in by Shawn; everyone was. Well, almost. But it was hard not to like him, with his endless charm, his easy smile, and that eerie ability to tell people things about themselves.
“What about him?” Jules asked. She didn’t know why she asked; she already knew what April was gonna say. She wanted to ask Shawn out, or hint at it, and wanted to know what her opinion was.
“I don’t know! Something… intriguing. You know, odd. It’s refreshing.”
Jules nodded, more out of lack of an appropriate response than agreement with what April was saying. Yep, April was after Shawn.
“I was thinking of letting him know that I was,” and there was that hand flail Jules found so adorable, “available, you know, and all that.” Then came the clincher. “What do you think?”
Jules had a lot of thoughts about this. First one being that telling Shawn she was available was pointless, because Shawn wasn’t available. She pushed her annoyance away; she had no right to expect anything from April or to feel jealous.
“I… don’t know,” Jules managed to stammer out. She had promised not to tell anyone about Shawn’s relationship status - something both he and his lover insisted on. What could she say, they were both very convincing when they wanted to be.
“Is there a problem?” April asked.
No, Jules thought. None at all. Well, if we ignore that Shawn’s lover will kill you if you go near Shawn, or at least try. Not known for sharing, that one. And you’re asking me this, and I have a conflict of interest here. That’s… also annoying. Not that it constitutes a problem, per se.
“No! No, there’s no problem.” She reached for her soda can, training her eyes away from April.
***
Carlton was annoyed. There was no other word for it. The case refused to be solved, which bugged him.
The fact that he was investigating the murder of a sea lion did not put him in a better mood. The only reason he was still working this case was because Shawn asked him to, and that alone was aggravating. Just a bit. When had he become such a pushover? When he started putting his wiggling to good use, his brain supplied.
Carlton pushed those thoughts away; he didn’t need to be distracted by thoughts of being buried in Shawn’s body. He liked to save those thoughts for when he could do something about it, like lunch break (especially when Shawn was around) or late at night, when Shawn was there and his. He really liked the nights when both of them got home early.
Today was not shaping up to be one of those days. That annoyed him, too.
And he was extremely annoyed by those damn smugglers getting away.
He was not a happy man.
He walked into the break room for a cup of coffee, interrupting some light-hearted discussion. The three younger officers in there immediately began pretending to be talking about work, bandying about meaningless names. Carlton smirked slightly.
Once he left, he could hear snippits of conversation about him drifting down the hallways. He shamelessly stopped and listened.
“I still can’t believe he tried to get helicopters to follow the Rocinante in that storm,” one of the officers said, hints of laughter in his voice.
“Come on, Jack. Man had to save face somehow. After all, the smugglers got away on his watch!”
They laughed heartily.
“Now, you two, be fair. Those smugglers were clearly ingenious. It took the good Detective two weeks to track them down.”
“I hear now he’s investigating a sea lion’s death. What do we think? His choice or did the Chief assign him to that to keep him away from more important cases?”
“All I could think when I heard was ‘how the mighty have fallen.’”
Carlton gritted his teeth. He knew perfectly well he was currently the laughing stock of the station, but it was one thing knowing and another hearing.
He was about to turn around and chastise him when the Chief called out to him.
“I’m glad I found you,” she said. “It’s about this case.”
Carlton cast one last, longing look at the break room, but headed after the Chief.
***
Juliet was sitting at her desk, working, when her phone buzzed. She waved to the Chief. “Chief! Come here!”
The Chief came running. “Okay, what, what, what’s so important?”
“I just got a text from Shawn Spencer.” If it hadn’t been so urgent, she would’ve wondered why Shawn chose to text her and not Lassiter.
“And was does it say?”
“It says that he’s solved the crime, and…”
“And what?” the Chief demanded, reaching to angle the phone towards herself to see the message for herself.
“And he’s trapped in the hull of a smuggler’s boat going out to sea,” Juliet finished.
The Chief put her hands on her hips and considered this. “What do we do with that?” she wondered.
Juliet started texting him back, trying to ward off the Chief’s corrections. Who knew she knew text lingo that well?
The Chief wandered off to do other Chief-like things that probably didn’t involve sea lions while Juliet waited for a response. While she did, she pretended to work and actually thought about why Shawn had texted her.
Lassiter walked towards her and stopped at her desk. “O’Hara, any progress on the case?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Shawn just texted me telling me that he solved the case.”
“Great. Where is he? Or did I miss the flailing, wiggling, and inappropriate touching?”
Juliet ignored that. She knew it was just an act. “Well, that’s the thing. He’s… in the hull of a boat going out to sea,” she explained.
Lassiter frowned and reached into his pocket for his phone. It proclaimed he had one new message from Shawn.
“Did he text you?” Juliet asked.
Lassiter nodded. “Ignored it,” he stated, but didn’t explain why. Juliet guessed he thought it had been a dirty message (Shawn was apparently very fond of them). “Any way to find him?”
“Don’t know yet,” she answered.
“Right. Call me when you know,” he said, his jaw tight.
“Where are you going?” she asked bewilderedly as he started to leave.
“Shooting range,” he called over his shoulder.
Of course. Working off his frustration and fear. Should’ve guessed.
Her phone buzzed again a short while later. “Chief! I got another text!”
***
First street and Main. Carlton was almost amused by where the boat going out to sea ended up.
Almost. Because when he burst in, Shawn and Guster had their hands up, and Shawn seemed to be running out of ideas. Carlton could tell they came in the nick of time.
The thought made something in his chest tighten, made his stomach queasy, made bile rise sharply to the back of his throat.
He grabbed a criminal and shoved them towards some cops ready to cuff him, read him his rights, and take him down to the station.
He holstered his gun and managed a smirk. “Saving your ass again, Spencer?” (Always last names on the job so as to not give the game away).
“Lassy,” Shawn said as he bumped fists with Guster, “Believe you’ll find that whatever your missing smugglers had is in that truck over there. Diamonds? Perhaps in the boat.”
“What are you talking about?” Carlton asked suspiciously.
“I’m helping you. I told you: it’s a two-way street.”
“Wait a minute, how did you…”
Shawn raised his right hand to his temple. “Little bit of this…” He raised his other hand to his temple. “And a whole lot of that.” He grinned at Carlton. Carlton ignored the urge to roll his eyes; he should’ve known Shawn had found out something about this case.
They shared a look. After a rough couple of days (weeks, in Carlton’s case), a night off was just what they needed. Carlton knew exactly what he wanted to do to Shawn. And it definitely involved handcuffs.
Maybe even a strip-tease. If they weren’t too impatient, that is.
Carlton was suddenly filled with a desperate need to fuck Shawn, to bury himself in Shawn’s body and lose himself in the moment, in that perfect, wonderful moment, with Shawn’s smell filling his nose and Shawn’s skin before his eyes and Shawn’s taste on his lips and Shawn’s moans and whimpers in his ears.
He shook himself out of his reverie and went to go search the truck and the boat for the smuggled goods.
***
Carlton sat on the sofa, drumming the fingers of one hand against his thigh. The other hand held the remote loosely and was resting by his leg. He was watching the news with little interest, killing time until Shawn arrived. Shawn had said something about the Chief wanting to talk to him, and Carlton had decided to leave the report for tomorrow. He doubted the Chief would complain.
The door opened and shut. Carlton craned his neck to see the doorway. Shawn shrugged out of his brown jacket, which he left in an ungainly heap on the floor. Carlton ignored that for now, more intent on getting Shawn naked and cuffed to the bed.
Shawn walked to the couch and stopped right above Carlton. Carlton reached up to pull him down for a kiss, and Shawn went willingly, a small smile hovering on his lips.
The upside-down kiss was simple, no tongue or urgency (yet), just Carlton’s dry, chapped lips pressed against Shawn’s ridiculously slick ones. That man went through more Chapstick than Carlton went through boxes of bullets.
Shawn pulled away, rubbing his neck slightly to dissipate the ache. He walked around to the front of the couch and straddled Carlton’s lap. Carlton turned the TV off blindly and dropped the remote onto the cushion next to him.
Shawn’s hands were holding his head in place as he bent down for another kiss. Carlton’s tongue flicked out to lick at Shawn’s bottom lip. Ick, Carlton thought. Has Shawn actually managed to find pineapple Chapstick? The taste was some awful bastardization of pineapple, a fruit Carlton wasn’t overly fond of to begin with.
He stopped thinking about that once Shawn trapped Carlton’s tongue with his teeth and started sucking. Carlton unbuttoned Shawn’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall onto the floor.
Then there was skin, warm, lovely skin underneath his hands, and Carlton was running his hands everywhere he could reach while kissing Shawn. Shawn’s kisses right now were insistent and forceful, his tongue constantly pushing into Carlton’s mouth. He was tugging at Carlton’s tie, the knot becoming more knotted instead of unraveling neatly. He made a little growl of frustration at neckwear in general.
He pulled away to stare at the offending strip of cloth still hanging around Carlton’s neck. “Seriously, Carly, what is the point of this thing?”
“Makes me look professional,” Carlton answered. “Unlike you. You look like you just rolled out of bed most days.”
“You should know by now that’s true most days.” It was, too, Shawn barely manage to crawl out from under the blankets most mornings. Worse was when Shawn tried to keep him in bed like that, too.
Carlton kissed Shawn again briefly, then pushed at him. Shawn slid off Carlton’s lap with a slight pout, which drove Carlton slightly crazy. He jumped to his feet and his fingers curled around the back of Shawn’s neck, drawing him close for a frantic kiss.
Shawn pulled away again with one last nip at Carlton’s bottom lip. “Bed,” he murmured huskily. “And bring the handcuffs.”
“Oh, those won’t be the only things I’m bringing.”
Shawn’s grin blinded him for a moment, and he really, desperately wanted to kiss it. Instead, he walked purposefully towards the cabinet, where they kept the fuzzy handcuffs, while Shawn high-tailed it to the bedroom.
He grabbed the yellow fuzzy handcuffs and twirled them around his finger as he entered the bedroom. Shawn was already lying, naked, on the bed, and his breath hitched as he watched the cuffs spin. He raised his arms above his head, and Carlton leaned over Shawn, his tie brushing tantalizingly across Shawn’s face. Shawn giggled, wriggling slightly.
Carlton ignored the wiggling to the best of his ability. He cuffed one of Shawn’s wrists, not too tightly, but not so loosely that Shawn’s hands could slip out. He threaded the chain through one of the bars on the headboard and cuffed Shawn’s other hand. He leaned down next to Shawn’s ear. “Was so upset when I came in and found out they’d released you,” he whispered in Shawn’s ear. “Wanted to see you in cuffs so badly. Haven’t seen you in cuffs for so long, and they are just made for your wrists, don’t you think?”
Shawn let out a small moan at that, his hips bucking upwards. “Different cuffs, though. Those ones wouldn’t’ve been yellow and fuzzy.”
A wicked grin crossed Carlton’s face, and he traced a finger teasingly down Shawn’s cock. Shawn whimpered at that, tugging at his restraints. They didn’t give (they’d be pretty useless if they did). Shawn pouted, his bottom lip sticking out invitingly, and Carlton sucked it into his mouth. His hands fluttered along Shawn’s sides, almost lightly enough to tickle, making Shawn squirm.
“Carly,” Shawn breathed against Carlton’s lips. “You have way too many clothes on for this.”
Carlton reluctantly pulled back, willing himself to be patient. He tugged at the knot in his tie, wondering how Shawn had made a simple knot so difficult to undo. He finally managed to get it off his neck, even if it was still knotted. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt, letting that ‘sternum bush’ show, just like in the station when Shawn had been arrested.
Shawn licked his lips, making small noises in the back of his throat. His fingers clenched and unclenched, and his hips bucked upwards.
“Mm. Know how hard it was to avoid mauling you in the station the other night? Showing off that sternum bush then, just like you are now… I think you should go to the station more often without your tie.”
“Shawn! What did we discuss? No reading my thoughts, but especially not during sex.”
“Well, we haven’t started having sex yet. You’re still way over there, playing with that sexy chest hair.”
Carlton’s fingers slowed a bit on the buttons, stroking each one before slipping it out of the buttonhole. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, letting them slide glacially slow down his arms.
Shawn’s eyes were devouring him alive. The shirt fell to the floor, forgotten immediately, and Carlton turned his attention to his belt and pants. His cock was straining impatiently, Shawn was squirming insistently, and Carlton decided to forego the rest of the striptease entirely.
Mainly because he really wanted to fuck Shawn, right about now.
He undid his belt quickly and shoved his pants and underwear down, hopping out of them. His socks he nearly tore off, wondering why he hadn’t thought to remove them before Shawn got home.
He kneeled on the bed and arranged himself so that he was on all fours above Shawn. Shawn grinned at him, arching his back to bring their cocks into contact. Carlton pressed downwards, into Shawn, giving both of them much needed friction. Carlton’s hips snapped forward of their own volition. Shawn moaned and wrapped his legs around Carlton. The pressure was lovely, the friction rough but it felt so good, so good after nearly a week without sex. Carlton gasped as Shawn rolled his hips, and Shawn’s low moan vibrated between them.
Carlton’s open mouth stretched into a fascimile of a smile; Shawn was always loud in bed, moaning and whimpering and begging. Carlton, himself always silent, loved the endless noise.
He reached for the nightstand blindly, nearly knocking over the lamp and sending a pile of books flying. They landed with a clutter he barely heard, his hips still moving against Shawn’s, the friction edging on painful, but he couldn’t stop.
He finally yanked open the drawer, stopping just before the entire nightstand toppled or the drawer came flying out. He pulled out the lube and a condom, dropping them both on the bed. Raising himself up, Carlton smiled wickedly down at Shawn. Shawn whined at the loss of contact, arching his back impossibly high to try and feel Carlton against him again, but to no avail.
Carlton slicked his fingers and pressed two into Shawn, who whimpered delightfully. “Carly… you tease,” he murmured.
Carlton chuckled as he prepared Shawn. He touched Shawn as little as possible outside of this, trying to regain some semblance of control, but he knew by the way Shawn was wiggling and moaning that it wouldn’t last long, no matter what he did.
He ripped the condom packet open and rolled the condom onto his cock. Shawn spread his legs as wide as they would go, his eyes closed in anticipation.
Carlton lined up and slid in in one fast motion. Shawn groaned loudly while Carlton let out a much quieter gasp of his own. Shawn’s legs immediately wrapped around Carlton’s waist again. He pushed insistently against Carlton and pulled him closer with his legs, trying to make him move.
Carlton pulled out and pushed back in teasingly, grinning at Shawn’s mewl of desperation.
“Kiss me,” Shawn demanded, lifting his head up for a kiss. Carlton was only too eager to comply, leaning down and covering Shawn’s mouth with his. He set an unrelentingly hard rhythm with both his cock and his tongue, pushing and pulling demandingly, hurling both of them towards orgasmic bliss. Shawn was again tugging at the restraints, murmuring in between kisses, “Want to touch you…”
Carlton slid one hand along Shawn’s body to his cuffed hands and interlaced their fingers. Shawn’s fingers tightened around his, and they both gasped at the intimacy of it. Carlton began nibbling along Shawn’s jaw line, ignoring the stubble and the very real possibility of beard burn tomorrow.
His mouth free again, Shawn began pleading for release. “Oh god, please, fuck, fuck, harder, oh fuck! C’mon, touch me, please, let me come, need to come, oh god, fuck fuck fuck.”
Carlton’s other hand meandered teasingly to Shawn’s cock. His fingers had barely wrapped around it when Shawn pushed his cock firmly into Carlton’s hand.
He stroked Shawn’s cock roughly and pushed into him even more roughly, shifting until he found the spot that made Shawn clench and scream.
And then Shawn was coming, spurts of come hitting their stomachs. He screamed all the way through his orgasm, tightening around Carlton’s cock and thrashing.
A few more thrusts, and Carlton was there, too, heat spreading through him and out of him. He collapsed bonelessly onto Shawn, who gave a little “oomf!” of protest. He nuzzled Shawn’s neck and sighed contentedly.
“Carly,” Shawn said, shifting. “You have the key to let me go, you’re sticky, I’m sticky, and you hate it when we fall asleep sticky. Like stick insects. You know, those weird bugs that look like sticks?”
Carlton sighed and got up. He freed Shawn, who rubbed his wrists absently before wrapping his arms around Carlton’s neck and pulling him in for a sloppy, sated kiss.
Author: Nems
Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter, Juliet/April one-sided
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Handcuff!sex
Summary: Post-ep fic for 3.10. That conversation during lunch, between Jules and April, expanded upon. And after a couple of rough weeks, the wrap-up and subsequent fun is just what Lassy needs
Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me.
A/N: Whew. My lovely wives, Cris and phinnia, betaed the sex scene. And badluck97... if I knew how to write a decent Shakespearean sonnet, in iambic pentameter and everything, I would write one extolling her awesomeness. Unfortunately, I don't, so I have to make do with ramblings. Okay, she suggested stuffs. And had long ass conversations with me about how Shawn would behave. And is just generally totally awesome. Seriously.
Jules was sitting and eating lunch with April. She liked the woman a lot, probably more than was strictly friendly. It didn’t bother her any; she had always been very comfortable in her biflexibility. They started off by talking about how awesome it had been to scare Labayda, how awesome the other was in there, just in general how good it was.
Jules found she missed this type of conversation, boosting each other up, compliments more than just a, “Good work.” Lassiter was not exactly generous when he was appreciative, and sometimes, she just felt like she needed more than just two words.
And she loved watching the woman talk, the way her hands moved constantly and how expressive she was nonverbally. Jules was much more reserved when it came to body language, something she attributed to being a cop.
She wondered, idly, if April was interested in her in that way. Would the conservationist understand what Jules meant if she asked her out to dinner, or would she think it was just friendly, an extension of this crime-fighting partnership?
As she pondered this, April burst out with, “Listen.”
Jules looked over, banishing thoughts of dinner and maybe even dessert to the back of her mind.
“I don’t know if this is the right time to ask, but…” April took a deep breath, and Jules wondered if maybe she didn’t have to ask about dinner because April was going to.
“What about Shawn?”
Jules hoped her face didn’t betray her disappointment or shock too much. Of course April was taken in by Shawn; everyone was. Well, almost. But it was hard not to like him, with his endless charm, his easy smile, and that eerie ability to tell people things about themselves.
“What about him?” Jules asked. She didn’t know why she asked; she already knew what April was gonna say. She wanted to ask Shawn out, or hint at it, and wanted to know what her opinion was.
“I don’t know! Something… intriguing. You know, odd. It’s refreshing.”
Jules nodded, more out of lack of an appropriate response than agreement with what April was saying. Yep, April was after Shawn.
“I was thinking of letting him know that I was,” and there was that hand flail Jules found so adorable, “available, you know, and all that.” Then came the clincher. “What do you think?”
Jules had a lot of thoughts about this. First one being that telling Shawn she was available was pointless, because Shawn wasn’t available. She pushed her annoyance away; she had no right to expect anything from April or to feel jealous.
“I… don’t know,” Jules managed to stammer out. She had promised not to tell anyone about Shawn’s relationship status - something both he and his lover insisted on. What could she say, they were both very convincing when they wanted to be.
“Is there a problem?” April asked.
No, Jules thought. None at all. Well, if we ignore that Shawn’s lover will kill you if you go near Shawn, or at least try. Not known for sharing, that one. And you’re asking me this, and I have a conflict of interest here. That’s… also annoying. Not that it constitutes a problem, per se.
“No! No, there’s no problem.” She reached for her soda can, training her eyes away from April.
***
Carlton was annoyed. There was no other word for it. The case refused to be solved, which bugged him.
The fact that he was investigating the murder of a sea lion did not put him in a better mood. The only reason he was still working this case was because Shawn asked him to, and that alone was aggravating. Just a bit. When had he become such a pushover? When he started putting his wiggling to good use, his brain supplied.
Carlton pushed those thoughts away; he didn’t need to be distracted by thoughts of being buried in Shawn’s body. He liked to save those thoughts for when he could do something about it, like lunch break (especially when Shawn was around) or late at night, when Shawn was there and his. He really liked the nights when both of them got home early.
Today was not shaping up to be one of those days. That annoyed him, too.
And he was extremely annoyed by those damn smugglers getting away.
He was not a happy man.
He walked into the break room for a cup of coffee, interrupting some light-hearted discussion. The three younger officers in there immediately began pretending to be talking about work, bandying about meaningless names. Carlton smirked slightly.
Once he left, he could hear snippits of conversation about him drifting down the hallways. He shamelessly stopped and listened.
“I still can’t believe he tried to get helicopters to follow the Rocinante in that storm,” one of the officers said, hints of laughter in his voice.
“Come on, Jack. Man had to save face somehow. After all, the smugglers got away on his watch!”
They laughed heartily.
“Now, you two, be fair. Those smugglers were clearly ingenious. It took the good Detective two weeks to track them down.”
“I hear now he’s investigating a sea lion’s death. What do we think? His choice or did the Chief assign him to that to keep him away from more important cases?”
“All I could think when I heard was ‘how the mighty have fallen.’”
Carlton gritted his teeth. He knew perfectly well he was currently the laughing stock of the station, but it was one thing knowing and another hearing.
He was about to turn around and chastise him when the Chief called out to him.
“I’m glad I found you,” she said. “It’s about this case.”
Carlton cast one last, longing look at the break room, but headed after the Chief.
***
Juliet was sitting at her desk, working, when her phone buzzed. She waved to the Chief. “Chief! Come here!”
The Chief came running. “Okay, what, what, what’s so important?”
“I just got a text from Shawn Spencer.” If it hadn’t been so urgent, she would’ve wondered why Shawn chose to text her and not Lassiter.
“And was does it say?”
“It says that he’s solved the crime, and…”
“And what?” the Chief demanded, reaching to angle the phone towards herself to see the message for herself.
“And he’s trapped in the hull of a smuggler’s boat going out to sea,” Juliet finished.
The Chief put her hands on her hips and considered this. “What do we do with that?” she wondered.
Juliet started texting him back, trying to ward off the Chief’s corrections. Who knew she knew text lingo that well?
The Chief wandered off to do other Chief-like things that probably didn’t involve sea lions while Juliet waited for a response. While she did, she pretended to work and actually thought about why Shawn had texted her.
Lassiter walked towards her and stopped at her desk. “O’Hara, any progress on the case?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Shawn just texted me telling me that he solved the case.”
“Great. Where is he? Or did I miss the flailing, wiggling, and inappropriate touching?”
Juliet ignored that. She knew it was just an act. “Well, that’s the thing. He’s… in the hull of a boat going out to sea,” she explained.
Lassiter frowned and reached into his pocket for his phone. It proclaimed he had one new message from Shawn.
“Did he text you?” Juliet asked.
Lassiter nodded. “Ignored it,” he stated, but didn’t explain why. Juliet guessed he thought it had been a dirty message (Shawn was apparently very fond of them). “Any way to find him?”
“Don’t know yet,” she answered.
“Right. Call me when you know,” he said, his jaw tight.
“Where are you going?” she asked bewilderedly as he started to leave.
“Shooting range,” he called over his shoulder.
Of course. Working off his frustration and fear. Should’ve guessed.
Her phone buzzed again a short while later. “Chief! I got another text!”
***
First street and Main. Carlton was almost amused by where the boat going out to sea ended up.
Almost. Because when he burst in, Shawn and Guster had their hands up, and Shawn seemed to be running out of ideas. Carlton could tell they came in the nick of time.
The thought made something in his chest tighten, made his stomach queasy, made bile rise sharply to the back of his throat.
He grabbed a criminal and shoved them towards some cops ready to cuff him, read him his rights, and take him down to the station.
He holstered his gun and managed a smirk. “Saving your ass again, Spencer?” (Always last names on the job so as to not give the game away).
“Lassy,” Shawn said as he bumped fists with Guster, “Believe you’ll find that whatever your missing smugglers had is in that truck over there. Diamonds? Perhaps in the boat.”
“What are you talking about?” Carlton asked suspiciously.
“I’m helping you. I told you: it’s a two-way street.”
“Wait a minute, how did you…”
Shawn raised his right hand to his temple. “Little bit of this…” He raised his other hand to his temple. “And a whole lot of that.” He grinned at Carlton. Carlton ignored the urge to roll his eyes; he should’ve known Shawn had found out something about this case.
They shared a look. After a rough couple of days (weeks, in Carlton’s case), a night off was just what they needed. Carlton knew exactly what he wanted to do to Shawn. And it definitely involved handcuffs.
Maybe even a strip-tease. If they weren’t too impatient, that is.
Carlton was suddenly filled with a desperate need to fuck Shawn, to bury himself in Shawn’s body and lose himself in the moment, in that perfect, wonderful moment, with Shawn’s smell filling his nose and Shawn’s skin before his eyes and Shawn’s taste on his lips and Shawn’s moans and whimpers in his ears.
He shook himself out of his reverie and went to go search the truck and the boat for the smuggled goods.
***
Carlton sat on the sofa, drumming the fingers of one hand against his thigh. The other hand held the remote loosely and was resting by his leg. He was watching the news with little interest, killing time until Shawn arrived. Shawn had said something about the Chief wanting to talk to him, and Carlton had decided to leave the report for tomorrow. He doubted the Chief would complain.
The door opened and shut. Carlton craned his neck to see the doorway. Shawn shrugged out of his brown jacket, which he left in an ungainly heap on the floor. Carlton ignored that for now, more intent on getting Shawn naked and cuffed to the bed.
Shawn walked to the couch and stopped right above Carlton. Carlton reached up to pull him down for a kiss, and Shawn went willingly, a small smile hovering on his lips.
The upside-down kiss was simple, no tongue or urgency (yet), just Carlton’s dry, chapped lips pressed against Shawn’s ridiculously slick ones. That man went through more Chapstick than Carlton went through boxes of bullets.
Shawn pulled away, rubbing his neck slightly to dissipate the ache. He walked around to the front of the couch and straddled Carlton’s lap. Carlton turned the TV off blindly and dropped the remote onto the cushion next to him.
Shawn’s hands were holding his head in place as he bent down for another kiss. Carlton’s tongue flicked out to lick at Shawn’s bottom lip. Ick, Carlton thought. Has Shawn actually managed to find pineapple Chapstick? The taste was some awful bastardization of pineapple, a fruit Carlton wasn’t overly fond of to begin with.
He stopped thinking about that once Shawn trapped Carlton’s tongue with his teeth and started sucking. Carlton unbuttoned Shawn’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall onto the floor.
Then there was skin, warm, lovely skin underneath his hands, and Carlton was running his hands everywhere he could reach while kissing Shawn. Shawn’s kisses right now were insistent and forceful, his tongue constantly pushing into Carlton’s mouth. He was tugging at Carlton’s tie, the knot becoming more knotted instead of unraveling neatly. He made a little growl of frustration at neckwear in general.
He pulled away to stare at the offending strip of cloth still hanging around Carlton’s neck. “Seriously, Carly, what is the point of this thing?”
“Makes me look professional,” Carlton answered. “Unlike you. You look like you just rolled out of bed most days.”
“You should know by now that’s true most days.” It was, too, Shawn barely manage to crawl out from under the blankets most mornings. Worse was when Shawn tried to keep him in bed like that, too.
Carlton kissed Shawn again briefly, then pushed at him. Shawn slid off Carlton’s lap with a slight pout, which drove Carlton slightly crazy. He jumped to his feet and his fingers curled around the back of Shawn’s neck, drawing him close for a frantic kiss.
Shawn pulled away again with one last nip at Carlton’s bottom lip. “Bed,” he murmured huskily. “And bring the handcuffs.”
“Oh, those won’t be the only things I’m bringing.”
Shawn’s grin blinded him for a moment, and he really, desperately wanted to kiss it. Instead, he walked purposefully towards the cabinet, where they kept the fuzzy handcuffs, while Shawn high-tailed it to the bedroom.
He grabbed the yellow fuzzy handcuffs and twirled them around his finger as he entered the bedroom. Shawn was already lying, naked, on the bed, and his breath hitched as he watched the cuffs spin. He raised his arms above his head, and Carlton leaned over Shawn, his tie brushing tantalizingly across Shawn’s face. Shawn giggled, wriggling slightly.
Carlton ignored the wiggling to the best of his ability. He cuffed one of Shawn’s wrists, not too tightly, but not so loosely that Shawn’s hands could slip out. He threaded the chain through one of the bars on the headboard and cuffed Shawn’s other hand. He leaned down next to Shawn’s ear. “Was so upset when I came in and found out they’d released you,” he whispered in Shawn’s ear. “Wanted to see you in cuffs so badly. Haven’t seen you in cuffs for so long, and they are just made for your wrists, don’t you think?”
Shawn let out a small moan at that, his hips bucking upwards. “Different cuffs, though. Those ones wouldn’t’ve been yellow and fuzzy.”
A wicked grin crossed Carlton’s face, and he traced a finger teasingly down Shawn’s cock. Shawn whimpered at that, tugging at his restraints. They didn’t give (they’d be pretty useless if they did). Shawn pouted, his bottom lip sticking out invitingly, and Carlton sucked it into his mouth. His hands fluttered along Shawn’s sides, almost lightly enough to tickle, making Shawn squirm.
“Carly,” Shawn breathed against Carlton’s lips. “You have way too many clothes on for this.”
Carlton reluctantly pulled back, willing himself to be patient. He tugged at the knot in his tie, wondering how Shawn had made a simple knot so difficult to undo. He finally managed to get it off his neck, even if it was still knotted. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt, letting that ‘sternum bush’ show, just like in the station when Shawn had been arrested.
Shawn licked his lips, making small noises in the back of his throat. His fingers clenched and unclenched, and his hips bucked upwards.
“Mm. Know how hard it was to avoid mauling you in the station the other night? Showing off that sternum bush then, just like you are now… I think you should go to the station more often without your tie.”
“Shawn! What did we discuss? No reading my thoughts, but especially not during sex.”
“Well, we haven’t started having sex yet. You’re still way over there, playing with that sexy chest hair.”
Carlton’s fingers slowed a bit on the buttons, stroking each one before slipping it out of the buttonhole. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, letting them slide glacially slow down his arms.
Shawn’s eyes were devouring him alive. The shirt fell to the floor, forgotten immediately, and Carlton turned his attention to his belt and pants. His cock was straining impatiently, Shawn was squirming insistently, and Carlton decided to forego the rest of the striptease entirely.
Mainly because he really wanted to fuck Shawn, right about now.
He undid his belt quickly and shoved his pants and underwear down, hopping out of them. His socks he nearly tore off, wondering why he hadn’t thought to remove them before Shawn got home.
He kneeled on the bed and arranged himself so that he was on all fours above Shawn. Shawn grinned at him, arching his back to bring their cocks into contact. Carlton pressed downwards, into Shawn, giving both of them much needed friction. Carlton’s hips snapped forward of their own volition. Shawn moaned and wrapped his legs around Carlton. The pressure was lovely, the friction rough but it felt so good, so good after nearly a week without sex. Carlton gasped as Shawn rolled his hips, and Shawn’s low moan vibrated between them.
Carlton’s open mouth stretched into a fascimile of a smile; Shawn was always loud in bed, moaning and whimpering and begging. Carlton, himself always silent, loved the endless noise.
He reached for the nightstand blindly, nearly knocking over the lamp and sending a pile of books flying. They landed with a clutter he barely heard, his hips still moving against Shawn’s, the friction edging on painful, but he couldn’t stop.
He finally yanked open the drawer, stopping just before the entire nightstand toppled or the drawer came flying out. He pulled out the lube and a condom, dropping them both on the bed. Raising himself up, Carlton smiled wickedly down at Shawn. Shawn whined at the loss of contact, arching his back impossibly high to try and feel Carlton against him again, but to no avail.
Carlton slicked his fingers and pressed two into Shawn, who whimpered delightfully. “Carly… you tease,” he murmured.
Carlton chuckled as he prepared Shawn. He touched Shawn as little as possible outside of this, trying to regain some semblance of control, but he knew by the way Shawn was wiggling and moaning that it wouldn’t last long, no matter what he did.
He ripped the condom packet open and rolled the condom onto his cock. Shawn spread his legs as wide as they would go, his eyes closed in anticipation.
Carlton lined up and slid in in one fast motion. Shawn groaned loudly while Carlton let out a much quieter gasp of his own. Shawn’s legs immediately wrapped around Carlton’s waist again. He pushed insistently against Carlton and pulled him closer with his legs, trying to make him move.
Carlton pulled out and pushed back in teasingly, grinning at Shawn’s mewl of desperation.
“Kiss me,” Shawn demanded, lifting his head up for a kiss. Carlton was only too eager to comply, leaning down and covering Shawn’s mouth with his. He set an unrelentingly hard rhythm with both his cock and his tongue, pushing and pulling demandingly, hurling both of them towards orgasmic bliss. Shawn was again tugging at the restraints, murmuring in between kisses, “Want to touch you…”
Carlton slid one hand along Shawn’s body to his cuffed hands and interlaced their fingers. Shawn’s fingers tightened around his, and they both gasped at the intimacy of it. Carlton began nibbling along Shawn’s jaw line, ignoring the stubble and the very real possibility of beard burn tomorrow.
His mouth free again, Shawn began pleading for release. “Oh god, please, fuck, fuck, harder, oh fuck! C’mon, touch me, please, let me come, need to come, oh god, fuck fuck fuck.”
Carlton’s other hand meandered teasingly to Shawn’s cock. His fingers had barely wrapped around it when Shawn pushed his cock firmly into Carlton’s hand.
He stroked Shawn’s cock roughly and pushed into him even more roughly, shifting until he found the spot that made Shawn clench and scream.
And then Shawn was coming, spurts of come hitting their stomachs. He screamed all the way through his orgasm, tightening around Carlton’s cock and thrashing.
A few more thrusts, and Carlton was there, too, heat spreading through him and out of him. He collapsed bonelessly onto Shawn, who gave a little “oomf!” of protest. He nuzzled Shawn’s neck and sighed contentedly.
“Carly,” Shawn said, shifting. “You have the key to let me go, you’re sticky, I’m sticky, and you hate it when we fall asleep sticky. Like stick insects. You know, those weird bugs that look like sticks?”
Carlton sighed and got up. He freed Shawn, who rubbed his wrists absently before wrapping his arms around Carlton’s neck and pulling him in for a sloppy, sated kiss.