Elephant in the Room (1/2)
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Elephant in the Room
By Vescacus
He only started to think about it four months into the relationship. Often the detective would not be present by the time Shawn emerged to the land of the living at around ten thirty in the morning. But that didn’t matter. As Shawn half drowsily stretched, he knew that the coffee would be ready for him and all it required him for him to hit the switch; a note would be pinned to the fridge informing him of what time Carlton would be home, so Shawn could plan his day around that. The sheer domesticity of it all, the warm comforting feeling Shawn felt from those small actions normally had him panicking. He didn’t know why this should be any different.
When he turned his head towards Carlton’s side of the bed, however, his eyes always became drawn towards the glint of gold flashing from the nightstand. It reminded him that not everything was simple in this relationship. It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes he imagined that when Carlton woke up in the morning, he reached out to put it on but always restrained himself, remembering his present situation. He probably looked over at Shawn, still dead to the world, and remembered, possibly with a twinge, that this was his life now. Why was he always the one that got caught up in the middle of divorces?
The ring may just be sitting there gathering dust. However, it still sat on the nightstand in plain view, not tucked away in some drawer, out of sight and out of mind.
__
These were the evenings that Shawn loved most. Those unplanned times when Lassiter came home from work early - at about four o’clock - and they closed the curtains to stop the afternoon setting sun from shining too brightly on them, put on the TV and chilled for the remainder of the day. Shawn loved watching the progression of Lassiter’s state of comfort. Normally decked out in his usual work attire when he got in, he eventually lost the tie, had undone the top few buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves as sprawled out on the couch. By about six o’clock, Lassiter would be sitting with his scotch loosely in his hand, his arm stretched out beside him. Shawn loved the whole debonair look.
“I’m thinking,” Shawn said, looking up from his Spoiler TV Magazine as he leant against Carlton, “we get some take-out and watch some cop related TV. Of course, what TV we watch determines the take-out we get. There has to be a theme or else the night is wasted.”
Carlton frowned at the back of his head, where we had been absent minded pulling at the longer strands of the younger man’s hair. “Theme? Isn’t the theme supposed to be relaxation?”
“No, Lassie, it’s the relaxation which needs a theme, keep up! For example, if we watch Law and Order, we have to get Chinese. They’re constantly eating out of all the little Chinese boxes…”
Instantly, the detective shook his head and tugged a bit harder. “No. You know I despise Law and Order.”
Shawn turned around a grinned, Spoiler TV abandoned, crawling up so he was lying on the detective. This was in complete disregard for Carlton’s glass, which he just about salvaged in the nick of time and placed back on the table before Shawn’s hands were stroking up his face and neck. Instantly, he felt the detective’s arms encircle his waist, pulling him down further. “Oh poor Carlton,” Shawn murmured against his lips, “annoyed whenever the lawyers interfere with police work. Those piranhas of the justice system have no care for the hard working honest cops.”
“I think the term you’re looking for is sharks. And I don’t deny its accuracy,” Carlton admitted, “but that doesn’t mean I want it at home as well, I prefer my cop shows…as just cops. Lawyers are normally a pain in the ass and end up in my way.”
“Hill Street Blues and Thai Food it is then,” the younger man concluded with a nod. He pulled himself up off the detective and slapped him his arm repeatedly. “It’s your turn to get the menus and ring for the order. Come on, come on, off you go.”
Carlton groaned as he swung his legs to plant his feet on the ground, pick up his glass again and hoist himself up over to the stand by the door where all the menus were kept.
Shawn flopped back on the couch with a happy sigh, ignoring Carlton’s slight glare. He loved lounging in the detective’s apartment. For one, it was bigger. Secondly, it was tidier but that was Shawn’s fault rather than the apartment itself. Thirdly, it encompassed a warm homely feel which Shawn’s mismatched furniture and knick knacks failed to achieve. Even Carlton’s worn couch was bliss. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that sparse or cold as most people would have expected. There were a few arty pictures on the wall, a few decorative lamps and funny ornaments which Shawn had turned every which way to work exactly what they were. There were also a number of framed photographs dotted around. Some of them were of Carlton’s family but a considerable number were of himself with the former Mrs Victoria Lassiter. Ones on holiday, ones on picnics, a few candid photographs which were worth remembering…in the honeymoon period of the marriage. Shawn spotted them instantly the first time he entered Lassiter’s house and since then it had become disconcerting…because he could practically memorize every frozen moment.
“What was your divorce lawyer like, then?” Shawn asked quietly, flicking through the Thai menu.
“Hmm?” Carlton hummed without paying much attention.
“Your divorce lawyer. I’m assuming you had one. I highly doubt that she went quietly away with nothing.”
Carlton was silent. Even turned away from him, Shawn could read his body language: noticed him pause for a brief second before taking a sip of his scotch again and continue to hunt for the menus. In panic, Shawn dragged his eyes back to the Spoiler TV Magazine appearing as nonchalant as possible. The fear of having insulted Victoria as much as to offend Lassiter worried Shawn. Although the rational part of his brain argued that the notion was absurd, the subject of Victoria was still a delicate area which had to be trodden over lightly. Carlton Lassiter still acted personally if she spoken of in any negative manner, defended her until the end. So for a few moments, Lassiter didn’t speak.
“She was nice,” he finally said. “She was…understanding.” He sat back down on the couch, pulling Shawn against him and kissing his temple softly. “And no, Victoria didn’t get very much. She didn’t want very much. She didn’t…need very much from me by that point.”
Shawn looked around the apartment looking with new appreciation at
Funny, he thought. She took away his dignity but allowed him to keep all the other crap.
Shawn settled back down on the couch, his head resting in the other man’s lap, enjoying the feeling of Carlton’s hands playing with his hair. He kept his focus on Hill Street Blues whilst the detective ordered food, enjoying the returned feeling of relaxation between them. Yet it was difficult to pretend that the untouched pictures of Carlton and Victoria’s smiling faces, frozen moments of a life gone by, weren’t plastered around the living room to mock him. Hinting that there was no place for him on those walls in the same manner.
__
“Lassie kind of lied,” Shawn whispered as he and Gus sat on the couch in Carlton’s living room watching re-runs of Magnum P.I.
Gus, however, was not paying attention but shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t like this, Shawn. I know you’re sleeping with Lassiter and all but I don’t think he’d be too happy if he knew I came round to chill and watch his TV whilst he was at work.”
“Correction, Gus, watching his big ass TV. I mean, look at this thing!” he cried joyfully. “The screen is so big I can practically see every hair on Tom Selleck’s moustache. I couldn’t believe it when he brought it last weekend.” He chuckled and sat back on the couch. “Oh come on, Gus, stop being an overcooked marshmallow at a girl scout’s sleepover. Lassie won’t be back from work till about five. Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, Lassiter lied,” Gus grumbled, folding his arms like a child. “About what exactly?”
Shawn picked up a box from the floor and dumped it on his lap. “Lassie said to me that she-who-must-not-be-named didn’t really take all that much from him. But I found all this yesterday. Alimony cheques.”
“You’re snooping through his stuff, Shawn? Come on, that’s low. He’s your…boyfriend…not a crime suspect.”
“Gus, Gus, Gus, he knows me. If he didn’t want me to find this stuff, he would have hidden it somewhere more secret than his nightstand.” He put his feet up on Lassiter’s coffee table and sipped his smoothie as he shifted through papers, ignoring Gus’ look of rapprochement. “He’s been paying these for about two years now. The last one came through two months ago so obviously they’ve just finished. Which explains the big ass TV. Not huge sums of money but still. It’s only a cop’s salary.”
Gus looked at him when Shawn failed to continue. “Is this significant in any way? Or did you just feel the need to drag me into all aspects of yours and Lassiter’s lives? I didn’t realize you cared this much.”
Shawn shrugged. Understandably, Gus probably assumed he was still in his messing around phase. Shawn hadn’t exactly proven himself to be a long standing boyfriend to anybody. “I’m not prying. It just seems…unfair, don’t you think? Look, when we were investigating Irving Parker we found out he earns enough money to surely keep she-who-must-not-be named standing. She comes from a wealthy family. It just seems spiteful…you are separated for so long, you make someone’s life a misery then out of blue you just divorce them and take them for what they earn even though you have plenty yourself?”
“Stop being so naïve, Shawn, don’t you know anything about women and divorce? The woman will always manage to get some sort of alimony. Whether it’s money or a house or the barbeque set. Divorce is never really a clean break.”
Shawn was silent for a moment. “Mira never collected alimony from you.”
Gus snorted turning up the volume of the TV. “Yeah, luckily for me, Mira was a nice person. If you ask me, though, Lassiter is the kind of guy who would have offered alimony himself to the Dark Witch out of guilt or if it meant he could get her back.”
That was Gus, Shawn thought to himself, always there to make him feel better.
__
If there was anything in this relationship that Shawn would never give up, it was sex with Carlton Lassiter. Granted, Shawn was quite proficient in the art of sex but there was something different about this.
For one thing, Carlton was practised. He had been married before so he had devoted a fair number of years to pleasing a woman which even Shawn knew was a difficult and time consuming task to achieve. However, he knew exactly what a man would want out of sex as well. Although Shawn was eager and enthusiastic, and he knew Carlton loved that, the detective had a fair amount of restraint and patience. He knew exactly how to drag sex out into a longer and far more satisfying experience.
Carlton had no qualms pinning Shawn to the bed after he’d stripped him methodically and insisting he stay there. The younger man mewed and purred as Lassiter kissed him, moving from his lips to his neck and down to his collarbone, his tongue teasing the skin and teeth nipping occasionally. Never enough to leave marks because Carlton was too gentle for that. His hips pressed down as Shawn tried to arch up obviously desperate to get the ball rolling. Still Carlton kept him as still as possible, his tongue and teeth following his hands southwards, feeling every quiver in Shawn’s chest and tasting the sweat that began to form on his skin. And when Carlton’s mouth enclosed his cock, a shameful litany of curses exploded from him, which he noticed always made the older man smile with what looked like success.
Shawn would beg and plead all the way to being fucked. Carlton, however, was always patient, always kissing him fervently, attempting to calm him with soothing words whilst riling him up at the same time with his touches. It was at this moment that Shawn had always expected Carlton bolt; when the realization of what they were doing, even after five months, would hit him. But as he sank into the younger man and they both gasped at the sudden pressuring sensation, Shawn knew this was right for both them. And as Carlton continued to thrust into him, slowly at first, but gradually building the intensity like a spring coil, Shawn was thankful that his lover actually ignored his protests and bothered with the build-up. His nerve endings on fire, he would practically transport into another pleasurable world behind his eyes.
As Shawn gasped and opened his eyes suddenly, turning his head to the side as he attempted to catch his breath when Carlton hit another sensitive spot, his eyes once again fell on the ring. And deep down, Shawn knew that Carlton would have been just an excellent lover with Victoria as he was with him. He was so considerate, concerned least with the pleasure he received than pleasing his lover. It wasn’t the first time Shawn noticed either, that Carlton would always make sure Shawn was completely satisfied before finishing himself off. He would always ensure there was some form of foreplay, he would never leave marks on the skin and was more worried about hurting Shawn than anything else. Shawn just tore his eyes away from the ring as another wave of pleasure shuddered through him as Carlton hit that spot again. He surged up, sinking his hands into Carlton’s hair before grabbing onto lean shoulders and releasing a shameless guttural moan. And because he was drunk with adrenaline, his stomach tingling with warm excitement and head dizzy from euphoria, he didn’t pay attention to what he was saying most of the time. Whispered words tumbled out before he could stop them, breathed against Carlton’s lips claustrophobically in a desperate manner.
“I honestly don’t understand why she left you when you must have made her feel so good.”
And he could feel Lassiter pause at that. Shawn couldn’t read the expression on his boyfriend’s face…hurt, sadness, shock or understanding? He didn’t know why he said it but the atmosphere which Carlton had spent so long building up between them was rapidly disappearing. So he surged up to kiss Carlton, wrapping legs around his waist to pull him down further. With that, the detective seemed to forget the comment and continued thrusting, always encouraged by Shawn’s panted moans and begging of his name, increasing in pitch and volume. The whole world around him melted and he thrust back with helpless need to reach that release. And when he did, regardless of the sated state he was in, he would always open his eyes to watch Lassiter come apart above him too.
Shawn would lie debauched on the bed catching his breath whilst Carlton dealt with the aftermath of the evening: getting a washcloth to clean both of them up, putting all their haphazard clothes strewn on the floor in a folded and organized manner on the dresser and pulling off whatever clothes Shawn had been too impatient to remove - normally these were socks, which amused Carlton to no end.
“There’s more to an adult relationship than just sex, you know,” Lassiter commented sitting on the edge of the bed when he was finished.
“Really?” Shawn interjected in a high pitched lazy voice. “I would keep you just for the sex. And for your connection to the SBPD. But mostly, it’s the sex.”
Carlton raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at the psychic, still catching his breath. “You have no idea how much confidence that fills me with, Spencer.”
Shawn rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around Carlton from behind ever so slightly possessively, kissing the nape of his neck repeatedly. He couldn’t help the rush of relief tumbling through him when Carlton turned his head to kiss him back. “Okay, okay,” he assuaged with new confidence, “But I would still say that sex counts for a good 65% of any relationship.”
“65%, huh. Well, it’s a good thing you’re irresistible then. Or that you’re just insatiable and I’m not too old yet.” Carlton sighed and fell back into bed pulling Shawn against him. The younger man latched onto him like a limpet, resting his head on Carlton’s collarbone and wrapping an arm around him. For a few moments they were silent, with Carlton just tracing patterns with his fingers up and down Shawn’s arm, eliciting small comforted shivers. “If that’s the case, then Victoria left me because although I definitely reached my 65% sex quota, I was pretty much absent for the other 35% of our marriage.”
Sometimes, Shawn wished Carlton wouldn’t talk about her although it was normally he who would instigate the discussion. Victoria Lassiter appeared so much better in Shawn’s head when she embodied some evil wench who was a demanding, dominating and selfish nymphomaniac. It was becoming harder and harder to hate her when the more Shawn discovered about her, the more he realized and Carlton realized the failure of the relationship wasn’t entirely her fault. It was how much it haunted Carlton that also scared Shawn.
___
Shawn had toned down his impulsiveness since going steady with Carlton Lassiter. Gus acknowledged that at least one good thing came out of the bizarre relationship. However, Shawn could completely shed his impulsive ways. Whenever the opportunity presented himself, he would dive into whatever exciting act he could without thinking. He still acted out of the ordinary whenever helping out on cases, worked on roundabout angles, hopped into whatever scenario with whichever person would help him out. Only the other week he had helped out on a rodeo farm in order to help the Chief, Lassiter and Jules solve their latest case. But he didn’t put himself in as much danger as he used to. Carlton Lassiter was the opposite. He needed time to prepare something; he didn’t react on impulse or instinct unless it required shooting. Any sort of romantic sentiment had to be carefully thought out.
That afternoon, though, was different. After they had wrapped up the case which Carlton had been so immersed in for two weeks (but still resulted in the death of one mother and child) Shawn could see from where he was waiting by Jules’ table how run down he felt. And in an instant, he had come to a conclusion and was dragging Lassiter out the door of the SBPD. Carlton protested all the way to the car, bitching and moaning and at one point getting very irate, stating that all he wanted to do was just go home. And Shawn had simply joked the entire way, saying that it would be worth it.
After half an hour, though, Carlton was grudgingly silent, allowing Shawn to take him further and further away from home and northwards. When the younger man finally stopped, it was at a cliff edge. The sea stretched out before them further than the eye could possibly see, the little waves picked out by the reddish sun and rippling in front of them. Down below them, a few miles away, lay a barely distinguishable Santa Barbara. Out here, where the wind flapped around them and they were the only people for miles, they could escape the chaos instead of order of the police station and the criminals running amok.
“I used to bring loads of my first dates up here in the car hoping to score,” Shawn said. “But I also used it to get away from my dad when he was really pissing me off.”
Carlton made a humming sound and sat down on the grass slightly away from the cliff edge. “When I was younger I used to hang out down at the West Quay Ridge.” Shawn raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, during my slightly more…err…truant days.”
Shawn couldn’t help but smirk slightly. “Is that how you met Mrs Lassiter, then? You were the rough bad boy from town and she was the hot girl who lived off daddy’s money in the suburbs. And she was drawn to your badass demeanour. Was a bit Billy Joel Uptown Girl? Did you have a leather jacket? I bet you did.”
Carlton laughed but didn’t offer anymore information. Shawn took what he could, though. He would sell his soul a thousand times if Lassiter would laugh at least once a day. He didn’t want to overdo it; he didn’t want to spoil that giddy feeling he got inside when he heard Carlton’s lower chuckle sounding effortlessly through the air. He lay down beside Lassiter, staring at the slowly darkening sky and occasionally cloud watching. For a few minutes, it was peaceful. Sometimes, Shawn did know when to keep quiet.
“I use to do things like this all the time, you know,” Lassiter said calmly. Shawn looked at him, smiling slightly at the sight of Carlton with his shades on in the afternoon sun, hands behind his head as he lay back on the grass, taking in the calmness. “Occasionally I would take the time off work without much warning, grab Victoria and we would do things. Picnics, go up north slightly to go sailing, mountain biking. She loved it when I took her out because she got bored sitting and waiting at home. I used to be an active person, you know.”
Shawn paused. He hated the whimsical way Carlton would talk about Victoria not as if she was some distant memory but like it was only yesterday he used to do these things. There was a light air about his voice which Shawn rarely heard when they were in the station or at home. He obviously felt temporarily lifted from any burden when he thought about those times. And somewhere deep down it annoyed Shawn that Lassiter thought that those pastimes could be done with Victoria alone. Shawn sailed, he maintained biked occasionally and had been known to play a few rounds of tennis or squash. Shawn hated reading too much into words, into people’s expressions and their tone of voice. Because to him, it implied that those good times, which obviously made Carlton happy, couldn’t be achieved with him.
“She said I stopped being fun,” Carlton mused. “And I guess I did. I just didn’t notice at the time. I was more concerned with other things.” He reached over and grabbed Shawn’s hand tentatively, as if he expected the younger man to jerk away. “I don’t feel the need panic about this sort of thing with you because you’re different than her but the same. You’re both impulsive and so energetic. But you won’t kick up a fuss that I’m running late from work three times a week or because I sometimes don’t feel like doing anything on the weekend because I’m so tired…”
“Or caring that you getting in a grumpy mood because I forgot to clean the living room and kitchen again…”
Carlton smiled. “That too. When I’m stressed after a case, you won’t just leave me to sort myself out and disappear off with Gus because it’s easier than dealing with me.”
Shawn turned his head to look at Carlton, feeling the itchy grass getting stuck in his hair and tickling his cheek but he didn’t care. The slowly setting red sun cast a light over their faces that hid any awkwardness that may have coloured them. “Instead, you’ll bring me here and calm me down.”
Sometimes, Shawn wondered why he worried so much about this. Because times like this should be perfect. Instead, they were almost perfect with a hint of stomach ulcer-like anticipation.
TBC...In Part II
Elephant in the Room
By Vescacus
He only started to think about it four months into the relationship. Often the detective would not be present by the time Shawn emerged to the land of the living at around ten thirty in the morning. But that didn’t matter. As Shawn half drowsily stretched, he knew that the coffee would be ready for him and all it required him for him to hit the switch; a note would be pinned to the fridge informing him of what time Carlton would be home, so Shawn could plan his day around that. The sheer domesticity of it all, the warm comforting feeling Shawn felt from those small actions normally had him panicking. He didn’t know why this should be any different.
When he turned his head towards Carlton’s side of the bed, however, his eyes always became drawn towards the glint of gold flashing from the nightstand. It reminded him that not everything was simple in this relationship. It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes he imagined that when Carlton woke up in the morning, he reached out to put it on but always restrained himself, remembering his present situation. He probably looked over at Shawn, still dead to the world, and remembered, possibly with a twinge, that this was his life now. Why was he always the one that got caught up in the middle of divorces?
The ring may just be sitting there gathering dust. However, it still sat on the nightstand in plain view, not tucked away in some drawer, out of sight and out of mind.
__
These were the evenings that Shawn loved most. Those unplanned times when Lassiter came home from work early - at about four o’clock - and they closed the curtains to stop the afternoon setting sun from shining too brightly on them, put on the TV and chilled for the remainder of the day. Shawn loved watching the progression of Lassiter’s state of comfort. Normally decked out in his usual work attire when he got in, he eventually lost the tie, had undone the top few buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves as sprawled out on the couch. By about six o’clock, Lassiter would be sitting with his scotch loosely in his hand, his arm stretched out beside him. Shawn loved the whole debonair look.
“I’m thinking,” Shawn said, looking up from his Spoiler TV Magazine as he leant against Carlton, “we get some take-out and watch some cop related TV. Of course, what TV we watch determines the take-out we get. There has to be a theme or else the night is wasted.”
Carlton frowned at the back of his head, where we had been absent minded pulling at the longer strands of the younger man’s hair. “Theme? Isn’t the theme supposed to be relaxation?”
“No, Lassie, it’s the relaxation which needs a theme, keep up! For example, if we watch Law and Order, we have to get Chinese. They’re constantly eating out of all the little Chinese boxes…”
Instantly, the detective shook his head and tugged a bit harder. “No. You know I despise Law and Order.”
Shawn turned around a grinned, Spoiler TV abandoned, crawling up so he was lying on the detective. This was in complete disregard for Carlton’s glass, which he just about salvaged in the nick of time and placed back on the table before Shawn’s hands were stroking up his face and neck. Instantly, he felt the detective’s arms encircle his waist, pulling him down further. “Oh poor Carlton,” Shawn murmured against his lips, “annoyed whenever the lawyers interfere with police work. Those piranhas of the justice system have no care for the hard working honest cops.”
“I think the term you’re looking for is sharks. And I don’t deny its accuracy,” Carlton admitted, “but that doesn’t mean I want it at home as well, I prefer my cop shows…as just cops. Lawyers are normally a pain in the ass and end up in my way.”
“Hill Street Blues and Thai Food it is then,” the younger man concluded with a nod. He pulled himself up off the detective and slapped him his arm repeatedly. “It’s your turn to get the menus and ring for the order. Come on, come on, off you go.”
Carlton groaned as he swung his legs to plant his feet on the ground, pick up his glass again and hoist himself up over to the stand by the door where all the menus were kept.
Shawn flopped back on the couch with a happy sigh, ignoring Carlton’s slight glare. He loved lounging in the detective’s apartment. For one, it was bigger. Secondly, it was tidier but that was Shawn’s fault rather than the apartment itself. Thirdly, it encompassed a warm homely feel which Shawn’s mismatched furniture and knick knacks failed to achieve. Even Carlton’s worn couch was bliss. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that sparse or cold as most people would have expected. There were a few arty pictures on the wall, a few decorative lamps and funny ornaments which Shawn had turned every which way to work exactly what they were. There were also a number of framed photographs dotted around. Some of them were of Carlton’s family but a considerable number were of himself with the former Mrs Victoria Lassiter. Ones on holiday, ones on picnics, a few candid photographs which were worth remembering…in the honeymoon period of the marriage. Shawn spotted them instantly the first time he entered Lassiter’s house and since then it had become disconcerting…because he could practically memorize every frozen moment.
“What was your divorce lawyer like, then?” Shawn asked quietly, flicking through the Thai menu.
“Hmm?” Carlton hummed without paying much attention.
“Your divorce lawyer. I’m assuming you had one. I highly doubt that she went quietly away with nothing.”
Carlton was silent. Even turned away from him, Shawn could read his body language: noticed him pause for a brief second before taking a sip of his scotch again and continue to hunt for the menus. In panic, Shawn dragged his eyes back to the Spoiler TV Magazine appearing as nonchalant as possible. The fear of having insulted Victoria as much as to offend Lassiter worried Shawn. Although the rational part of his brain argued that the notion was absurd, the subject of Victoria was still a delicate area which had to be trodden over lightly. Carlton Lassiter still acted personally if she spoken of in any negative manner, defended her until the end. So for a few moments, Lassiter didn’t speak.
“She was nice,” he finally said. “She was…understanding.” He sat back down on the couch, pulling Shawn against him and kissing his temple softly. “And no, Victoria didn’t get very much. She didn’t want very much. She didn’t…need very much from me by that point.”
Shawn looked around the apartment looking with new appreciation at
Funny, he thought. She took away his dignity but allowed him to keep all the other crap.
Shawn settled back down on the couch, his head resting in the other man’s lap, enjoying the feeling of Carlton’s hands playing with his hair. He kept his focus on Hill Street Blues whilst the detective ordered food, enjoying the returned feeling of relaxation between them. Yet it was difficult to pretend that the untouched pictures of Carlton and Victoria’s smiling faces, frozen moments of a life gone by, weren’t plastered around the living room to mock him. Hinting that there was no place for him on those walls in the same manner.
__
“Lassie kind of lied,” Shawn whispered as he and Gus sat on the couch in Carlton’s living room watching re-runs of Magnum P.I.
Gus, however, was not paying attention but shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t like this, Shawn. I know you’re sleeping with Lassiter and all but I don’t think he’d be too happy if he knew I came round to chill and watch his TV whilst he was at work.”
“Correction, Gus, watching his big ass TV. I mean, look at this thing!” he cried joyfully. “The screen is so big I can practically see every hair on Tom Selleck’s moustache. I couldn’t believe it when he brought it last weekend.” He chuckled and sat back on the couch. “Oh come on, Gus, stop being an overcooked marshmallow at a girl scout’s sleepover. Lassie won’t be back from work till about five. Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, Lassiter lied,” Gus grumbled, folding his arms like a child. “About what exactly?”
Shawn picked up a box from the floor and dumped it on his lap. “Lassie said to me that she-who-must-not-be-named didn’t really take all that much from him. But I found all this yesterday. Alimony cheques.”
“You’re snooping through his stuff, Shawn? Come on, that’s low. He’s your…boyfriend…not a crime suspect.”
“Gus, Gus, Gus, he knows me. If he didn’t want me to find this stuff, he would have hidden it somewhere more secret than his nightstand.” He put his feet up on Lassiter’s coffee table and sipped his smoothie as he shifted through papers, ignoring Gus’ look of rapprochement. “He’s been paying these for about two years now. The last one came through two months ago so obviously they’ve just finished. Which explains the big ass TV. Not huge sums of money but still. It’s only a cop’s salary.”
Gus looked at him when Shawn failed to continue. “Is this significant in any way? Or did you just feel the need to drag me into all aspects of yours and Lassiter’s lives? I didn’t realize you cared this much.”
Shawn shrugged. Understandably, Gus probably assumed he was still in his messing around phase. Shawn hadn’t exactly proven himself to be a long standing boyfriend to anybody. “I’m not prying. It just seems…unfair, don’t you think? Look, when we were investigating Irving Parker we found out he earns enough money to surely keep she-who-must-not-be named standing. She comes from a wealthy family. It just seems spiteful…you are separated for so long, you make someone’s life a misery then out of blue you just divorce them and take them for what they earn even though you have plenty yourself?”
“Stop being so naïve, Shawn, don’t you know anything about women and divorce? The woman will always manage to get some sort of alimony. Whether it’s money or a house or the barbeque set. Divorce is never really a clean break.”
Shawn was silent for a moment. “Mira never collected alimony from you.”
Gus snorted turning up the volume of the TV. “Yeah, luckily for me, Mira was a nice person. If you ask me, though, Lassiter is the kind of guy who would have offered alimony himself to the Dark Witch out of guilt or if it meant he could get her back.”
That was Gus, Shawn thought to himself, always there to make him feel better.
__
If there was anything in this relationship that Shawn would never give up, it was sex with Carlton Lassiter. Granted, Shawn was quite proficient in the art of sex but there was something different about this.
For one thing, Carlton was practised. He had been married before so he had devoted a fair number of years to pleasing a woman which even Shawn knew was a difficult and time consuming task to achieve. However, he knew exactly what a man would want out of sex as well. Although Shawn was eager and enthusiastic, and he knew Carlton loved that, the detective had a fair amount of restraint and patience. He knew exactly how to drag sex out into a longer and far more satisfying experience.
Carlton had no qualms pinning Shawn to the bed after he’d stripped him methodically and insisting he stay there. The younger man mewed and purred as Lassiter kissed him, moving from his lips to his neck and down to his collarbone, his tongue teasing the skin and teeth nipping occasionally. Never enough to leave marks because Carlton was too gentle for that. His hips pressed down as Shawn tried to arch up obviously desperate to get the ball rolling. Still Carlton kept him as still as possible, his tongue and teeth following his hands southwards, feeling every quiver in Shawn’s chest and tasting the sweat that began to form on his skin. And when Carlton’s mouth enclosed his cock, a shameful litany of curses exploded from him, which he noticed always made the older man smile with what looked like success.
Shawn would beg and plead all the way to being fucked. Carlton, however, was always patient, always kissing him fervently, attempting to calm him with soothing words whilst riling him up at the same time with his touches. It was at this moment that Shawn had always expected Carlton bolt; when the realization of what they were doing, even after five months, would hit him. But as he sank into the younger man and they both gasped at the sudden pressuring sensation, Shawn knew this was right for both them. And as Carlton continued to thrust into him, slowly at first, but gradually building the intensity like a spring coil, Shawn was thankful that his lover actually ignored his protests and bothered with the build-up. His nerve endings on fire, he would practically transport into another pleasurable world behind his eyes.
As Shawn gasped and opened his eyes suddenly, turning his head to the side as he attempted to catch his breath when Carlton hit another sensitive spot, his eyes once again fell on the ring. And deep down, Shawn knew that Carlton would have been just an excellent lover with Victoria as he was with him. He was so considerate, concerned least with the pleasure he received than pleasing his lover. It wasn’t the first time Shawn noticed either, that Carlton would always make sure Shawn was completely satisfied before finishing himself off. He would always ensure there was some form of foreplay, he would never leave marks on the skin and was more worried about hurting Shawn than anything else. Shawn just tore his eyes away from the ring as another wave of pleasure shuddered through him as Carlton hit that spot again. He surged up, sinking his hands into Carlton’s hair before grabbing onto lean shoulders and releasing a shameless guttural moan. And because he was drunk with adrenaline, his stomach tingling with warm excitement and head dizzy from euphoria, he didn’t pay attention to what he was saying most of the time. Whispered words tumbled out before he could stop them, breathed against Carlton’s lips claustrophobically in a desperate manner.
“I honestly don’t understand why she left you when you must have made her feel so good.”
And he could feel Lassiter pause at that. Shawn couldn’t read the expression on his boyfriend’s face…hurt, sadness, shock or understanding? He didn’t know why he said it but the atmosphere which Carlton had spent so long building up between them was rapidly disappearing. So he surged up to kiss Carlton, wrapping legs around his waist to pull him down further. With that, the detective seemed to forget the comment and continued thrusting, always encouraged by Shawn’s panted moans and begging of his name, increasing in pitch and volume. The whole world around him melted and he thrust back with helpless need to reach that release. And when he did, regardless of the sated state he was in, he would always open his eyes to watch Lassiter come apart above him too.
Shawn would lie debauched on the bed catching his breath whilst Carlton dealt with the aftermath of the evening: getting a washcloth to clean both of them up, putting all their haphazard clothes strewn on the floor in a folded and organized manner on the dresser and pulling off whatever clothes Shawn had been too impatient to remove - normally these were socks, which amused Carlton to no end.
“There’s more to an adult relationship than just sex, you know,” Lassiter commented sitting on the edge of the bed when he was finished.
“Really?” Shawn interjected in a high pitched lazy voice. “I would keep you just for the sex. And for your connection to the SBPD. But mostly, it’s the sex.”
Carlton raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at the psychic, still catching his breath. “You have no idea how much confidence that fills me with, Spencer.”
Shawn rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around Carlton from behind ever so slightly possessively, kissing the nape of his neck repeatedly. He couldn’t help the rush of relief tumbling through him when Carlton turned his head to kiss him back. “Okay, okay,” he assuaged with new confidence, “But I would still say that sex counts for a good 65% of any relationship.”
“65%, huh. Well, it’s a good thing you’re irresistible then. Or that you’re just insatiable and I’m not too old yet.” Carlton sighed and fell back into bed pulling Shawn against him. The younger man latched onto him like a limpet, resting his head on Carlton’s collarbone and wrapping an arm around him. For a few moments they were silent, with Carlton just tracing patterns with his fingers up and down Shawn’s arm, eliciting small comforted shivers. “If that’s the case, then Victoria left me because although I definitely reached my 65% sex quota, I was pretty much absent for the other 35% of our marriage.”
Sometimes, Shawn wished Carlton wouldn’t talk about her although it was normally he who would instigate the discussion. Victoria Lassiter appeared so much better in Shawn’s head when she embodied some evil wench who was a demanding, dominating and selfish nymphomaniac. It was becoming harder and harder to hate her when the more Shawn discovered about her, the more he realized and Carlton realized the failure of the relationship wasn’t entirely her fault. It was how much it haunted Carlton that also scared Shawn.
___
Shawn had toned down his impulsiveness since going steady with Carlton Lassiter. Gus acknowledged that at least one good thing came out of the bizarre relationship. However, Shawn could completely shed his impulsive ways. Whenever the opportunity presented himself, he would dive into whatever exciting act he could without thinking. He still acted out of the ordinary whenever helping out on cases, worked on roundabout angles, hopped into whatever scenario with whichever person would help him out. Only the other week he had helped out on a rodeo farm in order to help the Chief, Lassiter and Jules solve their latest case. But he didn’t put himself in as much danger as he used to. Carlton Lassiter was the opposite. He needed time to prepare something; he didn’t react on impulse or instinct unless it required shooting. Any sort of romantic sentiment had to be carefully thought out.
That afternoon, though, was different. After they had wrapped up the case which Carlton had been so immersed in for two weeks (but still resulted in the death of one mother and child) Shawn could see from where he was waiting by Jules’ table how run down he felt. And in an instant, he had come to a conclusion and was dragging Lassiter out the door of the SBPD. Carlton protested all the way to the car, bitching and moaning and at one point getting very irate, stating that all he wanted to do was just go home. And Shawn had simply joked the entire way, saying that it would be worth it.
After half an hour, though, Carlton was grudgingly silent, allowing Shawn to take him further and further away from home and northwards. When the younger man finally stopped, it was at a cliff edge. The sea stretched out before them further than the eye could possibly see, the little waves picked out by the reddish sun and rippling in front of them. Down below them, a few miles away, lay a barely distinguishable Santa Barbara. Out here, where the wind flapped around them and they were the only people for miles, they could escape the chaos instead of order of the police station and the criminals running amok.
“I used to bring loads of my first dates up here in the car hoping to score,” Shawn said. “But I also used it to get away from my dad when he was really pissing me off.”
Carlton made a humming sound and sat down on the grass slightly away from the cliff edge. “When I was younger I used to hang out down at the West Quay Ridge.” Shawn raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, during my slightly more…err…truant days.”
Shawn couldn’t help but smirk slightly. “Is that how you met Mrs Lassiter, then? You were the rough bad boy from town and she was the hot girl who lived off daddy’s money in the suburbs. And she was drawn to your badass demeanour. Was a bit Billy Joel Uptown Girl? Did you have a leather jacket? I bet you did.”
Carlton laughed but didn’t offer anymore information. Shawn took what he could, though. He would sell his soul a thousand times if Lassiter would laugh at least once a day. He didn’t want to overdo it; he didn’t want to spoil that giddy feeling he got inside when he heard Carlton’s lower chuckle sounding effortlessly through the air. He lay down beside Lassiter, staring at the slowly darkening sky and occasionally cloud watching. For a few minutes, it was peaceful. Sometimes, Shawn did know when to keep quiet.
“I use to do things like this all the time, you know,” Lassiter said calmly. Shawn looked at him, smiling slightly at the sight of Carlton with his shades on in the afternoon sun, hands behind his head as he lay back on the grass, taking in the calmness. “Occasionally I would take the time off work without much warning, grab Victoria and we would do things. Picnics, go up north slightly to go sailing, mountain biking. She loved it when I took her out because she got bored sitting and waiting at home. I used to be an active person, you know.”
Shawn paused. He hated the whimsical way Carlton would talk about Victoria not as if she was some distant memory but like it was only yesterday he used to do these things. There was a light air about his voice which Shawn rarely heard when they were in the station or at home. He obviously felt temporarily lifted from any burden when he thought about those times. And somewhere deep down it annoyed Shawn that Lassiter thought that those pastimes could be done with Victoria alone. Shawn sailed, he maintained biked occasionally and had been known to play a few rounds of tennis or squash. Shawn hated reading too much into words, into people’s expressions and their tone of voice. Because to him, it implied that those good times, which obviously made Carlton happy, couldn’t be achieved with him.
“She said I stopped being fun,” Carlton mused. “And I guess I did. I just didn’t notice at the time. I was more concerned with other things.” He reached over and grabbed Shawn’s hand tentatively, as if he expected the younger man to jerk away. “I don’t feel the need panic about this sort of thing with you because you’re different than her but the same. You’re both impulsive and so energetic. But you won’t kick up a fuss that I’m running late from work three times a week or because I sometimes don’t feel like doing anything on the weekend because I’m so tired…”
“Or caring that you getting in a grumpy mood because I forgot to clean the living room and kitchen again…”
Carlton smiled. “That too. When I’m stressed after a case, you won’t just leave me to sort myself out and disappear off with Gus because it’s easier than dealing with me.”
Shawn turned his head to look at Carlton, feeling the itchy grass getting stuck in his hair and tickling his cheek but he didn’t care. The slowly setting red sun cast a light over their faces that hid any awkwardness that may have coloured them. “Instead, you’ll bring me here and calm me down.”
Sometimes, Shawn wondered why he worried so much about this. Because times like this should be perfect. Instead, they were almost perfect with a hint of stomach ulcer-like anticipation.
TBC...In Part II