Loz (lozenger8) wrote,

Far Too Young and Clever...

Title: Far Too Young and Clever
Fandom: Psych
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,500 words
Notes: Shawn/Gus, pretty much of the fluffy PWP variety. There's a very obvious nod to Futurama in this story (as opposed to all those other times where I pretend to be subtle.) Title from the song 'Come on, Eileen.'
Summary: He and Shawn were naked in bed together and they'd done stuff. Intimate, heart-rate increasing, hands in places stuff. Stuff Gus had only ever briefly entertained doing with Shawn before, and even then, had dismissed out of hand because it would make everything too complex.

Gus didn't know how long he'd been asleep when the first stream of daylight hit him in the face. He figured he'd been in the same position for a while, because his shoulder was numb with his arm squashed tight to his side, slightly aching. He rolled over and came chest to face with the reason, at which point a blush that couldn't be seen in the soft light or against his skin tone crept up his neck and over his cheeks. He and Shawn were naked in bed together and they'd done stuff. Intimate, heart-rate increasing, hands in places stuff. Stuff Gus had only ever briefly entertained doing with Shawn before, and even then, had dismissed out of hand because it would make everything too complex. So complex that his vocabulary would end up rivalling that of a ten year old child, because 'stuff' was not a wholly appropriate description for the actions they had taken. There were no words that adequately described some of those movements.

There was a brief moment of confusion. How had this happened? What had gotten them to this point? Had he lost his damn mind? Then Shawn shifted in his sleep, pelvis thrusting forward, and Gus remembered.

It had started with Shawn buying tickets to the second Dexy's Midnight Runners reunion tour. He said he'd been devastated when he'd missed out on the first because, as he said it, in 2003 he'd been on his own tour visiting landmarks of ginormous proportions worldwide --- the world's largest ball of twine in Cawker City, the Big Pineapple in Woombye, the largest standing cuckoo clock in Kimberley. He had lost a platinum opportunity, but now he had the chance to fulfill a lifelong dream!

It didn't matter that Shawn really only liked one of the band's songs, or that it would require vast amounts of cash when he and Gus should actually be saving the money they had. It didn't matter that Gus had severe misgivings visiting another country with Shawn after Canada. Shawn was depressed after his break-up with Abigail and had a talent for not listening to a word Gus said at the best of times. Gus had agreed so long as he was allowed to plan everything meticulously, which he did, because he was nothing if not efficient. But he hadn't factored in the wild card --- Shawn not even coming close to following the plan.

Naturally, they'd gotten lost somewhere between Leeds and Hull (which, as far as Gus was concerned, was only a letter away from 'hell' for a reason, arriving there the third day of their vacation had been eye-opening. In the bad way.) And Shawn had pissed everyone off by imitating their accents, badly, which only compounded the fact Gus didn't understand what most people were saying most of the time. They'd ended up in the last vacant room of a Travelodge that may or may not have been called Little Chef, with food that was inedible, and Gus refused to sleep on the trundle bed thing, but Shawn did too, so they were on the Queen with spare pillows acting as a barrier between them. They were in a foreign land, surrounded by foreign people, and they'd missed the concert they'd come for.

Gus had said something like, "I knew you'd do this to me, Shawn."

And Shawn had said, "Calm down, buddy. We'll find our bearings tomorrow. In the meantime, it's cold, wanna snuggle wuggle?"

Then Gus had used one of the barrier pillows to hit Shawn upside the head. And Shawn had begun little kicking motions. They'd exchanged slaps and punches until they'd eventually fallen off the bed onto the hard wood floor, Shawn sprawled atop Gus, legs akimbo. Which is when things had gotten weird.

Instead of climbing off and celebrating his victory, Shawn had stared down at Gus, eyes widening. Gus hadn't been able to breathe properly and initially attributed it to the weight on his chest, before he realised his heart was thumping insanely loudly in his ears, his tongue was dry and too large for his mouth. They'd stayed like that for at least twenty-nine seconds. And then Shawn had kissed Gus. Just like that. As if it was something he did every day. Shawn had kissed him and he'd kissed back because, because --- it was the because part Gus was still trying to figure out.

Gus was startled out of his reverie by Shawn murmuring. Shawn often had entire conversations in his sleep, Gus knew this because he'd had Shawn as a couch-visitor on the numerous occasions he'd been evicted or 'between apartments', not to mention the years of camps and sleep-overs. Gus had been witness to some startling single-sided discussions over the years, from 'Garfield is a lame excuse for a comic', to 'One day I'm gonna bungee skydive and they'll see, they'll all see.' But this time Shawn was also stretching forward, hands grasping the air, and Gus felt sure Shawn was going to mutter, "Abigail?", but he didn't. He muttered, "Gus?"

Shawn's eyes opened and he gave a soft smile. "Hey."


"Did you have sweet dreams?"


Shawn rubbed a hand down his chest, the contact still surprising even after everything they'd done. "Feeling kinda monosyllabic, I see."

"'Hello' is two syllables, Shawn."

"I know. Hence the 'kinda'."

Gus wondered if he should be rolling out of bed, now, but it was warm beneath the covers and he thought Shawn should be the one to make the first move. After all, they would never be in this mess ---- both literal and figurative --- if it weren't for him. Shawn continued to stare at him disconcertingly.

"You're not freaking out on me, are you, Gus?" He asked, voice an indecently arousing husk due in no doubt to some of the noises he'd made when they'd --- well, done what they'd done.

"No, I am not freaking out."

"Good, because I wouldn't want you to ruin this tender moment through unfounded fear."

"Fear of what, exactly?"

"These new developments in our relationship, how we're going to find out where to go next on this excellent adventure, whether or not there are bed bugs or if they do indeed bite."

"And these would be unfounded, how?"

"Well, I can't speak on behalf of the possibly imaginary bed bugs..." Shawn trailed off, closing his mouth with a snap that said more than words could.

Gus still didn't move. He thought he should desperately want to, but it seemed his body was a lot more comfortable with all of this than his mind was. One of his hands was tangling into Shawn's hair, fingertips rubbing against his scalp. The other had settled on his hip. An instinctive part of him knew exactly what it wanted.

"Maybe I'm a little bit fearful," Gus admitted, thinking Shawn would likely ridicule him by saying there was absolutely no need, the bed bugs were probably more afraid of them. But once again, Shawn didn't behave predictably.

"Me too," he said, that strange mixture of earnest and apologetic he usually kept hidden.

Gus was somewhat mollified. If Shawn had known, worse yet, if he had planned everything, he'd feel cheated, like he was the butt of some gigantic cosmic joke. And Gus was a lot of things, but a butt was not one. Since they appeared to have an even stake on the confusion, however, it seemed fair.

Shawn continued speaking. "I never expected this. I mean, there've been times when... you remember ninth grade, beneath the palm tree by Sandi Hardison's pool?"

"You said you needed to practice your CPR technique to become a volunteer lifeguard."

"I lied."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Shawn licked his lips. "I seem to recall you didn't say anything at the time."

"I didn't know what was happening."

"Once again, me too."

"You mean 'neither'."

"That's not important, what's important is..."

Shawn leaned forward and kissed him tentatively and like before, Gus did not shy away from the kiss. He returned it with vigour, shivering slightly as he slid a leg between Shawn's, their inner thighs brushing against each other. Shawn was a good kisser, if not a little overenthusiastic, licking and delving at speeds Gus had heretofore never been accustomed to. Gus' body started to heat up, his hips moving of their own accord, breathing became harder again, and he did not care about anything except getting as much of his skin in contact with Shawn's as possible.

Shawn pulled away after several minutes, easing himself back so that he was right to the edge of the bed. "Are you sure about this?"

"It's a little late to be asking now, don't you think?"

"No. We can pretend it was a moment of ocean madness."

"We're not in, on, or even that near the ocean, as far as I can tell."

"No one else needs to know that."

"We'd just be fooling ourselves, wouldn't we? We wouldn't have to say a thing. We could act like it never happened."

"Never happened? Really? Harsh! You wound me. At least I'm admitting we had a thing."

Gus knew he shouldn't take the bait, he should remain calm and collected and pretend he heard nothing. He shuffled forward and whacked Shawn. "Because we were deluded!"

"I never said that. I said mad. They're different."

Gus hit Shawn again, but gently, it was really more of a tap. "You're different."

"What are you? Twelve years old?"

"Yes, yes I am. When I'm with you, I'm twelve years old."

Shawn's eyes crinkled at the corners. "You're advanced for a twelve year old. Sexually and whatnot."

Gus had wriggled so close they were both now in peril of toppling off the side of the bed. He grabbed hold of Shawn and rolled onto his back simultaneously, smiling with satisfaction when one small movement meant that Shawn was straddling his waist, hands pressed to his chest.

"So you're serious about this?" Shawn asked again. "Because you know I'm not a by halves kind of man and I'd hate to think you'll wake up one day and wonder what you're doing in a dead-end job when you used to be an awesome dancing basketball star, before a strange janitor goes all spirit guide on you and sends you back to high school as a teen."

"That's 17 Again."

"Zee Eee is so dreamy, can you really blame my confusion?"


Shawn took the hint, obviously doing his best to appear sincere and succeeding admirably. In fact, he was sincere, almost frightened, his Adam's apple bobbing his throat and his skin noticeably paler in the early morning light.

"Gus, I need to know you're with me on this, or we stop now and we never look back."

Gus had a moment of indecision. It would be easy to take the way out so generously offered, wilful ignorance and amnesia combined to smooth over complications. But that would be letting himself be ruled by terror, it would be weak, it would be the highest form of denial. Except, maybe this was Shawn's escape? Perhaps he wanted Gus to take the easy option?

"Are you feeling overwhelmed?" Gus asked, stroking his left thumb against Shawn's hip-bone. Shawn shook his head. "Underwhelmed?"

"I'm whelmed. I'm totally whelmed. I'm just --- I wanna be positive you are too. I don't think I could give you up, not if we let it get too far."






Gus wrapped his hands around and pushed insistently on Shawn's back so he'd feel pressured into leaning forward. He arched up at the same time, capturing Shawn in a kiss that was deliberately slow, tilting his head so he had more access. They could talk about it, analyse every little detail, but the fact was things had changed between them and Gus was --- he was glad. Surprised, but happy. Kind of embarrassed and confused, with a small hint of panic, but unwilling to let it faze him so much he was going to squander what Shawn would term a platinum opportunity.

The kiss deepened and Shawn wriggled back until Gus' cock was nestled between his thighs. He wrapped his hand around Gus, tight, but not too firm, stroking up, then down again. Gus hardened under his touch, a hushed moan escaping his lips. Shawn moved erratically, never keeping the same pace, teasing as he alternated between quick and frantic, and slow and measured. He never let Gus buck up, using all of his weight to keep him pinned, calves tight on the outside of Gus' thighs, knees digging in near his hips. After several minutes, Shawn shifted further so that their cocks were aligned, using both of his hands to increase the friction as he slid up and down.

Gus watched through heavy-lidded eyes as beads of sweat gathered on Shawn's brow, any thought more complex than good, crazy good evaporating in the chill morning air. Shawn sped up until he was so close, so almost very nearly there, and made this needy little sound that completely destroyed any and all willpower Gus had.

"Okay," Shawn said --- which had Gus immediately wondering how and why he would do such a thing. "Wait for it. Wait for it..."

Gus couldn't wait, not even for a short while. He came, muscles he didn't usually think about tensing and upper body quaking. Come landed on his abdomen and it took him several long moments to realise it was his, that Shawn was still stroking himself to completion. When Shawn finally collapsed on top of him, coming suddenly and loudly, Gus was mentally drawing up all of the times they could have been doing this before their ill-fated yet ultimately awe-inspiring journey. He'd gotten to at least ninety-six, within a single month. Shawn looked amazing, hair mussed, eyes screwed shut, head lolling back, and Gus knew he'd only just come, that his reaction should not be an immediate urge to wrap Shawn in his arms and ravish him, but his body was once again acting of its own accord. He pulled Shawn into an embrace that would be difficult to evade.

"Next time, you're actually gonna let me do more than lie here, right, Shawn?" Gus asked after Shawn had fidgeted enough that it was obvious he wasn't going straight to sleep. Gus relaxed his hold, but Shawn didn't wiggle away so much as nestle closer.

"Maybe. I haven't yet decided. I do like that there's going to be a next time."

"Me too."

"You mean 'neither.'"

"No, I don't." Gus stretched his legs, feeling a yawn coming on. "Please promise me you're not gonna spend the day insulting people far and wide. We still have to figure out where we are."

"We're right where we need to be," Shawn returned, grinning infectiously.

Gus contemplated this, gave serious consideration to disagreeing, but smiled back instead. "You know that's right."

Tags: humour, psych, rated nc-17, short, writing

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