Psych: Interventions and Other Ploys
Jul. 30th, 2008 11:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tuesdayficarchivedTitle: Interventions and Other Ploys
Fandom: Psych
Pairing: Gus/Shawn
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 1183
Summary/Notes: Gus stages an intervention. Written for Porn Battle VI, though much less like porn than originally intended. Included in full here, but there's an excerpt at the porn battle. Written for the prompt cockblock, though it can also apply to jealousy.
After the seventh girl Shawn dated tried to kill him (this one with a pitchfork. A pitchfork), Gus staged an intervention.
"You're right," Shawn agreed, because he still had a concussion and Gus was making those sad eyes and had brought pineapple upside down cake that he was holding just out of Shawn's reach. "It's a problem. I need to be stopped."
"I'm not joking, Shawn," Gus said, and his eyes were still way too big for a grown man staring down his best friend. Shawn considered standing on the hospital bed to gain a few feet. Gus was using his extra millimeters (maybe centimeters, but definitely not inches) in an unfair advantage.
"Of course you aren't," Shawn said and waved his hand for the cake again. "I totally agree with you." Gus looked doubtful, taking a step back. Shawn stepped forward, bumping their bodies together. "That cake is for me, right? You wouldn't bring a cake just to taunt me with it, would you?"
"My mom baked this cake," Gus said, still keeping the cake to himself. Hadn't Gus learned to share in kindergarten with everyone else?
"Dude! Your mom likes me enough to make me food now?" Getting hospitalized by a hot co-ed turned crazed murderer was totally worth it.
"She baked it at my request," Gus said, which still made Shawn feel all warm and fuzzy inside, so it wasn't that hard to swear off women until he had healed from all of his injuries and Gus hadn't had to step foot in a hospital again for at least six months.
It was more difficult two months later when the pineapple upside down cake was only a fond memory and Gus was now stalking Shawn. Sure, Gus wasn't as stealth as Shawn and was sadly easy to lose, but the fun of playing their strange new game of hide 'n seek wasn't as fun when Gus kept finding him, usually in the middle of dessert. Gus might not have been stealth, but he knew Shawn so well that he didn't need to be, and his blatant mistruths were killing all future chances of dates.
"He's wanted in a murder investigation," Gus told Karen, gripping Shawn's shoulder.
"Tax evasion," he told Kathy, fingers firm around Shawn's wrist.
"Late on child payments."
"Violated parole."
"Stalker case."
"Just wanted to let him know that his tests came back positive for syphilis."
The date offers tapered off, and the last-minute cancellations increased. After a little aimless googling one slow day at the office, Shawn discovered he had several entries on Don't Date Him, Girl, complete with pictures--and only a third of the entries were by obvious Gus sockpuppets.
"'Charming, handsome, and a complete loser,'" Shawn read aloud. "'Shawn Spencer is a seeming catch, but his silly hair'--silly hair? My hair isn't silly. This takes effort, Gus, and several minutes to style every morning."
Gus barely glanced over from his paper. "I don't know what you're talking about and I don't care."
"'His silly hair and boyish smile conceal inept social manners and a tendency to underperform in be'--You're taking shots at my sexual performance now? That is harsh, Gus, and patently untrue. I am amazing in bed. Also, what's this about 'His best friend will kill you' and this comment that calls you my 'suspected gay lover'?"
"What? I didn't write those." That wasn't Gus's lying voice, but it was his something to hide and extremely embarrassed voice. He was still half-buried in the paper, holding it in front of him like a flimsy shield.
Several pieces slotted together for Shawn: Gus's palm warm through the cotton of Shawn's shirt as he interrupted Shawn's first date. That fleeting look that passed Gus's face--half fond, half rueful--as Shawn left him stuck in the clutches of a horde of holiday shoppers who believed he had the last Dark Knight action figure. The way Gus had leaned in before he'd backed away when brandishing the pineapple cake just out of Shawn's reach.
"Oh my God, you're jealous."
"I am not!" And there was Gus's lying voice.
Shawn didn't fight the silly grin he felt spreading across his face. "You are totally jealous."
"That's absurd!"
Shawn rolled his chair across the room to Gus's place on the couch and shoved the paper down so Gus would look at him. The paper maybe got a little rumpled in the process.
"Shawn! I was reading that!"
If it was that important, then Gus wouldn't have let it fall to the floor, but for once, Shawn didn't argue. He moved out of his chair and took advantage of his higher position (who was taller now?) to push Gus back down when he started to rise.
"Dude," Shawn said, still smiling.
"No. No," Gus, said. "I am not doing this with you."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Why?" Shawn pressed, clambering onto Gus's lap. Gus settled his hands on either side of Shawn's hips, and Shawn counted it as another small victory.
"Do you even remember Mexico?" Gus asked, defeated, resting his forehead against Shawn's.
"I love Mexico," said Shawn. "And this won't even involve bad tequila and awkward sex in the backseat of your car."
"It better not. I'm too old for car sex."
"But couch sex is okay, right?" Shawn untucked Gus's shirt and slid his hands up and under, smoothing his fingers against bare skin.
"There aren't any blinds on the front window, Shawn." But Gus didn't shove Shawn off, and his thumbs were moving in tiny little circles against Shawn's hips.
"That just makes it more exciting!"
That was not Gus's convinced face. That was Gus's about-to-come-to-my-senses face. Shawn knew that now was the time for distractions. Kissing Gus and shoving his hands down Gus's pants went over well. Gus opened his mouth and leaned back, pulling Shawn with him. After pacifying Gus this way for a few minutes, Shawn pulled away. "Does this mean that I'll be able to ask for your mom's cake more often?"
"You are seriously not saying you're using me for baked goods." Gus's face was scrunched up and unhappy so Shawn had to kiss him again.
"Not using," said Shawn breathlessly a few moments later. "And the cake would be for you, too!"
"Shawn!"
Shawn decided to give up on the cake for now and take what was immediately available. Gus didn't seem to have any further objections. At least, not until they realized they had no spare pants and clients arriving in half an hour, but by then it was already too late for consideration.
"We're rescheduling. I am not meeting clients like this."
"And hey, in the future we can stash spare clothing in the lockers. It'll also be convenient for unexpected water fights!"
"This isn't happening again, Shawn."
"Gus, I thought we'd gone over this."
"I meant in the office," Gus said. "No more sex in the office."
After Gus got off the phone with the clients, Shawn proved him wrong again anyway.
Fandom: Psych
Pairing: Gus/Shawn
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 1183
Summary/Notes: Gus stages an intervention. Written for Porn Battle VI, though much less like porn than originally intended. Included in full here, but there's an excerpt at the porn battle. Written for the prompt cockblock, though it can also apply to jealousy.
After the seventh girl Shawn dated tried to kill him (this one with a pitchfork. A pitchfork), Gus staged an intervention.
"You're right," Shawn agreed, because he still had a concussion and Gus was making those sad eyes and had brought pineapple upside down cake that he was holding just out of Shawn's reach. "It's a problem. I need to be stopped."
"I'm not joking, Shawn," Gus said, and his eyes were still way too big for a grown man staring down his best friend. Shawn considered standing on the hospital bed to gain a few feet. Gus was using his extra millimeters (maybe centimeters, but definitely not inches) in an unfair advantage.
"Of course you aren't," Shawn said and waved his hand for the cake again. "I totally agree with you." Gus looked doubtful, taking a step back. Shawn stepped forward, bumping their bodies together. "That cake is for me, right? You wouldn't bring a cake just to taunt me with it, would you?"
"My mom baked this cake," Gus said, still keeping the cake to himself. Hadn't Gus learned to share in kindergarten with everyone else?
"Dude! Your mom likes me enough to make me food now?" Getting hospitalized by a hot co-ed turned crazed murderer was totally worth it.
"She baked it at my request," Gus said, which still made Shawn feel all warm and fuzzy inside, so it wasn't that hard to swear off women until he had healed from all of his injuries and Gus hadn't had to step foot in a hospital again for at least six months.
It was more difficult two months later when the pineapple upside down cake was only a fond memory and Gus was now stalking Shawn. Sure, Gus wasn't as stealth as Shawn and was sadly easy to lose, but the fun of playing their strange new game of hide 'n seek wasn't as fun when Gus kept finding him, usually in the middle of dessert. Gus might not have been stealth, but he knew Shawn so well that he didn't need to be, and his blatant mistruths were killing all future chances of dates.
"He's wanted in a murder investigation," Gus told Karen, gripping Shawn's shoulder.
"Tax evasion," he told Kathy, fingers firm around Shawn's wrist.
"Late on child payments."
"Violated parole."
"Stalker case."
"Just wanted to let him know that his tests came back positive for syphilis."
The date offers tapered off, and the last-minute cancellations increased. After a little aimless googling one slow day at the office, Shawn discovered he had several entries on Don't Date Him, Girl, complete with pictures--and only a third of the entries were by obvious Gus sockpuppets.
"'Charming, handsome, and a complete loser,'" Shawn read aloud. "'Shawn Spencer is a seeming catch, but his silly hair'--silly hair? My hair isn't silly. This takes effort, Gus, and several minutes to style every morning."
Gus barely glanced over from his paper. "I don't know what you're talking about and I don't care."
"'His silly hair and boyish smile conceal inept social manners and a tendency to underperform in be'--You're taking shots at my sexual performance now? That is harsh, Gus, and patently untrue. I am amazing in bed. Also, what's this about 'His best friend will kill you' and this comment that calls you my 'suspected gay lover'?"
"What? I didn't write those." That wasn't Gus's lying voice, but it was his something to hide and extremely embarrassed voice. He was still half-buried in the paper, holding it in front of him like a flimsy shield.
Several pieces slotted together for Shawn: Gus's palm warm through the cotton of Shawn's shirt as he interrupted Shawn's first date. That fleeting look that passed Gus's face--half fond, half rueful--as Shawn left him stuck in the clutches of a horde of holiday shoppers who believed he had the last Dark Knight action figure. The way Gus had leaned in before he'd backed away when brandishing the pineapple cake just out of Shawn's reach.
"Oh my God, you're jealous."
"I am not!" And there was Gus's lying voice.
Shawn didn't fight the silly grin he felt spreading across his face. "You are totally jealous."
"That's absurd!"
Shawn rolled his chair across the room to Gus's place on the couch and shoved the paper down so Gus would look at him. The paper maybe got a little rumpled in the process.
"Shawn! I was reading that!"
If it was that important, then Gus wouldn't have let it fall to the floor, but for once, Shawn didn't argue. He moved out of his chair and took advantage of his higher position (who was taller now?) to push Gus back down when he started to rise.
"Dude," Shawn said, still smiling.
"No. No," Gus, said. "I am not doing this with you."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Why?" Shawn pressed, clambering onto Gus's lap. Gus settled his hands on either side of Shawn's hips, and Shawn counted it as another small victory.
"Do you even remember Mexico?" Gus asked, defeated, resting his forehead against Shawn's.
"I love Mexico," said Shawn. "And this won't even involve bad tequila and awkward sex in the backseat of your car."
"It better not. I'm too old for car sex."
"But couch sex is okay, right?" Shawn untucked Gus's shirt and slid his hands up and under, smoothing his fingers against bare skin.
"There aren't any blinds on the front window, Shawn." But Gus didn't shove Shawn off, and his thumbs were moving in tiny little circles against Shawn's hips.
"That just makes it more exciting!"
That was not Gus's convinced face. That was Gus's about-to-come-to-my-senses face. Shawn knew that now was the time for distractions. Kissing Gus and shoving his hands down Gus's pants went over well. Gus opened his mouth and leaned back, pulling Shawn with him. After pacifying Gus this way for a few minutes, Shawn pulled away. "Does this mean that I'll be able to ask for your mom's cake more often?"
"You are seriously not saying you're using me for baked goods." Gus's face was scrunched up and unhappy so Shawn had to kiss him again.
"Not using," said Shawn breathlessly a few moments later. "And the cake would be for you, too!"
"Shawn!"
Shawn decided to give up on the cake for now and take what was immediately available. Gus didn't seem to have any further objections. At least, not until they realized they had no spare pants and clients arriving in half an hour, but by then it was already too late for consideration.
"We're rescheduling. I am not meeting clients like this."
"And hey, in the future we can stash spare clothing in the lockers. It'll also be convenient for unexpected water fights!"
"This isn't happening again, Shawn."
"Gus, I thought we'd gone over this."
"I meant in the office," Gus said. "No more sex in the office."
After Gus got off the phone with the clients, Shawn proved him wrong again anyway.
