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Title: And Then They Did Sex
Author: coffeebuddha
Rating: PG-13/FRT
Characters/Pairing: Shawn Spencer/Carlton Lassiter
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Word Count:
385
Summary: The storm has been broadcasting on the news for hours, but Carlton's too busy serving Justice to check the weather and Shawn's been curled up in the Psych office for the past 48 hours engrossed by a Different Strokes marathon.
Notes: [livejournal.com profile] topetine was complaining about her lack of dreams lately, so I wrote her some dream fodder. It isn't exactly crack, but it isn't exactly not either. The fic gets decidedly more mature if you head on down to the comment fic continuation. >.>

***
 
The storm has been broadcasting on the news for hours, but Carlton's too busy serving Justice to check the weather and Shawn's been curled up in the Psych office for the past 48 hours engrossed by a Different Strokes marathon. He barely notices the lightening crashing and the thunder flashing-that's how those work right?-but when the power flickers, then goes dead, Shawn shoots up straight in his chair, every horror movie he's ever seen playing simultaneously in his mind. A second later, the door opens with a bang just as lightening cracks across the dark sky, outlining a tall, thin silhouette. He shrieks-and it's a manly shriek, not at all like a little girl's-and falls out of his chair, crabwalking backwards to get away from the ominous figure slowly moving toward him in the dark.

There's a loud thump and an equally loud curse, and Shawn pauses, because that curse is familiar. He peeks over the edge of Gus's desk, his night vision well enough adjusted now that he can make out Lassie, sans jacket and tie, blinking back the water that's dripping from his hair into his eyes. His cheap white shirt clings to his lean torso, and even with as dim as it is, Shawn can tell he isn't wearing an undershirt. He clears his throat, wondering why he wasn't this flustered at his first spring break wet t-shirt contest, and tries to nonchalantly stand up. He leans against Gus's desk, accidentally overturning a stack of paperwork, and smiles at Lassie like he meant to do that. Lassie looks back at him like he's a complete idiot.

Shawn clears his throat again and tries to keep his eyes above Lassie's undone collar so it won't be so glaringly obvious that he has indeed noticed that, why yes, Lassie's nipples ARE hard under his apparently cold, clinging shirt. At a lack for anything else to say-even his babbling ways seem to have deserted him-he makes a sort of half wave and says, "Hey, Lassie. Get caught in the rain?"

Lassie glares at him and sort of shakes all over, water droplets flinging everywhere, and says, "No, I figured that since you're near the beach, I'd just go for a swim. In my clothes."

And then they did sex.​

***

I usually try not to get too personal in my author's notes because I know that's not what you guys are here to read about, but I want to apologize for my erratic behavior and absence the past week. Daily Drabbles should be starting back up again tomorrow, and it looks like I'm pretty much out of my black mood, so I should be more level headed for the time being. Thank you so much for putting up with me and a very special thank you to everyone who took the time to leave me comments on my post the other day. They really did help. ♥

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