“Spencer! Of course you’re here, why do I ever expect to get to go anywhere without you turning up.”
“Why, Lassie! What a coincidence. Or is it fate?” Shawn smiled at Lassiter over the rim of his vodka tonic.
“Just tell me, why are you here? What are you up to?”
“Believe it or not, I am not here for any case reasons.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because-” Shawn paused to take a long, loud slurp from his glass- “because, Detective, I wanted a drink.”
“You wanted a drink.”
“You’re in a gay bar.”
“But you also seem to be in a gay bar. In one two towns over, too.”
“How did you know I’d be here, Shawn, and don’t say you’re psychic, because you and I both know that’s a bunch of shit.”
“If I can’t say I’m psychic, then I don’t know how to answer you. Scotch, right?”
“You drink scotch, right? Let me buy you a drink.” Shawn swiveled on the bar stool and spoke to the bartender. “Double or single, Lassie?”
“Double, thanks.” Lassiter was wearing an expression that would’ve been familiar to anyone at the Santa Barbara police department- one part irritation, two parts resignation. The bartender handed Shawn the drink and he got up from the stool, headed towards the booth. Lassiter turned to the bartender.
“Does he have a tab here?”
Lassiter sighed and slapped a twenty on the counter before following Shawn to the seats. He slid into the booth, the cheap plastic vinyl unpleasantly sticky.
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“A vision came to me, Detective. Of you in…” Shawn rubbed his temples, faking concentration. “Of you in… the cutest little leather shorts.” Lassiter scowled at him. “Also, I know you didn’t want to risk being seen by anyone you’d know at a gay bar, hence the two towns over. And I gotta say, I wouldn’t really want to be seen in that either.”
“I’m wearing a suit. This is what I wear every day.”
“Exactly! You’re in a bar, not at work. You’re still wearing your gun holster too, aren’t you?”
“I’m a cop. I need to be prepared.”
“Well, some guys here might actually be into that, fortunately for you.” Lassiter spluttered in response. “I mean, you’re here to pick up guys, right? I can tell you to avoid the blonde in the white tank top, he’s got a very jealous boyfriend.” Lassiter gave the blonde in question a quick once-over while taking a sip of his drink.
“Not really my type- how do you even know that?”
“Not your type? So you’ve put some thought into this, good. I first thought maybe you were just having bad luck with women and thought this might be a good option for something fast ‘n’ dirty.”
“No, I think you were probably projecting, Spencer, ‘fast ‘n’ dirty’ is really more up your lane.”
“Oh, how darling, Lassie’s looking for commitment. I wonder, do you have a ring on you, right now? A good cop is prepared.”
“You’re being more of an ass than usual.” Shawn opened his mouth to argue and then closed it again.
“You’re right, my apologies.” He paused to throw back the rest of his drink that had been sweating a ring into the booth’s tabletop. “This is not my first drink and I’m being an asshole.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.”
“So is this your first time at a gay bar?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Come on , Lassiter, you gotta give me something to make conversation with, how else am I supposed to keep talking?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t, actually.”
“Yeah, a lot of guys say that.” Lassiter flushed at Shawn’s crude smile. “Oh, come on, Detective, you were married! I know you’re a creature of passion. Or, once were. A long, long time ago, but it still, it had to have happened!” Lassiter glanced away, conceding to the jab.
“It- has been a while.”
“See, now you’re opening up to me! Don’t worry tiger, with those pretty baby blues, you could get half the guys in here in a heartbeat.”
“So you think I’m pretty, Spencer?” Lassiter had meant it as a joke, an extension of the half mean banter they maintained, but Shawn’s face contorted with panic for a second before he could get control of his expression. “Oh. You really do, don’t you?”
“You’re an objectively attractive man, Detective, what can I say?” Shawn’s voice was light, but his skin was tight around the eyes. He was a wrong word away from bolting, and Lassiter always seemed to be full of the wrong words- but not responding was even worse.
“Thank you… Shawn. You’re, uh… you’re not too hard on the eyes either.”
“Thank you. Carlton.” Shawn played with a straw wrapper that had been left on the table for a few moments before looking up. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Do you want to get out of here. I’m tipsy enough I can wave it off in the morning, no one has to know, I swear I won’t breathe a word. Well, maybe to Gus. But other than that-”
“Yes.” Lassiter tossed back the rest of his drink and stood up.
“Yeah, now lets go before I talk myself out of this.” Shawn slid out of the booth and jogged to catch up with Lassiter, who had already made it to the door. The night air was humid and warm, and it felt like having a hot washcloth thrown at your face. Lassiter unlocked his car and they both slid into the seats. Lassiter made to put the car in reverse and pull out of his parking space when Shawn stopped him.
“Wait, before we leave we should kiss.”
“Why would we kiss?”
“I don’t want to find out we have no chemistry if I’m already at your place, man!”
“Spencer, we have chemistry. If you want to kiss me you can just say so.”
“Please don’t make me.”
“If you won’t ask me to kiss you, I won’t kiss you, simple as that.”
“Now you know how I feel, about you, all the time.” Shawn undid his seatbelt, leaned across the center console and stopped a centimeter from Lassiter’s mouth.
“Believe me, Detective, I wanna know how you feel.” Lassiter bridged the gap, but Shawn pulled back as soon as their mouths touched. “I didn’t ask yet.”
Lassiter stared at Shawn in disbelief for a few moments before reversing the car quickly enough to slam him back into the passenger seat. He scrambled for his seat belt as Lassiter peeled out of the parking lot.
“It’s a long trip back to your place.”
“Yes, it is.”
“We could pull over and fuck in your car.”
“We’re not having sex in my car.” Lassiter turned on the radio. NPR softly trickled from the speakers, and Shawn rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. “It’s a twenty minute drive, you’ll survive.”
“Will I though?”
“Just listen to the TED talk, Shawn.” Shawn just listened to the TED talk for twenty minutes, only interrupting his just listening to heckle Lassiter for taking a turn by almost coming to a complete stop. Twenty-three minutes after they left the bar, they pulled into Lassiter’s driveway. Shawn was out of the car before Lassiter even had it parked.
“Lassie, I’ve been wanting to get down and nasty with you for years , forgive me for being excited about this.”
“Don’t expect too much from me, it’s been a while.” Lassiter locked his car and they started up the stairs to his apartment.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Lassie, you’re a sexy, older gentleman, more experience, wiser with your additional years -” Lassiter grabbed Shawn by the collar and pushed him up against the door to his apartment.
“Listen, Spencer. Once we walk through this door, I’m in charge. You do what I say. You are to call me Lassiter, or Carlton, but not any variation of Lassie. I know you’re not inclined to listen to me, but it’s a skill you’re going to have to learn very soon.”
“God, you’re so hot right now. It’s like you were put on this earth to be an outlet for every daddy issue I have.” Lassiter unlocked the door.
“Just get in the damn apartment.”
“Yes, Detective Lassiter. Now, are we going to go straight to the sex part, or are we going to do that bullshit with the glass of wine and the movie and the-”
“Go to my bedroom and strip, I’ll be in there in-” he glanced at his watch- “two minutes.”
Lassiter walked into his kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it from the tap.
“These are some nice sheets, man, what thread count is this?” Lassiter checked his watch. Only forty-five seconds had passed. He took off his jacket and laid it on the counter, loosened his tie, undid the top button on his shirt. He could hear Shawn’s boots hit the floor of the bedroom. He had probably taken of his shirt first. Or shirts. What is the deal with him and the button up and t shirt combo? Lassiter toed off his shoes, finished his glass of water. A minute and thirty-six seconds. He started down the hallway to his bedroom slowly, coming to stand in his doorway. Shawn Spencer was naked, sprawled on his bed, face buried in Lassiter’s pillows. Lassiter gently knocked on the doorframe, and Shawn turned his head to look back at the detective.
“This is a really nice bed. I figured you might’ve had some hard mattress to make you even harder on crime, or something. I always pictured you, I don’t know, smoking out your apartment window and then passing out on your couch. It was very film noir.”
“How very romantic.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”
Lassiter removed his tie, unbuttoned his shirt. He walked over to the bed and kissed Shawn, who immediately responded by pulling him down onto the bed and clambering on top of him. He undid Lassiter’s pants, pulling his cock free. Lassiter pushed them down, kicked them off, and then grabbed Shawn, flipping him onto his back. He kissed him again, roughly. He could feel the hard press of Shawn’s cock against his thigh as he bucked up against it, seeking pressure.
“Jesus, Shawn, we’ll get there, calm down.”
“You’re not getting any younger, Carlton, can-” Lassiter grabbed Shawn’s cock hard enough to make him hiss.
“You’re not mouthing off to me while we do this, Spencer.”
“What will you do to me if I do?”
“I’ll stop.” Lassiter had been languidly stroking Shawn’s cock up until this point, where he stopped, moving away from him.
“Lassiter!” Lassiter got up off the bed and pulled open the bedside table drawer. He tossed a bottle of lube onto Shawn’s chest.
“Open yourself up.” He turned away to take off his gun holster and put it away, dropping his shirt on a chair in the corner. He heard the click of the lid behind him, and when he turned back around, Shawn was working a finger into himself, eyes half shut.
“Like what you see, detective?”
“Yeah.” Lassiter crossed the room to kiss Shawn, long and slow. Shawn moaned into his mouth as he fit in a second finger and started to scissor them inside himself. Lassiter grabbed a condom out of the bedside table and broke off their kiss to check the expiration date and roll it onto his length.
“You want lube?” Shawn squirted some into his palm and slicked Lassiter’s cock- Lassiter took a sharp breath and got onto the bed, positioning himself between Shawn’s legs.
“You ready yet?”
“Probably not, but I want you to go ahead anyway.” Lassiter lined his cock up with Shawn’s hole and pushed in. Shawn moaned loudly, digging his nails into Lassiter’s shoulders. “Jesus Christ, you’re big.”
“Do you need me to stop?”
“No, I’m good, just- just give me a second.” Lassiter paused, putting a steading hand on Shawn’s hip. He breathed deeply, getting used to Lassiter inside of him. “Okay, you can move now.”
Lassiter started to slowly thrust into him. Shawn moaned, wrapping his legs around him as he moved to kiss Shawn’s neck. He sucked a hickey into his throat, right above where one of his collars could obscure it. Shawn was moving his hips to meet Lassiter’s thrusts, and he moaned gently into Shawn’s shoulder. He moved his hand to Shawn’s cock, pumping it in rhythm with his thrusts.
“ Fuck , Carlton, Jesus Christ .”
“You’re gonna wake up my neighbors if you keep being this loud.”
“Feels so good.” Shawn kissed Lassiter again, before leaning up to his ear. He gently scraped his teeth over his earlobe, which made Lassiter dig his nails into Shawn’s hips. “I do have one request, though.”
“What’s-” here Lassiter drew in a sharp breath due to a particularly enthusiastic thrust back from Shawn, and a gentle twist to a nipple- “what’s that?”
“Fuck me harder.”
A lot of the time, Lassiter had to wonder what made Shawn so attractive to him. He wasn’t the most beautiful man he’d ever seen- and ninety percent of the time he was unbearable. Here is what it was: it was the smile. It was a challenge, an invitation, a taunt and a promise, all wrapped up pretty and placed below a very large nose. And Shawn flashed his smile at Lassiter, asking him to fuck him harder.
Fuck the neighbor’s sleep.
Lassiter grabbed Shawn from the shoulders, pushing him until his back was up against his headboard. He took hold of both his wrists, pushing them above his head.
“Hands on the headboard, you let go, I stop.”
“Yes, sir.” And then Lassiter slammed back into him, and Shawn had his head tossed back, and his head was hitting the headboard and the headboard was hitting the wall, and he was moaning Lassiter’s name over and over, and sure, he threw in a “ Lassie! ”, but his ass was tight and hot and Lassiter didn’t care .
Lassiter grabbed the headboard, interlocking his fingers with Shawn’s. They kissed, open-mouthed and sloppy. Lassiter was fucking him at a brutal pace, hitting his prostate every time, if his breathing was anything to go by.
“I’m so close, Carlton, fuck , I’m so close .”
“Me too.” Shawn looked at Lassiter, eyes hazy.
“Choke me.” Lassiter had his hand around his throat, pressing his thumb and forefinger to Shawn’s carotid arteries. Shawn let out a strangled cry before he came over his stomach. Lassiter stopped choking him and dropped his head to Shawn’s chest, thrusting into him a few more times before he came. Lassiter rolled off Shawn and lay next to him in bed, both panting.
“Yeah.” Lassiter tied off the condom and threw it in the trash, then laid back down next to Shawn. “So. Choking?”
“Shut up.” Shawn turned away from Lassiter, who pulled him back, loosely spooning him.
“No, no, it was hot. I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“Hot? That’s young person lingo, Lassiter.”
“You came first, Spencer. Your youth meant nothing.”
“Touché. Ow, you got me. Speaking of which, I may not be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Well, I certainly hope not. Means I did my job right.”
“And you’re all about doing your job right, Lassie.” Shawn turned over to be face to face with Lassiter, who kissed him.
“Are we going to have to talk about this tomorrow?”
“Oh, we probably should, but we won’t. Remember, it’s not gay unless our balls touch.”
“Go to bed, Spencer.”