YayCoffee (yaycoffee) wrote in psychflashfic,
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Rolling Like Thunder (Challenge #7)

Author: YayCoffee
Title: Rolling Like Thunder
Challenge: Dark and Stormy Night
Word Count: 1,575
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: Boykissing, schmoop



It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder shook the floor and rain pounded at the windows as Shawn flopped down in the couch with an obscenely large bowl of popcorn. He hit the play button on the dvd remote, but just as the words scrolling up the screen reminded him that the Empire had an ultimate weapon in the Death Star, his cell phone rang from its place on the coffee table.

He reached for the phone, fingers stretching wide. But his his arm just wasn't quite... the phone was just too... If he could just...

At the third ring, he groaned loudly, setting the bowl of popcorn off to the side and pushing himself up from the deepest, most comfortable reaches of the couch. He opened the phone, but he hadn't even had time to say "hello" before Gus's voice was loud and insistent in his ear.

"Shawn!"

"And hello to you to, Gus." Shawn answered.

"Shawn. You have to come get me! My car is dead."

Shawn stole a glance at the television. C-3P0 was nagging R2-D2 as white smoke filled a whiter hallway. He paused it, and switched the television off.

"Tell me where you are," he said.

***

He'd tried to find an actual car with an actual roof, but neither of his parents were answering their phones. Then, he thought about calling Jules or Lassie, but he'd gotten in so much trouble the last time he called in an emergency so he could get a ride in the rain. If it was just him, he probably would have done it anyway, but Gus was stranded, and for some reason, that took all the fun out of watching Lassie's forehead vein pulse as his face turned a satisfactory shade of purple.

He grabbed the spare helmet from the stand by the door, and soon enough, he was zipping across town, weaving his bike through sparse traffic. When he got to Gus's car, he noticed that Gus was waiting inside, head banging lightly on the steering wheel. Shawn got off the bike and knocked on the window of Gus's car. Gus opened the door only a fraction.

"C'mon, Gus," he said.

"Oh, no, Shawn. You know I hate riding on that death trap. And, it's raining. Couldn't you get your dad's car or something?"

"Tried that, but no dice."

Gus looked miserable when he finally got out of the car. The rain made quick work of his purple button-down, soaking dark patches on his shoulders before quickly soaking the rest of it so that it stuck to the skin on his chest and arms in large patches. Shawn handed him the spare helmet, and Gus put it on, taking deep breaths and fastening the chin-strap as tight as it would fit.

Shawn got on the bike and started it up, but Gus just stood there for a minute, getting wetter by the second and not moving a muscle.

"Get on, you big baby," Shawn said, patting the back of the seat encouragingly, sending a sloppy spray of water into the air.

Gus seemed to fight some internal battle before finally lurching himself forward and throwing a leg over the back of the motorcycle. When Shawn revved the engine, Gus's arms wrapped around his waste. Shawn found himself fighting an urge to lean back into Gus's chest.

Once Shawn started driving, though, Gus scooted closer, and Shawn could feel every inch of his torso along his back, and despite the cold and the rain, he felt almost uncomfortably warm.

Shawn parked the bike in front of his place, and made his way quickly to the door, jogging to get out of the rain, which seemed to be coming down even harder now. Gus was on his heels.

"Sorry, man," Shawn said, unlocking the door as fast as he could with wet fingers. "My place is closer, and with the rain, I thought you could just crash here."

"Okay."

When they got inside, both of them were dripping.

"All right. Come on back," Shawn said as he walked toward his bedroom. "I'll loan you something dry."

Gus nodded his head and followed.

Shawn found some towels and a pair of sweatpants and an old tee shirt for Gus and grabbed some clothes for himself as well. When Gus started to undo his shirt, Shawn found that he needed to look away, because he'd been staring. Had Gus been going to the gym? He shook the thought from his head as he took off his own soaked shirt and let it fall to the ground with a wet flump.

After they'd both dried off, Shawn settled back onto the couch and reached for his popcorn again. He turned on the tv and set the movie back to the menu. Everyone knew it wasn't worth watching if you didn't read the scroll. He was surprised to feel the couch dip under Gus's weight as he sat down right next to him. Gus usually sat in the chair across the room.

Gus must have noticed Shawn's surprise, because he shrugged his shoulders and said, "You'll hog all the popcorn if I sit over there. I'm hungry." He grabbed a handful and popped it into his mouth. Shawn smiled.

"Now who's the one hogging the snacks?" Shawn mocked, kneeing Gus's leg playfully with his own.

Gus sighed. "Thanks for coming. It's been an awful day. And then my damn car died."

"We've had worse days," Shawn said. "It's not like you were chased by murderers. You weren't held up by gunpoint today, were you?"

"No."

"See. Then. Not so bad." Shawn grabbed his own handful of popcorn. This time it was Gus's leg that found Shawn's, and Shawn pressed his leg back. This led to Gus pushing even harder before adding his arms, and Shawn answered back, grabbing Gus around the neck in a headlock. Gus was going down.

Soon, they were wrestling in earnest, Gus fighting back, putting Shawn into his own headlock and pulling them both to their feet, sending the bowl of popcorn clattering to the floor, popcorn flying everywhere. Gus pushed, and Shawn pushed harder. They knocked over a lamp and pushed the armchair to its side. Shawn swung Gus up off his feet, knocking the coffee table hard enough to send everything on it onto the floor.

After a while, Shawn had to admit that perhaps Gus had been going to the gym, because soon he was buckling under the weight of him, falling to the rug, which burned his cheek a little, Gus's hand smooshing down his other cheek as his body pinned Shawn's to the floor.

"You give?" Gus asked, panting and triumphant, ghosting breath over Shawn's ear.

"Yeah," Shawn said as well as he could with Gus's hand on his face. Gus eased up his weight, just a little, so that Shawn could turn his body. Gus didn't move much. When Shawn got his head turned so that he was actually facing Gus, Gus had a strange look on his face.

Shawn noticed that he had a piece of popcorn caught between the collar of his tee shirt and his neck, so he quickly reached up to grab it. He thought first about shoving it up Gus's nose, but Gus was a little faster, trapping Shawn's hand at his neck, crushing the piece of popcorn into a million pieces. Gus's fingers wound through Shawn's, and both of them stopped breathing for a second. Gus relaxed his hold on Shawn's hand, and Shawn didn't know what made him do it, but he took the opportunity to touch Gus's face.

He ran his thumb across Gus's cheek, just under his eye, and something very warm twisted in his belly when Gus's eyes fluttered shut at the touch, his hand resting lightly on top of Shawn's. Gus's skin was smooth and warm and dry, and Shawn could not make himself stop touching it. He just kept stroking the skin of Gus's cheek. Gus ran his hand from where it was on top of Shawn's to first his wrist and then continued to follow the line of his arm all the way up until he was cupping the back of Shawn's neck.

Shawn didn't know who moved first, but soon their lips met, and he was kissing his best friend. And it was nice. It was more than nice. He liked the way that Gus sighed into his mouth, liked the slide of his tongue against Gus's. Soon, his hands found other pieces of Gus's skin to touch. He stroked the back of Gus's arms under the short sleeves of his tee shirt, found a sensitive patch at the small of Gus's back, ran his thumbs along the lines of his ribs under his shirt.

Shawn rolled over, so that he could have better access to Gus's mouth, but when he did, he felt something hard and uncomfortable dig at the small of his back, and the volume now coming from the television was deafening.

He had rolled on to the remote. He quickly pulled it out from under him and found the little minus button, growling as he realized he was going to have to sit up so that the television sensor would read it.

Gus laughed. "I forgot about the movie," he said, sitting up. He rested his head on Shawn's shoulder.

"Yeah," Shawn said, smiling sheepishly. "I did, too."

*End*
Tags: 7-dark and stormy night, pairing: shawn/gus, rating: pg-13
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