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"If we make it back to civilization alive, Spencer, I'm going to kill you," growled Lassiter. Shawn wished he could take him seriously, but the SBPD's head detective was currently soaked, waterlogged suit hanging off him like great big wings and looked so much like a soggy, miserable dog that Shawn wanted to laugh.
"I'm a psychic, not a weatherman," said Shawn, and dodged the flick aimed at his ear.
If he's being totally, completely honest with himself, he might have had a teeny tiny hand in getting them both into this predicament. The two of them were walking down a seemingly endless stretch of dirt road that was getting muddier by the second, rain beating down on them like it was trying to wash them away. Shawn's 'vision' had brought them out to the middle of nowhere, following a hunter suspected of shooting his victims and burying them in the woods.
The good news was that they seemed to have found the right guy. After nearly two and a half hours driving to the secluded cabin, the hunter had taken one look at the cruiser and bolted into the undergrowth, leaving Shawn and Lassiter to chase after him.
The bad news was that their suspect had years of experience on them, shaking them off his trail quickly and leading them deeper and deeper into the forest without them realizing. They only became aware of just how lost they were when Shawn stopped for breath and noticed that there was no more trail to follow, and there were no other sounds aside from the occasional bird call and the babble of a nearby stream.
Lassiter had gone apopleptic and damn near screamed himself hoarse when Shawn sheepishly admitted that they might be a tad lost. He was still puzzling that one out, Lassie hadn't been that angry at him in ages. He'd finally calmed down after Shawn pointed out that shouting wasn't going to get them out of the woods, though he kept shooting him glares that conveyed his desire to lop Shawn's head off with a blunt axe. Shawn ignored him for the most part, decided that the best way back into Lassie's good graces was to find the way to the cabin. So, with a confidence he didn't feel, he picked a direction that he was fairly sure was due south and began to walk, calling on every scrap of survival training that Henry had drilled into him as a child.
When it started to rain, turning the ground to mud and soaking their shoes and pants, Lassiter swore a blue streak. It didn't take long until they were both soaked to the bone. Fall in California wasn't the coldest time of year, but it wasn't far off. Coupled with the rapidly fading sunlight, the temperature dropped fast and Shawn, who normally put of heat like a furnace, found himself shivering slightly.
Engrossed as he was trying to remember the way back, he didn’t notice Lassiter staggering until he bumped into him for the third time. Shawn turned, opening his mouth to make some smartass comment about watching his feet when he noticed just how hard Lassiter was shaking, and the words died on his tongue.
“Lassafrass, you alright?” The detective had his arms folded tight across his chest, huddling as deep into his wet clothes as possible. A gust of freezing wind blew through the trees, making Shawn shiver. Lassie froze, squeezing his eyes shut and trembling all over.
“Bad circulation,” he bit out. Shawn could physically see him trying to keep his teeth from chattering. The sun had nearly set, twilight creeping up on them, and Shawn still had no idea how long it would take them to get back to the cabin. Judging by the look on Lassiter's face and the way he trembled, it needed to be sooner rather than later. Coming to a decision, he slowed enough until they were walking side by side and slung one of Lassiter's arms over his shoulder. "W-What the hell?"
"It'll be faster this way," said Shawn, already marching them off in a different direction. The trees seemed familiar here, or maybe the stress of it all was getting to him. Either way, it was the best shot they had.
"I d-don't need your help," Lassiter protested, though he didn't pull away. Shawn rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around his waist and swallowing a shriek when the detective's icy fingers brushed his own.
"Sure you don't," he soothed, keeping his eyes on the moss patterns on the trees. Past that little sapling, that one clump that looks like a cow jumping over a carrot, left here at the log with the mushrooms growing on it. Or was it right? No, it was definitely left. 'Cause the other way isn't right. Haha. Keep heading south, one foot in front of the other.
He had no idea how much time had passed. By the time they saw the cabin, it was dark and Lassiter had gone pretty much non responsive, leaning most of his weight on Shawn and shivering uncontrollably. Shawn figured it was better than no shivering at all.
“Nearly there, Lass,” he panted, focusing on dragging them both towards the front door. “Just a little further.”
“C-Cold,” Lassiter murmured into his neck, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill.
“I know buddy, I know. We’ll get you inside and dry, okay?”
Lassiter just grunted and let Shawn heave him the rest of the way down the gravel path and up the three little steps. Shawn muttered a prayer under his breath and nearly wept with relief when the door swung open, still unlocked. He paused in the doorway, listening for any sign that the hunter had come back but the cabin was silent.
The sound of teeth chattering kicked him into high gear. First order of business was getting them both warm and dry. He dragged them over to the couch, depositing Lassiter onto it and pretending not to hear the tiny whimper that he let out at the loss of Shawn’s warmth. “Be right back, alright? Sit tight and get yourself out of those wet clothes. I’m gonna go start the fire.”
“B-but ‘m c-c-cold,” Lassiter slurred. Shawn tried not to panic.
“You’ll be colder if you leave them on,” he said, turning towards the fireplace. The cinders had obviously long gone cold, but there was enough charcoal at the bottom to get a spark going, and enough firewood stacked beside it to keep it fed. His own fingers were numb and he had to focus to keep them from shaking as Henry’s voice echoed in his ears: Two or three big logs at the bottom, smaller logs on top, twigs on top of that. Pile on some kind of kindling. Wood shavings or paper. Thank god for his Swiss army knife. Light the tinder. Once you get a flame going, add small pieces of wood until the twings and small logs start to burn. Before too long, the entire structure caught, sending a wave of warmth through his chilled body. He could have cried at how good it felt.
Sitting back on his haunches, he wiped a sooty hand across his forehead and smiled, satisfied as the heat from the fire began to soak into his frozen skin and bones.
“How’s it going over there?” he called over his shoulder. When he didn’t get a response, he frowned, preparing to turn around when something heavy and oh-so-cold pressed itself against his back. He yelped as a frozen nose wriggled its way into the junction of his neck and shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Warm,” murmured Lassiter. “T-Tired.”
“Oh, no you don’t mister,” said Shawn, trying to ignore the thumping of his heart. “You’re not dying on me that easily.”
“Not d-dying,” protested Lassiter. “Wanna s-sleep.”
Shawn sighed. “Not yet, Lassie. Come here, we need to get to undressed so your clothes can dry off.”
“T-Then I can sleep?”
“Sure.”
That seemed to be good enough for Lassiter, who unpeeled himself from Shawn’s back long enough for him to turn around. As per his instructions, Lassiter had managed to remove his suit jacket, shoes, and socks and nothing else, leaving Shawn with the somewhat uncomfortable realisation that he was going to have to take the rest of his clothes off.
They were both adults. It was fine. He could be normal about this.
Hesitantly, he reached for Lassiter’s tie and began to tug at the knot, waiting for the detective to snap back to his senses and push him away. It never came. Instead, Lassiter stayed sitting, docile and blinking slowly and Shawn divested him of his (frankly hideous) tie and began to unbutton his dress shirt.
Shawn kept his gaze fixed on the buttons. It already felt far too intimate. If he looked Lassiter in the eyes right now, he didn’t know what would happen next. Of course, things were never that easy. With each button, more and more of Lassiter’s chest was exposed, along with that glorious sternum bush that Shawn often had dreams about smothering himself in. He hoped that the redness of his cheeks could be explained by their proximity to the roaring fire.
The shirt and tie landed in a soggy heap somewhere off to their left. Shawn accidentally looked up and found their faces far closer together than they had been before. For a moment, they stayed frozen like that, hazel melting into blue. If he leaned forward just a little, he could kiss him.
"Sh-Shawn?" He felt the puff of air against his own lips.
"Hmm?" He'd never seen Lassie's eyes this close before. Lit by the warm firelight, they almost seemed to glow.
"What n-now?"
What now indeed. Kiss me, he wanted to say. Touch me. Let me hold you. Let me in. He'd more or less given up on the prospect of Lassiter wanting him back, but his treacherous heart hadn't seemed to have gotten the memo and was currently trying to thump its way out of his ribcage. No. This needed to stop before he did something he would regret.
With what he hoped passed as a casual lean, he swayed back on his heels and got to his feet, groaning when his knees and back popped. Lassiter stayed where he was on the floor, kneeling and shirtless and looking up at Shawn like—
"Blankets!" he croaked, relieved that his voice didn't crack in the middle. "You get out of those pants and I'll go get us some blankets."
"'K-Kay." Still strangely docile, he reached for his belt buckle. Shawn ogled him for a little too long before turning on his heel and disspearing into the cabin, heading for what he assumed was the bedroom.
It was much colder in there, untouched as it was by the heat of the fire, and exactly what he needed. He leaned his forehead against the wall and took several deep breaths until his face calmed down and his heart rate settled back into the realm of normal. Everything was fine. He could deal with a naked Lassie. He could deal with being naked with Lassie. In the name of not developing hypothermia, of course.
The thought made him shiver as he finally calmed down enough to notice that he was still wearing his wet clothes and goddamn this part of the cabin was freezing. Wincing at the chill, he peeled off his soaked items as quickly as he could, yelping when his bare feet hit the cold floor. He yanked the blankets and duvet off the bed, wrapping one around himself before hightailing it back to the living room with both bundles in his arms, muttering a steady stream of curses.
"M'Lord," he said, tossing one in Lassiter's general direction and turning away with the excuse of hanging up their clothes to dry by the fire. When he turned around, he was relieved to find that Lassiter had wrapped himself up similarly. "How are you feeling now?"
Lassiter grunted, shivering despite sitting close enough to the fire to practically be in it. "W-we're going to be s-s-stuck here all n-night, aren't we?"
"Afraid so, Lassieface. But don't worry, I don't bite. Much." Lassiter just grunted, leaning closer to the flames. "Woah, fire hazard."
Lassiter scowled with no real heat behind it, but it was close enough to his usual one that Shawn felt a little better. "I'm still f-freezing."
Shawn's treacherous heart must have been in cahoots with his tongue because when he opened his mouth to reply, what came out was, "I'll keep you warm."
An eyebrow arched skyward. "Yeah?"
Shawn's mouth was suddenly very dry. He could play it off as a joke, he supposed, but it was late and he was exhausted and he found that he couldn't care anymore. He'd spent far too long wondering if Lassiter was going to even make it through the night. "Scoot this way a little," he said, gesturing back from the fire. "Lay on the pelt, I'll lie next to you."
Lassiter's eyes glittered as he squinted up at him and Shawn felt a bit like a bug under a microscope. Is this how criminals felt in the interrogation room? Then, slowly, he lowered himself to the floor, laying stiffly on his back like he was made of wood. That wouldn't do at all.
Ignoring the pulse thundering in his ears, Shawn flopped down beside him, thankful that the fur was warm and that he wouldn't have to lie with his bare ass against the floor. Shrugging the blanket up around their shoulders, he turned on his side and gingerly wrapped an arm around Lassiter's chest, pulling him close. "Come on, roll over Lassie," he said, and laughed when the other man scowled at him. "You want to freeze to death or not?"
With a lot of grumbling, Lassiter turned over until his back was to the fire and tucked himself against Shawn, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Shawn yelped as their legs tangled together. "Jesus! Your feet are like icicles!"
"B-Bad circulation, I t-told you." He could feel the smug little smirk against his skin. "By the way, if you tell G-Guster about this, they'll never find your b-body," said Lassiter conversationally. The threat would have a more bite to it if he wasn't shivering so hard and using Shawn as the world's biggest hot water bottle. Lassiter grunted again when Shawn told him as much.
Things were quiet for a while after that, save for the occasional crackle and pop. Lassiter's shivers tapered off until he stopped shaking entirely, skin starting to soak up the heat from around him. To give himself something else to focus on, Shawn stared into the dancing flames, watching the yellow and orange flicker together, eating up the wood and turning it into charcoal and ashes. He and Lassiter were a little like that, he thought. Always pushing, always taking, always burning each other. Still, neither of them could seem to stay away. Maybe the fire needed the fuel from the wood it burnt. Maybe the wood craved the heat and passion of the fire. Whatever it was, they needed each other.
Lassiter was still wrapped around him, clinging to him tight. Shawn did his best to be professional and unaffected by it, despite the fact that he could feel every point of contact where they were pressed together. Both of them were warming up quickly and the feeling of someone else's arms around him was nice. Too nice. The puffs of breath against the sensitive skin of his neck weren't helping matters any. Instead, he listened to the sound of the rain falling outside. It was soothing, when they weren't caught in it and freezing to death. That, combined with the comforting crackle of the fire and he could almost pretend that the two of them were on vacation somewhere, getting away from the craziness of their jobs. He resisted the urge to something sappy like comb his fingers through Lassiter's still-damp hair and kiss the crown of his head.
Thunder boomed out of nowhere and Lassiter flinched, squeezing all the air out of Shawn's lungs and making him wheeze. "Sorry," he grumbled, relinquishing his hold and beginning to untangle himself from their hug. In a moment of panic, Shawn wrapped his arms around him again and tugged too hard, rolling himself onto his back and Lassiter on top of him. Instinctively, his hands went to Lassie's waist. "Spencer?"
Lassie's face was very close to his again, blue eyes boring into his, looking for some kind of answer. Unfortunately, the only thing going through Shawn's brain at the moment was ERROR. ERROR. LASSIE IN LAP.
Shawn licked his lips. "You, uh. You don't need to go."
"No?" It was barely a whisper.
"Baby, it's cold outside," Shawn sing-songed, wiggling his eyebrows to try and cut some of the tension. Lassiter shifted and he had to squeeze his eyes shut as their hips rubbed together. It seemed his dick was trying to join the coalition of traitrous body parts. Get it together man! he thought at it. Now's not the time!
"What are we doing here?" Lassie murmured.
"We chased a suspect into the woods without backup, got lost and caught in the rain, and now we're trying not to develop hypothermia."
Lassiter rolled his eyes, shifting again, and Shawn bit his lip. "Not that, dumbass. You know what I mean. Why are you… being nice to me?"
"Lassie, you can't honestly think I wanted you to freeze to death."
"Obviously not," he growled. Dead puppies. Ms. O'Brannigan in fifth grade. Henry naked. "But you had every chance to pull that psychic shtick and mock me for not seeing the rain coming. Why are you being so—" He paused, peering down at Shawn. "Why are you so still all of a sudden?"
"I'm fine," said Shawn, through gritted teeth. He realised belatedly that his hands hadn't moved from Lassiter's bare waist but if he moved now, the other man would definitely notice.
"Don't be stupid, Spencer, are you hurt? Am I too heavy?" To his credit, he did look concerned. "Why didn't you say something? I can move."
"N-No, Lassie, wait—"
Before he could stop him, Lassiter was pushing himself up on his hands, thunking a knee down between Shawn's legs to give himself some leverage. This time, Shawn couldn't swallow his gasp when Lassiter leaned forwards too far and his thigh ground up against his cock.
They both froze. Thunder rumbled again. "Did I hurt you?" asked Lassiter, very quietly. He had to know by now. Despite Shawn's teasing, he was a good detective. Oh well, in for a penny. Shawn shook his head. "Is that… because of me?"
"No, Clint Eastwood. What do you think?" he snapped, trying to cover the humiliation washing over him in merciless waves. "Look, just… Just turn around, okay? We can forget it ever happened. You can kill me in the morning." He was acutely aware of the pressure against him and, despite being a little terrified, his erection hadn't flagged.
"I don't want to kill you."
"Great," said Shawn dryly. "Now get off me so I can do deal with this myself. It's embarrassing enough without you staring at me."
Lassiter didn't move and continued to stare Shawn down like he was trying to peel away his skin and glimpse the inner workings of his mind. Slowly, hesitantly, he nudged his thigh up against Shawn again, watched his throat bob on a swallow. He leaned down again, close enough to kiss him, and Shawn kept himself stock-still. "Tell me you know it's me."
"What?"
"I'm serious, Shawn. Tell me you're reacting like this because it's me, and not because it's been a long day and I'm just another warm body." Was Shawn imagining the pleading note in his voice? "Tell me you want this."
The error message blared louder in his mind. His mouth opened and closed a few times, words failing him for once in his life. "Want… Want what?" he stuttered dumbly. Without breaking eye contact, one of Lassiter's hands dissapeared between them and palmed Shawn's erection over the blanket. The sudden pressure and heat made him whine and Lassiter's pupils dilated so fast it was almost scary. "Oh."
"Tell me."
"I want it," Shawn blurted. "Oh, god, Lassie. I want it."
That seemed to be all he was waiting for. He pushed himself up until he was half sitting back on his calves, straddling one of Shawn's thighs. His hand crept beneath the blanket and curled around Shawn's cock properly, stroking him gently as he became accustomed to the feel of it. After being pent up for so long, that tiny amount of pressure and friction was enough to have Shawn biting into his lip and jerking his hips up to chase Lassiter's hand.
Part of Shawn's brain staunchly refused to believe this was happening. Maybe they actually had frozen to death outside and this was just mind's way of comforting him before he slipped into the great beyond, or maybe he was dreaming. There was simply no way that Carlton Lassiter was sitting in his lap, jerking him off on the floor of some rustic hunting cabin.
Granted, his dreams had never felt this mind bogglingly good either. His cock hadn't stopped leaking since Lassie had wrapped a hand around it, making the slide easier but not completely smooth. It gave enough of an edge to throw a hitch into Shawn's breathing. Then, because Lassie was apparently a psychic too, he paused, spat into his hand, and resumed his strokes, the extra lubrication making everything just that little bit smoother.
"You're really good at that," Shawn panted, groaning as Lassiter sped up. "Oh, right there."
Lassiter looked amused, obligingly tightening the circle of his fingers, stroking from root to tip and twisting his wrist around the head before dragging the flat of his palm over the crown and stroking down the length. He repeated the motion over and over until Shawn was a whining, babbling mess. All sorts of embarrassing sounds left his mouth without his permission, things like Lassie and please and more and don't stop. Try as he might, he couldn't find himself to be that embarrassed about it. Not with Lassiter gazing at him with such obvious hunger and a tiny smirk on his lips.
He was rolling his hips up now, fucking Lassiter's hand with wild abandon, feeling his gut tighten. He whined in frustration, shuddering as he was pulled closer and closer to the edge. "Lassie," he choked. "Gonna— Gonna—"
"Do it, I want to see."
That nearly undid him on its own. "Nuuhh," he protested. "Too soon."
Lassie rubbed his thumb hard against the big vein that traveled up the underside of his cock and Shawn's eyes flew open with a gasp. "Come on, Shawn. Cum for me. You can drag it out next time."
He was overheating, both from the extertion and the heat of the fireplace. There was no way in hell he was going to stop now, though. "Next time?" he puffed, mouth starting to stretch into a hopeful grin. For someone with his hand wrapped around Shawn's dick, Lassiter suddenly looked very sheepish.
"If you want."
"Does a wild bear crap in the woods?" Lassiter raised an eyebrow. "That means yes, Lassieface. Yes, I want a next time. And a time after that. And— and— oh—" He went a little cross eyed as Lassiter did something clever with his wrist.
"Hmm? What was that, Shawn?" he asked and oh, the man could be a real bastard sometimes.
"I was— I was saying— uhnnn Lassie!" His hips were bucking now, and he had no intention of trying to stop them. "You aren't—fuck—"
"Oh, but I think I am," teased Lassiter. "I think I am fucking you, actually."
"Fair!" he cried, his spine pulling into an arch as he bared his throat to the ceiling. "You're not playing fair! Oh, fuck, I'm so close. So close. Fuck, please, please let me." His own desperate gasps rang in his ears, along with Lassiter's low, dirty chuckle.
"You sound like this during your visions too, did you know that?" He leaned down suddenly, bracing himself on his left hand so he could growl straight into Shawn's ear. "When the spirits are 'moving through you' or whatever the hell you call it. You sound exactly like this." His lips brushed the shell of his ear and Shawn made an embarrassing squeak. "At first I was thinking it was because you wanted the attention. Throwing yourself around like that, hanging off the walls and moaning like a whore—"
"Fuck!"
"And then you starting hanging off of me," His grip tightened. Shawn's head swam. He was going to die like this, red faced and sweaty and crushed beneath six feet of smokin' hot detective. "Grabbing my tie, my face, anything you could get your hands on. All in front of my coworkers."
"Got a bit of an exhibitionist streak," Shawn finally managed to gasp out. "Sue me."
"I noticed, don't worry," said Lassiter dryly, eyes darkening as Shawn dug his fingertips into his hips hard enough to hurt. "But then, you'll have to forgive me for wanting you all to myself."
"You've got it! You've got me! Always have, I swear. Jesus f-fuck, I'm— I'm—Ah!" He wailed when Lassiter sucked a bruise into his neck, rhythmn never faltering. He had seconds, maybe, and his entire body shuddered in anticipation. Only the knowledge that things were going to get messy held him back.
"Lassie," he whimpered. "Wait, the blankets."
"What about the damn blankets?"
"They're— ah— when this place becomes a crime scene—" The words stuck in his throat. "CSI," he managed eventually, rapidly losing the battle with himself. "They're gonna find— Oh, oh, oh I can't- I can't stop—"
Mercifully, Lassiter slowed, sitting back up. "Well, we can't have that," he murmured thoughtfully. Shawn caught the wicked grin on his face and his stomach tightened. "Here."
Here meant sliding sideways off of his lap, bending his head, and taking the tip of Shawn's cock into his mouth. That did it. Shawn felt the heat coiling in his stomach finally snap and he came with a shout, hips lifting off the floor and thrusting into Lassiter's mouth of their own accord. Lassie stroked him through it, swallowing around him until he came down from his high, panting like he'd just run a marathon. Looking down the length of his body, he caught the other man's gaze and gulped as he let his cock fall from his mouth, licking his lips.
"Alright?" he murmured. Shawn couldn't think of anything to say back, so instead he hauled Lassiter up so that they were face to face and crushed their lips together, licking into his mouth the second it opened for him and not caring that he could taste himself there.
They were both smiling when they came up for air. Shawn reached beneath the blanket, intending to return the favour when Lassiter grabbed his wrist, shaking his head. "I'm okay."
Shawn frowned. "Are you sure?"
Lassiter bent to kiss him again, this time fitting himself back into the curve of Shawn's arms and laying back against the floor with a contented sigh, his eyes already closing. "Told you, I'm tired." He cracked an eye open when Shawn didn't reply, expression soft and open. "Next time," he promised. "Now go to sleep."
Sleep was the furthest thing from Shawn's mind, but Lassie looked like he was about to pass out. Still, there was one more thing he needed to know.
"Why now?" he asked. Lassie made a questioning little hum. "Not that it was bad! Very grateful you decided on now, actually. But you were so angry earlier, out there." He let the question hang, the pattering of the rain filling the silence. Eventually, Lassie sighed, wetting his lips.
"It's stupid," he grumbled.
"Maybe," said Shawn easily. "Tell me anyway." He snuggled closer and felt the resigned breath whoosh out of him.
"Do you remember that whole fiasco with the Serbians?"
Shawn frowned. "You got your foot stuck in a bear trap and shot through the shoulder, Lassie. It's not something you forget." He brushed his fingers over the puckered scar tissue and felt him shudder.
"I just remember it being so cold that night, out in the woods." Shawn cast his mind back. He, Jules, Gus and the two film students had huddled around the fire, trying to hide from the biting wind. Lassiter's clothes still hadn't dried and he was taking watch, their perimeter far enough away from the fire that it's warmth didn't reach him, and far enough away from the group that they didn't hear it when he was taken. "I thought I was— Well, you saw the footage."
Shawn had. It had been a hard watch. He tried not to remember it.
"Being stuck out there tonight reminded me of that, except this time Ed wasn't going to be here to save us. I didn't really think we were going to die but…" he trailed off. Shawn understood.
"You were scared," he said quietly. Lassiter stiffened and then sighed, nodding. "Was that why you—" he didn't finish, stomach sinking suddenly.
"No," Lassie rushed to reassure. "Well, a little bit. After all that stress, I guess I wasn't thinking entirely straight." He continued before Shawn could jump in. "Mainly, I did it because we could have died tonight, and I never would have told you. I wasn't going to, actually, but you got us back here and you kept us alive and then I saw your face and you looked at me like," he paused, met Shawn's eyes. "Like that. And I had to try."
Shawn, giddy with delight, pulled Lassie tight to his body once again, just because he could, and pressed kisses into his hairline until the other man grumbled half-heartedly for him to stop. "Never," he laughed. "You like me." The fire was starting to die down, and there was still mud drying on their legs that was going to feel horrible the next morning, and they were still going to have to find that son of a bitch and probably explain why they'd been stuck out in the woods all night and shit, Shawn was totally going to have to tell Gus. For now though, Shawn ran his greedy hands over all the newly exposed skin he was allowed to touch, breathed in the comforting scent he was allowed to drink from the source, kissed the handsome curve of his jaw, his big ears, the corner of his mouth. "You wanna know a secret?"
"Only if it involves sleeping."
Shawn twined their fingers together and smiled when Lassie let him. "I like you, too."