Characters/Pairings: Shawn/Juliet, Shawn, Juliet
Genre: Fluff, Romance
Summary: Juliet knows how to make a bad week better.
A/N: For Mia. This one gets a little suggestive, but that's about it. :)
Disclaimer: I don't Psych or the characters.
When Shawn shuffled through the front door after seven thirty, Juliet was waiting for him, wearing his favorite outfit—one of his old, faded Knight Rider t-shirts, and very little else. The weariness on his face ebbed a little when he looked up and saw her, easing back to reveal a pleased expression, his mouth curling into a dark-eyed smile.
“I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life,” he said, closing the door behind him.
Juliet smiled. “Oh, I don't know. How about now?” She pulled her hands around to the front, revealing the object she'd had hidden behind her back: a pineapple.
Shawn immediately licked his lips. “I love you, Jules. Have I mentioned that? I really, really do.”
Handing him the fruit, she reached for the collar of his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders one arm at a time. “That's because I'm perfect.”
“In every way,” he agreed and bent his head to kiss her, the lengthy stubble that had been building on his cheeks all week grazing against her chin. She smiled and reached up to gently rake her fingernails through the dark thatch along his jaw; Shawn closed his eyes, breathing a sigh against her temple, tickling the loose strands there and her eyes slipped closed briefly as well. She smoothed the back of her fingers down over the long tendon in his neck and then kissed his scratchy cheek.
“Go on,” she said, “Go get changed and I'll cut this up.”
Instead of pulling away, Shawn looked at her for a few long seconds, until she was ready to ask, “What?” Then he took her by the elbow, drawing her close again and pressing his mouth to hers in a kiss that made her legs go a little wobbly, like he wasn't going to be back out in just a few minutes. Like he was never going to see her again.
She felt lightheaded when he finally pulled back a little. He edged back to go to the bedroom and then leaned back in for one more kiss.
“Shawn,” she murmured, struggling to focus on something other than her fluttering heartbeat and the heat in her lips.
“I'm just glad to see you,” he told her. He finally turned and headed down the hallway, but it was almost a full minute before Juliet regained enough of her faculties to pad into the kitchen and begin slicing up the pineapple.
When Shawn rejoined her in the living room, the pineapple had been cut up and set out on the coffee table with a six pack of bottled beer.
Shawn had showered, his half-dry hair slowly fluffing up, and changed into a pair of plaid boxers and a plain t-shirt. The stubble remained. They reached the couch as one, Shawn's arm going around her back and they sank down on it together, Juliet curling her feet up beneath her, leaning her head into his shoulder. She looked up at him and traced the tip of her index finger along the curve of one of the dark circles beneath his eyes. “It's been a long week,” she said, and her fingers drifted down to his cheek, smoothing the rough hairs beneath her hand. Shawn's only reply was a soft murmur. He laid his head back against the couch cushions and she traced the lines of his clavicles with her fingers, eyes drifting along the long line of his throat. “Are you going to sleep tonight?”
A weary smile blinked across his face. “I'll be lucky if I'm awake more than ten minutes at this rate, Jules.”
Juliet smiled. “I don't mind. That's why I made us a light dinner.”
Shawn grinned and his eyes cracked open. “I don't think pineapple and beer is very nutritionally sound.”
“And since when are you worried about whether or not anything is nutritionally sound?” she asked, reaching over to snag a piece of the freshly cut fruit. She slipped a chunk of it between his lips.
His eyes closed again, savoring the flavor.
When he had swallowed, she brushed another slice to his lips and murmured, “Oh,” as bit of juice slid down his bottom lip. She leaned forward, capturing it with her mouth before it could slip down into the stubble on his chin.
Shawn turned his head into her mouth's caresses and the contact melted into languid, tart kisses, each of them tasting back and forth until the pineapple flavor had faded completely and Juliet felt like getting up ever again might not be a possibility.
Shawn let out a long, slow breath, the lines in his face softened, and Juliet slipped a slice into her own mouth, laying her head against his shoulder again. “Congratulations, by the way,” she said.
He tilted his head, looking down at her in surprise. “Gus?”
She smiled. “Carlton.”
“No way,” Shawn said, surprise turning to disbelief. She giggled.
“He knew I was worried.”
Shawn's head hit the back sofa cushion again. “Ah,” he said, “Now it all makes sense. It was about you, not me.”
Juliet laughed. “He cares about you, too.”
“Sure, the way a dog cares about it's favorite chew toy,” Shawn said off-handedly, but she could see the faint smile around his mouth. He brushed his lips against the top of her head a second later and said softly, “I'm sorry I wasn't the one who called you.”
One of Juliet's hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, palm pressing up against the warm skin over his ribs and she wrinkled her nose. “I know how it is when you finish a case. Your brain kind of explodes.” She made the noise and Shawn started to laugh from deep in his chest, the sound bouncing all the way through her and vibrating in her own chest.
She smiled and wound her arms around his neck, dragging him down with her, still laughing, as she stretched out on the couch. “I picked the best girl in the entire world,” he said when the laughter had faded, and his voice was rich with warmth and the same happiness Juliet could feel rolling like liquid through her chest.
“Let's sleep out here tonight,” she murmured, pulling his arms up over her head so that his elbows were at just enough of an angle to keep his body from smashing her breathless, but far enough so that he fit against her like a second skin.
His eyes searched her face for a moment and then he bowed his head, lips touching the side of her throat. Her breath caught and then again as he moved to another spot. Between movements he said huskily, “Jules...I...will sleep...wherever...you want.”
Her eyes closed and she stopped breathing all together as his lips pressed just above the center of her chest, at the edge of the t-shirt collar. “I will happily...not sleep...wherever you want...too,” he added, smiling as he trailed back up the other side of her throat.
Juliet caught his face in her hands and said as sternly as she could manage, “There will be no not sleeping until these bags under your eyes aren't black anymore.”
Shawn whined—literally whined. “A week of misery, Jules and you're going to deny me a little pleasure?”
“A little?” she said, pulling her head back.
His mouth worked, “No, that's— But— That's not what I—”
Juliet continued to look unimpressed.
“Juuuules,” he whined, pulling his elbows in a little closer to her ears to bring himself nearer to her, ducking his chin down in an attempt to look more pathetic. He drew a finger along her hairline and down around the back of her ear, which drew a shiver out of her, the way it always did.
“Shawn,” she said sternly.
He pouted, finger trailing along her hairline to the nape of her neck.
“Shawn,” she repeated. When that didn't damper his pleading expression in the least, she threaded her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. He grinned, following willingly as she pulled his head toward her. Bringing her lips close enough to graze his ear, she whispered, “Do you remember what we talked about last time?”
Shawn went very still, swallowing. “Yeah,” he rasped.
“We can do that,” she murmured and he let out a wavering breath. “But,” she added. “Not until after you've gotten some sleep.”
Shawn groaned, his head dropping down onto her shoulder.
“And if you don't get some sleep, we won't do anything for at least another three weeks,” she added. Not that she intended to stick to that punishment if he pressed—it had been a long time for her, too.
“You play dirty, Jules,” he moaned into her shoulder.
She shrugged. “One of us has to look after your health.”
“Fine,” he groaned. “But you had better not come home wearing anything you value.”
It was a struggle to smother her smile and the flutter of excitement that kindled in her belly. “We'll see how those circles look tomorrow.”
Shawn sighed, warm, moist breath fanning out across her neck, his scritchy cheek against her jawline. He had stopped thinking while they were talking and now his weight rested heavily on top of her, his body warm and not uncomfortable.
“Come on, Shawn,” she said softly, nudging him gently in the ribs.
He mumbled unhappily and brushed his lips across her neck again. “I thought you wanted to sleep here,” he said and already the weight of sleep had caught up with him again, coming out in every syllable. Then he realized. “I'm smushing you.”
Before she could say anything he had pushed up, slid his legs beneath hers and then pulled her up into his arms before lying back down with her on top, tucked between him, his arm, and the sofa back. He reached up with the other arm, tugging down the blanket they left hanging over the couch and it settled down over them.
“Izzat better?” he mumbled and she nodded, his heart beating steadily in her ear. “T'morrow, Jules,” he vowed and she smiled, pulling her hands out from under the blanket to clap twice.
The light blinked out above them.
“I love you,” she whispered.