"Shawn!”
Gus pounded his fist against the door for the umpteenth time.
“Come on, Shawn! Open up!”
A muffled answer came through the walls.
“No! I will never open up again!”
Gus rolled his eyes heavenward and ran a hand over his face. His friend had locked himself inside his apartment for the better part of a week, refusing every visitor and phone call.
“Shawn, if you don’t open this door right now, I swear I will hunt down every pineapple in Santa Barbara so you won’t have any for the next year.”
There was a heavy moment of silence before a thump was heard, followed by the sound of shuffling feet. The latch was thrown and Gus quite suddenly found himself face to scruffy face with Shawn.
“Dude. You look awful.”
A pair of bloodshot eyes narrowed into a glare as Gus made his way into the apartment. His mouth formed a silent “O” of astonishment. The place was a disaster. And we’re not talking food cartons and beer cans scattered in various places. We’re talking blitzed out, straight up, hardcore, call-Hazmat-because-there’s-a-serious-risk-of-disease-in-here Disaster.
Gus turned and surveyed his friend in comparison. Shawn was dressed in shredded jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. His hair was sticking out at odd angles all over his head and he was in desperate need of a shave.
“Shawn…man.”
The brunette wandered over to his sofa and settled into the Shawn-shaped imprint. He pointed to a box on the coffee table.
“She wants her CD’s and her V For Vendetta movie back.”
Gus shook his head and sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t know you were that serious about her.”
“Apparently, neither did she.”
It was quiet for several minutes as Gus searched for something encouraging to say and Shawn wallowed in self-pity. Finally, the darker man spoke up.
“She’s just one girl, Shawn. You’ll find somebody else.”
He looked over at his friend and inwardly cringed as Shawn sank lower into the cushions, mouth set firmly into a scowl.
“Her loss, right?”
A grumbled response was all he got.
“Come on. Take a shower, shave, get dressed. We’re going out.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes, Shawn. You need to get out of here, get some fresh air.”
“I don’t want fresh air, I want to sit here and mold into my couch.”
“Get up, Shawn.”
“Not happening.”
Gus threw his hands into the air and stood, pacing in front of his friend in frustration.
“Get up and get dressed, or I’ll make you.”
Shawn snorted but didn’t so much as twitch from his position.
“I mean it, Shawn.”
Silence and a vacant stare.
Gus grabbed both of the brunette’s hands and yanked. Shawn yanked back.
“Don’t make this difficult, Spencer.”
“I’ll make it as difficult as I want, Guster.”
Another short tug-of-war.
“I’ll call your dad.”
“He won’t care.”
“I’ll take your motorcycle keys.”
“I’m not going anywhere anyways.”
“Shawn!”
“Gus.”
“Arhg! Fine!”
Gus flopped back down onto the couch and shoved his friend over.
“You suck, Shawn.”
“Your face sucks.”
The two sat in a companionable moment of silence, one lending quiet support while the other accepted it with as little grace as he could muster. They stayed that way for a few minutes before Shawn heaved a sigh and turned to Gus.
“Tacos?”
Gus nodded and stood. “Take a shower first. I’m not going to be seen with you like that in public.”
“It’s no worse than every other day.”
“True.”
Shawn headed down the hallway to the bathroom. Gus tidied up his apartment while he showered. He grabbed his car keys and they left, walking out into the parking lot.
Shawn got into the passenger seat as Gus came around the other side. There was a pause before he started the car and then,
“I’m keeping V For Vendetta.”
“I heard it sucked.”
“It does. Want to watch it tonight?”
“Yea.”
END
“Don’t be afraid, little flock. Your Father is pleased to give you the kingdom.” -- Luke 12:32
Author's Chapter Notes:
I wrote this on a whim, late at night because my muse demanded it. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych nor do I own V For Vendetta, which is a great movie.