A/N: This is my first stab at Psych fic-ing. I'm pretty damn new to the fandom so don't be too harsh. I'm also lacking in a beta so if anyone wants to be a beta for me, let me know!! 49 chapters to follow this one, assuming I don't get lazy/busy and forget. In any case, all chapters can be read as one shots. So if I forget, no cliff hangers!

Chapter Title: Motion

Rating: PG-13 sounds about right

Pairings: Lassy/Shawn, possibly Gus/Juliet in later chapters, yet to be decided. Shassi centric in any case.

Summary: Shawn is not the only one doing the seducing in the relationship.

Disclaimers: None of this belongs to me. Obviously.

It doesn't matter how many times Carlton does it, Shawn is still fascinated by the way he can still sweep the pseudo-psychic off of his feet and make him feel like it's the first time all over again. It's not about what he says so much. It's about the way he moves; the way the Irish detective seduces Shawn over and over.

He's not like Shawn, not all over the place and not over eager about getting through their meals and into the bedroom. He sits back, relaxes and Shawn can never seem to tear his eyes away from the older man, not for a second.

While Shawn is obviously flirty, very much the flaming queen, Carlton hides his romancing. When they eat out, he'll keep up a normal conversation, glaring at Shawn when he gets too embarrassing. Sometimes, when the older male gets excited about some victory in work, he leans forward a bit, his face seems a bit less dark and he gestures vaguely with his hands in a way that leaves Shawn oddly wanting to leave the restaurant right then. Well, that or throw him down on the table and fuck him right there.

When food comes to their table, Shawn knows he's in trouble. Carlton eats slowly, savors his meal. It's not too often that he can really relax. Even though it may look like he gets no where, what with Shawn outpacing him on cases somewhat often, Carlton works hard. He's good at his job, just not showy and doesn't feel that need to make a big deal about his victories. Even at home, he works, hunched over his files and tense. For Shawn, work ends when he's home. Carlton almost never seems to really let go of his cases.

So when he does relax, Carlton really does relax. He savors his food, eating slowly and carefully. Something about the way he eats on date night seems rather obscene, the way his tongue smoothly glides over his lips to catch stray crumbs, how he presses his fork to his mouth while he decides what to nibble at first.

By the time they've finished eating; Shawn's always dying to go. Date night can only end one way and Carlton's sultry behavior is maddening. By the time Carlton signals a waiter for the check, Shawn's already squirming, trying to play a smooth game of footsie under the table.

Carlton pays and they head out, Shawn clinging to Carlton and trying his damnedest to make the older male laugh. Even now, the movements Carlton makes are enough to drive Shawn up a wall. He sort of sways, shoulder brushing shoulder, hip brushing hip. If they weren't in a public place, Shawn might just throw him down there. As it were, he already entertained ideas of wild kissing right there and then.

Sometimes they'll make it as far as the car and on one rare occasion, they made it all the way home. But normally, as they walk from the restaurant, Shawn decides he can't wait anymore and finds a wall or a car or a pole or a tree or something and he'll push Carlton against it for a rather ferocious make-out session. They rarely made it home without both males looking flushed.

But it wasn't just about how well Carlton kissed (very well) or how sexually needy Shawn always seemed to be. It was about those in between motions. The way they spoke with their bodies, Shawn screaming 'pay attention to me, love me,' Carlton merely suggesting 'you know, I can do a neat little thing with my tongue if you'd care to find out.'