A/N: So I finally decided to just go ahead and post all my lj stories on this account, regardless of rating. This story was the first time I ever wrote smut, and it is a prequel to my much longer Shawn/Despereaux fic, Sin. WARNINGS: Slash, graphic sex, dub-con.
A Thief in the Night
No shit. Shawn shrugged of his jacket and let it fall on the floor with a wet sound. He'd put it away later. Then he kicked of his shoes and pulled off his socks. They were soaked through.
"It's pouring outside," he finally replied.
"Don't you have a car?"
"You know I don't."
As Shawn's eyes adjusted to the darkness in his apartment he could see the faint outline of Despereaux sitting in a chair in the corner.
"It's been a while," Shawn continued conversationally.
"You were… uncomfortably close to catching me last time," Despereaux said.
"Then why risk coming back?"
"You already know the answer to that, Mr. Spencer."
Yeah. He did. Shawn felt a shiver go down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He could almost see the predatory grin on Despereaux's face, despite the darkness. This wasn't the first time the would-be art thief had come to his apartment and Shawn doubted it would be the last. Despereaux would keep coming back so long as Shawn did nothing about it.
Of course, if Shawn did anything about it Despereaux had made it perfectly clear he would not live to regret it. But sometimes he had to wonder if that was the only reason.
'Of course it is. You don't get anything out of what he does to you.'
It was getting harder though. Not leaning into his touch, not responding to those searing kisses. Not let himself go. Just move mechanically, mind unattached, and wait for it to be over.
While Shawn's mind wandered, Despereaux had stood up and was half way across the room before Shawn even knew. The fake psychic took an unconscious step backwards, lifting his arms slightly in a half-hearted attempt to protect himself.
Warm hands grasped his shoulders and pulled him closer. Shawn held back a gasp as hot lips found his neck kissing, sucking, biting. He fought the urge to lean in, but he was so cold and the body in front of him was so warm. His leg brushed against something hard and Shawn blushed despite himself.
"Don't be so stiff," Despereaux whispered in between kisses. "I think you ought to learn to let yourself go every once in a while, Spencer."
For one moment Shawn could see a flash of dark hair instead of blonde, soulful blue eyes instead of the cold, dark ones looking into his and it was enough to make him moan softly.
Despereaux grinned smugly against his neck and started pushing him backward, towards the bedroom. Shawn tried to pull himself back together, but the damage was done. It was like a dam had broke and suddenly every touch set his skin on fire and he had to hold back wanton moans. Despereaux's hands were moving under his shirt, pulling the wet fabric from his skin. His hands were calloused and rough and Shawn wondered, not for the first time, when a man like Despereaux, a man who lived for luxury and comfort, had ever done rough work.
One hand found his nipple and twisted it softly, making Shawn gasp. Despereaux's mouth latched onto his, his tongue taking advantage of the fact it was open, circling Shawn's mouth lazily. It was getting harder and harder for Shawn to stay unresponsive, he was getting light headed and aroused, his cock hardening against the older man's leg. And he was still so cold, shivering like a leaf in the wind.
Shawn let out a shocked yelp as he lost his balance and fell backwards, onto his bed. Despereaux dove in after him, somehow managing to pull of Shawn's shirt while they were falling. He started trailing light kisses along Shawn's jaw, continuing down his neck and stopping to suck at his collarbone. Shawn's breathing was getting erratic and his pants uncomfortably tight. He needed them to come off.
'Because they itch. Just because they itch, not because I'm- Oooooh.'
Shawn moaned out loud for the second time that night. While Despereaux's mouth had been busy on Shawn's neck, his hand had trailed down below his waist and was currently massaging the bulge in Shawn's pants.
"Fuck…" Shawn cursed softly. Despereaux smirked and removed his hand. Shawn looked down too see what he was doing, but it was too dark. When he heard the zipper being pulled down, he suddenly felt a twinge of panic. What was he doing? Why was he letting this happen?
'This is going to far. You're not supposed to let him go below the waist!'
His pants were being pulled down and Shawn had yet to respond. He had to stop this, but he didn't want to. Oh god, he didn't want to!
"N-no," he managed.
'Great going. Real effective. Stutter him into submission. At the least you can say you tried. Idiot.'
But then his boxers were down and Despereaux's hand was back on his dick and he could no longer form coherent thought. Despereaux stroked him slowly, palm rubbing over the head of his cock, then sliding up and down, going faster and faster.
Shawn screwed his eyes shut, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. It had been a while since he'd let himself go with anyone, despite what his carefree attitude might suggest, and the temptation was too great.
Suddenly Shawn was being flipped over. His breath caught in his throat, but he couldn't do more than wriggle with Despereaux's weight on him and his legs still shaking after the hand job. Fabric on skin and it was just then that Shawn realized that while he was completely naked, Despereaux was still fully dressed.
But the most jarring realization was that even though he hadn't touched the older man all evening, Shawn could still feel the rock hard erection poking his back through layers of fabric.
This wasn't about physical pleasure or intimacy. This was about domination. Shawn suddenly felt very weak and more than a little helpless. There was no way for him to stop this from happening, and the most terrifying thing was that he didn't want to stop it.
The sound of a tube flicking open. Shawn could smell something vaguely fruity and almost snickered, because something so cheap and generic like that just didn't suit Despereaux at all. Then a finger was teasing at his opening, circling it slowly. Despereaux's tongue repeated the motion on his shoulder blades.
Then the finger was being pushed inside him, sliding slowly in and out. Shawn tensed up at the intrusion. It wasn't because he'd never done this before, he had, but rather because of who was doing it. The whole scenario felt dirty and just plain wrong and Shawn knew it shouldn't turn him on as much as it did.
Another finger added, speeding up. Shawn forced himself to relax, knowing it would hurt like hell later if he didn't. Suddenly the fingers hit his prostate and he let out a gasping moan. Despereaux smirked and aimed there again, and again and again. Incredibly slow and teasing and Shawn was close to falling apart. He pushed against the fingers unconsciously, trying to get the art thief to speed up. Despereaux finally complied and then added a third finger. His hand was shaking slightly and Shawn could tell that the older man was slowly losing control of himself, but the thought was not as comforting as he expected.
A rustle and a tearing sound. Despereaux had gotten tired of waiting. It was just as good, because one more minute of this kind of teasing and Shawn might have begged him to just fuck him into the mattress already. And that was not something he wanted to admit in his head, much less out loud. A zipper being pulled down.
Although Shawn's eyes were still closed, he could see Despereaux clearly in his mind's eye, pulling down his pants and briefs just enough to pull out his dick and put on the condom. A soft groan, the first mindless sound from Despereaux this evening.
And then he was pushing into Shawn, slowly, slowly, but it still hurts so much and Shawn was shaking again, biting his cheek to keep any sound from escaping. Despereaux continued to push, he himself shivering, clinging to whatever little self control he had left. Finally he was completely sheathed, balls resting against Shawn's ass and he paused for a moment, giving both himself and Shawn room to breathe. Despereaux's hands stroked along Shawn's sides, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the mattress.
He pulled slowly out and then slammed back in. A couple more pushes and he finds Shawn's prostate again, causing the fake psychic to moan loudly.
"Yes," Despereaux grunted quietly. "Make that sound again."
Shawn was too far gone to question the command and simply complied. Despereaux faltered for a moment, but kept up the steady, slow rhythm.
"My name," he whispered fervently. "Say my name."
"Pierre." It was barely audible, shy and reluctant but Despereaux groaned at the sound of it.
"Pierre." This time it was a little louder and a little more desperate. The slow rhythm was making Shawn lose control.
"Tell me what you want."
"Faster," Shawn pleaded quietly. "Ooh, please, Pierre." He sounded like a porn star but found it very difficult to care. "Faster."
Despereaux mercifully complied and sped up. He slammed into Shawn harder with each thrust, becoming more erratic and frenzied, but still careful to hit his prostate every time. One hand released Shawn's wrist and went back to his cock, pumping in time with his thrusts. Shawn was coming apart, moaning and raising his hips to meet every thrust. He was close, so close.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered hotly and then it was upon him, his body going rigid as he came all over his sheet, half-shouting Despereaux's name. Despereaux followed shortly after, a few more thrusts and he was done for.
They lay there for a few moments, panting. Then Despereaux pulled out of Shawn and stood up, legs still shaking. He quickly tore of the condom and threw it away, before pulling up his briefs and pants.
"Well, I think that's all for now, Mr. Spencer," Despereaux said coolly and combed through his hair with his fingers. He reached into his jacket and fished out and envelope, which he put on Shawn's nightstand. "You've earned it."
The art thief bent down and kissed Shawn briefly, then walked out, leaving the younger man lying still in the same position on his bed. Shawn glanced at the envelope, knowing it contained a clue regarding Despereaux's next crime. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to care. He crawled underneath the sheets, too exhausted to even think about changing them right then.
'I'll change them in the morning.'
Under dirty sheets and with a dirty conscience, Shawn curled up and fell into an uneasy sleep.