You Need a Star

Gosh darn, writing Gus is hard. Which is strange, because I relate to him way more than I do to Shawn.

Also, this title sucks. So suggestions (*ahem* reviews *ahem*) would be helpful.

Everyday, he felt it. Every moment, every case, every goddamn time Shawn said something stupid, he felt it.

But he would never dream of saying anything.

What they had was too good, too easy to break, lose.

Shawn knew that he could come in any time, lounge about, and fool around with Gus whenever he wanted, irregardless of what Gus was doing. And Gus got to look at Shawn, listen to him, be with him, no questions asked.

(How else could he hang around a guy so much with everybody assuming it was normal? If there were any other circumstances, questions would have been raised. But there was never really anybody but Shawn.)

No way was he going to mess that up.

And Shawn never said anything when Gus started staring maybe a little too long, or touching him more than what might be appropriate.

(So Gus had dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, Shawn knew, and he didn't care. It was all he could hope for. Because no way was someone as daring as Shawn, as funny as Shawn, was going to care about someone as serious and boring and straigh-laced as him.)

But then Shawn started bringing home girls. Just random ones, at first, for quick, one-night stands that he would tell Gus all about. And then it was Abigail, Shawn's first long-term relationship. It killed Gus, but she didn't come around often, and Gus could pretend that everything was the same.

(But he knew what Shawn was saying. Don't do this, buddy. What we have is good enough; you're not going to get anything else. Why would you? Look at yourself. And Gus agreed. He knew Shawn deserved happiness, something better.)

But then Canada happened. And Juliet, and the kiss, and Gus was losing him. Shawn started bringing her everywhere, or just spending time with her, or spending the night at her house rather than Gus's. But what could he do? There was no way Gus could compete.

She was spontaneous and funny, and, while willing to go along with Shawn, she was also independent.

And a girl.

While Gus, obviously, was not. He was the serious one, the voice of reason when Shawn wanted to arrest a ghost or frame a dinosaur. The background player, the cleanup crew.

While Shawn was a star.

And Gus knew that Shawn deserved someone who could match that, another star. Someone like Juliet. Or, at least, someone who wasn't Gus.