Work Text:
“What are you planning on getting your dad?” Asks Gus as he flips through a Home Depot magazine. He’s spent the last ten minutes circling various tools with black sharpie and starring the stand out options. Shawn glances up, momentarily diverting his attention from the growing card tower in front of him.
“…for?”
“For Father’s Day, Shawn. You do know that’s just a week away, right?”
Shawn huffs out a laugh, placing another two cards on the tower before replying,
“Yeah, no. We don’t do that.”
“You can’t just not do Father’s Day!” Chides Gus, setting the magazine down with a gust of air that sends Shawn’s tower toppling. Shawn stares at the fallen pile dejectedly.
“Dude, you killed it. In cold blood.”
“Shawn, I’m serious here! You can’t just not get your dad a gift because you guys don’t always get along.”
Shawn’s expression hardens for a second before he manually relaxes it back into his usual carefree demeanor.
“Gus, the day my dad stops signing off his texts to me with ‘sincerely, Henry Spencer’, and switches to ‘love, Dad’ is the day I’ll buy him a hammer from the Home Depot Father’s Day collection.” he pauses then adds, “He really does need to learn that he doesn't have to sign off texts at all. Though you can't blame him when he grew up with quill, ink, and little baby birds “
“All I’m saying is, my dad and I fight sometimes but he’s still my old man and I know that I owe him a whole lot.”
“It’s not the same, okay? Just drop it.” Gus can tell that Shawn wants to wiggle out of the conversation. It doesn’t take hyper observation skills to notice the way his knee is bouncing up and down and his eyes are looking everywhere but at Gus. But he presses onward.
“Actually, I won’t drop it. And you know why? Because I feel like it’s about time you realize that you’re letting teenage Shawn’s issues become adult Shawn’s issues.”
“We’re the same person, you realize that right? Teenage me, and adult me? We didn’t split like a symbiote.”
“But don’t you think it’s time to make amends? I’ve forgiven my parents for sabotaging my entire academic and professional future by denying my entrance to my dream prep school.” Anger flashes in Gus’s eyes and he takes a steadying breath, “Because that is the mature thing to do.”
“Gus, you know I’m not inclined to resign to maturity.” Shawn sweeps the fallen card tower into a deck, and deals Gus seven cards before dealing himself an equal amount. He places the remaining cards in a fanned out pile in the middle of the desk.
“Oh, I know. I know that I pay for all of your expenses, and that I constantly have to clean up after your messes. And I know that you are holding a petty grudge against your dad!”
Shawn and Gus don’t fight. Not really, not about anything important. They’ll fight about Shawn eating the last Pop Tart and not throwing away the box. They’ll fight about Gus refusing to pause during TV shows despite knowing that Shawn enjoys providing commentary. And they’ll even fight about the numerous times Shawn endangers Gus’s life and how Gus in turn runs away screaming. But they never fight about anything like this.
Shawn stares at him, silent. Gus had crossed the invisible line in the sand, and inwardly he cringes at his tone but he doesn’t back down. However, the longer Shawn doesn’t snap back with a sarcastic remark, the more he squirms in his seat. He’s a second away from folding and apologizing, when Shawn finally says.
“Have any eights?”
“Shawn!” Cries Gus, before sighing and glancing at his hands of cards, “No.”
“I believe the term is go fish.” Replies Shawn, before grabbing the top card in the deck.
“Any queens?” Asks Gus.
“Only one.” Shawn smirks, “You.”
“Come on, when are you going to drop that?” Groans Gus, reaching for a card from the draw pile.
“I’m nobody’s pawn, I’m a queen.” Mimics Shawn in a high pitched voice before asking, “Any fours?”
“I don’t sound like that.” Gus hands over two fours which Shawn slips into his hand of cards with a celebratory fist pump.
Once again Gus failed to get Shawn to talk about anything real with him. They can joke, and riff, and fight, but they suck at the real stuff. There’s exceptions of course. Times where Gus has peeled back Shawn’s defensive outer layer and learned a little more of what goes on inside his mind. But it appears that today is not going to be one of those days.
That’s until Shawn lays down his cards and says,
“I know you think you know my dad, but you don’t, okay? Yes, you practically lived at my house but you didn’t live at my house. You saw that he was strict and super into the whole ‘train your kid to be a super cop’ routine. But you didn’t see everything.”
Now it’s Gus’s turn to be nervous.
“What didn’t I see?” He asks, not sure if he actually wants to hear the answer, but knowing he needs to.
Shawn leans back in his rolling chair, so far that Gus is scared for a second that it might topple over. Finally he straightens back up, and shakes his head, laughing.
“No, it’s stupid actually.” He reaches for the Home Depot magazine and points at the electric wrench, “Pick that up for me and I’ll spot you. Now how about any kings?
“Nuh uh, Shawn don’t be—“ he fumbles, trying to think of something that Shawn would say, “—don’t be my second left knee. What didn’t I see?”
Shawn raises a slightly bemused eyebrow before nodding. He’s silent again for a moment as he picks up two playing cards and carefully makes a tent. Then he starts to speak, avoiding eye contact with Gus.
“I mean, he didn’t hit me or anything. I’m not saying he was the worst dad in the world. It’s just… he was intense.”
“Yeah?”
“Like, for Easter most parents will hide the eggs around the backyard in places that are just hard enough to be challenging but not so hard that the kids get frustrated and give up, you know?” Gus nods, “But my dad hid them in a hole in the ground covered by a tarp.”
“That’s… weird, but not that bad?”
“And the tarp was covered in broken glass.” He glances down at his hands, “Lost a little blood, but I did get some skittles so who can really complain.”
“Oh, that’s—“ Gus scrambles for something to say, but before he can Shawn continues.
“I know he did what he did to unlock my full potential or whatever, but couldn’t he have done that without locking me in his trunk or making me stay up all night on stakeouts? I flunked a math test because I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”
“You would have flunked anyway.” Gus replies, but there’s no real energy behind the insult.
“I’m just saying… he was too busy master yoda-ing me to ya know, be my dad. He’s never even told me he loves me.”
Gus huffs out a laugh before his eyes widen as he realizes that Shawn wasn’t joking.
“Seriously, he’s never said it?”
“Yeah, but we’re guys.” Replies Shawn with a shrug. Gus can see the protective shield closing back up.
“We say that we love eachother everyday.”
“That’s different!”
“Is it?”
“I don’t know, yeah? But we’re modern men comfortable in our sweet sexy masculinity. I mean look at you Gus, you’re wearing a pink button down.” Shawn leans forward and brushes a piece of lint off of the shirt in question, “My dad struggles with the mushy gushy stuff. I could solve the identity of the Zodiac killer and he’d say my performance was adequate. That’s what my entire childhood was. I passed, but with mostly B’s, never an A.”
Shawn makes no effort to continue the conversation after that point instead opting to continue building a card tower out of his go fish deck.
“Got any jacks? Or any card actually.” Shawn asks, his hands hovering protectively over the card tower. However it does little good because the card tower once again topples down when Gus stands up from the table.
“Come on, dude—“ he’s cut off when Gus envelopes him with an overly tight hug, “Woah, hey, what’s this about?”
“You are more than adequate, Shawn.”
“I know that, I’m awesome.” Replies Shawn softly.
“ I love you.” Says Gus intensely.
“Come on son, you know I love you too.”
“You don’t have to get your dad a Father’s Day present.”
“I know.” Replies Shawn before he sighs and adds, “But I will.”
Gus breaks away, frowning at Shawn. This entire conversation had started because Shawn wasn’t planning on getting Henry a gift.
“Why?”
“Because he’s my dad at the end of the day. And results are results, you know with the whole super cop thing. Well, super psychic, but that’s semantics.”
“That’s not what semantics means.”
Shawn stands up and stretches, before pointing at the Home Depot magazine at the listing Gus starred.
“ And that toolbox is buy one get one. Have ‘em gift wrap it for me, yeah?“
“If you ever need to talk about anything, you can—“
“I know. Now I have a certain lanky detective to intrude upon, are you coming?”
Shawn tosses the keys to the blueberry to Gus who catches them with one hand. They’re out the door in seconds, leaving behind them a marked up magazine, a pile of cards, and the start of a conversation that still leaves much to be unpacked.