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Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.

A/N: I don’t really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus’ condition may not be scientific at all. This is just a fanfiction, not to be taken seriously.

Chapter 10

"Well?" asked Dr Moore. "Why did you stop? What happened after that?"

Shawn jerked from his faraway thoughts at her voice. "Um... yeah, then Mr. Guster... told us that some games were okay to play, and some were not." He felt like he could hear Gus's father now, the old memory of the man talking in a calm, firm voice, as both the little boys stood with their heads hung. "Then he told me to go home."

"When did you meet Gus again? How did he act?" the psychologist prodded.

"Two days later." said Shawn, scratching his chin. "He was a little...stiff, I guess. I asked him if his dad had said anything more to him after I left, but he did not want to talk about it."

"Did...um, the dynamics between the two of you change in any way after this?"

"No! Well, not between us, but things changed a little, because Mr. G said that we spent too much time playing just by ourselves, and he and my dad got us playing basketball with a group of kids. They also made us go to scout camp."

"Why do you think that is, Shawn?"

"I don't know!" Shawn snapped, "Maybe they wanted us to become more 'manly' and un-original! Anyway, is not that your job, to think up the answers?"

The psychologist stared at Shawn for a few seconds, then said, "Okay, here's what I think, Mr. Spencer. You and your friend Gus shared a deep pre-adolescent attraction---"

"That's so dumb, there never was anything like that---" Shawn yelled heatedly.

Dr Moore raised a hand to stop him, "At least there was on Mr. Guster's side. Maybe he had acknowledged the attraction more than you did. But then after the confrontation with his father, he probably decided to repress those feelings."

"This is all con--um--conjuctichure---"


"I have heard it both ways. Its all guesswork." Shawn doggedly said. "And why would he do that anyway, if he did feel that way, why would he hide it?"

"Shawn, you told me about your detective work, your partnership with Gus. You said, Gus was reluctant to go along with you most of the times. Can you elaborate on that?"

"Oh, he wants to come along, he wants all the adventure we used to dream of as kids. Gus just has a lot of hang-ups you know, like how Psych stuff is messing up the order in his life, how I am how he has to concentrate on his boring-ass job 'cause its what pays the bill, how skydiving is bad for his heart, hanging from ledges gives him carpal tunnel..... But once I get him into a case, he loves the thrill, the fun. He wants me to convince him."

"So Mr. Guster likes the thrill, he loves what he can find when not playing safe, but he is also the sort of man who wants order in his life. He has got a lot rules for himself. He is afraid of change, chaos."

Shawn nodded, not finding any fault with this speech. "He is a contrary bastard."

"So Gus has two different sides to his personality. He wants what he wants, but he is afraid to go for it because of the side that hates disorder. If he feels something that is not okay, not allowed in his rulebook, he tries to repress it."

"Okay, I get what you are saying." Shawn said to her, "You think Gus has been going against his own feelings; keeping all that stuff he has kept in is splitting him apart; those two sides are making him two different persons!"

"That is a way to put it. The dissociative personality disorder is a form of psychosis. The root of it is deep in his psych, and it has come out because of mental and physical stress."

"But why? Why would it make him do the things that he did?"

"Gus, your friend is concerned with his lifelong values, his social image, what his family expects from him. But Burt, his alter ego does not have those concerns."

Shawn was silent for a long time. Then he looked up and asked, "Will he be alright again? You can fix him, right?"

Dr Moore sighed. "That is the hard part. DID is a very rare mental disorder, so we do not have sufficient data, research, survey, or a general consensus on treatment method. Each case is different. In Mr. Guster's case, I think the most important part is, acknowledgement. He must recognize his own feelings, and acknowledge this repressive tendency of his; then realize that he does not have to become a whole different person to have what he wants."

Shawn stared at her silently. Acknowledgement? How would he tell Gus what had happened?

"It will take time, of course." Dr Moore continued. "He'd have to go into psychotherapy for quite some time."

"How would I get him to do that?" croaked Shawn. "He would ask why, and----"

"I understand how you feel," the doctor said kindly, "I think it be best if Gus hears everything from a trained professional. What you have to do is, bring him here; tell him you are worried about his stress problem and want to see someone."

"Okay, okay...." Shawn breathed. He was not sure he could do it. But he must, for Gus' sake....

"Shawn? It needs to be as soon as possible. We don't want Gus to have another attack. He might do anything in that state. You understand that, right?"

"Yes....," Shawn muttered. "Yes, I'll bring him here."

Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.

A/N: Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from Dissociative identity disorder or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges in living out some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens.
A/N: I don’t really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus’ condition may not be scientific at all.
A/N: I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language.

Chapter 9

"Let's continue where we left off, Mr. Spencer." Dr Moore said.

"Um, yeah, where were we again?" asked Shawn, even though he knew the answer perfectly well.

Dr Moore gave him a look. "Mr. Guster's father walked in on you two."

Shawn sighed. He did not want to do this. Some memories were best hidden away, in a box with a big heavy lock; not forgotten, of course, because Shawn did not forget anything.

"This seems so pointless," he whined, "How is it going to do Gus any good, talking about some stupid stuff that happened a gazillion years ago?"

"Psychological disorders often have their roots in childhood experiences," Dr Moore said, a touch of exasperation in her voice. "Now, let's not waste any more time."

Shawn sighed even more deeply and began.


"You can't be the zombie, Gus." Shawn told his friend firmly. "Playing black zombies is offensive."

Gus considered this for a moment, it made no sense. Shawn and his ultra PC ideas usually did not.

"Why would that be offensive, Shawn? Can't a dead black man walk just as freely as a dead white man?"

Shawn threw Gus a Dude-don't-be-dense look.

"Because of Michael Jackson." he said, like it explained everything. Gus raised an eyebrow. "Thriller...zombies...hello? Its a stereotype."

"No, its not." said Gus.

"You know how in the movies they always show only black kids doing the thriller dance!" Shawn said, warming to his theme.

"That's because black kids are more athletic and can dance better." Gus said in a superior voice.

"White guys can do it just as well!" Shawn challenged, goaded. He put on a record and music filled the room.

"Well, shake it up baby, now, shake it up baby, twist and shout, twist and shout!" Shawn lip-synched, dancing in front of the entertainment system . "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon baby now, come on baby, come on and work it on out!"

Gus watched him critically. "Your steps are too slow." he commented. "You gotta move your legs faster."

"The legs are not what matters," Shawn said, who was no great dancer, "Its all in the hips. Watch the hips. Shake it up, baby!" he twirled and moved his hips with the beat of the song.
He through Gus a saucy look over his shoulder.

"That's not even the Thriller dance!" Gus exclaimed. His eyes clung to Shawn's ass. Shawn concentrated on shaking his booty, running his hands through his own hair in an exaggerated sultry fashion. "Stop that, Shawn!"

"I do it way better than you do!" was Shawn's protest. He stopped dancing and wiped the light sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"I do a great Thriller, and you know it." Gus told him. Shawn did know it and he decided to let this one go. Plopping down on Gus' bed, he announced, "We'll watch Ferris Bueller's tonight."

"We watched that last week." Gus said, sitting down beside Shawn." And the week before."

"Its like potato chips." Shawn argued, "Watching it just once does you no good."

"I veto against Ferris Bueller."

"Well, what's your suggestion?"

"Hmm, we could watch Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure."

"Good idea!" approved Shawn. "Those dudes are awesome."

So they popped the cassette in, and the movie came on.

"I am Bill S. Preston, Esquire!"
"I am Ted...hold on, Bill, here you take it... I am Ted 'Theodore' Logan!"

"Why does he call himself a square?" wondered Shawn.

"Not 'a square', Shawn, esquire. Its a title of respect." Gus explained.

As the movie progressed, Shawn said, "They are a lot like us, aren't they?"

"In some ways..." agreed Gus. They watched as Ted hit a medieval armor wearing man on the head with a heavy object to save Bill. The onscreen friends hugged. "We don't have a band though."

"They are best buds, they are going through all this trouble just 'cause they won't let Ted's father separate them." Shawn scooted near his friend and put an arm around his shoulder.
"If we were Bill and Ted, who do you think would be who?"

"I'd definitely be Ted, 'cause I am tall like him." decided Gus. "And you would be Bill, 'cause he is blond."

"Well, Alex Winter is better looking anyway." Shawn declared, though he secretly thought Keanu Reeves was pretty fine too.

"Hmm, he is kind of cute, but Keanu Reeves is more manly."

"Since I am so much more manlier than you are, I must be Ted."

"Puh-lease, Shawn, you make Michael Jackson look manly. You went through a whole box of tissues when watching Its A Wonderful Life."

"You faint when you cut your finger!"

"Fear of blood is a pathological condition, Shawn." Gus said with dignity.

On the screen, Bill and Ted were being rescued from a gruesome fate by Socrates and Wild Bill Hickok.

"Hey, what do you think would happen if our parents tried to separate us?" Shawn asked.

"Why would they do that?" asked Gus, surprised. "We are not failing history."

"What if...one of us moves away or something?"

"It would never happen. We made a vow, remember?" Gus said reassuringly, putting his arm around Shawn's waist.

"Yeah, to be best friends forever." They smiled at each other, their faces inches apart. "We'll have a truck-load of fun together, have all kinds of adventures, until we die in a flying-car crash in 2067."

Gus grinned and leant forward to brush his lips against Shawn's.

"Gus! Shawn!"

The boys jumped and looked up to see the frowning face of Mr. Guster.


Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.

A/N: Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from Dissociative identity disorder or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges in living out some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens.
A/N: I don’t really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus’ condition may not be scientific at all.
A/N: I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language.

Chapter 8

“We’ll have to discuss the rest of your story tomorrow, Mr. Spencer.” Dr Moore said a little regretfully, “Its time for my next appointment.”

“Oh.” said Shawn, somewhat relieved that he would not have to suffer more of the doctor’s soul-probing right now. “Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow at 3 pm sharp.”

As he got up, Dr Moore said, “Don’t do anything …hasty in dealing with your friend.”

Shawn sat on a singularly uncomfortable chair in a busy little coffee shop. He was alone at the blue-and-white checks covered table, waiting for his breakfast. Shawn had not slept much in the previous night. In fact, he had not slept much after the incident in the Psych office two days ago....but Shawn would not let himself think about that, or everything would have to be relived, in vivid details.

Shawn gave himself a small shake.

"The service here is crap." he muttered, not too quietly. A passing waiter gave him a dirty look.

Shawn closed his eyes, and began to play Henry's favorite game with himself. Four hats in the room, he mentally recounted, two young men with red caps, a tan hat on an old guy enjoying a huge breakfast of egg Benedict, sausages, waffles and coffee, and a homemade Jughead beanie on a curly haired teen.

A waitress put Shawn's order in front of him. A burrito, and a pineapple smoothie. As Shawn reached to pick up the smoothie, the waitress' honeyed smile and glinting eyes put him on his guard.

She spit in it, thought Shawn, that waiter must have ratted.

He gave the waitress an equally honeyed smile, and put the smoothie back down. The girl huffed and stomped away.

When Shawn had finished his breakfast, (he left the smoothie untouched; it broke his heart to waste a pineapple smoothie, but he was not going to drink some psycho dame's spit!) he rode to the Psych office. He froze in the doorway as soon as he entered. Gus was at his desk, calmly going through the accounts, sipping from a Starbucks cup time to time. He looked up to see Shawn, and smiled.

"Hey Shawn."

"He-ey, Gus." Shawn replied. He looked at his best friend closely. Gus looked relaxed and serene, very unlike the last time he had seen him. "You are here bright and early."

"Yeah, got some good sleep the last few nights." Gus told him. "I know I have been a little cranky lately. Sorry about that."

"Cranky? Uh...yeah. Its cool." said Shawn. He walked to his desk, and started to fiddle with the collection of random things on it. His hands shook slightly. He was very aware that this was the first time he had come in close proximity of Gus after what happened.

"So, any new cases?" Gus asked. Shawn jumped.

"No, unless you count the vanishing pangolin mystery the Chief called me about yesterday. Solved it over the phone." He was lying of course. Shawn had not been answering his phone. His mind had been in a state of utter chaos.

Gus gave him a look that said Yeah right! and went back to the accounts.

Shawn sat down on his chair and booted his computer. Now he did not know how to act around Gus. It would have been better if they had a case to keep them busy. He peered at Gus over the edge of the monitor. Gus was wearing a blue button down and grey slacks, his clothes were as crisp as usual, not a crease in sight. His face looked the same as ever too, the big brown eyes in the cinnamon skinned face, the pouty lips. Somehow, subconsciously Shawn had expected him to be different. Somehow it seemed to him that Gus should look different, because surely Gus could not do those things to Shawn, and still look like the same Gus of old! The way Shawn had looked at Gus for twenty-five years had changed. Hell, he felt he had changed! Was he the same Shawn Spencer as he was before?

Gus' finger was tapping on the desk surface as he concentrated. The very fingers that had touched Shawn's skin, Shawn's cock...

Shawn wondered what would happen if Gus had a sudden attack of his illness right now. What would he do? Would he look at Shawn with that strange fiery look again? Would he grab Shawn and push him onto the desk?

Shawn's brain was working overtime, conjuring up image after image.

Gus pushes him onto the desk surface hard (it hurts just a little, not much). He leans down, letting his breath caress Shawn's neck. One hand is holding his wrists above his head in a tight grip. The other hand slides over Shawn’s torso, brushing against his nipples, letting the thumb count the ribs. Now Gus' breath is on his lips, tantalizing, making him wonder if he is going to kiss him or not. Gus' hand grabs Shawn's crotch in a slightly painful way, making him simultaneously gasp and buck up against the hand. A wet tongue slips into his mouth--


"Aa-h... huh?" Shawn was startled out of his impromptu fantasy. He realized that his right hand was on his denim covered cock, which was straining against the material. Gus was staring at him from across the room.

"Why are your eyes glazed?" Gus asked a little suspiciously, "You are not jerking off to porn in the office, are you?"

"N-no, of course not!" Shawn denied, and planted his eyes firmly on the computer screen. His face was flushed and hot.

He could not believe he came so close to jerking off to fantasies of being ravished by his best friend in the office, with said best friend sitting right there. Damn!


Fanfic: Butt Dial

Butt Dial

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.

Henry Spencer, clad in a gray t-shirt, faded jeans and his usual cap, entered his house. He was carrying a fish-filled bucket and fishing gear. It was sunset, and a warm fragrant breeze washed over Santa Barbara. Henry threw away his cap and came to the kitchen to make dinner. After quickly cleaning the fish, he began to fry them in a pan.


Henry picked up his cell phone, and saw ‘Shawn’ on the screen. With an exasperated sigh, he pressed the accept button and brought the phone to his ear.

“What now, Shawn?” he asked dispassionately, “Make it quick.”

A second passed, then another. There was no reply from the other side, not even a hello. All he could hear was faint muffled sounds, like the rustle of clothes.

“Shawn? Hellooo?”

No answer.
Henry wondered why Shawn had called him to say absolutely nothing. Then he heard a louder sound. It sounded like something hitting something else, maybe a body hitting a solid surface? Good god, was Shawn in some kind of trouble? Henry asked himself. Getting into trouble was nothing new for Shawn. He did it on a daily basis. Henry figured Shawn had pressed the call button of his phone at a critical moment, a call for help.

He heard a groan on the other side, and then distinct whimpers. Oh no, Shawn must be being tortured!

“Please….” he heard Shawn’s voice. Henry paled, his panicked thoughts going haywire. Shawn was being tortured, and he was begging for mercy. Something must be done, quick! He must call the police chief. But how can he know where Shawn is at the moment? Where should they look for him?

“Oh yes, please, yes!” the words came from the receiver, with more groans.

Henry stared at the phone. That was a weird thing to say, for a person who was being tortured! What was Shawn saying ‘Yes’ to?

“Yes, Gus, yes, harder!” screamed Shawn’s voice.

Henry jumped, squeaked and dropped his cellphone on the counter quickly. He stared at the thing like it might bite him.

“Good god…” Henry muttered. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “That monumental idiot! He must have called me accidentally!”
He thought about what he had just found out. This new information about his son’s way of life should have been staggering, but…

“Why am I not surprised?” he asked himself. “What’s more, how come I never knew?”

He wondered if this was a recent development, or had those two been…doing it all along? Shawn and Gus were far too close, and always had been, so it was very hard to tell.

“I guess this is why Shawn has been in Santa Barbara for so long.” thought Henry. “I gave him three months max before he went off in another of his crazy bungee cord jumping expeditions, but he stuck it out. Maybe he has finally found some stability.”

Suddenly he noticed a burnt smell in the air, and turned to find his fish charred and black.

“That idiot! He ruined my dinner!” Henry grumbled.

Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.

A/N: Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from Dissociative identity disorder or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens.
A/N: I don’t really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus’ condition may not be scientific at all.
A/N: I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language.

A/N: So sorry about the late update, had family stuff going on.

Chapter 7

“It wasn’t kissing kissing!” Shawn spluttered, “It was just...a thing! You know, kid stuff!”

“I see.” said the psychologist, and scribbled something on her pad. “Can you tell me about the first time?”


Five year old Shawn Spencer helped his best friend up from the ground.

“Are you okay, Gus? I did not mean to trip you!”

“You did trip me!” said little Gus, getting up and brushing himself with his hands. “Now I have a bump on my forehead!”

“I was practicing my kung-foo.” Shawn told him. “And you don’t have a cut or anything. No blood.”

“It hurts,” Gus said stubbornly. “I need my mom.”

“Why?” Shawn whined. “It looks fine. Let’s just play--”

“My mom can kiss it better.” Gus said in a grave voice. “She always kisses the hurt away.”

Shawn looked skeptical.

“How does that work?” he asked, not quite believing Gus’ mom had any such super power.

“She kisses where I have a bump or cut.”

“Does it get better?” Shawn probed.

“Yes, it gets better a bit later.”

“Well, then I can do that too!” Shawn declared. “You don’t have to go home for that.”

“You can do that?” Gus looked at him doubtfully.

“Sure.” Shawn said firmly. “Come here.”

Gus shuffled closer, and Shawn, putting both hands on his cheeks, touched his lips against the swelling on Gus’s forehead. He kept his lips there for a few seconds, hoping to convince Gus of their healing power.

“There, it will get better right away.” Shawn said as he pulled away. “Let’s play Morlock Hunt now.”

“Okay, but I get to be the hunter.”

End Flashback

“See?” Shawn said to the psychologist, “It was nothing! Just a kid thing.”

“I hear you, Mr. Spencer.” said Dr Moore. “Now, you said this was the first incident?”

“Oh yeah…”

“So what was the second?”

“Nothing, nothing at all!” said Shawn, “Just some silliness on a swing set once...”


“Run, Gus!” yelled an eight-year-old Shawn Spencer, “It’s coming after us!”

“Why did you have to tease the dog?” Burton Guster yelled back, as they both sprinted across the street.

Gus reached a five-feet high wall and began to climb over it.

“Wait for meeee!” screamed Shawn from behind, the bulldog almost at his heels. Gus sat astride the wall and helped Shawn climb up. Then they both jumped down on the other side, stopping for a second to listen to the dog’s angry barking.

“Phew!” said Shawn.

They were near a playground now, which was empty at that moment, it being high noon and scorching hot. They walked over to the swing set and plopped down on it.

“I think I have a fabia about dogs now.” Shawn declared.

“Phobia, Shawn.” Gus corrected.

“I have heard it both ways.”

Gus snorted.

“Thanks for helping me get on that wall.” said Shawn in a burst of emotion. “You are my best friend, Gus.”

“You know that’s right!”

“I think, we should, like, make a promise that we’ll be together for ever.”

“Like a vow or something?” asked Gus.

“Uh, yes.” Shawn agreed, not completely sure what ‘vow’ meant. “How do we do that?”

“Maybe we have to write it down, and sign it…” Gus said thoughtfully.

“Okay. And you know what would be cool? If we pricked our fingers and mixed the blood!” Shawn said excitedly.

“Blood? But...wouldn’t that be painful?”

“I saw it in a movie my mom was watching.” Shawn told him. “That’s the way to make a unbreakable promise.”

“Well, then, maybe we should kiss.” said Gus. “I saw it in a movie Joy likes. The soldier told the princess that they would be together for ever, and then they kissed.”

“Okay, we can do both.” Shawn said generously.

“I say we do the kiss thing now,” said Gus, “and keep the blood-mixing thing for later.”

“Oh alright then.” relented Shawn; he was feeling pretty charitable towards his best friend.

Gus leaned forward to place his mouth on Shawn’s, trying to copy the characters from Joy’s Disney movie. Shawn pressed back against his lips with enthusiasm. The kiss lasted for about four seconds. After they both pulled back, Gus smiled at his friend.

“Together for ever, Shawn.”

End Flashback

“Is that all?” asked Dr Moore, her lips twitching.

“Yeah, until that time Gus’ dad walked in on us and told us off...”


A/N: Is this chapter as silly as it seems to me? :o

Matt Bomer in Magic Mike

MMagic Mikeagic Mike

Gus & The Multiple Personality Disorder 6

Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder

I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.

A/N: Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from Dissociative identity disorder or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens.
A/N: I don’t really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus’ condition may not be scientific at all.
A/N: I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language.

Chapter 6

Shawn sat on a big chair, his eyes taking note of his surroundings without meaning to. The walls of the room were a light shade of green, the floor a dull white. There was a brown stain on the floor near Shawn’s chair, apparently caused by spilled coffee. A middle-aged woman sat opposite Shawn, regarding him from behind steel-rimmed glasses.

“Mr. Spencer, may I ask if you went to the police with your story?” the bespectacled psychologist asked.

Shawn looked at her with horrified eyes.

“Of course not!” he snapped. “There‘s no reason to do that, Doc.”

“I see.” said Dr. Moore, and scribbled something on her notebook. “You are consulting a psychologist, not for yourself, but to get help for your friend?”

“Yes, Gus is the one who is suffering from some… weird mentalistic disease. I need to know what’s wrong with him. Why would I need a psychologist, anyway?”

“Because of what happened last night, you do not feel the need of professional help, to deal with the incident?”

“There’s nothing to deal with.” Shawn said flatly. “I just wanna know what happened to Gus to make him think he is someone else sometimes. And I wanna know how he can be cured.”

Dr. Moore sighed and put down her notebook.

“Your friend Mr. Guster is apparently showing the symptoms of Dissociative identity disorder. A person suffering from this condition recurrently and alternately displays two or more distinct identities.”

Shawn sighed and mentally cursed Dr. Moore’s big-word-filled way of speech. It was like talking to a dictionary. He wished he could have went to Madeleine, but the story he had to tell was hardly appropriate for a mother-son conversation. It had been hard enough telling it to this break-teeth words spewing head doctor.

The psychologist in front of him continued, “So far in Mr. Guster’s case, it seems that two different personality states are taking control of him alternately. One is his usual self, the other one is someone he calls Burt, who does not know you, who does things not at all normal for him in his usual state.”

“Yes, he wears leather pants, steals my bike and…” Shawn faltered, “and does totally un-normal things!”

“We need to determine the cause of his psychosis. Did anything like this ever happen with him before, especially when he was a child?”

“Nope, it just started a few days ago, never happened before. When we were kids, Gus liked to pretend he was a superhero sometimes, but that’s hardly the same thing.”

“True, that’s just playacting.” Dr. Moore agreed. “Do you know if he was ever a victim of physical or sexual abuse as a child?”

“What? No!” Shawn exclaimed, wondering if this woman was crazy, “Gus’ family is great; he was coddled and looked after all the time. If anything like that ever happened to him, I would have known.”

“You and Burton Guster were friends since you were very young, right?”

“Yeah, since we were five; we met at school.”

“So you two spent your pre-adolescent and adolescent days together?”

Shawn did not completely understand what ‘adolescent’ meant, but getting the general idea, he nodded in affirmation.

“Did you and your friend ever have physical relations with each other before?”

“Wha…? Physical…? No, Gus and I never did anything like that, okay?” Shawn glared at the psychologist defiantly.

Dr. Moore leaned towards him, fixing Shawn with her piercing stare.

“When you were young, teenagers, did anything sexual ever happen between you? Did you maybe…experiment together?”

“I’m telling you, no!” Shawn cried desperately. “Nothing like that, we kissed a few times when we were kids, but not like that, and why would we experiment with each other? We both like girls…”

“Wait,” the psychologist interrupted Shawn’s rambling, “You said you two kissed?”

A/N: I know I have not updated in a long time, it’s just because I got a lot of alerts and favorites, but very few reviews L
Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder
By: sintah
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.

A/N: Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from Dissociative identity disorder or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens. MIND THE RATING!
A/N: I don’t really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus’ condition may not be scientific at all.
A/N: I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language.

Chapter 5

Shawn made a strangled noise as he felt his member being grabbed by Gus. No normal guy should have his lifelong best friend’s hand down his pants, Shawn thought, and be hard because of it!

Before Shawn could start protesting, Gus’ mouth descended on his collarbone and began a series of nibbling kisses, making his cock twitch in Gus’ grip. Gus gave him a firm stroke and rubbed his thumb over the leaking slit.

“Ahh…” Shawn moaned, eyes half closed, his body fighting a war against his brain. He knew he wanted to stop Gus, but Gus did not seem too keen on stopping, and Shawn’s treacherous limbs were not in any condition to fight him off.

Gus held him against the wall with a hand on his chest, and began stroking him in a steady rhythm. Shawn moaned against his will, but it was soon cut off by Gus’ mouth. Gus kissed him hard, his tongue going in to touch Shawn’s.

Soon Shawn was not conscious to anything but Gus’ tongue in his mouth, his thumb on his nipples, and his fist on his cock. He moaned into Gus’ mouth, as he felt his arousal building. As his member was given another hard stroke, he came helplessly on Gus’ hand. Shawn sagged against the wall, panting as he tried to fight the daze brought by the mind numbing pleasure he had just felt.

He opened his eyes to see Gus licking his own fingers, apparently tasting Shawn’s essence; Shawn’s body clenched at the sight. Then he felt Gus’ hands seizing his shoulders and forcing him to the ground.

“On your knees.” Gus ordered.

Shawn sank to the ground in front of him dazedly. He looked up to see Gus’ leather covered crotch right in front of his face. He watched mesmerized as Gus pulled down the zipper and his hard clock flew out. It had evidently been erect for a while and had generated a lot of moisture.

Gus grabbed Shawn’s hair with one hand and presented the leaking cock to his lips with the other. Shawn’s lips parted against the pressure and the hard member entered his mouth. He did not know what to make of the feel of the thing, it was strange (to say the least) having a cock in his mouth. His lips were stretched around it; even though only an inch or two was inside, his mouth felt quite full.

Gus seized Shawn’s hair in both hands and pushed in all the way, Shawn choked as the cock hit his throat muscles.

Holding his head in place, Gus began to move in and out of Shawn’s mouth. Shawn gagged and spluttered several times, but Gus was relentless.

After a couple of minutes, Gus stilled and his whole body tightened. Digging his hands into Shawn’s hair, he ejaculated with a shout. His hot spurts hit Shawn’s tongue one after another; Shawn swallowed some, some of it dribbled out of the corner of his mouth.

Gus pulled out and released Shawn who just sat on the floor staring at him.. Shawn watched Gus zip up his pants and straighten his clothes. He turned on his heels and walked out of the Psych office without glancing at Shawn.

Shawn stared after him, not moving from his position on the floor. For a long time after the sound of Gus’ footsteps had faded, he just sat there, his body spent and the taste of Gus’ cum in his mouth.

A/N: I have realized once again that I am terrible at writing smut :(


Fanfic: Mischief Maker for Hire Chapter 3

Mischief Maker for hire
By: sintah
Disclaimer: I do not own Archie. I make no profits from this story.

Chapter 3

Reggie smirked and leaned towards Betty, his eyes alight with laughter.

“Now, how can I pay you back, beautiful?” he asked, brushing her cheek lightly with the back of his knuckles. “How about by…. giving you the chance of going on a date with the sexiest man in the world?”

“Oh yes!” Betty cried, her hands clasped in mock rapture, “Have you seen him around?”

“Of course, I see him everyday.” Reggie answered without missing a beat. “In the mirror.”

Betty and Ethel laughed at this; there was no winning one over the Great Mantle. Betty stood up and smoothed her skirt.

“Alright, stud, why don’t you and I take a nice walk down Maple Street and discuss how you can pay your debt?” she said batting her lashes at him.

“That would be my pleasure, beautiful.” Reggie offered her his arm with a flourish, which she took laughingly. They both said goodbye to Big Ethel and walked out in the rosy October afternoon.

They walked along Maple Street, where the trees at both sides of the road had the color of autumn. A cool gust of wind swept over them, making Betty pull her denim jacket tighter around herself.

“It’s a bit chilly, huh?” Reggie put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

“You’re just wearing that sweatshirt!” said Betty, looking at his jacketless figure. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah, I am just too hot.” Reggie smirked. “Hot as hell!”

“Ha ha, that’s appropriate, as you are quite the devil.” Betty teased, snuggling against his side for warmth.

“What can I say, chicks dig it!” he said with a graceful shrug.

“Well, you use your evil powers for other uses too.” said Betty slowly. “Like tricking people, making trouble. I was wondering…”

“Wondering what, Betty?” They had stopped walking, and were now facing each other.

“Would it be possible for you to use your super power for my benefit?” Betty asked in a rush.

Reggie stared at her

“I am not sure I follow you, Bets.”

“Let’s say that, I want some mischief done to somebody who deserves it, and want to hire your services.”

“You want me to help you tricking someone?” Reggie asked incredulously. “Who? Veronica? What did she do now?”

“The usual,” Betty said angrily. “Deliberately stole a date with Archie from me. She thinks she is so clever! I would just love to take her down a peg or two.”

“Wow.” said Reggie, blinking rapidly. “Sooo, you want to outwit Ronnie? I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“That’s where you come in.” Betty said with a evil smile, “You are going to help me.”

“What?” he exclaimed, “Why would I do that?”

“You owe me, remember? This is how you pay me back. And anyway, this should be right up your alley.”

“I don’t want Ronnie out for my blood!” Reggie argued. “And she would never date me again if I did anything like that.”

“But that’s just it!” cried Betty, “She won’t know you have anything to do with it! My plan is, she won’t have a clue what’s happening, and why it’s happening.”

“Hmm,” said Reggie speculatively, “that would be pretty clever if we could pull it off…You! If you could pull it off!”

“Ha!” Betty threw up her arms in a victorious gesture, “you said WE! You are so busted, Mantle. You actually want to do this, don’t you? You want to outwit Veronica Lodge!”

“Okay, it’s true that it would be… an exciting challenge,” Reggie said sheepishly, “But it would mean catastrophe for me if I get caught. I would never be able to take Ronnie out again and the coast would be clear for Carrot-top!”

“Don’t worry, we won’t get caught.” Betty soothed. “We will keep the whole thing quiet. We’ll do the planning discretely, and set the schemes in motion when nobody’s looking.”

“It would take a lot of planning,” Reggie scratched his head, “What if people get suspicious when we are going over stuff and ask what we are doing together?”

“Oh no, they won’t! We will tell them we are on a date.” Betty said quickly, seizing his hand. “Come on, let’s go to my house and start making plans right now!”

She turned and began to walk, pulling a half reluctant, half excited Reggie behind her. What I am getting myself into? he wondered as he was dragged away by the determined blonde.



Fanfic: Mischief Maker for Hire Chapter 2

Mischief Maker for hire
By: sintah
Disclaimer: I do not own Archie. I make no profits from this story.

Chapter 2

“Hi ladies!” said Reggie Mantle; he presented them with his patented playboy smile, the one that he had perfected over the years to charm females.

“Hi Reggie.” the girls chorused. Reggie wore a collared red shirt, the top two buttons open, and black slacks; as always he looked as though he had just stepped out from a magazine cover. No wonder he was so popular with women, Betty mused as he looked at him, not as popular as he thought he was, though!

“Uh, Ethel, you look just as bonny and delightful as ever!” Reggie said gallantly.

Ethel giggled; she knew perfectly well that Reggie did not find her at all attractive, but he was so practiced at giving compliments that it came easy to him. Even though the compliment was not honest, she thought it was nice just to hear the words.

“Thanks, Reg.” said Ethel.

“And you, Bets, are always as pretty as a picture; quite the princess actually.”

“Very kind of you to say so.” Betty said, rolling her eyes and chuckling.

Thus having done his duty by them, Reggie now transferred his attention to Midge.

“Midge, my beautiful temptress, you just take my breath away!” cried he.

“Right, that’s why you talk to me last of all.” Midge said, pretending to pout.

“It’s because you are my number one girl, and I want all the time in the world to express my fascination for you.” Reggie returned immediately, kissing her hand with a flourish.

The others laughed at Midge and Reggie’s antics which none of the kids took seriously, except Moose of course.

“I thought Veronica was your number one girl?” Midge teased.

“What? How can you doubt me so?” Reggie exclaimed theatrically, putting a hand on his chest,

“Ronnie is a friend, we have a fun time together. You are the one who has my fancy!”

“A likely story!” Midge said in mock anger.

“Think how I brave the danger of being pounded into earth by that big ape to see your gorgeous face everyday,” Reggie told her, “That gorilla doesn’t keep me…” he stopped, eyes widening comically.

The girls turned to see ‘the gorilla’ in question coming in through the door of the Chocklit Shoppe.

“Hey Moose, sweetie!” chirped Midge. Betty and Ethel snickered; only Midge could flirt outrageously with somebody one moment, and be all lovey dovey with her boyfriend the next.

“D-uh, hi Midge.” said Moose. His eyes fell on Reggie. “What are you doing here? Making time with muh girl?” he growled, reaching to seize the other boy’s collar. Reggie quickly moved to evade the hand.

“Of course not Moosie, I wouldn’t do that!” he said with fake earnestness.

“I know you, Mantle! You…”

“I wasn’t even talking to Midge!” declared Reggie, his devious brain working overtime, trying to get him out of being thrashed. “Actually I am here on a date.”

“D-uh! Date with muh girl? I am gonna kill…”

“No!” Reggie interrupted desperately, “With… Betty! I am on a date with Betty!” He mentally patted himself on the back for being able to come up with a good explanation. “Isn’t that true, Bets?” he looked at her with pleading eyes.

Moose glanced at Betty; the kind-hearted blonde immediately put her arms around Reggie’s neck.

“Yes, Moose, Reg and I are on a date.” she kissed Reggie’s cheek for good measure. “Midge was just waiting for you.”

“D-uh.” muttered Moose, apparently accepting this story. “Well, we should get going. Come on, Midge.”

Midge said goodbye and the couple left. As soon as they were gone, Betty and Ethel burst into laughter; Reggie joined in too. Run-ins with Moose was a daily occurrence for him, he was not afraid of beatings really.

“Dodged the bullet again,” he smirked.

“You sure are good at making up excuses, Reg.” said Ethel, slapping him on the arm.

“Just using my god-given super wits.” Reggie answered modestly. He put an arm around Betty’s shoulders. “Thanks for playing along, Betty! I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do!” Betty told him.