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wook77Title: Of Quidditch, Trains and Footie Matches
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wook77
Rating: Hard R
Pairing(s): Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan
Summary: What's the best way to cope with turning thirty and realising that your life isn't what you'd planned? Go on a road trip with your best mate. It's just too bad for Dean and Seamus when even that doesn't go according to plan.
Warnings: none
Word Count: ~11,800
Author's Notes: Originally written forgoneoffthelump at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_springsmut. She was very patient in waiting for the story as I worked through block after block after... ♥. For my betas (nefernat, best_of_five, maple_mahogany, miz_thang88, kaalee), so much love and thanks. The remaining mistakes are, obviously, my own. Finally – many thanks to midnitemaraud_r for her patience and handholding as I ironed this story out. Also - I think this one is a story that I've a bit of meta on because of the research and such. We'll see.
PART I
~~Kenmare, Ireland~~
"Looks like Neary's got his eye on the Snitch, he's diving through the action and watch out for that Bludger, Neary! Pershing's hot on his tail as she goes in to a dive, as well. It's going to be a close one, ladies and gentlemen, a very close one indeed as Neary pulls up but Pershing's still going and would you look at that! That's some fantastic broom handling we've just seen!" The announcer's voice echoed throughout the stadium as the crowd cheered and jeered in turn depending on whether they were cheering for the Harpies or the Kestrels.
Seamus doesn't relax as he keeps his eye on Neary. He leans over and says, "Watch Neary, mate. He knows exactly where the Snitch is at. He's just making Pershing look an arse and leading her about. Ever since Ginny left, the Harpies have been for shite, mate. Total shite."
"You're just saying that because you have money on the game." Dean sneers in response. "Harpies are good enough to have beat the Kestrels how many times?"
"Fuck off," Seamus spits back before smacking the back of Dean's head with an open palm. "Ginny was a brilliant Seeker, that's why the Kestrels lost. Now that they're stuck with Pershing, Kestrels'll start winning again. You'll see."
"Only team in the league with a worse record's the Cannons and well you know it."
"I still owe you one from the train to Cologne, don't think I won't make it two," Seamus says with an evil glint to his eye. Then he looks away, staring out over the crowd and the pitch. He shouldn't have brought up Cologne. They'd agreed nothing had happened, but every time Seamus thinks about Cologne, he remembers the way that Dean had pushed him against the brick and snogged him senseless. He remembers the way that he'd felt alive and young. He remembers how it was Dean that made him feel that way.
No matter what they'd agreed to, Seamus knows that things have changed and that what happened was and is important. Damned if the kiss -and touching, a small voice adds – didn't change things so that Seamus is always hyper-aware of where Dean's hands are at. Even now with not even looking at Dean, Seamus can tell that Dean's hands are tapping the centres of his upper thighs and that he's fidgeting because Seamus hasn't said anything further. He knows, and Dean knows that Seamus knows, that they're both thinking about what happened back in Cologne.
"Neary's got the Snitch! The Kestrels win the match! Too bad, Harpies, maybe next time!" The announcer's voice intrudes on their conversation. They watch as the Kestrels fly into formation and then do a victory lap. Seamus, along with the rest of the Kestrel fans, points his wand into the air and shoot off sparks of a myriad array of colours.
"Come on, let's get a drink to celebrate. My treat, what with me winning all those galleons off of ye," Seamus taunts and then slaps Dean's shoulder. "So guess you could say drinks are on you in the end, regardless!"
"Fuck off," Dean says while tossing a rude gesture towards Seamus. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of coins. "Here, buy me a drink as you've taken the last of my money."
~~County Meath, Ireland~~
"We're so glad to have you, Dean," Seamus's mam says before embracing them both. "It's been awhile since I've had either of you boys here. Working too much."
"Good to see you again, as well," Dean says and it's muffled against her shoulder.
Seamus puts his arms around his mam, touching Dean on the waist, as well. He breathes in her scent and he feels at home immediately. He's missed his mam; they haven't always gotten on together but that's always been their way. They fight and make up, two strong personalities that bump heads and forgive just as easily. Seamus figures it probably has something to do with being an only child, considering that he's seen the way that Dean treats his own mam with barely any fighting. Instead, Dean reserves his sniping and bickering for his siblings. Seamus has never really had that; it's just been his mam and him since before he can really remember.
"Missed you, mam," Seamus says and breathes her in one more time. When he pulls back, he sees how much older she looks in the six months since the last time he'd been able to make it home. He feels old, too, as he looks at the passage of time on her face. There're wrinkles that hadn't been there before.
"Oh now, come on, not the time to be getting maudlin. Into the house with ye, I've got your room ready, lads." She turns and heads in to the house.
"Room?" Seamus asks dumbly.
"Aye, thought it'd be nice for you two to share a room just like you did before. Especially what with the way you're both out there reliving your youth."
"Tell me there's two beds, mam," Seamus pleads.
"Same as always, lad." She turns and winks.
Seamus looks to Dean with a bit of panic. 'Same as always' meant one small bed for them to cram themselves in to. When they'd been twelve or thirteen or even seventeen or eighteen, it hadn't mattered. But now, after the trip and the kiss and the touching and the wanking, Seamus can feel the doom sweeping towards him and he doesn't feel melodramatic in the least. There's no way he'll be able to sleep with Dean and not get hard, not touch and want to kiss and fuck.
"It'll be fine, thanks," Dean says with a look towards Seamus. "Right?"
"Aye, sure, right. Not a problem at all," Seamus agrees quickly.
Throughout dinner and a card game afterwards, dread of the night keeps building and building. This isn't going to be pleasant, no way it can be considering how his cock throbs every fucking time Dean touches him and the way that he can swear he tastes Dean on his tongue whenever Dean looks at him.
His fears are only proven correct when they make their way up in to the room. There's no way that they can even transfigure the bed to make it bigger with how much furniture's in the room. He looks everywhere at Dean before asking, "Wall or room side?"
"I'll be against the wall. If that's all right?" Dean asks and then unshrinks his belongings, laying them on top of the sewing machine.
"Room side is fine with me," Seamus agrees to the arrangements and stuffs his belongings across the bookshelves and boxes. He mutters to himself, "Christ, mam, got enough shite in here?"
"Seems like there's quite a bit more stuff than the last time we were here."
"Yeah, guess mam's happy I'm not here and turned my room into a storage closet." Seamus arches his back and scratches his chest. He catches himself when he sees Dean watching his hands. Quickly tugging down his shirt from where it had drifted up to expose his stomach, he turns and fumbles through his belongings.
When he turns back around, he stops completely short. Dean's pulling his shirt off, arching his own spine and exposing all that flesh to Seamus's eyes. Seamus's cock leaps to attention. They're close enough together that Seamus can see the smattering of hair on Dean's chest and his eyes track the hair from chest down along Dean's stomach until the hair disappears into the waistband of Dean's denims.
He must've made a noise because Dean asks, "What was that, mate?"
"Err, have to piss," Seamus says as he panics, grabbing for a t-shirt and running out of the room. He's barely inside the bathroom before his hand's in his pants to grasp his cock. He pulls and curses in time, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."
His free hand comes up so that he can bite the knuckle of his thumb and keep as quiet as he can but he keeps cursing around it. When he comes, he bites down hard enough to break skin. Dean's name's on his lips and he bangs his head against the wall. How the fuck have things come to this? It's a question he doesn't think he'll ever answer.
Instead, he ignores everything as he washes himself clean and then heads back to his room. He was gone long enough that Dean had crawled in to bed and looked to be sound asleep. Carefully, he pulls his shirt off and then his denims. He's forgotten about the shirt he left in the loo.
Gingerly, he crawls in to bed and flips on his side, giving Dean his back as he slips in between the sheets. He bumps Dean's knees and moves around until their bodies are aligned. The bed's smaller than he remembers. Just as he closes his eyes, he feels Dean's arm come around him.
"Mate?" He asks quietly. No answer came except for Dean's arm tightening. "You asleep?"
Seamus doesn't see that Dean's eyes are open and, instead, assumes that the lack of answer is proof enough that Dean's asleep. He reaches up and entwines their fingers, pressing their hands close to his heart.
In the morning, Seamus freezes in place when he feels Dean's hand drifting from his hip to his cock. His hard cock. Seamus is only in his pants so it's not like there's much fabric between that questing kneading hand and his overly sensitive flesh. He can't resist the way that Dean's touching him, he moans and thrusts against that hand. His neck arches and it's then that he realises that Dean's mouth is open and sucking on his neck.
"Fuck," Seamus mutters as he bucks back from the hand only to feel how hard Dean is right behind his arse. He panics, yet again, and leaps out of bed. "What the fuck you think you're doing?"
"Don't say you didn't want me to touch you," Dean says as he pushes up from the bed. "Don't fucking say it because you'll be lying."
"Fuck off, I was sleeping!"
"You were moaning my name all night, Seamus." It's stated plainly, so matter-of-factly that Seamus knows that Dean's telling the truth.
"Wasn't," he still protests.
"Was. I can't take this much more, I really can't."
"Then stop wanting it," Seamus answers while Dean gets out of the bed and stands in front of him.
"You think I can help this?" Dean stares at him and Seamus can feel the hurt and the pain building. "You think I chose this?"
"You saying I made you?" Seamus tries to be deliberately obtuse. If he can piss Dean off, that hurt and pain will disappear and they won't have to talk about this. They can go back to the way they were instead of all these fucking feelings swirling around everywhere. He's a fucking bloke, isn't he? He's a fucking bloke and blokes aren't supposed to feel all this bullshit.
"I'm saying that neither of us chose it but at least I'm willing to do something about it. I'm just asking you to take the chance and try to do something, too." Dean reaches out a hand and grabs Seamus's wrist.
"I…" Seamus doesn't know what to say. Hell, he hasn't known what to say, not since the train and definitely not since Cologne. This is entirely too fucking much. Who goes on a trip with their best mate and falls in love with them? It's straight out of one of the girl books his mam reads. It's a fucking joke is what it is. He starts to turn away but then he catches Dean's expression and sees the pleading there. He can feel it straight down to his gut and it adds to the swirling morass of feeling. It's that, the way that love and guilt and need combine that makes him shift his wrist until he's chastely holding on to Dean's hand. "We're a couple of girls."
"Fuck off," Dean says with a forced laugh. Seamus leaps forward so he can't see the way Dean's face is twisting into something else completely. Instead, he hugs Dean, holds him tight and buries his face against Dean's bare chest. The heartbeat under his cheek is reassuring and anchors him where he is. Dean's hand comes up to hold on to the back of Seamus's head. "'M scared too, you know."
"Not scared, ain't no bloody coward," Seamus says and squeezes tighter.
"Course you're not. I can't quite help remembering the way you shrieked like a little girl when the squid splashed on our way across the lake back in first year."
"That was Neville." Seamus pulls back and looks up at Dean. Their faces are so bloody close that it's tempting to just ignore the talking and the feeling, to act like mindless idiots and just go with the flow but Seamus has always been a talker, will always be a talker. If they don't get this talked out now, Seamus will let it fester until he explodes. Still, there's that little voice urging him - run fast, run far, run now.
"Course it was," Dean agrees and there's that look on his face, the one from his mam's house and the one from Cologne and the one from the train. It's the look on his face that's there when Seamus looks out the corner of his eye and catches Dean staring. It makes Seamus uncomfortable at the same time that it has heat pulling in his gut. It confuses him and he closes his eyes against it. Dean's hand on his cheek has his eyes flying open quickly. "We can make this work. Been friends for nineteen years, not like we haven't fought before or something."
Seamus still doesn't answer and Dean fills the tense silence, "I'm not asking for happy ever after, all I'm asking is for you to give me a chance, take a risk." Dean sounds pissed but he's pleading, too. The sound of them combined together twists Seamus up more than one or the other. Together they tell Seamus just how much this means, he means, to Dean. There's so much pride behind the anger and so much desire behind the pleading. Seamus wants to say 'yes' to the pleading. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out.
"I love you, do you get that? I fucking well love you and I'm standing here asking you for a chance." There's the anger again but it's the declaration of love that has him even more gobsmacked. Dean's staring and Christ but Seamus can't meet that gaze. He can't because there's too much emotion in it and Dean's the placid one. Seamus is the one that wears his heart on his sleeve and he just can't deal with this role reversal. It's unnatural and wrong.
"Fine then, forget I said anything," Dean whispers and this time, there's only the pleading.
His hands are shaking. He's fucking all of this up and this muck isn't at all what he wants.
Seamus finally gathers himself together enough to respond and reaches one of those shaking hands up, cupping Dean's cheek and whispers, "No."
"No what?" Seamus looks at Dean, finally meets that gaze and tries for a grin.
"No," he repeats. "Won't forget you said anything. Bit new for me, yeah? Bit weird, been mates and now there's all this… this… stuff."
"Yeah, there is," Dean murmurs.
"It'd be easier if you were a bird."
"Don't think that'll happen any time soon, mate," Dean says dryly but his hand comes up to rest against Seamus's, pressing it in closer.
"Aye, well, I'm sort of glad for it."
The moment slides in to silence as neither seem to know what to say or do. If Dean were a girl, Seamus would lean in and kiss him but Dean's a bloke, his best mate at that, and that means that snogging at this moment might not be appropriate. Seamus could touch his hip with his free hand or entwine it in the back of Dean's hair or maybe he could step closer and slip his arm around the back or…
Or maybe he could just kiss Dean. After all, Dean's lips are right there and he'd tasted brilliant back in Cologne. Seamus leans in, lifts his face and reaches a hand up to pull Dean's face down. Just before they touch, Dean resists.
"You sure?" Dean rests his forehead against Seamus's. "Everything changes after this."
"Aye, that it will." Seamus tilts his face just a bit more and presses his lips against Dean's. "I'm sure."
Dean's mouth is voracious as he kisses Seamus. Seamus succumbs to the onslaught, lets Dean nip his lips or force his mouth open. It's absolutely bloody wonderful, truth be told, with the way that Dean's kissing him and he's kissing Dean. Dean's hungry and needy but Seamus wants, too, wants more than he'd been willing to admit to himself until they'd been away from anyone and everyone they'd ever known. Dean's hands come around so that Seamus's head is anchored into place as he ravages Seamus's mouth. Christ but if this doesn't feel better than ever before, if he isn't hard and rubbing himself against Dean's leg.
Dean's rubbing his leg, as well. He can feel how hard Dean is through his pants. Letting go of Dean's face and neck, Seamus snakes his hands between their bodies to pull Dean's t-shirt up, tugging until it comes off. There's so much smooth skin to explore that his hands roam at will, touching everything he can, pressing in against his collarbone and then along his ribs. Dean pulls back, gasping for air, but Seamus doesn't stop. Instead, he rakes his blunt nails down Dean's chest and then around to his back. He repeats the gesture, raking his nails down Dean's back and then thrusts his hands between pants and skin to touch the top of that tight arse.
"Seamus," Dean breathes out as Seamus presses a finger against the start of his arse crack.
"If you can remember me name, I'm obviously doing something wrong," Seamus says with a cheeky grin and pulls his hands free, playing with Dean's stomach and the waist of his pants.
"You're an arse, an absolute arse."
"Yeah but you love it," Seamus shoots back before realising just what he'd said. The moment turns serious once more. Dean's probably waiting for Seamus to say those three words back to him but Seamus can't do it. He doesn't love Dean, not right now. Hell, it's hard enough to accept that he has any sorts of feelings for Dean let alone all of the stuff that goes along with it. There's no room for love right not, not with all this confusion.
"It's all right, I'm not asking you to say it back," Dean finally says after the uncomfortable silence stretches too far. Dean's hands drift down Seamus's body, lightly skimming and toying with the flesh. Fingertips tickle against Seamus's belly, causing his cock to harden further. Seamus arches his neck backwards, pushing his stomach against those teasing fingers. The fingers change directions, fumbling with Seamus's pants and then sliding them down his hips. Seamus barely feels the cool air of the room brush against his cock before it's engulfed in Dean's grip. His hand drifts up and twists, pulling the foreskin back and then rubbing the slit. Seamus's head falls back the rest of the way as he moans.
"Be quiet or your mam'll hear," Dean whispers and then licks Seamus's exposed neck. Seamus moans again and finds Dean's hand pushed against his mouth. In retaliation for the forced silence, Seamus licks the palm before biting the heel of the palm. Dean gasps and pulls back, letting Seamus take shameless advantage by following his nipping with another bite to Dean's collarbone, his neck, his chest, his nipple.
Dean's grip on his cock tightens further, reminding Seamus that he's been ignoring Dean's. His hands shake a bit – Dean's cock is the first other than his own that he's ever touched – and then he drags the very tips of his fingers up Dean's cock from base to tip. It's Dean's turn to moan and Seamus's turn to put his palm over Dean's mouth. "No biting," he whispers.
Dean says something but Seamus can't make it out so he pulls his hand back, "What'd you say?"
"I said then move your hand," Dean says before leaning down and kissing Seamus one more time.
Seamus's knees go weak from being trapped between Dean's hand and mouth and the way that Dean's snogging the life out of him. "Bed, can we go to the bed? Going to fall in a minute."
"Yeah," Dean mutters. Then they walk together to the bed and, when they land, Seamus is on top of Dean.
Now that he doesn't have to worry about his balance and his knees giving out, Seamus's hands and mouth are everywhere. He grips Dean's cock and tries the same manoeuvre that Dean used with the twist of the grip at the top while his mouth licks and sucks across Dean's chest. The entire time, his senses go into overload from the way that Dean's still tugging on his cock though it's trapped between them. Their knuckles brush and knock into one another.
There's too much touching and sucking and Seamus can't quite catch his breath or his thoughts. Instead, he's stuck on I'm touching Dean, I'm touching Dean, Dean's touching me as it traipses through his head. Seamus rears back and Dean follows, mouthing along Seamus's neck and chest. He grabs Seamus's nipple between his teeth and bites down lightly. When Seamus looks down, he tugs a hair from Seamus's chest.
"Fucker," Seamus curses and then puts his hand over Dean's mouth. Their hands are still moving and Seamus knows that if Dean does one more thing, Seamus is going to come. When Dean bites the tip of Seamus's thumb, Seamus cries out and spills over their hands. Dean follows, bucking up into Seamus's hips.
Seamus collapses against Dean's chest. He's utterly spent and doesn't much care about what they're going to talk about in a few minutes. They have plenty of train rides, Quidditch matches and football matches to get all of this shite figured out during. For now, Seamus just wants to be here, sticky and spent, with Dean.
~~Liverpool~~
"Look at him go!" Seamus points towards Xabi Alonso as he runs down the field, kicking the ball between legs and around other players as he moved like he'd obviously been born to move.
"Make a footie fan of you yet," Dean says before slinging an arm around Seamus's shoulder.
"Seen enough games on this trip let alone in all our years to know what's what already," Seamus responds and throws his arm around Dean's waist. As Xabi eludes the goalie – who, in Seamus's opinion is much too far into the field – the ball sails in to the net. Xabi runs towards the captain of his team and leaps in to his arms. A quick kiss to the lips in celebration and then they both run about the field. Seamus turns to Dean and presses his own lips to Dean's. "See? Friends can kiss."
"That they can," Dean says back.
Seamus grins and kisses Dean once more, this time on the cheek next to the curl of his ear. "Fucking love you, I do."
Dean looks startled and Seamus winks. "Best trip ever."
As always, I'd love to hear what you thought.
Author:
wook77Rating: Hard R
Pairing(s): Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnigan
Summary: What's the best way to cope with turning thirty and realising that your life isn't what you'd planned? Go on a road trip with your best mate. It's just too bad for Dean and Seamus when even that doesn't go according to plan.
Warnings: none
Word Count: ~11,800
Author's Notes: Originally written for
goneoffthelump at hp_springsmut. She was very patient in waiting for the story as I worked through block after block after... ♥. For my betas (nefernat, best_of_five, maple_mahogany, miz_thang88, kaalee), so much love and thanks. The remaining mistakes are, obviously, my own. Finally – many thanks to midnitemaraud_r for her patience and handholding as I ironed this story out. Also - I think this one is a story that I've a bit of meta on because of the research and such. We'll see. PART I
"Looks like Neary's got his eye on the Snitch, he's diving through the action and watch out for that Bludger, Neary! Pershing's hot on his tail as she goes in to a dive, as well. It's going to be a close one, ladies and gentlemen, a very close one indeed as Neary pulls up but Pershing's still going and would you look at that! That's some fantastic broom handling we've just seen!" The announcer's voice echoed throughout the stadium as the crowd cheered and jeered in turn depending on whether they were cheering for the Harpies or the Kestrels.
Seamus doesn't relax as he keeps his eye on Neary. He leans over and says, "Watch Neary, mate. He knows exactly where the Snitch is at. He's just making Pershing look an arse and leading her about. Ever since Ginny left, the Harpies have been for shite, mate. Total shite."
"You're just saying that because you have money on the game." Dean sneers in response. "Harpies are good enough to have beat the Kestrels how many times?"
"Fuck off," Seamus spits back before smacking the back of Dean's head with an open palm. "Ginny was a brilliant Seeker, that's why the Kestrels lost. Now that they're stuck with Pershing, Kestrels'll start winning again. You'll see."
"Only team in the league with a worse record's the Cannons and well you know it."
"I still owe you one from the train to Cologne, don't think I won't make it two," Seamus says with an evil glint to his eye. Then he looks away, staring out over the crowd and the pitch. He shouldn't have brought up Cologne. They'd agreed nothing had happened, but every time Seamus thinks about Cologne, he remembers the way that Dean had pushed him against the brick and snogged him senseless. He remembers the way that he'd felt alive and young. He remembers how it was Dean that made him feel that way.
No matter what they'd agreed to, Seamus knows that things have changed and that what happened was and is important. Damned if the kiss -and touching, a small voice adds – didn't change things so that Seamus is always hyper-aware of where Dean's hands are at. Even now with not even looking at Dean, Seamus can tell that Dean's hands are tapping the centres of his upper thighs and that he's fidgeting because Seamus hasn't said anything further. He knows, and Dean knows that Seamus knows, that they're both thinking about what happened back in Cologne.
"Neary's got the Snitch! The Kestrels win the match! Too bad, Harpies, maybe next time!" The announcer's voice intrudes on their conversation. They watch as the Kestrels fly into formation and then do a victory lap. Seamus, along with the rest of the Kestrel fans, points his wand into the air and shoot off sparks of a myriad array of colours.
"Come on, let's get a drink to celebrate. My treat, what with me winning all those galleons off of ye," Seamus taunts and then slaps Dean's shoulder. "So guess you could say drinks are on you in the end, regardless!"
"Fuck off," Dean says while tossing a rude gesture towards Seamus. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of coins. "Here, buy me a drink as you've taken the last of my money."
"We're so glad to have you, Dean," Seamus's mam says before embracing them both. "It's been awhile since I've had either of you boys here. Working too much."
"Good to see you again, as well," Dean says and it's muffled against her shoulder.
Seamus puts his arms around his mam, touching Dean on the waist, as well. He breathes in her scent and he feels at home immediately. He's missed his mam; they haven't always gotten on together but that's always been their way. They fight and make up, two strong personalities that bump heads and forgive just as easily. Seamus figures it probably has something to do with being an only child, considering that he's seen the way that Dean treats his own mam with barely any fighting. Instead, Dean reserves his sniping and bickering for his siblings. Seamus has never really had that; it's just been his mam and him since before he can really remember.
"Missed you, mam," Seamus says and breathes her in one more time. When he pulls back, he sees how much older she looks in the six months since the last time he'd been able to make it home. He feels old, too, as he looks at the passage of time on her face. There're wrinkles that hadn't been there before.
"Oh now, come on, not the time to be getting maudlin. Into the house with ye, I've got your room ready, lads." She turns and heads in to the house.
"Room?" Seamus asks dumbly.
"Aye, thought it'd be nice for you two to share a room just like you did before. Especially what with the way you're both out there reliving your youth."
"Tell me there's two beds, mam," Seamus pleads.
"Same as always, lad." She turns and winks.
Seamus looks to Dean with a bit of panic. 'Same as always' meant one small bed for them to cram themselves in to. When they'd been twelve or thirteen or even seventeen or eighteen, it hadn't mattered. But now, after the trip and the kiss and the touching and the wanking, Seamus can feel the doom sweeping towards him and he doesn't feel melodramatic in the least. There's no way he'll be able to sleep with Dean and not get hard, not touch and want to kiss and fuck.
"It'll be fine, thanks," Dean says with a look towards Seamus. "Right?"
"Aye, sure, right. Not a problem at all," Seamus agrees quickly.
Throughout dinner and a card game afterwards, dread of the night keeps building and building. This isn't going to be pleasant, no way it can be considering how his cock throbs every fucking time Dean touches him and the way that he can swear he tastes Dean on his tongue whenever Dean looks at him.
His fears are only proven correct when they make their way up in to the room. There's no way that they can even transfigure the bed to make it bigger with how much furniture's in the room. He looks everywhere at Dean before asking, "Wall or room side?"
"I'll be against the wall. If that's all right?" Dean asks and then unshrinks his belongings, laying them on top of the sewing machine.
"Room side is fine with me," Seamus agrees to the arrangements and stuffs his belongings across the bookshelves and boxes. He mutters to himself, "Christ, mam, got enough shite in here?"
"Seems like there's quite a bit more stuff than the last time we were here."
"Yeah, guess mam's happy I'm not here and turned my room into a storage closet." Seamus arches his back and scratches his chest. He catches himself when he sees Dean watching his hands. Quickly tugging down his shirt from where it had drifted up to expose his stomach, he turns and fumbles through his belongings.
When he turns back around, he stops completely short. Dean's pulling his shirt off, arching his own spine and exposing all that flesh to Seamus's eyes. Seamus's cock leaps to attention. They're close enough together that Seamus can see the smattering of hair on Dean's chest and his eyes track the hair from chest down along Dean's stomach until the hair disappears into the waistband of Dean's denims.
He must've made a noise because Dean asks, "What was that, mate?"
"Err, have to piss," Seamus says as he panics, grabbing for a t-shirt and running out of the room. He's barely inside the bathroom before his hand's in his pants to grasp his cock. He pulls and curses in time, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."
His free hand comes up so that he can bite the knuckle of his thumb and keep as quiet as he can but he keeps cursing around it. When he comes, he bites down hard enough to break skin. Dean's name's on his lips and he bangs his head against the wall. How the fuck have things come to this? It's a question he doesn't think he'll ever answer.
Instead, he ignores everything as he washes himself clean and then heads back to his room. He was gone long enough that Dean had crawled in to bed and looked to be sound asleep. Carefully, he pulls his shirt off and then his denims. He's forgotten about the shirt he left in the loo.
Gingerly, he crawls in to bed and flips on his side, giving Dean his back as he slips in between the sheets. He bumps Dean's knees and moves around until their bodies are aligned. The bed's smaller than he remembers. Just as he closes his eyes, he feels Dean's arm come around him.
"Mate?" He asks quietly. No answer came except for Dean's arm tightening. "You asleep?"
Seamus doesn't see that Dean's eyes are open and, instead, assumes that the lack of answer is proof enough that Dean's asleep. He reaches up and entwines their fingers, pressing their hands close to his heart.
In the morning, Seamus freezes in place when he feels Dean's hand drifting from his hip to his cock. His hard cock. Seamus is only in his pants so it's not like there's much fabric between that questing kneading hand and his overly sensitive flesh. He can't resist the way that Dean's touching him, he moans and thrusts against that hand. His neck arches and it's then that he realises that Dean's mouth is open and sucking on his neck.
"Fuck," Seamus mutters as he bucks back from the hand only to feel how hard Dean is right behind his arse. He panics, yet again, and leaps out of bed. "What the fuck you think you're doing?"
"Don't say you didn't want me to touch you," Dean says as he pushes up from the bed. "Don't fucking say it because you'll be lying."
"Fuck off, I was sleeping!"
"You were moaning my name all night, Seamus." It's stated plainly, so matter-of-factly that Seamus knows that Dean's telling the truth.
"Wasn't," he still protests.
"Was. I can't take this much more, I really can't."
"Then stop wanting it," Seamus answers while Dean gets out of the bed and stands in front of him.
"You think I can help this?" Dean stares at him and Seamus can feel the hurt and the pain building. "You think I chose this?"
"You saying I made you?" Seamus tries to be deliberately obtuse. If he can piss Dean off, that hurt and pain will disappear and they won't have to talk about this. They can go back to the way they were instead of all these fucking feelings swirling around everywhere. He's a fucking bloke, isn't he? He's a fucking bloke and blokes aren't supposed to feel all this bullshit.
"I'm saying that neither of us chose it but at least I'm willing to do something about it. I'm just asking you to take the chance and try to do something, too." Dean reaches out a hand and grabs Seamus's wrist.
"I…" Seamus doesn't know what to say. Hell, he hasn't known what to say, not since the train and definitely not since Cologne. This is entirely too fucking much. Who goes on a trip with their best mate and falls in love with them? It's straight out of one of the girl books his mam reads. It's a fucking joke is what it is. He starts to turn away but then he catches Dean's expression and sees the pleading there. He can feel it straight down to his gut and it adds to the swirling morass of feeling. It's that, the way that love and guilt and need combine that makes him shift his wrist until he's chastely holding on to Dean's hand. "We're a couple of girls."
"Fuck off," Dean says with a forced laugh. Seamus leaps forward so he can't see the way Dean's face is twisting into something else completely. Instead, he hugs Dean, holds him tight and buries his face against Dean's bare chest. The heartbeat under his cheek is reassuring and anchors him where he is. Dean's hand comes up to hold on to the back of Seamus's head. "'M scared too, you know."
"Not scared, ain't no bloody coward," Seamus says and squeezes tighter.
"Course you're not. I can't quite help remembering the way you shrieked like a little girl when the squid splashed on our way across the lake back in first year."
"That was Neville." Seamus pulls back and looks up at Dean. Their faces are so bloody close that it's tempting to just ignore the talking and the feeling, to act like mindless idiots and just go with the flow but Seamus has always been a talker, will always be a talker. If they don't get this talked out now, Seamus will let it fester until he explodes. Still, there's that little voice urging him - run fast, run far, run now.
"Course it was," Dean agrees and there's that look on his face, the one from his mam's house and the one from Cologne and the one from the train. It's the look on his face that's there when Seamus looks out the corner of his eye and catches Dean staring. It makes Seamus uncomfortable at the same time that it has heat pulling in his gut. It confuses him and he closes his eyes against it. Dean's hand on his cheek has his eyes flying open quickly. "We can make this work. Been friends for nineteen years, not like we haven't fought before or something."
Seamus still doesn't answer and Dean fills the tense silence, "I'm not asking for happy ever after, all I'm asking is for you to give me a chance, take a risk." Dean sounds pissed but he's pleading, too. The sound of them combined together twists Seamus up more than one or the other. Together they tell Seamus just how much this means, he means, to Dean. There's so much pride behind the anger and so much desire behind the pleading. Seamus wants to say 'yes' to the pleading. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out.
"I love you, do you get that? I fucking well love you and I'm standing here asking you for a chance." There's the anger again but it's the declaration of love that has him even more gobsmacked. Dean's staring and Christ but Seamus can't meet that gaze. He can't because there's too much emotion in it and Dean's the placid one. Seamus is the one that wears his heart on his sleeve and he just can't deal with this role reversal. It's unnatural and wrong.
"Fine then, forget I said anything," Dean whispers and this time, there's only the pleading.
His hands are shaking. He's fucking all of this up and this muck isn't at all what he wants.
Seamus finally gathers himself together enough to respond and reaches one of those shaking hands up, cupping Dean's cheek and whispers, "No."
"No what?" Seamus looks at Dean, finally meets that gaze and tries for a grin.
"No," he repeats. "Won't forget you said anything. Bit new for me, yeah? Bit weird, been mates and now there's all this… this… stuff."
"Yeah, there is," Dean murmurs.
"It'd be easier if you were a bird."
"Don't think that'll happen any time soon, mate," Dean says dryly but his hand comes up to rest against Seamus's, pressing it in closer.
"Aye, well, I'm sort of glad for it."
The moment slides in to silence as neither seem to know what to say or do. If Dean were a girl, Seamus would lean in and kiss him but Dean's a bloke, his best mate at that, and that means that snogging at this moment might not be appropriate. Seamus could touch his hip with his free hand or entwine it in the back of Dean's hair or maybe he could step closer and slip his arm around the back or…
Or maybe he could just kiss Dean. After all, Dean's lips are right there and he'd tasted brilliant back in Cologne. Seamus leans in, lifts his face and reaches a hand up to pull Dean's face down. Just before they touch, Dean resists.
"You sure?" Dean rests his forehead against Seamus's. "Everything changes after this."
"Aye, that it will." Seamus tilts his face just a bit more and presses his lips against Dean's. "I'm sure."
Dean's mouth is voracious as he kisses Seamus. Seamus succumbs to the onslaught, lets Dean nip his lips or force his mouth open. It's absolutely bloody wonderful, truth be told, with the way that Dean's kissing him and he's kissing Dean. Dean's hungry and needy but Seamus wants, too, wants more than he'd been willing to admit to himself until they'd been away from anyone and everyone they'd ever known. Dean's hands come around so that Seamus's head is anchored into place as he ravages Seamus's mouth. Christ but if this doesn't feel better than ever before, if he isn't hard and rubbing himself against Dean's leg.
Dean's rubbing his leg, as well. He can feel how hard Dean is through his pants. Letting go of Dean's face and neck, Seamus snakes his hands between their bodies to pull Dean's t-shirt up, tugging until it comes off. There's so much smooth skin to explore that his hands roam at will, touching everything he can, pressing in against his collarbone and then along his ribs. Dean pulls back, gasping for air, but Seamus doesn't stop. Instead, he rakes his blunt nails down Dean's chest and then around to his back. He repeats the gesture, raking his nails down Dean's back and then thrusts his hands between pants and skin to touch the top of that tight arse.
"Seamus," Dean breathes out as Seamus presses a finger against the start of his arse crack.
"If you can remember me name, I'm obviously doing something wrong," Seamus says with a cheeky grin and pulls his hands free, playing with Dean's stomach and the waist of his pants.
"You're an arse, an absolute arse."
"Yeah but you love it," Seamus shoots back before realising just what he'd said. The moment turns serious once more. Dean's probably waiting for Seamus to say those three words back to him but Seamus can't do it. He doesn't love Dean, not right now. Hell, it's hard enough to accept that he has any sorts of feelings for Dean let alone all of the stuff that goes along with it. There's no room for love right not, not with all this confusion.
"It's all right, I'm not asking you to say it back," Dean finally says after the uncomfortable silence stretches too far. Dean's hands drift down Seamus's body, lightly skimming and toying with the flesh. Fingertips tickle against Seamus's belly, causing his cock to harden further. Seamus arches his neck backwards, pushing his stomach against those teasing fingers. The fingers change directions, fumbling with Seamus's pants and then sliding them down his hips. Seamus barely feels the cool air of the room brush against his cock before it's engulfed in Dean's grip. His hand drifts up and twists, pulling the foreskin back and then rubbing the slit. Seamus's head falls back the rest of the way as he moans.
"Be quiet or your mam'll hear," Dean whispers and then licks Seamus's exposed neck. Seamus moans again and finds Dean's hand pushed against his mouth. In retaliation for the forced silence, Seamus licks the palm before biting the heel of the palm. Dean gasps and pulls back, letting Seamus take shameless advantage by following his nipping with another bite to Dean's collarbone, his neck, his chest, his nipple.
Dean's grip on his cock tightens further, reminding Seamus that he's been ignoring Dean's. His hands shake a bit – Dean's cock is the first other than his own that he's ever touched – and then he drags the very tips of his fingers up Dean's cock from base to tip. It's Dean's turn to moan and Seamus's turn to put his palm over Dean's mouth. "No biting," he whispers.
Dean says something but Seamus can't make it out so he pulls his hand back, "What'd you say?"
"I said then move your hand," Dean says before leaning down and kissing Seamus one more time.
Seamus's knees go weak from being trapped between Dean's hand and mouth and the way that Dean's snogging the life out of him. "Bed, can we go to the bed? Going to fall in a minute."
"Yeah," Dean mutters. Then they walk together to the bed and, when they land, Seamus is on top of Dean.
Now that he doesn't have to worry about his balance and his knees giving out, Seamus's hands and mouth are everywhere. He grips Dean's cock and tries the same manoeuvre that Dean used with the twist of the grip at the top while his mouth licks and sucks across Dean's chest. The entire time, his senses go into overload from the way that Dean's still tugging on his cock though it's trapped between them. Their knuckles brush and knock into one another.
There's too much touching and sucking and Seamus can't quite catch his breath or his thoughts. Instead, he's stuck on I'm touching Dean, I'm touching Dean, Dean's touching me as it traipses through his head. Seamus rears back and Dean follows, mouthing along Seamus's neck and chest. He grabs Seamus's nipple between his teeth and bites down lightly. When Seamus looks down, he tugs a hair from Seamus's chest.
"Fucker," Seamus curses and then puts his hand over Dean's mouth. Their hands are still moving and Seamus knows that if Dean does one more thing, Seamus is going to come. When Dean bites the tip of Seamus's thumb, Seamus cries out and spills over their hands. Dean follows, bucking up into Seamus's hips.
Seamus collapses against Dean's chest. He's utterly spent and doesn't much care about what they're going to talk about in a few minutes. They have plenty of train rides, Quidditch matches and football matches to get all of this shite figured out during. For now, Seamus just wants to be here, sticky and spent, with Dean.
"Look at him go!" Seamus points towards Xabi Alonso as he runs down the field, kicking the ball between legs and around other players as he moved like he'd obviously been born to move.
"Make a footie fan of you yet," Dean says before slinging an arm around Seamus's shoulder.
"Seen enough games on this trip let alone in all our years to know what's what already," Seamus responds and throws his arm around Dean's waist. As Xabi eludes the goalie – who, in Seamus's opinion is much too far into the field – the ball sails in to the net. Xabi runs towards the captain of his team and leaps in to his arms. A quick kiss to the lips in celebration and then they both run about the field. Seamus turns to Dean and presses his own lips to Dean's. "See? Friends can kiss."
"That they can," Dean says back.
Seamus grins and kisses Dean once more, this time on the cheek next to the curl of his ear. "Fucking love you, I do."
Dean looks startled and Seamus winks. "Best trip ever."
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Date: 2008-05-04 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-04 09:18 pm (UTC)And I want it noted that I hadn't discovered Ollian at that time :D.
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Date: 2008-05-04 09:19 pm (UTC)that is even better!
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Date: 2008-05-04 01:17 pm (UTC)This was so incredibly brilliant, wonderful
they (dean & seamus) are the most lovable people ever
and they're so incredibly cute, and hot
and small bed
and the showers
and the football
and quidditch
and xabi and gerrard...
hot!!!
but not as hot as dean and seamus
*loves* *loves* *loves*
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Date: 2008-05-04 09:19 pm (UTC)YAYES! The request was just a dream. I mean, if someone had requested specifically to get me to want to write for them, this was it! Luckily, I was asked to pick up the prompt and I'm so glad.
Xabi and Gerrard? Lots of research, let me tell you. *leers* Lots and Lots of research. The goal was taken from a youtube clip as Xabi actually did it :D.
and *LOVES* back :D
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Date: 2008-05-04 05:53 pm (UTC)I swear I would have melted into a puddled if possible!
Loveeeeee! <3<3<3
It was so amazing andand I can't pick out the bits I loved most because It was all to amazing for words *is very happy*
Oh how I love your Dean/Seamusness
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Date: 2008-05-04 09:21 pm (UTC)They're a brilliant pairing and have such ease between them that it's easy to see a variety of different ideas.
Glad you enjoyed and, really, your comment made me flaily so I'm sure I'm not making all that much sense but I still appreciate them!
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Date: 2008-05-04 09:57 pm (UTC)aha whats flaily mean xD
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Date: 2008-05-05 11:51 am (UTC)You had me looking for a pic of Xabi and Gerard :P
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Date: 2009-02-01 09:40 pm (UTC)They really really are sexy, aren't they? The goal is real, too, though, obviously, not between those two teams. Xabi actually did it and man, is that a sight to behold :D.
Football. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
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Date: 2008-05-13 02:34 pm (UTC)I can't remember if I commented on this the first time I read it, but even if I did it deserves a second comment. Hell, it deserves a million comments!
This is such a beautiful and poignant look at the boys' emotions. And a great plot. And hot as well!
And "I love you, do you get that? I fucking well love you and I'm standing here asking you for a chance." - best line ever. So much love.
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Date: 2009-02-01 09:42 pm (UTC)I'm so sorry for not responding earlier. I just got an email today that I had a response and when I took a look, there you were, too.
I'm really glad that you enjoyed this so much! It's one of my favorite pieces I've ever written so it does my heart good to see people enjoying it so much!
<3<3<3<3
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Date: 2009-02-02 01:39 pm (UTC)And I had to do some research on the very hot Xabi and Gerard too (g) ... they make me revise my opinions on soccer (or football as us Australians are sposed to call it now)
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Date: 2008-07-02 08:47 pm (UTC)got anymore
hppyflwr
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Date: 2009-02-01 09:42 pm (UTC)I'm very glad you enjoyed this and I hope you've found some of my other works in the meantime. I've quite a few Deamus pieces out there.
<3
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Date: 2009-02-01 03:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 09:44 pm (UTC)<3 Thanks so much for letting me know what you thought! Also - thanks for commenting as it pointed out a few comments I'd never received notifications for! I truly appreciate it!
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Date: 2009-02-02 12:55 pm (UTC)You're welcome! I'm gunna check out some more of your Dean and Seamus... I may be addicted XD