Fic: Confessions for wook77
Title: Confessions
Author: fiona_fawkes
Giftee: wook77
Pairing: Dean/Seamus
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,113 words
Author's Notes: I tried not to make it too angsty and perhaps we'll even see some of that kissing that you sound like you like so much. Also, a big thank you to my beta for all the wonderful help.
Summary: Dean gets awoken in the middle of the night by a very uncertain Seamus.
"Dean. Hey Dean!" Seamus poked his sleeping friend in the shoulder, a bit harder than he'd intended, but this was kind of important.
"Wha- Huh? Whatimeizit?"
"It's a-" Seamus cast a glance at his wrist watch. "It's about a half three."
"Aww, man," Dean groaned. "What are you doing, waking me up at this hour?"
Seamus shifted his feet nervously, before sitting heavily on the foot of his Dean's bed. "I just, er- I just thought that maybe we could talk."
Dean pushed himself up on his elbows and squinted critically at his flat mate - his best friend since they were children. "Have you been drinking again?"
"Yeah, but that's not the point," Seamus insisted. "Look, I just, um- wanted to- you know- talk. Maybe."
It took Dean a moment to wake himself up, and he spent it just looking at Seamus. The guy was biting his fingers - a nasty habit from his childhood that he only did now when he was really nervous - and he wouldn't look Dean in the eye. Seamus was usually a friendly guy who laughed too loud and had a bad habit of ignoring your personal space. But he was a good guy, and he usually respected Dean's room and his schedule and really, for him to come in and wake Dean up in the middle of the night there must be something terribly wrong.
Dean sat the rest of the way up. "Seamus, what's wrong?"
"It's not nothin' wrong, I guess." He still wouldn't face Dean. "Maybe, not really. That is, I just-" Seamus trailed off with a heavy sigh, nervously scrubbing his hands through his sandy hair. He dropped them into his lap and raised his head to look Dean in the eye. "I just don't know what's happening with me, man."
Now Dean was really getting concerned. "Wrong? What do you mean, Seamus?" Dean reached out to put a supporting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Are you ill?" But Seamus shrugged his way out of Dean's grasp.
"Dean, I -" he swallowed heavily before dropping his gaze. "I'm scared."
"Scared? You?" Dean shook his head. "But why, Seamus? What could you possibly have to be afraid of?"
"I'm afraid of losing you," he whispered. Seamus just sat there, wringing his hands and staring at his lap while Dean tried to process what he was hearing.
"Seamus, I don't understand." Dean shook his head with confusion. "Why would you think that I would go anywhere?"
Seamus looked Dean in the eye and said "Because I don't want us to be friends anymore." His voice was shaking but Dean didn't notice. He was lost in his own thoughts, replaying Seamus's words over and over again - trying to find some alternate meaning to them.
Did Seamus want to move out? Maybe he had a girl he wanted to move in or perhaps he really wasn't as okay with Dean being gay as he'd always insisted that he was. Dean's heart fell. Maybe he wanted to find some other bloke to split the rent on their flat.
Dean was surprised by how much this last thought hurt him. Seamus and him - they'd been through hell together. Sleeping side-by-side through six years of school, and then pulling each other through the bloodiest war the Wizarding world had seen in over a century. "I don't understand, mate. Did I do something? Say something - anything to bring this on?" Dean was really starting to get angry. "I just don't get it, man." He threw back the blankets, not caring that he was tossing them into Seamus's lap, and got up to pace his cluttered room, kicking shoes and books out of his way with his bare feet, mindless of where they were landing.
"Oh Dean, no." Seamus got up quickly, moving in Dean's way to stop his pacing. He grabbed a hold of Dean's shoulders to prevent his retreat. "Not like that. I didn't mean it like that. I swear. I just meant that I didn't want to be just friends anymore. You know?" He looked, into Dean's face, silently imploring him to understand.
It was Dean's turn to shrug his way out of a grasp. He crossed his arms over his chest, erecting an invisible wall to keep his heart inside, lest he lose it. "That's not funny, Finnigan. You're drunk and you-"
"Well of course I'm drunk, Dean. How else would I have found the stones to tell you?" Seamus pulled Dean, wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and just held him tight for a moment. "I promise you Dean. I'm not having you on," he whispered.
Dean was floored. He could feel the slight shake in the fingers that were resting against the base of his neck. Seamus's breath was quick and shallow, creating the tiniest current against Dean's chin and making his skin tingle. Was that his heart that was making such a racket? Surely Seamus could hear it. "Are you…" Dean started, but Seamus moved his hands around to cup Dean's face, framing it perfectly as pulled Dean down into a kiss.
It wasn't a particularly skillful kiss, as far as kissing was concerned. Really, it was just the pressing of Dean's lower lip in between Seamus's and there was just the slightest bit of suction and a taste of the Smithwick's that Seamus favored. But to Dean, it was everything that he'd told himself that he'd never have. It was that final acceptance by Seamus of everything that Dean was. The kiss was familiar and alien all at once. The last decade of their lives melting in a single touch of the lips that might have gone on for hours but was over far too soon as far as Dean was concerned.
Seamus pulled back, and gave Dean a questioning look as he rubbed his lips together like they tingled. Surely they must, because Dean felt it too. "Er-" Dean was at a loss. What did you say after something like that?
"Okay, so I may be pants at putting it into words, but I like you, Dean - a lot. More than I think I should." He flashed Dean a smile that melted his walls and made his arms fall useless at his sides. "So what if took me a few years and a few beers to tell you? I got me point across, yeah?"
"Yeah," Dean laughed lightly. "Yeah, I think I got the message. You got a round about way of getting to your point, though."
"Well, just so long as you get it."
"Yeah, I got it." And Dean leaned in to steal another kiss before dawn and comprehension could steal them back.
Author: fiona_fawkes
Giftee: wook77
Pairing: Dean/Seamus
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,113 words
Author's Notes: I tried not to make it too angsty and perhaps we'll even see some of that kissing that you sound like you like so much. Also, a big thank you to my beta for all the wonderful help.
Summary: Dean gets awoken in the middle of the night by a very uncertain Seamus.
"Dean. Hey Dean!" Seamus poked his sleeping friend in the shoulder, a bit harder than he'd intended, but this was kind of important.
"Wha- Huh? Whatimeizit?"
"It's a-" Seamus cast a glance at his wrist watch. "It's about a half three."
"Aww, man," Dean groaned. "What are you doing, waking me up at this hour?"
Seamus shifted his feet nervously, before sitting heavily on the foot of his Dean's bed. "I just, er- I just thought that maybe we could talk."
Dean pushed himself up on his elbows and squinted critically at his flat mate - his best friend since they were children. "Have you been drinking again?"
"Yeah, but that's not the point," Seamus insisted. "Look, I just, um- wanted to- you know- talk. Maybe."
It took Dean a moment to wake himself up, and he spent it just looking at Seamus. The guy was biting his fingers - a nasty habit from his childhood that he only did now when he was really nervous - and he wouldn't look Dean in the eye. Seamus was usually a friendly guy who laughed too loud and had a bad habit of ignoring your personal space. But he was a good guy, and he usually respected Dean's room and his schedule and really, for him to come in and wake Dean up in the middle of the night there must be something terribly wrong.
Dean sat the rest of the way up. "Seamus, what's wrong?"
"It's not nothin' wrong, I guess." He still wouldn't face Dean. "Maybe, not really. That is, I just-" Seamus trailed off with a heavy sigh, nervously scrubbing his hands through his sandy hair. He dropped them into his lap and raised his head to look Dean in the eye. "I just don't know what's happening with me, man."
Now Dean was really getting concerned. "Wrong? What do you mean, Seamus?" Dean reached out to put a supporting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Are you ill?" But Seamus shrugged his way out of Dean's grasp.
"Dean, I -" he swallowed heavily before dropping his gaze. "I'm scared."
"Scared? You?" Dean shook his head. "But why, Seamus? What could you possibly have to be afraid of?"
"I'm afraid of losing you," he whispered. Seamus just sat there, wringing his hands and staring at his lap while Dean tried to process what he was hearing.
"Seamus, I don't understand." Dean shook his head with confusion. "Why would you think that I would go anywhere?"
Seamus looked Dean in the eye and said "Because I don't want us to be friends anymore." His voice was shaking but Dean didn't notice. He was lost in his own thoughts, replaying Seamus's words over and over again - trying to find some alternate meaning to them.
Did Seamus want to move out? Maybe he had a girl he wanted to move in or perhaps he really wasn't as okay with Dean being gay as he'd always insisted that he was. Dean's heart fell. Maybe he wanted to find some other bloke to split the rent on their flat.
Dean was surprised by how much this last thought hurt him. Seamus and him - they'd been through hell together. Sleeping side-by-side through six years of school, and then pulling each other through the bloodiest war the Wizarding world had seen in over a century. "I don't understand, mate. Did I do something? Say something - anything to bring this on?" Dean was really starting to get angry. "I just don't get it, man." He threw back the blankets, not caring that he was tossing them into Seamus's lap, and got up to pace his cluttered room, kicking shoes and books out of his way with his bare feet, mindless of where they were landing.
"Oh Dean, no." Seamus got up quickly, moving in Dean's way to stop his pacing. He grabbed a hold of Dean's shoulders to prevent his retreat. "Not like that. I didn't mean it like that. I swear. I just meant that I didn't want to be just friends anymore. You know?" He looked, into Dean's face, silently imploring him to understand.
It was Dean's turn to shrug his way out of a grasp. He crossed his arms over his chest, erecting an invisible wall to keep his heart inside, lest he lose it. "That's not funny, Finnigan. You're drunk and you-"
"Well of course I'm drunk, Dean. How else would I have found the stones to tell you?" Seamus pulled Dean, wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders and just held him tight for a moment. "I promise you Dean. I'm not having you on," he whispered.
Dean was floored. He could feel the slight shake in the fingers that were resting against the base of his neck. Seamus's breath was quick and shallow, creating the tiniest current against Dean's chin and making his skin tingle. Was that his heart that was making such a racket? Surely Seamus could hear it. "Are you…" Dean started, but Seamus moved his hands around to cup Dean's face, framing it perfectly as pulled Dean down into a kiss.
It wasn't a particularly skillful kiss, as far as kissing was concerned. Really, it was just the pressing of Dean's lower lip in between Seamus's and there was just the slightest bit of suction and a taste of the Smithwick's that Seamus favored. But to Dean, it was everything that he'd told himself that he'd never have. It was that final acceptance by Seamus of everything that Dean was. The kiss was familiar and alien all at once. The last decade of their lives melting in a single touch of the lips that might have gone on for hours but was over far too soon as far as Dean was concerned.
Seamus pulled back, and gave Dean a questioning look as he rubbed his lips together like they tingled. Surely they must, because Dean felt it too. "Er-" Dean was at a loss. What did you say after something like that?
"Okay, so I may be pants at putting it into words, but I like you, Dean - a lot. More than I think I should." He flashed Dean a smile that melted his walls and made his arms fall useless at his sides. "So what if took me a few years and a few beers to tell you? I got me point across, yeah?"
"Yeah," Dean laughed lightly. "Yeah, I think I got the message. You got a round about way of getting to your point, though."
"Well, just so long as you get it."
"Yeah, I got it." And Dean leaned in to steal another kiss before dawn and comprehension could steal them back.