Jealousy
Title: Jealousy
Challenge: my friend said, "Sell me on Seamiver." Done.
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Seamiver (Seamus/Oliver)
There's so much confusion in the common room, that no one even notices that he isn't celebrating with the rest of his year. He hides himself in the corners, removed from the center of the crowds. His joy and house pride is tinged with jealously. He drinks his butterbeer and forces a smile.
Seamus looks around the common room and locks onto a lone figure with the same expression as his own, drinking the same bitter butterbeer. He's not unfamiliar, but he's not expected here, not now thats he's graduated. Without thinking Seamus is walking towards him, as if pulled by some half memory of the older boy.
"We should have won like this every year," Seamus says, sliding next to Wood against the wall. "All this could have been yours. Though, I suppose the victory isn't as sweet if no one has to almost die to catch the snitch."
Wood looks up, surprised. He'd know that sarcastic brogue anywhere. Seamus is taller, older than Wood remembers, but oh he remembers him - remembers the voice, the laugh, the smiling eyes.
"I had my share, I suppose," Wood replies laughing softly. He looks searchingly into the younger boy's face, suddenly serious. "But you never got the chance, did you?"
Seamus knows that Wood is jealous that his own victories had never been so sweet, just as Wood knows that Seamus is debilitating jealous of his friends, of his own best friend. They don't have to say anything about it out loud.
"Slanté," Seamus says raising his bottle, ignoring the question.
"To Griffindor." Wood repeats the gesture.
They lock eyes and drink. The seconds pass, they lower their drinks, and neither of them looks away. It takes someone setting off Filibuster Fireworks for the moment to flicker and for the gaze to be broken.
But the moment didn't really pass. Instead it beaconed to them.
No one notices as they leave the common room together, why would they? Who would pay attention to a Has-Been and a Never-Was on a night like tonight? And since no one saw them leave together, no one will find them later in an empty class, holding each other softly, the sandy-haired boy wrapped around the brown-haired one. Both whispering secrets, jokes, promises into each other's ears, hair, mouths.
Challenge: my friend said, "Sell me on Seamiver." Done.
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Seamiver (Seamus/Oliver)
There's so much confusion in the common room, that no one even notices that he isn't celebrating with the rest of his year. He hides himself in the corners, removed from the center of the crowds. His joy and house pride is tinged with jealously. He drinks his butterbeer and forces a smile.
Seamus looks around the common room and locks onto a lone figure with the same expression as his own, drinking the same bitter butterbeer. He's not unfamiliar, but he's not expected here, not now thats he's graduated. Without thinking Seamus is walking towards him, as if pulled by some half memory of the older boy.
"We should have won like this every year," Seamus says, sliding next to Wood against the wall. "All this could have been yours. Though, I suppose the victory isn't as sweet if no one has to almost die to catch the snitch."
Wood looks up, surprised. He'd know that sarcastic brogue anywhere. Seamus is taller, older than Wood remembers, but oh he remembers him - remembers the voice, the laugh, the smiling eyes.
"I had my share, I suppose," Wood replies laughing softly. He looks searchingly into the younger boy's face, suddenly serious. "But you never got the chance, did you?"
Seamus knows that Wood is jealous that his own victories had never been so sweet, just as Wood knows that Seamus is debilitating jealous of his friends, of his own best friend. They don't have to say anything about it out loud.
"Slanté," Seamus says raising his bottle, ignoring the question.
"To Griffindor." Wood repeats the gesture.
They lock eyes and drink. The seconds pass, they lower their drinks, and neither of them looks away. It takes someone setting off Filibuster Fireworks for the moment to flicker and for the gaze to be broken.
But the moment didn't really pass. Instead it beaconed to them.
No one notices as they leave the common room together, why would they? Who would pay attention to a Has-Been and a Never-Was on a night like tonight? And since no one saw them leave together, no one will find them later in an empty class, holding each other softly, the sandy-haired boy wrapped around the brown-haired one. Both whispering secrets, jokes, promises into each other's ears, hair, mouths.