Title: What Is And What Could Be
Author: Miz Thang
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Seamus [Seamus/Morag & Dean/Parvati mentioned]
Word Count: 9264
Warnings: Er. Slash. Which is obvious, given. Het ships mentioned (as listed above).
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything but the little story’s idea. Everything else belongs to who it belongs to.
Notes/Summary: The difference between trying to make something happen and being faced with it is greater than you know. Written for chaeldub @ hp_springsmut.
"Have you been listening to a thing I've said?"
Dean looked up from his drawing pad, having just finished a bit of sketching, to see Parvati standing a foot or so away with her arms crossed over her chest, a vexed look on her face that told Dean that she already knew the answer to her question, and that it was more rhetorical than anything else.
He set his pencil down and stood, already knowing without a doubt that any answer where he tried to pretend he had even the slightest inkling as to what she was talking about would end badly. "Sorry."
"Sorry?" She echoed as if she couldn't quite grasp what he'd said. "I spend fifteen whole minutes telling you about my day, wasting my breath, and all you can tell me is 'sorry?'"
"Look," Dean said quickly, sharply; he was too tired of going through this every other day with Parvati to just remain quiet. "I've just been a bit busy with some things."
"Things? What things?" Parvati asked bitterly. "You don't do anything! You haven't even got a job. You just sit there, drawing and painting all the time as if that's going to help! I can't wait to see what happens when we're evict -- where are you going?"
In the middle of her short rant, Dean tossed his pad onto the coffee table in their living area and made a break for the door, grabbing his keys off a hook on the wall by the door. He barely stopped to answer her.
He all but slammed the door behind him as Parvati huffed in his wake.
"You know what I don't get?" Dean asked, tossing a look in the direction of his companion, though he didn't wait for a reply. "I don't get the constant nagging. She wakes up – nag. She goes to work - nag. She comes home – nag. Before she goes to bed - nag. And the next day, she starts the soddin' routine all over again."
Seamus snorted at that, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand and shaking his head. "'Least you know what to expect from her."
"Yeah, you're right," Dean agreed with a nod, raising his own beer bottle to his lips. "I know she's going to make me want to throw her out on her arse at least five times every day."
More snorted laughter from his mate, followed by full out laughter, and Dean joined him. He'd had more than just the beer in his hand, having stopped at a pub on his way over to see Seamus, and he'd decided that being slightly less than sober came in handy for getting out the things one would never say face-to-face to someone - in this case, Parvati.
Though, you do have a few things you'd like to say to the person sitting beside you, isn't that right?
"If it's that bad," Seamus asked, "what are you still doin' with her?"
Dean paused at that. He and Parvati had run into each other one night at a pub, caught up while drinking a tad bit too much, crossed a line and never looked back. It had taken three years before they decided to see where it could go. A mistake, in Dean's opinion, because less than two years later, there was something changing. In him. And it was affecting their relationship - not in a positive way, either.
"Five years on and off is a long time, I guess. And there are times when I can stand her." Dean was sure that the fact that they were starting to be fewer and farther between was something that could remain unsaid.
Seamus didn't immediately say anything in response and Dean looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "What about you? Nothing to complain about?"
Seamus hesitated, at least in Dean's opinion, before he answered, "Not of late."
Dean scoffed and was five seconds from calling bullshit when the front door to the flat opened and Seamus' newest girlfriend (or the one he seemed to be sticking with), Morag MacDougal entered, followed closely by Parvati. Dean supposed that their decision to be friends stemmed from his and Seamus' own friendship, and it wouldn't be a stretch to say he was awfully curious about what the women talked about, especially if it was in any way similar to his talks with Seamus.
"Oh, look," Parvati said. "They're drinking. How not surprised am I?"
Dean rolled his eyes at that, recognising the sardonic tone for what it was, and pushed himself to his feet, though he was nowhere near steady. "Vati, you are such a b -"
"Doll?" Morag interjected (in what she must have thought was a sweet voice) from the perch she took on the edge of one of the armchairs in the room. She was obviously trying to avoid another argument in her home. Dean wasn't surprised she felt that way; the last time, two weeks ago in fact, Parvati had thrown a vase at him and the only thing that saved his head - and kept the glass decoration in one piece - was Morag using Accio on it.
"You were going to say 'doll,' weren't you, Dean?"
"Right," Dean said, though he did give Morag a look that told her that he was about to say anything but that. She just continued to smile as if he didn't surprise her in the slightest. Dean was sure that he didn't. He guessed that was one of the things Seamus liked about Morag; she had this distinct inability to be fazed by most things.
"Good," Parvati said, turning to Dean. "We're going to go now, before you get any more pissed."
Dean was none too happy when Parvati took a hold of his arm and walked him in the direction of the fireplace, taking a handful of Floo powder and tossing it in. He managed to give Seamus a final wave before Parvati shoved him through.
"Well," Morag started as Parvati disappeared into their fireplace. "We're alone."
Seamus was standing, picking up the half-empty beer bottle Dean hadn't had the chance to finish along with the few that had come before. He paused at that statement of the obvious and looked over at Morag as she remained seated on the armchair, a grin that was crossing into smirk territory on her face.
"Yeah, we are," he finally answered, swallowing over the sudden lump that formed in his throat, his eyes just slightly wide as he turned his back to her to enter their kitchen area and dispose of the bottles.
"Seamus. I've been living here for a month, and you haven't touched me at all since the night of." Morag said, the aggravation in her voice obvious even if he couldn't currently see the frown on her face. "All right, so that's a bit of a lie. You've touched me; just not in the way I want you to."
Seamus winced at that, because it was the truth. He'd kept his distance from her whenever it was close to happening. And he couldn't just tell her that -
That what? You've had a few dreams, is all. You'll be fine in a few days.
It was almost comical how denial worked, because he'd been telling himself that exact same thing all month, that it was only a few dreams and that everything would be fine in a few days, but it wasn’t yet and a part of him wasn’t really sure that it would be.
"Tonight just isn't the night."
Morag heaved an audible sigh from the other room. He thought he heard her mutter, "Tonight is never the night," but he wasn't sure.
In a loud, clear voice, she said, "Remember who asked whom to move in, Seamus? Remember how my father told me I was being crazy and foolish and I told him to shove it? Because you know how I hate being wrong about things. I'd even go as far as to say I abhor it. So don't make me wrong."
Seamus didn't reply to that, not exactly having the sort of reply Morag would want. He couldn't say that she wouldn't be, because he didn't know if what she wanted to hear would be the truth or not.
A moment passed before a resigned, "I'm going to bed," came from her and he listened as she passed by the kitchen and moved down the hall towards the bedroom.
Seamus wanted to throw something in frustration at that, but instead he hit the countertop. He really did want this relationship to work. But there were things... Dean... that kept ruining it. The most frustrating part was that Dean wasn't even trying.
He just...he just did it, somehow. And Seamus didn't understand how, or why, or what it was that had turned everything upside down, but he wasn't going to let it stay like this. He wouldn't.
Seamus couldn't remember how it happened. One moment, they were just two mates sharing a few drinks as they talked, and the next, he'd kissed Dean. Maybe it was surprise that made it a blur; he wasn't that drunk, was he? Was it even possible to tell when you were too drunk to remember events correctly?
As if he knew that Seamus' brain was in overdrive, Dean gave him a somewhat stern look. "Less thinking."
"Right," was Seamus' reply, and Dean gave him a grin before kissing Seamus again, pushing him back so that Dean was on top. Seamus decided to take his advice and thought less on the things that didn't matter, and more on the things that did. Like, for example, what it felt like to have Dean's lips on his.
Electrifying, he thought, one hand on Dean's shoulder as the other held his hip. He finally had a chance to breathe when Dean kissed his jaw line, and then his neck and collarbone, before he was inching Seamus' shirt up as far as he could and tasting his skin.
He groaned lightly when Dean ran his teeth over his skin, biting and then kissing, and he closed his eyes in a mixture of pleasure and anticipation as he felt Dean pull at his belt, undoing it, his breath becoming just the slightest bit more shallow as Dean ran a hand along the bulge in the front of his trousers -
There was a sudden ringing near Seamus' ear that sounded a lot like his alarm clock, and his eyes shot open, taking in the facts. He was in bed, in nothing but a pair of boxers. Morag, who had to be the deepest sleeper he knew, was still passed out beside him, and he'd obviously been dreaming. About what could've happened if Parvati and Morag hadn't shown up last night, he knew. As he became more aware of the fact that he'd only been dreaming - again, he also noticed that he was hard.
He looked over to the other side of the bed where Morag was, thinking to himself that the last thing he needed was for her to find out that a dream about his best friend had done things to his anatomy that she hadn't - though he still had his moments when he thought of her and wanted her, she just didn't match up. Somehow. It was just a bit confusing, and had been for a while now.
He slid out of bed and made his way to their bathroom, feeling more than slightly awkward because a month and a half ago, he'd have rolled over and woken Morag up in an interesting way, and now, he was hiding it. Hell, a month and a half ago, she'd have been almost the entire reason for it.
He closed the door behind him, suppressing the urge that he had to lock it behind him. He turned on the shower's taps, glancing at his reflection in the mirror as he waited for the water to warm up.
“You can't keep doing this, Finnigan.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “You and Dean - it just can't happen. Itcan't.”
When steam started to fog the mirror, Seamus tested the water, adjusting the temperature and taking off his pants before he got under the warm spray, closing his eyes.
Dean pulled at his trousers and pants all at once, sliding them down just enough to reveal the skin of Seamus' hips. He gave Seamus a half-grin before he bent down and nipped at his skin. Seamus' breath became just a bit shallow then, as Dean pulled his clothing further down. Once they were around his knees, Dean stopped, keeping his eyes on Seamus as he took a firm hold on Seamus' cock, sliding his hand over the length. He took his time, making Seamus pant and groan until he was almost begging Dean to go faster and get him off -
"You're taking longer than I do, you sod! If the hot water runs out on me when I get in there, I'm going to kill you!"
The sharp knock followed by Morag's voice pulled Seamus back to reality where he was leaning against the shower wall with his hand wrapped around his dick as he attempted to use the continuation of his fantasy to get himself to come.
"Be out in a few minutes!" He replied after what could have been a long moment, trying not to sound as if he'd been doing anything other than taking a shower. It seemed like no matter how he tried, Dean just snuck his way in. And Seamus was going to be awfully screwed if he didn't get over this thing, and concentrate on his relationship with Morag. He wanted it to work out with her, he did.
So it had to stop.
When Dean rolled out of bed, Parvati was still asleep. Thankfully. The last thing he needed to hear was that it had been completely juvenile of him to walk out on her like that and then go get drunk with Seamus like he had. The fact that it sort of had been was irrelevant as far as he was concerned.
A frown remained on his face, his eyes slightly narrowed in that pained way due to his slight hangover, and he ignored the voice in his head that told him that he needed to just go back to sleep and wake up when it was less early in the day. He made his way from the bedroom to their kitchen, wanting to revel in the half-hour he had before Parvati needed to get ready for work.
Oddly enough, two months ago, Dean was fairly sure that Parvati hadn't annoyed him at every turn. He could even go as far as to say that he was sure that he and Parvati had been absolutely fine in their relationship, perfect even, and that half the things that bothered them now hadn't before. No stupid arguments over incredibly stupid things, and never had Dean wondered what it would be like to just not have her around.
Something about Seamus had changed around then. Or maybe, Seamus had stayed the same, same as he'd always been, and Dean had changed instead. Maybe he'd changed and started to see Seamus in a different light than he had in the previous twelve years. Whatever it was, Seamus wasn't just his best friend anymore, and he started to wonder, hope, he wasn't the same to Seamus either.
There, Dean knew, had been the start of the downfall. From Parvati nagging him over every little thing because she probably felt the change too, to Dean wanting to spend less time with her and more with Seamus, to the arguing. And then, just when Dean was ready to tell Parvati he just couldn't be with her anymore, despite Seamus telling him that they'd been fine before and could be again (which Dean attributed to a combination of trying to be a good friend and being clueless about the fact that Dean didn't really want the relationship any more), Morag entered stage left and threw Dean for a loop, because before that, he'd been sure that one conversation with Seamus and then...
He didn't have a clue of how he could tell Seamus now, considering everything, but there were times when he thought that despite the presence of Morag, he could actually do it. It was only a matter of being absolutely certain.
Dean gave Parvati a surprised look when she hurried into the living room at the sound of the front door closing, a wide smile on her face. He gave her a look, raising an eyebrow at her behaviour.
"I made dinner. So we could eat. And talk," She answered. When his raised eyebrow only climbed higher, she laughed and said, "All right. So Padma made dinner for me. But it still stands that there is an actual meal in the dining room."
Dean found himself laughing at that as Parvati's smile widened, and he was reminded of when he told Seamus that sometimes he could stand her.
"You swear Padma was the one who cooked?"
She held up her right hand, traces of a smile still on her face. "I swear."
His smile faded when she hurried back into the kitchen to finish whatever she'd been in the middle of before his arrival. This wasn't enough for him to change his mind, he realised. One bright moment when they'd been just like they used to be wasn't enough. He knew that. Because he was completely sure of what he wanted.
And it wasn't Parvati.
"Hey," Dean said as Seamus opened the door, a grin playing at his lips.
"Hey," Seamus said in reply, trying to ignore the memory of all that he'd been imagining since the dream the night before, taking a few steps back to let him in and closing the door behind him. He had a feeling this was going to be a very awkward visit.
"Uh. Where's Morag?" Dean asked curiously as he turned to face Seamus.
"Decided to visit her parents," Seamus answered easily enough, coming to stand in front of Dean. He shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Dean as he nodded in answer to that, looking down at the carpet. It could be easy, he thought, to just forget about Morag for one moment and kiss Dean. Just to see what it felt like. It could be easy, that was true, but he knew he'd never do it.
Morag and all the things he wanted from her, from their relationship, were always in the back of his mind. She was, though not exactly, dangerously close to the type of woman he could see himself with, or the kind he always thought would stick. Not to mention, he had a feeling she’d have the ability to actually win his mother over (and he remembered thinking years before that it would be a good idea to have that be a standard). Not to mention, there was something about her as a person that he loved and wanted to hold onto. And then there was Dean. He knew he wanted Dean, he could imagine what things might be like with Dean - the same friendship but with a new level of intimacy, but he didn’t know how Dean felt about him. He had no idea if it would last even if Dean did feel the same way, and he was hesitant to screw their friendship up over what was so far only a feeling in his gut and a few dreams.
After a moment, Seamus rolled his eyes at himself, the feeling still there but having lessened a bit, and he realised he shouldn't be this uncomfortable with Dean.
"Want a -?"
Dean looked up from the floor and stared at Seamus when he started to speak, before grabbing the collar of his shirt and yanking him close, cutting his question off via a spontaneous kiss. He was shocked at first, almost completely frozen with it, but it didn’t last nearly as long as Seamus would have assumed it would, and he found that in under thirty seconds, he was grabbing Dean and responding for the kiss, losing himself for that moment.
He stayed lost, thinking of nothing but the fact that he'd wanted this for a while and that it was actually right before him -
And then he was back; he remembered who he was, what was happening, and Morag. He forced himself to pull away, breathing heavily as he took several steps back, and shaking his head as he tried to think properly.
"Dean, I can't do this."
"Seamus," Dean started, short of breath himself. "I want this, and you want -"
"Maybe I do. But I can't." Seamus cut him off, holding up a hand when Dean took a step forward.
Dean stopped, giving him a frustrated look, his fists clenching in frustration for a moment as he looked away before his attention was on Seamus again. "Fine. Why not?"
"I'm going to marry her," Seamus replied, watching the look on Dean's face change from confidence to disbelief.
"Yeah, right," Dean said with a laugh, shaking his head. "You can't be -"
"I am. I bought the ring. Gave it to her. She accepted it."
Disbelief became anger again, Seamus noticed and it wasn't completely unexpected when Dean stalked past him and out of the flat, slamming the door in his wake.
Seamus closed his eyes at the sound, letting out a breath and silently wishing he could forget what it felt like to actually have Dean right in front of him, in his arms, kissing him. It wasn't working out so well.
Seamus woke up before his alarm even had the chance to start, minutes before it even, and opened his eyes as he rolled over. He found the other side of the bed to be empty, surprisingly. Typically it never happened, because Morag was a woman from a typically rich Pureblood family and the only income she actually needed was the one she had - a trust fund or two and her monthly allowance.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and found Morag to be standing in front of their dresser, staring at the mirror. She noticed then, when he woke, catching his gaze in their reflection.
"You think it might finally be all right to tell people?" She asked. No “good morning”, no ”sleep well?”, no ”you snored incredibly loud all night and I couldn't get any sleep, you git, and the only thing that kept me from putting a pillow over your head and smothering you was the fact that I'm sort of fond of you.”
Seamus paused at that for a moment, slowly bringing his hand from his face. He didn't answer, instead tossing the covers off his body and climbing out the bed. He came to stand behind her, looking down at what she held in her hands.
"Yeah, I think it's about time," he finally answered her.
Last night, when Dean has kissed him, he'd awakened something, there was no denying that. He'd made the fantasy just a bit more real, and for a second, Seamus had almost believed he could just let go of Morag and maybe have a life with Dean. But what he'd told Dean was truth. He just...couldn't.
She grinned, lifting an extravagant ring that Seamus could have never, with any salary he could have been making, buy without the help of her parents, and slid it onto the ring finger of her left hand.
"I've wanted to put this on for an entire week," she said with a grin, raising her hand up to admire the ring. She looked at his reflection before spinning to face him, the joyful look still on her face. "Let's go out tonight. Celebrate."
"With your parents?" He asked, trying to grasp where her sudden happiness had come from.
"Nah." Morag shook her head. "They know, I'm sure. With Vati and Dean, of course."
Seamus wasn't looking forward to seeing Dean after the last conversation they'd had, but how could he tell Morag that he and Dean weren't on the best of terms right now? Oh, that was right. He couldn't.
"Right. Sure." Seamus smiled thinly.
Morag raised an eyebrow in that way she tended to do, but it only lasted a moment before she was back to admiring her ring. She grinned. "Brilliant. I'll tell Parvati at lunch."
Seamus' alarm then went off, and he fervently wished he'd waited for it before he'd decided to get up.
Dean didn't want to be out tonight, celebrating Seamus' engagement to Morag. In fact, the last thing Dean wanted to be out doing on any night was celebrating Seamus' engagement to anyone. But when Parvati had told him about the invitation to dinner on her lunch break, and refused to take any sort of no - no matter how insistent he became - for an answer, Dean finally gave in and agreed to go. Which didn't mean he had to be happy about it.
Seamus raised his wine glass to his lips and drained the contents quickly before setting his glass back on the table with a slight clang and calling the waiter over to have his glass refilled. Morag raised an eyebrow at him, also seeming to notice Dean's continuous sulking position before her attention was recaptured by Parvati as she complimented every aspect of the ring possible, from the cut, clarity, carats and brilliant, deep orange colour of the diamond to the overall design of the ring with the band being encrusted by smaller colourless ones. And Morag basked in the attention, because that was what she did best.
So, yeah, Dean realised that he was sounding just a bit jealous, even to himself, and he tried not to be angry at Morag, even if she was quite possibly going to actually become Seamus' wife, because she hadn't actually done anything to him. She didn't have any idea about how he felt about Seamus.
This is ridiculous. He has to know that this is ridiculous. Dean though as he watched Seamus meet his eyes for a moment before looking away and drinking a bit more of his wine.
Morag noticed once again and looked at Dean for a moment before placing a hand on Seamus' right arm - the left hand that made the diamonds on her engagement ring glint in the light. Dean had the distinct feeling that Morag's dear father had helped Seamus pay for it; no way would he let his little princess have some ickle thing unworthy of being on her finger.
"Are you all right, love?" Morag asked, giving Seamus a concerned look.
Dean could feel that jealousy rearing its ugly head once again and tried to avert his eyes from where they seemed to be stuck on Morag's left hand, picking up his own glass and taking a healthy swig.
Seamus gave her a reassuring grin and set his glass down. "Never better," he said and Dean knew he was lying because he did what he always did when he was lying; he bit his lip. He wondered if Morag even knew that about Seamus.
"Okay," Morag answered, though she didn't seem to be fooled (and Dean tried to not have a jealous thought about how if he wasn't so sure that Seamus didn't really belong with her, he'd say she was perfect for him).
"Well, Vati and I are going to go to the ladies' room for a moment. Don't burn down the restaurant," she said teasingly, giving Seamus a quick kiss on the lips and then sparing Dean a short look that he didn't pay much mind.
The two got up and left the table, probably to talk more about the ring while Dean watched Seamus as he finished off his glass of wine again. Dean himself had another sip before he decided to get to the matter at hand.
"Yeah?" Dean received in reply as Seamus started to drum his fingers on the tabletop. It was a nervous habit he'd never gotten rid of; Dean liked it, and wondered - quite a bit uncharitably, if this was another habit Morag hadn’t a clue about. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if she didn’t.
"Why are you marrying her when -?"
"I didn't just decide to out of nowhere, Dean," Seamus said, the drumming coming to an end as he laid his palms flat on the table, staring down at them. Dead did also, though he didn't know why he felt compelled to.
"Fine." Dean nodded in acceptance. "Then, why are you?"
"We'd been thinking, talking, about it for a bit. I finally bought the ring and asked her about a week ago." Seamus finally looked up, meeting Dean's eyes across the table.
"How long's a bit?"
"Since she moved in."
Dean couldn't help the jealous feeling curling in his gut when he said that, and his question was asked before he could reign in his feelings and think. "What, is she pregnant?"
A frown that had slowly started to form deepened into a glare in less than a second, Dean noticed.
"Is that the only reason you think I'd have? Getting her up the duff?"
Dean ignored the question. "Well, did you?"
Seamus leaned forward, the look on his face darkening and the anger in his voice palpable. "Not that it's any of your business, but no. I did it 'cause I wanted to and I didn't need any other reason for it but that."
"And the ki -"
"Meant nothing," Seamus replied immediately, looking away as Morag and Parvati returned on cue. Dean couldn't look away from him in shock, unable to believe that he'd really just said it meant nothing. There wasn't any way that could have meant nothing at all.
Morag grinned widely as she retook her seat. "So, who wants dessert?"
Seamus still had the angered look on his face when he said, "Celebration's over."
The front door opened and slammed shut with Parvati's arrival from another day at work and Dean barely looked up from his easel as he continued to paint. From the corner of his eye, he noticed as she stopped and stared at him for a moment before she shook her head. He had a feeling that she had questions, one of them possibly being "what the hell happened last night?" but he wasn't sure saying that he got into an argument with Seamus over being jealous of his fiancé was the way to go. He had no idea how to even begin to describe the way he felt after last night.
Maybe it had been his fault, jumping to conclusions and assuming that he knew why Seamus was marrying Morag, but damn it, it was so fucking frustrating that he was refusing to take a chance and see what could happen with them. Instead, Seamus was holding onto something that completely wouldn't last. And, even if it did, he didn't belong there.
He belongs with me, Dean thought with an angry stroke of his brush, just as he saw Parvati enter the room out of the corner of his eye, taking a few things off the mantle of the fireplace. That caused him to pause and he set his brush down. "What are you doing?"
Parvati paused. "What? You mean you actually care?"
Dean sighed at the remark, not entirely sure if it wasn't undeserved, or if he was more guilty or annoyed. He supposed it was probably a combination of both, or maybe it was all three.
"Vati, don't - "
"No," she cut him off, holding up a hand. "I have been trying for the past two months to make this work, because I thought we had a future together. But, it's not. And it won't. So I'm leaving."
Pictures and a few knickknacks that she'd brought along with her in hand, Parvati turned her back on him and headed down the hall towards the bedroom.
He stood, throwing the smock he'd worn to protect his clothing onto the chair and following Parvati down the hallway, trying to think of what to say. It was a bit ironic that he'd been pushing her in this direction for weeks, and then, when he finally got what he wanted, he wanted to...not get her to stay. He knew that. He didn't want to get her to stay, but maybe he wanted to soften the blow? Make it easier. Of course, he didn't know how much easier he could make it.
He pushed the bedroom door open to find her packing a small bag. She didn't look up, though he saw her entire body tense at his arrival. After a moment, she stopped and looked up at him.
"Who is it, Dean?" She asked softly. "Who is it that you care more about?"
That had been one of the things Dean had liked about her, he remembered. She had the ability to be intuitive when she wanted to. He just really wished this didn't have to one of those times.
There's a great difference between trying to make something happen and then being faced with it, isn't there, Thomas?
She didn't look away, truly wanting an answer from him. An answer he didn't know if it would be a good idea to give -
"Seamus," he answered before he could stop himself.
She nodded, turning her head to the side and letting out a laugh that had a hysterical tinge to it. "Seamus?"
She'd obviously been expecting another woman and Dean sighed, because the truth really was out now. "Yeah."
"Does he know? About -?"
"Yeah. He does." He looked at the carpet, scratching the back of his head and feeling just a little hesitant to continue this conversation. It was one thing to tell your soon-to-be ex-girlfriend that you'd rather your best mate over her; it was another to get into the specifics of it.
Parvati pursed her lips, obviously thinking about Morag when she said, "And does he want -?"
"He wants to marry her," Dean replied, cutting Parvati off before she could finish the question. "That's what he wants."
Parvati closed the bag she had sitting on the bed. "I still should tell her. I mean -"
"I'm not going to mess up what he wants if he wants her, Parvati," Dean said a frown on his face and the beginnings of anger in his voice. "You know me better than that."
"Correction," she stated, hefting the bag onto her shoulder. "I used to know you better than that. Because I thought you wouldn't beat around the bush and make this the bitter ending it's become, and I was wrong. You let this go on for two months longer than it ever should have - and I stayed because I thought you still wanted me here."
She sighed. "I won't tell Morag, fine. But we are most definitely over." She breezed past him, decisively keeping her face turned from him as she did so.
"I'll be back for the rest of my things when I feel less like killing you," she called out as she walked down the hall. "Who knows when that will be, though."
The front door slammed with a finality that really wasn't the same as he'd wondered it would be like. There was still the matter of doing damage control with Seamus, though, and he was torn between dreading it, and desperately looking forward to it.
For a moment after he opened the front door of his flat, Seamus wanted to just close it back. As if sensing his desire, Dean held up a hand just in case and hurriedly said, "Look, I'm sorry."
Seamus only raised an eyebrow. He'd never been as angry with Dean as he'd been last night. Had never wanted to throttle the hell out of him so much. And, oddly enough, much like right this moment, kiss him. He wanted to kiss him. In fact, his blood was practically singing in desire of it. It took nearly all the self-control he had to keep his hands on the door and to himself and not reach out for Dean.
"I shouldn't have said what I did last night. I know you better than that," Dean continued. "And I don't want to ruin our friendship with this."
"Good," Seamus said with a nod. "I don't want it to, either."
"As long as you're sure..." Dean trailed off, not finishing the sentence aloud. As long as you're sure about Morag, Seamus knew he would have said.
"Put a ring on her finger, didn't I?" Seamus asked, though that was only a half-truth and didn't really answer his question.
Dean nodded though, obviously accepting that answer and not wanting to push. "Right."
Seamus looked down for a moment, thinking, and then looked over at Dean. "You should, er, come by my office tomorrow. We could go out for lunch."
Dean grinned at the suggestion and Seamus felt a bit relieved that this thing between them, this thing that was like the ridiculously huge elephant in the room, wasn't going to completely screw up their friendship.
"Yeah, all right," Dean said eagerly and Seamus found himself smiling at his reaction. "See you tomorrow, then?"
"Yeah," Seamus agreed with a nod and closed the door behind Dean when he left.
"Who was that?"
He locked the door and turned to find Morag clad in only a towel with a curious look on her face. "That was Dean."
"Oh." She made a face and bit her lip before she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Did he tell you?"
Seamus frowned, titling his head. "Tell me what?"
"About him and Parvati," Morag answered. Seamus was still frowning, so she continued, "Parvati finally left him today. He really didn't tell you?"
"No." He said, sounding as surprised as he looked, wondering if it had happened because of him. The thought that it most likely was left an odd feeling in his stomach.
Morag raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't that seem a bit weird to you? Vati wouldn't tell me why."
Seamus looked over at Morag then. "When did this happen?"
"You mean when did she pack up and get out? About an hour ago. She owled me right after from Padma's and she is completely irate. She won't tell me what happened." Morag shrugged and turned to head back down the hall to their bedroom. "Life happens, though; what can you do?"
Morag didn't seem to need or want an answer from him as she disappeared down the hall and left Seamus standing there in complete surprise.
He was nervous. For some reason, he was really nervous. He had the telltale sweaty palms, and every time some passed by, or if he even heard a set of footsteps that seemed to stop on the other side of the door, he looked up in case it actually might be Dean. Complete with the jump start in his pulse.
He didn't understand what this was. Had Morag's revelation changed something somehow? It shouldn't have, because he knew -- he was quite sure of it actually -- that somewhere he wanted to still marry her. He was as sure of that as -
As you are that you almost want to not marry her so that you can be with Dean?
Seamus sighed, closing his eyes and running a hand over her face at the thought that wasn't too much of a revelation.
"Are we working hard, or hardly working?"
Instantly, Seamus looked up and found Dean to be in the doorway, an easy grin on his face when he caught Seamus' attention. Probably because he woke up for the first time without Parvati this morning.
He laughed, saying in reply, "Always hardly working," as he stood. He walked around the desk as Dean closed the door behind him and came further into the room, sliding his hands into his pockets as he stopped right in front of Seamus.
Seamus only contemplated whether he should bring it up or not for a moment. "Morag told me what happened with you and Parvati."
Dean paused for a split moment, almost looking shocked, before he shrugged, staring down and purposely not meeting Seamus' gaze. "Girls really like to talk, don't they?"
Seamus rolled his eyes at that non-answer, seeing what Dean was doing for what it was. "Did it have anything to do with me?"
Dean did look up then and finally met the look he was being given. "She asked me and I answered. Simple as that."
"So...you told her?" He asked, slightly stunned. "That it was -?"
"You?" Dean finished when Seamus stopped himself, and Seamus nodded in response. "Yeah. She asked me...she wanted to know what you wanted. And I told her you wanted to marry Morag. And to not bring it up. "
Seamus frowned at the answer. "Why?"
"Even with..." Dean trailed off, probably trying to think of words that could accurately describe it. There really wasn't any, though. "Even with what's going on between us, you're still my best mate. And I'm not going to make a mess of what you want just to have it my way."
Seamus nodded in acceptance of that, and clenched his fist as he attempted to force down the desire to do something a person who had a fiancé didn't do. Wouldn't do. Especially not if they really wanted to marry her.
Do you really, though? No. No, he was not going to do this now. He wasn't going to do this, he really wasn't. Except for how he was.
He could feel the surprise and tension in Dean's body when he first grabbed him by the collar, and he paused for a moment, searching his face before he closed his eyes and kissed him. Almost instantly, the surprise and tension seemed to fade, because he felt Dean give back, grabbing a hold of his clothing in response.
Seamus didn't think. Not about Morag. Not about the ring on her finger. Right now, it didn't matter, because the only things, the only people that mattered were him and Dean and what this kiss was doing to him.
Dean pulled back, just enough to bring the kiss to an end, but he didn't let go of Seamus, or try to get him to let go. He started to protest, "Seamus -"
"Less thinking." Seamus cut him off, knowingly repeating the Dean in his fantasies. Dean gave him a bit of a half-smile and Seamus pulled him close again, kissing him.
There was no surprise this time as they stumbled away from the centre of his office, Seamus doing more of the leading, his hands going for Dean's belt as Dean undid the buttons on his shirt. His hands were cool against Seamus' warm skin, and he groaned into the kiss.
With another hard kiss, Seamus undid Dean's trousers, pushing them down over his hips as Dean leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. "Door's unlocked."
"So?" Seamus replied, rubbing the bulge in the front of Dean's pants and watching with both satisfaction and pleasure as Dean gasped and leaned his head back against the wall.
"Anyone could walk in."
"Again, Dean. So?"
That got a breathy laugh out of Dean as Seamus pulled his underwear down, not even giving Dean the chance to get them down his legs or kick them off before Seamus was wrapping his hand around his cock in a tight grip, sliding his hand up and down once and running his thumb along the head as Dean's breath deepened.
All of Seamus' attention was on Dean and the way he reacted to Seamus, from the way he kept his eyes closed, to the way he lifted his hips ever so slightly as Seamus increased the pace, jerking in a way he knew worked for him and was hoping worked for Dean as well. From the way he said Seamus' name in a breathless whisper, reacting just the slightest bit more erratically and tightening his grip on Seamus, he assumed that he was doing fine.
The room was dead silent - or as silent as it could be with the people who were actually working on the other side of the door - when Dean pulled Seamus into another kiss, holding him close as Seamus worked at getting him to come. Seamus placed a few kisses to the corner of his mouth and his jaw line, able to tell he was close just by the way he grabbed at Seamus with a tight hold. He said Seamus’ name in a whisper, giving a grunt that was more of a moan, and Seamus pulled back slightly, just to watch the way his eyes fluttered closed and his face slackened when he came.
"What if..."Dean started, slowly opening his eyes as his fingers played along his hips, ghosting across the skin. He undid Seamus' belt and the first button on his trousers, pushing them and his underwear down off his hips, just enough to reveal his erection. He waited until he had Seamus biting his lip as he switched their position, pinning Seamus against the wall, before he continued. "She walked in, right now? Saw us?"
There was no question of who "she" was. "She" was Morag, of course. Ten minutes ago, their undeniable desire for each other had been the elephant in the room; now it was her.
Dean didn't seem to be expecting an immediate answer, pressing a brief kiss to Seamus' lips, then his shoulder blade, and sliding lower as Seamus' heart beat just that tad bit faster in anticipation, like all those other times his mind dreamed up before. Only this was the real thing.
"Stop teasing," Seamus said when Dean stopped at his navel and stayed there.
"You haven't answered the question yet. What if she walked in right now and saw me about to go down on you?"
Seamus closed his eyes as Dean drifted just an inch or two lower. He wasn't completely sure if the answer was completely true or just something he said because it was the way he felt at that exact moment. "I wouldn't stop. Wouldn't care."
"Good answer," was the only response he got, or really needed, as Dean eased Seamus' cock into his mouth, taking his sweet time. Probably knows how much you want this. Seamus thought. He didn't care though; it felt too good for him to care.
Maybe it was mediocre, maybe it was the best; Seamus wouldn't be able to tell you the difference. After the initial fact that it was happening sank in, he lost himself in it. Closing his eyes and not thinking, just concentrating on Dean - what it felt like to have Dean's mouth on him, what it was doing to him, what it made him want to do in return. He wasn't quite sure that a lunch break would be enough time for that, though.
His breathing became deeper, just slightly audible, as he fantasized on what it would be like if they had more than just his lunch break. Propping Dean against the wall (any wall anywhere would do, but Seamus was working with the limits of his office), maybe even on his desk - locking the door though, because the last thing he needed was to get fired. For hours maybe, making Dean come and then building him up for another round of fun...
"Dean." Seamus' eyes shot open then and he looked down at Dean, attempting to convey what he couldn't with words as he felt that telltale pressure pushing down, and he let his head drop back against the wall as he resisted the urge to thrust his hips. Dean seemed to get the hint, pulling back and instead jerking his dick with quick pulls as Seamus squeezed his eyes shut, pressing a fist against his mouth as he came.
It took him a few moments to get his breathing back to something resembling normal and, even then, before a few more before Dean hesitantly said, "So. What now?"
Seamus knew what he had to do. Considering what had just happened, could happen again, might happen again (would probably happen again); though it made the fact that he still kind of hoped Morag wouldn't just throw things and yell wishes for him to die null and void, it was pretty much obvious.
"I have to talk to Morag first. Tell her...everything."
When Dean opened his front door to find Morag standing there with a wide smile on her face as if she were happy to see him, the first thing he thought was that Seamus hadn't had an opportunity to tell her yet. Either she'd come straight here after work, or he hadn't gotten home yet. He didn't know which option it was, but he knew she had no idea yet. There was no way she could know, and still be polite.
"Parvati still feels like killing you, but she wants her stuff, so she sent me to get it," she said by way of explanation, and Dean stepped back to let her in. She entered the flat, and then turned back as he closed the door behind her. "You know, I still don't understand what happened between you two."
Dean shrugged, not knowing how much she should tell her. If he should even tell her at all.
He was sure that was Seamus' job. "Just didn't work out."
Morag nodded but didn't give a direct answer, and instead took a look around the living room. "You know what's hers and what isn't, right?"
"Uh, yeah. Just let me know if you aren't sure."
"Thanks." She smiled once again and Dean was sure that there was a bit of guilt he was feeling because of the simple fact that he'd stolen her fiancé from her and she had no clue of it.
There wasn't much that belonged to Parvati in the living room, and even less in the kitchen, and as she'd gotten everything from the bathroom the first time she left, the only things of Parvati's for Morag to get were in the bedroom.
Dean pulled Parvati's trunk that she left behind from the closet and set it on the bed for Morag, and indicated the closet. "I'd check there and the dresser."
"Right," Morag said, moving towards the closet. She took out the things decidedly feminine, and folded them, setting them neatly into the trunk. A whole three minutes passed before she spoke again.
"I know, you know."
For a second, Dean felt like his heart had stopped, and he got that odd feeling in his gut as he watched her. His eyes widened and his mind raced because there was no way she could be talking about what he thought she was talking about. There was absolutely no way she could have actually had that conversation Seamus had said he'd have with her, and then still come here and be so calm about the entire situation. Even considering the possibility sounded absurd to Dean, and it showed in his face, and in his voice.
"You know?" he asked even still, not wanting to be the person that said it first, "You know what?"
He already knew the answer, and she already knew that he knew the answer, but she played along anyway, her back to him as she rifled through the closet for Parvati's clothing, her voice remaining entirely too conversational with the current topic to be right.
"About you and Seamus, of course," she answered. "I had a feeling about Seamus' behaviour before he told me what happened today, but that just confirmed it."
Dean frowned as he watched her fold robes and skirts and dresses, before she returned to the closet. "You're not okay with it." It was a definite a statement and not a question.
"Okay with it?" She echoed, and then gave a slight laugh. "Right now, I'm suppressing the urge to hex the both of you into next year. I think though, that by tomorrow, I'll be right as rain."
"What do you mean, 'be right as rain'?"
Morag turned to face him, smiling widely. Triumphantly, even. "I'm sure Seamus will come over either tonight or tomorrow, or maybe you'll go see him, and he'll tell you that I didn't move out, or throw his engagement ring back at him, or tell him I hated him and never wanted to see him again, or that we were over. Because I forgave him. He actually had this look of relief on his face."
She'd finished with the closet and moved on to the dresser, picking up anything that looked like it might have been left behind by Parvati, and checking the drawers.
"I'm not going to be wrong, Dean. Not about him. I utterly refuse to be wrong." Morag cut Dean off as she turned to face him where he sat on his bed. She leaned on the dresser, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You're being more than just a bit delusional now, Morag."
"No. No, I don't think I am," Morag replied, shaking her head in disagreement. "You see, you and Seamus have your...thing. And we have ours. Granted, I'm quite sure he's only in love with the idea of me and what I could possibly give him - but not me in all actuality, because he's in love with you. But, then again, I'm quite in love with the idea of him, myself, so I think it all works out in that sense."
Dean gave no immediate reply, fairly sure that Morag was one marble short of an entire bag and proving it so in this moment with her refusal to just let it go. As if she knew what he was thinking, she tossed the rest of Parvati's things into the trunk and closed it, shrinking it to fit into her pocket.
She looked at him with a smile that was a bit too smug and Dean found that even before when he was jealous of her being with Seamus, living with him, being the one it looked like he was going to spend his life with, he'd never quite hated her as much as he did right now.
What was a bit scary about that was that Dean didn't know if he hated her because she was obviously doing this intentionally, or because there was a chance that she was right.
"You can't be serious."
"Deadly," she said immediately and then paused before continuing, "I'll put it this way, Dean. The day Seamus finally stops loving the idea of me and says, 'get the fuck out, we're over,' I will pack my things and leave. But as long as he lets me keep this ring -" she paused, holding up her left hand - "on my finger, I don't care how many times he screws up."
As he watched her leave, Dean still had it in him to feel oddly confident about the situation, and he decided that if that was the way she felt about it, things were about to get very interesting because he wasn't about to let things end the way they were.
In fact, he'd even go as far as to say he refused to.