Hello, person reading this! Looks like I'm back! A third story… that makes it so I've submitted once per day, I think. (Even if might say otherwise, it's once per day where I live…) I'm going to briefly speak to my reviewers again before moving on. :3
Ruby- As you can see, I decided to call you by your name! I figured it's more personal and friendly. Hee. Let's see… I feel like I should review a couple of your stories that I really like. I would have reviewed them aaages ago if I wasn't shy. Haha. In the next couple of days, I'm gonna be sure to go write some reviews! And, thanks for your comments on my last story, I'm really glad you liked it. :3
Euclidian- Hello, again! First thing's first, I'm gonna say that your reviews are really good to read. Secondly, to answer some of your comments: I really didn't have too much of an idea with where I was going with DDD, haha. I don't think I was trying too hard to make a story past a humorous plot; writing the story took about twenty-thirty minutes, tops. It does occur to me that I should have put more thought into it and not concentrated on repeating one joke, though… But! Don't worry about it. I don't think I'm gonna be writing something like that again, and if I do, it won't be for a while; this next story is more serious, so I do think I'm just writing all sorts of genres to see where I fit in most comfortably. But again, I really do enjoy reading your comments, they help a lot!
Okay, next part…! Man, my intros take forever. Sorry guys! Maybe I should put my answering-reviews comments separately; does this take up too much space?
Disclaimer: Even if I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't make this story you're about to read be canon. ;-; It makes me feel guilty to make Dean cry.
Rating: PG!
Notes: This is a bit sadder than my last two stories, which were fluffy love followed by nonsensical crazies. So if you don't want to see a teary Dean, look away.
Summary: Dean's lonely, and it's all Seamus' fault. If he would just stop smiling at him, if he would just stop making his heart skip a bit, Dean would be okay…
OKAYFINALLY.
--
Dean wasn't ready for this.
Seamus' eyes were dancing. He was sitting across from Dean, grumbling about his homework, complaining about just how terrible that rude Snape is, always doing things like giving Seamus extra work just because he accidentally melts his desk. Honestly, it's not even Seamus' fault! Neville was sitting next to him, he could have stopped him.
Still, even though he was just moaning and groaning about work, Dean saw his eyes dancing.
They were just there. They were just… there. They weren't alive, they weren't capturing the light from the fireplace in a non-earthly beauty, they weren't. They were just there. And yet Dean was inexplicably drawn to them. Dean bit his lip. Now the eyes were looking directly at him. Ah, did Seamus say something…? Dean had zoned out.
"Deeaan?" Seamus questioned, lightly kicking his friend's leg under the table. Dean blinked, tuned back in, and nodded. "Ah, yeah, I agree."
Seamus frowned. "You agree?" He sighed, and Dean felt a pang of loss when his friend closed his eyes. "Dean, I'll ask again. Hopefully you'll listen to me this time!" Seamus pouted his lip, and Dean nodded with a quiet 'sorry'. "Do you know what the difference is between…"
For the next few hours of the evening, Seamus listed off a bunch of potions related questions, and Dean answered without breaking eye contact. He had already finished his homework; this is usually what happens. Dean would finish his work and for the rest of the night, he would just help his friend while complaining that he should stop trying to light things on fire if he didn't want homework as punishment. Tonight, it was different.
He was helping his friend. But he wasn't complaining. He was just watching Seamus with a dull stare. And he was sad. He didn't notice he was sad, though. Not until about four and a half hours into this, when Seamus had finished one of his many essays (that he had left for two weeks, starting it the night before it was due). That was when Dean realised he was sad.
Dean had been quiet, watching Seamus, feeling his heart begin to shift a little. It wasn't a big change, but it was the start of one. His thoughts began to focus on himself instead of how Seamus' hair caught the light, or how he had that smell of very, very faint patchouli. 'I'm quiet,' Dean thought to himself, 'So why hasn't he noticed? I'm not talkative, shouldn't he notice me…? Shouldn't he ask why I'm acting strangely?'
Why did he want to be noticed? This was Dean's next train of thought. 'Surely, it's just because I'm his best friend, and I want him to know things about me…' reasoned Dean. 'I'm not good with words,' he reminded himself, 'and Shay is my closest friend, so I want him to be able to figure out the things that I can't say.'
Dean gripped his robe, looking across the table at Seamus. It was around one in the morning, now. Everyone had gone to bed – most people had finished their homework, and the people that hadn't had given up and reasoned that a zero mark wouldn't be so bad. Seamus would have gone to bed hours ago if it wasn't for the fact that he knew Dean wouldn't let him.
The Irish boy grumbled at his transfiguration essay as if it had committed some deep, unforgivable personal sin to the entire Finnigan family. Dean told Seamus not to complain – mostly out of habit than actual irritation. He wasn't focused on Seamus anymore. He was looking around the common room, biting his cheek.
They were alone. From the top of the stairs disappearing behind a wall to the very tip of the entrance through the portrait hole, Seamus and Dean were the only people in the common room. Dean's throat closed up. He had been alone with Seamus often, why was it making his stomach hurt now?
Seamus stood and made his way over to the table closest to the fireplace – he had been eyeing it for hours, and now that nobody else was using it, he took his chance. Dean was beckoned over shortly; he nodded, clenching his jaw, and tripping dumbly over his feet as soon as he tried to walk, landing with a thud on the carpet.
"Dean, are you okay?" Seamus asked with a sing-song voice that made Dean's heart skip a beat. Dean looked up from the floor, irritated that Seamus hadn't even turned from his work. "Yeah, I am," he forced himself to say, finally moving to sit with his best friend.
Seamus looked up at Dean when he sat down, his smile brighter than the fire nearby. Dean's eye twitched, but Shay had gone back to his essay and didn't notice.
"… Seamus."
"Hmm?" The Irish boy looked up again, smiling widely.
"I think you should… have a break. We can talk without you casting death glances at the poor essay," Dean choked out.
"Oooh? Really? Sure. Any excuse for a break," he laughed, haphazardly throwing his quill on the table and resting against his armchair. "Wassup, my Deany boy?"
Dean paused, looking away, busying himself with adding a log to the fireplace.
"H…" Dean started. His voice went silent, and Seamus, again, didn't notice.
Shay yawned, stretching his limbs until Dean heard cracks, and then picked up his essay. "It's weird," Seamus muttered. "We're in a world of magic and wizardry and we see wonderful miracles every day while those cute little muggles go about their business. And yet, I complain about homework. Shouldn't I look forward to it?"
Dean arched an eyebrow. "Weird to see you using your brain."
Seamus yawned again, shrugged, and threw his essay in a random direction. Dean watched with disinterest as it landed in a pile of pillows on the ruby sofa.
"… H …" Dean tried to start again, his voice a little louder. Perhaps Seamus would notice him, and guess what he wanted to ask, so he wouldn't have to say it.
But again, Seamus paid no attention to his friend. He was busy looking at his finger nails.
Dean clenched his fists, holding his breath for no reason that he could understand. His lungs just seemed to stop as he reworded the question he wanted to scream as loud as he could.
"H… how d…"
Seamus actually did look up this time, and Dean bit his tongue when he realised he'd actually have to say it now. Seamus never let him say "nevermind" – he never, ever let people back out of saying something.
"… how do you deal when you get a crush?"
… Silence.
"Awww! Deany has a crush!" Seamus grinned at his friend, resisting the urge to jump over and cuddle him to death.
Dean scowled and shook his head. "I didn't say that…" he dismissed, and Seamus laughed. "I bet you do, though. Whose the lucky girl?"
The fact that Seamus instantly said "girl" sent a spike of self-hate and fear through Dean's spine. He hated himself for only a second – a brief thought, 'is it really that bad to not like a girl?' – but after that, he hated himself for hating himself. There was no need to feel like that. It wasn't important. Fear, though… for less than a second, his bones were cold, his eyes stung, and his heart stopped. He realised, finally, that he had feelings for his best friend. And that, honestly, was far more terrifying than his possible sexuality.
"Come on, tell me," Seamus bugged, "or I won't do my homework."
Dean shook his head. "Forget I said anything. I don't have a crush, I…"
"I bet you do!" repeated Shay, folding his arms. "Why else would you ask?"
Dean paused for a fraction of a moment before coming up with a story. "You always have crushes, don't you? You've had tons of girlfriends, everyone knows you're a flirt… and uh, the only person I really have close to me is you and my mum, so…"
Seamus nodded, apparently satisfied. "It's okay, Dean. You'll fall in love some day. And when you get married to a really hot girl, you can recommend me a single bride's maid."
"Mmm," Dean replied, Seamus getting back to his homework with a mutter of "gotta get it done eventually".
For a couple more hours, Seamus worked hard. He finally finished his transfiguration essay, and moved on to his last piece of work.
"Charms!" Seamus grinned. "This will be exciting. It's practical, too. Do you remember in first year, I blew up a feather when we tried to make it float?" He laughed. "It's five years later and I'd probably still mess up."
Dean smiled back, the first smile he had during the night. He realised he must have been having a serious face for a while; his mouth actually hurt when he changed expression.
Resting with his face in his hands, Dean watched Seamus for the next twenty minutes. It was nearing 3:30 now, but he would stay up with his friend as long as it took. Besides, he wanted to.
His eyes were still dancing, Dean noticed. They were actually sparkling this time. Seamus was intense with concentration, glaring at his wand, saying very nasty things to it in a hushed tone. Even when his poor wand was called a "twig ripped from the clog in Professor Snape's sewerage drain that should learn to cast charms already", his entire face seemed to glow.
Dean caught himself, suddenly. His eyes had moved from Shay's eyes to his nose (which he thought was really quite cute), his nose to his lips (which looked soft; he wondered if his owns were soft), his lips to his neck (he noticed how Seamus' skin was so white that it gave such a bright contrast to his black robes). Dean shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking like this… he shouldn't be thinking like this about his own best friend…
"I don't…" mumbled Dean, and Seamus stopped telling his wand to lose some weight to look up at his friend. "I don't… want…" he clung to his sleeves, closing his eyes and bending over.
Seamus tilted his head. "What's wrong?"
Dean ran his hands through his hair.
"Would you date someone, out of pity?"
The Irish boy paused at the question. "Eh?" he set down his quill, looking at his friend. "No way. Why would I do that?" Shay smiled. "Why take pity on someone, going out with them even if you don't like them? That's pretty unfair, considering they'd go to the trouble of asking you out and everything…" he scratched his cheek. "Wouldn't you feel bad if the person that you like dated you out of pity?"
Dean's jaw clenched and he looked down. If the person he liked did that…? Seamus nodded.
"See? It would be bad, right? You'd feel all sad and—"
"…happy…"
"…eh?" Seamus blinked.
"I… would be happy. Even if it were because of p… no. I … if it were the person I like… I would be happy if it were because of anything."
Seamus blinked again, laughing. "Oh, I get it! You're just lonely, right?" Seamus sat next to Dean. "I guess you have been a bit quiet tonight. Maybe you were thinking about this sort of thing? Don't worry." Seamus gave Dean the thumbs up. "If I were a girl, I would fall head over heels for you!"
Dean's eyebrow twitched, and he clung to his hair. "No, I…"
"C'mon! Don't worry. You'll find a girl!"
"I don't want…"
"Sure you do. Everyone wants a girl eventually!" Seamus smiled.
Dean felt a pang in his throat. It was hard to swallow, his insides were hot and wouldn't sit still. "… Seamus."
Shay sighed, nodded, and turned to look at the fireplace. "I won't push it, but… if you're troubled, you should at least tell me, you know. I'm your best friend, so I can help. We're friends, so that's what we're here for, right? Helping each other out!"
Something snapped in Dean. It could have been the term "best friend" that did it, or Seamus' attitude about being "just friends." In a swift motion, Dean had knocked over the coffee table, grabbed Seamus' wrist and pulled him to the floor.
"…?! Dean?!"
"Don't… say… that."
"Gwah?!" Shay stared from under Dean – his look of shock would be quite comical if it wasn't for the situation.
"I… please don't call me that." His grip on Seamus' wrist tightened. "Because… it… I wanted to call you my best friend… you know? Because it might mean, you'd notice me more, or… or because you're the 'best'… but I … I mean, I don't … I mean, you're… more… maybe…"
Dean clung to Seamus.
Seamus smiled.
"I'm not a girl, Dean…"
Dean felt his chest tighten. Was he being rejected before he could even properly say it?
"I know you're lonely for some affection, but I'm not a girl, you know? It's not something your best friend can give you!" Seamus kept smiling. "But don't worry, okay? You'll definitely find someone to love, and you two will stay together forever, skipping classes to go make out by the lake! You're good looking, and cute, and your personality is great too. Like I said! If I were a girl, I'd fall head over heels for you!"
…
"… Eh? D-Dean?"
Dean's face moved lower, coming within half an inch of Seamus'.
"… D…?"
Their lips met. He kept his eyes open during the kiss, as did Seamus. Shay's eyes weren't dancing, which hurt Dean enough to make him cry. A small drop of water landed on the Irish boy's cheek.
"See?"
He stood up, his friend still staring in shock. Did he just get kissed by his best friend...?! Scratch that, had Dean even HAD a first kiss? Did he just take his best friend's first kiss?!
"There's no way that I'll visit the lake, is there?!"
Despite the curfew laws, Dean couldn't be near Seamus for the rest of the night. Leaving the portrait hole ajar as he ran out, Seamus stared after him.
His face burning hot enough to melt the arctic, Seamus curled his knees closer to him, putting one hand on his lips and one hand where Dean's tear fell.
Certainly, neither of them were ready for this.
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Okay. I think this will be a two parter. If not, it'll stay like this and have an unfinished, bad ending. Hmm! I'll write the second part soon then. Is it interesting so far?! I've never written something like this, it feels quite weird. But yeah! I don't think I'm too happy with this story so far, and I feel I've definitely made some repetitiveness with vocabulary… let me know what you guys think, okay?! I'm also nervous that I didn't do angsty Dean very much justice...
And bleh... I really need to find myself a beta...