Love Is A Disease
Pairing: Seamus/Dean
Length: Oneshot
A/N: I love this pairing so much. Please read and review!
XxXxXxX
January 18 1995
Love is a sickness. It's a disease. I consider myself lucky that I have not grown ill from it. Love is like a little filthy bug that jumps from one person to another, biting them and rendering them helpless. It is a disease of the brain. Why else would there be the phrase 'Lover's are lunatics?' It's because they have a disease of the head. The disease of love. It starts out little, sometimes so little that you don't even know you have it. Then it grows and grows more each day till it's incurable.
The worst type of love disease is the kind where you don't even know you have it. The kind that springs up on you out of no where. That's the worst because you have no warning or time to get rid of it.
See, if you catch it soon enough, you can get rid of it. Which is why I will list the steps I must go through if I ever become ill with love.
Seamus sat on his secluded four-poster with the curtain closed, hoping for some alone time. It had been a year since he wrote this entrée. In a year a lot can happen. For one thing, you can fall in love with your best friend. Or you could find out your in love with your best friend.
Seamus sighed and looked at the steps critically. Would they work? Figuring there was only one way to find out, he consulted them.
The first one was done. He knew he was in love. The second one was also done. Now for the third; get rid of any pictures.
Nimble fingers gently grabbed the red and gold box. He pulled it opened and groaned. There were a lot of pictures. Setting his Journal aside, he searched through the box.
There were pictures of just Dean. Dean swimming, Dean smiling, Dean not even knowing he was getting his picture taken. There were also many pictures of Dean and Seamus together, courtesy of Colin Creevey.
Seamus smiled as his gaze found a picture taken in third year, at their first Hogsmead trip. Seamus had just tricked Dean into consuming an acid pop, which burnt a hole clean through his tongue.
Realizing that this was going to be harder then he thought, Seamus swiftly walked over to the trashcan and dumped all the box contents into it. Without a backward glance but a churning in his stomach, he left the dormitory.
XxXxXxX
Dean was sitting by the dormitory window, drawling the grounds. His quill scratched quietly across the parchment. Looking up at the sound of footsteps, he saw Seamus dump papers in the wastepaper bin. Dean kept quiet and Seamus walked out, never even knowing he was there.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Dean walked over to the bin and sat down next to it. His eyes widened when he saw they were not papers, but pictures of him and them together. What did Seamus mean by it?
Picking up the one where he was showing off the hole in his tongue and Seamus was doubled over next to him in laughter, Dean frowned. Was this Seamus' way of saying they weren't friends anymore?
His sketch book forgotten, Dean walked stubbornly down the stairs. He was going to find out what was going on.
XxXxXxX
Seamus walked into the Great Hall. The next step would probably prove to be the hardest. Stay away from Dean. Glancing up and down the Gryffindor table, he sat himself with a group of first years. Dean wouldn't follow him there.
Piling his plate up, he became aware of the stares around him. He smiled at the little kids. Next to him, they looked really tiny. Or maybe they just were small. Seamus didn't remember being that little in his first year.
As luck would have it, his hiding place was no good. Dean walked in, scored the table, and found him trying to duck behind the first years. Seamus cursed half-heartily about 'picking a better hiding place, like behind some seventh years' and Dean plopped down to his right.
"Hey Shay."
After a moment of silence Seamus figured he had to say something so he grumbled a greeting.
"So, I was wondering abo-" Dean started when Seamus cut in hurryingly.
"Well, nice talking to you! Got to go now. See you around." And he flew out of the Great Hall still hungry. Panting, his body fell to the floor and he leaned against the wall. Avoiding him was going to be hard. Deciding that step was a work in progress, Seamus moved on to step five; get a new hobby. Something that has nothing to do with Dean.
Thinking hard, he ran into Ron, who had just emerged from the lavatory door.
"Sorry." Seamus muttered and Ron nodded. He stopped in his tracks. He needed a hobby. Something time consuming. "Hey, wait!"
Ron turned around. "Huh?"
"I challenge you for a game of chess tonight."
Ron chuckled, "I played you yesterday and won. But sure."
Seamus walked the rest of the way to the common room, smiling. His new hobby was going to be beating Ron at chess. It was time consuming, considering he could probably play Ron a hundred times and never win.
XxXxXxX
From his perch on the squishy armchair at the fire place, Dean was becoming increasingly bored. Watching five games of chess between Ron and Seamus, in which Ron came out the victor in all, was boring.
Dozing off, he jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. Looking up he saw the round face of Neville.
"Want to play a game of Exploding Snap with Harry and me?"
Glancing at the chess game still going strong, he replied, "No. I think I'm turning in." Neville's face fell.
Grabbing the trash bin full of pictures, Dean dumped them in his trunk. If Seamus didn't want them, then he would take them.
His eyes caught a flash of green sitting on Seamus's bed. The curtain was partially open, so Dean crept over to it and picked the open notebook up. Reading the entrée that was face up, his eyebrows creased in confusion.
Before he was able to really think of what it meant, he heard someone approaching the room. Placing the book back, he dashed to his bed.
Seamus walked in and stopped at the sight of Dean. Instead of questioning him, as was planned, Dean muttered a 'G'night' and slipped into bed with his thoughts swirling around.
'Was Seamus in love with someone? That would explain why he had a year old entrée opened. And the steps made things clearer. The pictures being thrown out were one step. It would also be why he had been avoiding me all day. But did that mean Seamus was in love with me?' Dean thought.
Glancing around his bed curtain, he watched Seamus brush his hair. Not sure what he should do, Dean decided to take a leaf out of Seamus' book. If Dean was doing something stupid, Seamus would do everything to destroy it before it destroyed him. Dean smiled; Seamus' steps were about to fail.
XxXxXxX
The next morning Seamus got up early for a change and dressed as fast as possible. He practically flew down the stairs, only to run into a cheery Dean at the bottom of them.
"Hello Shay! Why, don't you look absolutely smashing today?" he gave the gaping Seamus a lopsided grin. Shaking his head a bit, Seamus sidestepped Dean and walked out to the Great Hall. To his displeasure Dean followed right behind him, silently staring.
All through breakfast they didn't talk. Seamus turned angrily to the still staring Dean.
"What?" he snapped.
Dean shook his head and smiled sheepishly, "Oh, nothing," he sighed.
In all the classes that day Dean had made sure he sat next to Seamus, which wasn't anything new, but seeing as the Irish boy was presently trying to avoid him…
In Charms that day Professor Flitwick pared them together to work. Seamus, who wasn't too good at Charms, couldn't get the wand movement down right.
"Here, let me show you," Dean said. Ignoring Seamus's protests he stepped behind him and placed his hand overtop of the smaller boy's. Their bodies flush together; Dean rested his head on Seamus's shoulder.
"You have to jab it up a bit harsher and rotate wider," Dean whispered into his ear while guiding his hand in the right movement.
Seamus blushed at their close proximity and the mental image 'jabbing it up and rotating' created.
"Perfect," Dean said once the spell was done right and he moved away.
By the time the day was over Seamus was seething about his ruined steps. Dean just wouldn't leave him alone. It was like the black boy knew he was trying to avoid him and was doing everything in his power to squash that notion.
Throughout the whole day Dean had followed him. Seamus didn't even have privacy in the lavatory. The part that drove him nuts was that Dean kept touching him. Whether it be when passing him something, brushing his arms against his, or placing his fingers on him when talking. The touching had felt so right to Seamus, yet he knew it had meant nothing to Dean. That, above all else, hurt the most.
"Look, stop following me!" Seamus shouted as Dean trailed after him into a lavatory again. "What do you want?"
Suddenly Dean looked nervous. He looked Seamus in the eye and stepped closer to him.
"I don't think love is a disease you should try getting rid of," he spoke with a waver in his voice. Dean broke eye contact and looked down to their hands. Seamus's own hand traveled the distance to Dean's. His fingers lightly traced over his wrist. Their fingers entwined and Seamus squeezed his hand.
"Then I won't."
Dean placed his lips upon the creamy skin of Seamus's forehead and they rested their foreheads together.
Seamus smiled warmly, "Love is the best disease ever."