Seamus gave a polite thank you as he passed the Fat Lady and entered the Gryffindor common room. He gave a glance around the room trying to locate Dean, both having planned to do their Charms essay that was due tomorrow .
They were all back for their eighth year of schooling, with most having made the decision to repeat their seventh year to get the true curriculum .
He narrowed his eyes when he could not spot Dean, instead making his way to where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sat by the roaring fire . Hermione was reading through Harry and Ron's essays, offering corrections as she went.
"Any of you seen Dean?" Seamus asked. "We're supposed to be doing the essay for Charms."
Hermione looked up indignantly . "That's due tomorrow Seamus," she chided. "Why are you just starting it now?"
"Coz it's due tomorrow." Seamus shrugged. "Look, sooner ye tell me, sooner we can start it."
The bushy haired girl hmphed. "Fine. He went in the shower less than five minutes ago," she answered before returning to her friends' essays.
Seamus nodded, and gave his thanks as he headed into boys' dorm room. He perched on his bed, internally debating waiting for Dean before he grabbed his showering supplies and walked into the bathroom area .
The sound of running water came from the far side of the room, the smell of Dean's coconut shampoo and his apple shower gel filled the room, hanging in the air like a tropical breeze .
He walked into the stall next to Dean's and listened to the neighbouring stall.
Seamus was known as many things; pyromaniac, loud, the Irish one. But he was also perceptive, able to use common sense to find a conclusion.
He knew that Dean was stood stationary in his stall, a steady stream of water hitting a still object that Seamus just knew was Dean .
Seamus thought about this as he shrugged of his robes, pulling off his top and throwing them in a heap on the storage area of the shower stall . He wondered why his best friend was stood unmoving in the shower rather than in the common room as they agreed.
He removed his trousers and briefs, placing them on the pile of clothes before starting the shower running . Suddenly , Seamus couldn't help but picture his friend in the shower less than three feet away, painfully aware they were both completely naked . "Dean, you ok in there?"
Dean let out a strangled cry and a silence momentarily followed. "F-fine, I'm g-good Shay," he stuttered a response.
Seamus knew from his reply that he was not telling the truth, his voice was too high pitch and shaky. Then Seamus understood, his face flushing a deep red as it heated up hotter than the shower water. "Are you..." Seamus paused. "Am... am I interrupting something?" he asked nervously .
The silence returned. "Uh, yeah... Thought I'd have some 'alone time' while I was ... alone," he trailed off, leaving the running water as the only source of sound.
Seamus face continued to burn red. Dean was naked . Masturbating. Three feet from him. "Ok. Ok. You do what you want to do," he said, desperately hoping he sounded more casual than he felt.
The flushed Irish stepped into the heated water, the water hot on his body, yet cool on his blushing face. He began to lather his hands with shower gel, lemon scented, and rubbed it on his chest, feeling more naked than he ever had before .
He didn't understand it. They were guys. Guys masturbated. And yet, this was different. Even through the flow of water and the stall wall, Seamus was painfully aware of Dean's laboured breaths as he returned to his activity .
Seamus couldn't help but let his imagination visualise it. Dean under the running water, face scrunched in concentration and ecstasy, his right hand stroking his thick cock, his left hand balancing himself on the stall wall .
He tried to ignore the feeling in his gut, trying to shower as naturally as he could while his best friend wanked near him .
Dean's muffled moan caught his attention, and Seamus' blood rushed from his face, lower and lower, settling in his groin .
Seamus wanted to ignore that his dick was rapidly hardening, the moans and breaths of his best friend fuelling his hardness . But right now, he didn't care. He wanted, needed, to cum.
His hand found his dick, gripped it hard, and stroked, aware that Dean could likely hear him as his breath hitched and his skin met skin .
Dean let out a moan, loud and guttural, adding desire to Seamus' needs and speed to his hand. Dean moaned again, louder and longer, and with that Seamus was done , both men cuming together.
They both stood in silence, neither wishing to continue showering. Seamus heard Dean's stall door open and him step out. Seamus wanted to know what it meant. If Dean was picturing and imagining Seamus, as much as Seamus was thinking of Dean. Maybe Dean was thinking of Ginny, Seamus theorised, or any other girl at the school. Just because he carried on, didn't mean anything.
It was just guys being guys, and guys had needs. Simple as that.
Seamus wrapped a towel around his lower half and picked up his clothes, exited his stall, and faced Dean. Both were blushing intently as they eyed the other.
"So..." Dean said nervously , his voice trailing off. "That just happened."
Seamus nodded. "C'mon. We got an essay to do," he reminded casually .
If they didn't acknowledge it, they didn't have to acknowledge their feelings.