Written for slashprompts on livejournal. Short, but not so sweet.
He could feel Seamus's breath upon his cheek. His eyes were closed, lashes concentrated on kissing the tender flesh below his eyes, and his chest shuddered at the rate he was sipping air through slightly parted lips. He allowed himself to look through his dark overlapping lashes. Seamus was hovering above him. The green eyes upon Seamus's freckled face were fixated upon his lips. He froze momentarily and decided to remedy the situation by turning onto his side, his back towards Seamus.
His eyes clenched shut harder now that Seamus could no longer see him, and he tried to smooth out the tense feeling in his back. Part of him wanted to wake up and see how Seamus would react, but another wanted to wait and see what Seamus would do. Every night for the past week had been spent this way. Seamus would pull the bed curtains about his bed and hide in the darkness until he, and the rest of the boys, had gone to sleep. Then Seamus would creep silently over to his sleeping form and gaze at him.
He was surprised that Seamus had gotten so close tonight. Seamus had never done so before.
As he digressed into his thoughts, he jumped slightly under a hand on his side. Seamus withdrew his hand as if it had been burned, and he knew that Seamus's eyes were wide and frightened. He did not make another move. Seamus sighed, nearly audibly, and he could feel Seamus's presence slipping away as Seamus went back to hiding behind his bed curtains.
He had fallen asleep the next night. He had been hell bent on staying awake (as he had done for the past week), but while he was waiting for the others to go to bed, the chorusing of grunts and snores lulling him to a dreamland where Neville waited for him with a smile upon his face. He blamed the exhausting on a particularly nasty bout of homework.
Neville was waiting for him to creep to Neville's beside, as was their tradition now. He would survey Neville under the light of the moon dimly shining onto Neville's bed through the half-shuttered windows, while Neville would pretend that he was not there. When he did not come, Neville woke up.
A slightly confused expression on his face, Neville got up out of the creaking bed and ignored the sleeping forms of the other boys. Before Neville knew what he was doing, an almost foreign hand found itself pulling apart the satin curtains, forcing the lower half of Neville's body to sit on the bed, and stroking his face gently with the tips of Neville's fingers. Neville found that the hand was attached to an arm that led to a chest that lead to a head that looked very much like Neville's own. Neville also found that the hand continued to stroke his face despite this new knowledge.
He murmured and tossed beneath Neville's touch. Instead of running away, as he had done the night before, Neville stayed there and tentatively pressed the lips attached to the head that looking desperately like Neville's own to the side of his head.
Neville then left him for his dream and went back to Neville's own dreams.
Seamus and Neville continued to play this game with one another, until one night, when Neville found that Seamus no longer came to his bedside, but instead stopped at Dean's.