Prize for Word Sprint Wednesday July 11th, 2018
Prompt: Open-Ended (Seamus/Dean)
Dedication: ashley1012414 (Ashley)
Word Count: (Per Google Docs) 500
Seamus hovered over Dean's shoulder as he worked on the concept art for a fireworks display. The pair were appointed by George Weasley to help with the relaunch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and with both their unique artistic abilities, they were perfect for the job.
Dean was handy with the quill and ink, whereas Seamus could construct the most intricate of explosives to light up the night sky. They often worked off each others ideas – Dean's sketches helped Seamus get a visual of what his formulas would look like before the prototype was made, and Dean would occasionally offer ideas for Seamus to create in turn. It worked well, if they managed to get any work done, that is.
It didn't help Dean's case when he sketched out designs while Seamus would approach with that devilish look in his eye. He'd brush a hand suggestively over his partner's shoulder and whisper in his ear. This always caused Dean's hand to slip, ruining the image in front of him.
"We have a job to do, mate!" Dean snapped at the Scotsman nuzzling his neck.
"It's boring watching you work," Seamus jabbed back, draping his arms over him as if wishing to hug him, or pull him onto the floor. "You move to slow."
Dean laughed. "I'd work faster if there weren't so many distractions. Then you could get on with your end."
"True."
This didn't stop Seamus' flirtatious antics, and Dean managed to overcome the alluring fog to stop his lover from forgetting their job. "If I did the things you did while you worked you'd have blown us up already."
"I can tell you right now that this is not what I was envisioning at all."
Dean rolled his eyes and quickly switched positions with Seamus. "Let's see you do better then, yeah?"
"Alright." Seamus picked up the quill and a fresh sheet of parchment. He quickly looked at the formula before sketching out the fireworks design.
Dean gently massaged his shoulders as he watched. He didn't hide how strange the design was turning out. "No offense, mate, but your drawing skills are frightful. I'm scared it will spontaneously combust like the cauldron did in third year."
Seamus snorted at the jab, about to drop the quill in defeat before Dean grasped his hand that held it. "Don't give up just yet."
Dean guided his hand as he drew. The gesture was intimate, but the two were focused on the task. Soon, the image appeared more refined with Dean's aid.
"There," he half-whispered in Seamus' ear, feeling the shiver snake down his spine. "That is how you draw without making it explode."
"You have such faith in me, love," Seamus leaned into Dean, admiring their handywork. "Maybe we should work together like this more often."
"We should if it gets the job done. It leaves us with more playtime," Dean teased, sliding his hands through the sandy-colored hair.
Seamus hummed in agreement. "I quite like the sound of that."