The next morning he is awoken by Seamus jumping on his bed like a child, yelling 'Happy birthday! Happy birthday!' loudly in his ear. He groans and slowly opens his eyes to see Shay's happy face peering at him closely, waiting for him to wake fully.
Bloody hell, is it already November 2nd? I'd totally forgotten.
'Ugh, Shay. Shh.' It's too early to be forming proper sentences. Dean rubs his eyes and yawns.
'Sorry,' Seamus whispers. 'You're 20 today! I didn't get you anything because I'm sort of broke but I thought we could go out for dinner at a nice fancy place, maybe ask Lav and Parvati to join us. It'll be like a sort of double date, except not really because none of us are together, ha. What do you think?'
'What time is it?' Dean's voice is rough from a bad night's sleep and Shay's quick whispering is already making him dizzy.
'8:30.'
'Then I think I should go back to sleep.' Dean nestles into his pillows and closes his eyes again, only for them to fly open once more when he feels Seamus crawling underneath the covers and pressing himself to his friend comfortably. Visions of the past assault his mind; suddenly it is like three years ago again, when everything was perfect and they were whole. They were completely happy then, and Dean wonders why Seamus has decided to cuddle up to him now. The past is over, right? Unless for Seamus, this isn't in his past at all, it is only in his present. Dean thinks his thoughts might not make sense at the moment and decides against saying anything to Seamus. He'll take this gift as it is and not ask questions; who knows when Shay will be like this again? So he puts his arm tightly around Seamus and breathes in his scent, eyes closing and lips curling contentedly in sleep.
'Good morning,' Dean hears a distant whisper. He shakes himself awake, realizing that Shay is here with him in his small bed. This revelation makes him so incredibly happy and gives him a pleasant, tingly warmth in his stomach.
'This is going to be a great birthday,' he says, mostly to himself. Seamus sits up and looks at Dean, cocking his head and flashing him his trademark Irish grin. His freckles are particularly pronounced this morning, and Dean's fingers itch to sketch him just like old times.
Seamus glances at the watch on his arm and murmurs 'A quarter after eleven.' Dean laughs as Shay jumps out of bed excitedly.
'Hey, we could go to an art gallery today if you want!' he exclaims, clearly more excited for Dean's birthday than Dean is himself.
'Why so hyper?' Dean asks, chuckling and sitting up.
'I don't know. I just feel great. Well, I have a little headache, but that's okay. Come on, get dressed!' Shay skips girlishly out of the room to his own (clad only in green boxer shorts, Dean notices appreciatively), presumably to follow his own instructions. Dean chortles; this child-like, excitable Seamus doesn't often make an appearance and Dean doesn't want to waste it. They've always balanced each other out perfectly—Dean the quiet, thoughtful artist and Shay the loud and flirtatious child. Dean has always loved Seamus for just this: his ability to lighten up anybody's mood by simply being. Everybody always loved him at school and he could always cheer up even the gloomiest of people.
He gets dressed quickly in a comfortable black turtleneck and relaxed jeans, walking out to their small kitchen to see Seamus already sitting with the Daily Prophet, a quill between his teeth and some cereal. Dean makes coffee for them; two sugars and one milk for himself and black for Shay ('I like my coffee how I like my men: strong and black,' he used to say with a wink). He sits down across from the Irishman, just smiling and taking in this beautiful sight, one he hasn't seen in so long.
'Reading the Prophet? I thought you'd given up on that shite,' he says. Seamus flips his page around, showing it to Dean: it's the crossword. Dean laughs.
'What's an eight letter word for 'Celestina Classic'? Ugh, I always hated her.'
Dean thinks.
'Uh, Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love? Cauldron?'
'Perfect!' Seamus scribbles furiously and then sets the paper down.
'We danced to that song at your cousin's wedding in Ireland when we were 16,' Dean says, grinning. Seamus looks at him oddly.
'Did we? Huh.' Dean's smile fades slightly as he gets up to put his coat on. Shay does the same.
'So what's the plan today?' Dean asks.
The day is wonderful. They visit a few of Dean's favourite art galleries, they eat a delicious lunch at a quaint little café and they walk through downtown London, joking and laughing all day long. If Dean closes his eyes he can just imagine that they are 17 again and completely carefree. If he ignores the lost looks Shay gets sometimes when Dean mentions a particular moment in their past, he can pretend everything is fine. It is the best birthday he's had in ages, really. Instead of going out with Parvati and Lavender for supper, they decide to stay in. They make pizza and watch awful cheesy muggle movies Shay picked out on their VHS player. Seamus is as talkative and excitable as he's ever been, and as usual Dean mostly just laughs and nods, but they don't mind, not one bit.
Dean loves it. It is as if they are a normal couple again, as if this isn't After and Now but Before. Every colour seems brighter in his happiness, every touch softer, every single laugh from Seamus is clearer and more beautiful. They sit on the small couch, not quite cuddling up but with arms touching and hands brushing teasingly and Dean feels like a giddy, hormonal teenager all over again.
Eventually Seamus falls asleep on Dean's shoulder, a grin on his face. Dean looks at the watch he'd gotten for his 17th birthday—it is two in the morning. He turns the telly off with a quick flick of his wand and carries the too light Seamus to his room. He brings him to his bed and lays him gently on the scarlet comforter, careful not to disturb him too much. Shay's eyes blink open sleepily and he smiles up at Dean's face, a real genuine smile that Dean thinks he could never get enough of. Seamus puts his hand on Dean's dark cheek, caressing it with his thumb while Dean tries to ignore the feeling that has ignited at the touch. This is too much for him; it is the cherry on top of a perfect day. Dean can barely stop himself from hungrily capturing Shay's pink lips with his own.
It turns out he doesn't have to stop himself. Seamus pulls Dean's head down tenderly and kisses him softly and sweetly. Dean had nearly forgotten how good it tastes and how wonderful it feels, but now he remembers and somehow, this is better than Before; the sensations are stronger and sharper. Maybe it's because of everything they've been through since Before, but right now it doesn't really matter because Shay is finally kissing him again and Godric knows how long he's waited for this like a good boy. It's been three years almost to the day, and Merlin this feels so good right now. They don't deepen the kiss, they leave it like it is: a promise for later.
'Happy birthday, Dean,' Seamus whispers against full lips, then pulls back to crawl under the covers of Dean's bed. He waits until Dean does the same to fall asleep, clinging to his side. For the second time today, Dean falls asleep with his Seamus, the real Seamus, and not the one who is shattered and hurt. For the second time today, Dean falls asleep truly happy.
