In Some Other Existence
Anonymous: Hey there, I hope this is not bother but I have had this story idea for –it's a deamus, set the same night the war ended. Now both Dean and Seamus both considered themselves straight and never "consciously" ever thought they were attracted to each other but after everything thing that happened that day they both end up in the boys bathroom, and they discuss the different trails they had to face that year/how they much they missed each other etc and somehow they end up kissing. there is a lot hesitation and uncertainty but they can't seem to stop as undiscovered feelings of love and desire suddenly surfacewhich cumulates to a slow, slightly awkward but very passionate Dean making love to Seamus against the bathroom wall (face to face Seamus legs on either side, possible wrapped round deans waist) and to both of their own amazement they find incredible with Seamus not being able to keep his voice quiet I hope it doesn't creep you out *embarrassed* Thanks!
Originally posted Aug 16, 2015, on tumblr
10: Come What May
Dean and Seamus found themselves in the second floor boys' bathroom, away from the suffocating crowds down in the Great Hall. As soon as it was over - as soon as Voldemort's body hit the floor with a thud none of them would ever forget - the swarms of people had gotten to be too much. They needed to get away from the grievers and celebrators, away from the hundreds of people crying for hundreds of different reasons.
And so they had retreated upstairs, over and around the wreckage of the castle, and ended up in a bathroom with the excuse that they were going to try to clean themselves up. Instead, they were just standing in front of the sink basins, with inches between them that felt like miles as they stared at the ground.
Seamus could suddenly feel all that was there between them, everything that had gone unsaid for a whole year. They'd never been separated for that long before, never gone through anything that tough before without each other to lean on. He didn't even know where to begin.
The year away weighed heavily on Dean. He could see the effect that the past year'd had on Seamus; scars lined his face and arms, and there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. It made Dean wonder if Seamus could see the past year on his face as well. Seeing Seamus when he came into the Room of Requirement - being reunited with him - it felt like something out of a dream, mostly because he had dreamed of that moment so often. But now the dream was over and it was time to face reality.
Seamus set his hands on either side of the basin in front of him and sighed heavily, then looked over at Dean. He opened his mouth to say something, but came up short. He'd always been the talkative one, but now, when words seemed most important, he had none to offer.
"Were you lonely?" Dean asked, surprising him. "While I was gone?"
"No, not exactly," Seamus replied. "Nev and I banded together, watching over the younger students. Was good to have him around, but I missed ye every day, Dean. Took to sleepin' in yer bed cause it still smelled a bit like ye." He looked down, embarrassed, and Dean smiled. "Faded after a week, but it still felt nice. Like I was close to ye somehow."
"I'm sorry I couldn't write, couldn't say goodbye," Dean said hurriedly, feeling the guilt in his chest like a sore. "There was no time, once the Ministry - and I didn't want you in danger - but - "
Seamus waved a hand. "I'm glad you didn't. It was torture, mind ye, but any letter could've been traced, and we might not be standin' here now if ye had."
Dean nodded. That was probably true, but he still felt terrible for just disappearing and leaving his best friend in the dark.
"Were ye lonely?" Seamus asked.
"For a while," Dean replied. "Had no idea what to do or where to go, and I'm not great at Apparition. I kept to forests for a while, then I met up with - " He stopped, remembering Ted Tonks and his dead, glassy eyes.
Seamus' hands slipped off the basin and he stepped closer to Dean. "I remember listening to Potterwatch, hearing about the group ye were with," he murmured.
"They had families, wives, kids. Ted's daughter married Lupin earlier this year, you know. They're dead now too, I saw them in the Hall," Dean said shakily, remembering the shock of seeing the body of his favorite professor on the cold stone floor. "They should've - I should've - " he said shakily, tears rising in his eyes.
"Don't ye dare say that ye should've died instead!" Seamus said hotly, gripping the sleeve of Dean's sweater. "Don't! Ye have a family too, or did ye forget? Yer sisters, yer mum, yer dad?! Me?!"
Dean stared at Seamus in shock. Seamus' face was twisted up with anger and misery at the thought of Dean dying in Ted and Dirk's places.
"People die in wars, Dean, and we can't help it! There's no rhyme or reason, but ye can't start wishing ye'd died instead of others cause it'll jus' tear ye apart," Seamus said fiercely. "I'm glad ye're alive. I feel terribly for their families, for everyone, but I'm happy that I still have ye, I'd give anything to - if ye weren't - "
Seamus choked on his words and the tears that had been waiting on the brim finally started to fall. He groaned and threw himself into Dean, burying his face in Dean's chest and wrapping his arms tightly around him. It was only when he hugged Seamus back and leaned his cheek on Seamus' head that Dean realized he was crying too.
"Most days," Seamus mumbled, voice muffled, "the only thing that kept me going was thinkin' of ye alive, of ye comin' back."
Dean swallowed and curled his fingers around Seamus' shoulder and waist. "I promised myself I'd get back to you, that I'd see you again. I couldn't break that promise."
They held each other for several moments longer, then slowly pulled apart to look at each other. Seamus saw the gauntness in Dean's face, the tired lines around his eyes. He knew there was more that Dean hadn't told him yet, just like he hadn't told Dean everything. He wondered if they would ever know everything that had happened in that missing year, or if some things were better left in the past.
Dean stared down at Seamus and felt something warm spreading throughout his chest, and he felt like he would suffocate with the immensity of it. All that he knew or cared about in that moment was Seamus: Seamus in his arms and under his hands and next to him. And then he found himself leaning forward and pressing their mouths together gently.
It should've felt weird, he thought, kissing his - male - best friend, but all Dean felt was a fluttering in his chest and an overwhelming sense of rightness. And then he felt Seamus' mouth moving slowly against his.
They'd kissed once before, three years ago at the Quidditch World Cup. After Ireland had been announced as the winners, Dean and Seamus went crazy with excitement and kissed each other wildly. It lasted maybe thirty seconds, and they were a bit shocked after it, but nobody around seemed to notice so they just moved on. They both internally blamed over excitement, adrenaline, and the bit of firewhiskey Mrs. Finnigan had given them, and thus never talked about it.
They pulled away moments later and stared at each other. Seamus' cheeks were flushed and his heart felt like it was about to explode in his chest, and for some unknown reason all he wanted was Dean's lips against his again. Dean seemed to read his mind, because the next moment they were kissing again.
Seamus moved his hands up to wrap around Dean's neck in hopes of getting closer to Dean. This was like nothing he'd ever experienced. He and Lavender had kissed once at the Yule Ball, but that had been stiff and unsatisfactory, and the two of them had amicably decided to separate for the rest of the evening.
But kissing Dean? This was a sensation unlike anything he'd ever had in his life. His heart was pounding in his throat as he kissed Dean more fervently, feeling a hunger erupt in the pit of his stomach. He thought of the past year without Dean - without Dean's drawings and quiet presence and soft smiles - and felt his heart ache with heavy emotion. And for the first time he wondered if he cared about his best friend more than what was normal.
Dean wrapped one arm firmly around Seamus' waist, pressing them closer together, and brought one hand up to the back of his head, working his fingers through Seamus' scruffy hair. He dared to lick at Seamus' lips, and was pleased when Seamus opened his mouth to him. Kissing had never been like this with Ginny. There'd never been so much emotion, so much…well, love.
They explored each other, fingers digging in to skin with their desperation, until they broke apart a moment later. Dean saw so many emotions bubbling up in Seamus' eyes, and Dean suspected Seamus saw the same in his. He was about to open his mouth, to voice what he'd been thinking, when Seamus moved his hands from Dean's neck and trailed them down his chest to rest on his hips.
"Don't stop," Seamus breathed, looking wantonly up at him.
Well. Dean wasn't going to say no to that.
He crushed Seamus' mouth against his and they took a couple stumbling steps backwards until Seamus' back found the wall. All questioning hesitancy was now lost as they nipped and sucked and licked at each other's lips. Dean broke away to kiss down Seamus' neck and Seamus gasped out words in Gaelic, fingers grasping at Dean's sweater.
After a minute of lavishing attention on the spot to the right of the nape of Seamus' neck, the Irishman was now tearing wildly at Dean's sweater, so he ripped it up over his head and deposited it on the floor at his feet. But Seamus wasn't done: he pushed up Dean's tattered shirt and mouthed slowly across Dean's stomach and chest, his tongue mapping out the angles and planes of Dean's torso.
Dean, impatient, pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and cradled Seamus' face with his hands, bringing their lips back together. Seamus' palms traveled over Dean's back as he rolled his body against Dean's, and for a second he thought about the implications of what they were doing, and he wondered what the aftermath would be. But at that thought, little panicky pains started flaring up in him, so he decided not to think about it. In fact, he decided not to think at all, which was quite easy to do with how Dean's mouth made his brain go fuzzy.
Dean realized that his pants were quite strained now as he unbuttoned Seamus' shirt. But as he stepped forward and put a leg between Seamus', kissing a few freckles on Seamus' shoulder, he realized that Seamus had an erection as well. He pulled back, mind muddled, and wondered how they should proceed from there. He didn't want to stop - he wanted to go further - but he didn't know what Seamus wanted.
He felt Seamus' fingers dancing at the hem of his jeans and looked into his best friend's questioning eyes.
Seamus swallowed. "C-Can I?" he mumbled, cheeks red.
Dean nodded dumbly and watched as Seamus fumbled with the button and zipper, awkwardly pushing the jeans away from Dean's hips and letting them fall. Seamus paused, and Dean wondered if this was all about to self-destruct, when Seamus gripped his shoulders and pulled him in for another kiss. As their tongues slid together, Dean felt one of Seamus' hands move from his shoulder and then the hand was slipping into Dean's boxers and -
"Godric," Dean moaned, breaking away from Seamus to rest his head on Seamus' shoulder.
Seamus pulled experimentally on Dean's dick and Dean winced a bit, then Seamus spit on his hand and went back, and it felt much better. Dean kissed Seamus' neck as Seamus experimented with his movements: faster, slower, twisting, pulling. Dean whined into Seamus' neck, and then felt very exposed when he realized he was standing in his underwear while Seamus still had his pants and shirt on (although the shirt was half falling off).
Dean put his hands on Seamus' hips, about to ask, when Seamus cut him off with a strangled, "Please." He paused, looking into Seamus' eyes to be sure, and found himself amazed at the love and desire in his best friend's expression.
Without waiting a moment longer, Dean pulled off Seamus' belt and undid his pants, shoving them down to his knees. Seamus had slowed his own hand in anticipation, but Dean didn't notice. Heart hammering, Dean licked his hand, pushed Seamus' boxers away, and took Seamus into his hand.
Seamus breathed out something in Gaelic, and his hips stuttered as Dean worked him over. This felt so good, so good, so good. He couldn't imagine why they'd never done this before, but of course he knew the answer. Dean lifted his hand to his mouth get it wet again, but Seamus grabbed it with his free hand. Surprising himself, Seamus maintained eye contact with Dean as he licked across Dean's palm and sucked on the tips of a couple fingers. He grinned at the moan Dean let out and let his hand go.
Dean stared hotly at him, then captured his mouth as his hand wrapped around Seamus' erection again. They moaned into each other's mouths, hands gripping and pulling feverishly. Seamus' free hand was now scratching across Dean's shoulders, and Dean's hand was cupped around the back of Seamus' head.
Suddenly Dean felt dissatisfied - not that this wasn't incredibly and mind-blowing - but he wanted more. He considered dropping to his knees, but he wasn't sure either of them could handle that at the moment, but he thought of something else.
"Can I try something?" he asked.
Seamus nodded, stopping his hand and leaning back against the wall, looking the very picture of sin with his shirt slipping off his shoulders, his kiss-marked skin, and his darkened seductive eyes.
Dean kicked a foot free of his jeans and pushed Seamus' pants down around his ankles, then stepped forward, slotting one leg between Seamus'. Then he rolled his hips and their erections bumped together and they both let out loud moans of pleasure. Dean reached down to hold them in one hand and began rocking his hips back and forth.
Seamus' head was spinning as he babbled nonsense in Gaelic. The thought crossed his mind that he should be quiet, but the second floor was so destroyed that he couldn't imagine anyone coming up here. His hips jerked wildly, out of his control, and he dug his fingers into Dean's shoulders. He tried to lift a leg to hitch it over Dean's hips, but his feet were stuck in his jeans. He tried again but couldn't and so he started laughing.
Dean stopped rocking, suddenly self-conscious. "What?" he asked. "Why're you - "
"It's not ye," Seamus said, sniggering. "It's me foot, it's stuck."
Dean looked down and saw Seamus helplessly raising his foot. He rolled his eyes and kissed the stupid grin on Seamus' face, then reached down and freed Seamus' feet from the offending pants.
"Better?" he asked.
Seamus grinned. "Much," he said, twining his arms around Dean's neck and lifting one leg up so it rested against Dean. Dean grinned and used one hand to hold Seamus' leg up, fingers pressing against his thigh, and went back to rolling their hips against each other.
They began kissing again, and Seamus felt like he'd never been so happy in his life. All these emotions came bubbling up inside him, emotions he hadn't known he'd been suppressing, and he realized that he'd been wanting this for so long now.
Dean sucked on Seamus' lower lip, then wrapped one arm around Seamus' waist and hoisted him up, forcing Seamus to wrap his legs around Dean. Seamus gripped at Dean's shoulders as he braced his back against the wall. Their hips were rolling in tandem now, each movement bringing waves of pleasure. Once he felt steady enough, Seamus reached down and wrapped a hand around their dicks.
The air was heady around them and they were both seeing stars. Dean placed frantic kisses along Seamus' neck and face and Seamus scratched his fingers along Dean's scalp. Dean moaned loudly, and then his orgasm swept over him, Seamus following suit a few seconds later. Their hips stuttered together as the stars cleared from their minds, and Dean gently set Seamus back on the ground.
They stood there, panting against each other's shoulders, for several long moments before they decided they needed to clean up. It was silent but not awkward as they cleaned up their bodies and put their clothes back on.
"Well," Seamus said after a bit, "that was unexpected."
Dean chuckled. "In a way. But I also think it's been a long time coming, yeah?"
Seamus' eyes softened and he nodded.
There was a pause, and Dean wanted nothing more than to step up and take Seamus' hand, but he wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do.
"So where do we go from here?" Seamus asked. "What'd that mean to ye? Cause I know what it meant to me, and I've never experienced…that was so…I don't - "
Dean crossed the distance with a single stride and put his hand on the side of Seamus' face, kissing him slowly and tenderly. He tried to pour all his emotions into that kiss, because he'd never been all that good with words. That was why he preferred art; a picture's worth a thousand words after all. But as their mouths slid apart, he knew he still had to say something.
"That, just now, that meant the world to me," Dean told him, voice low and sincere. "You mean the world to me. And, if you'd like, I'd like to explore this further. All I know is I…I can't be without you, Shay. Not again." He whispered the last words, and they sounded like a promise.
"Can't be without ye either," Seamus mumbled, closing his eyes and curling his fingers into the front of Dean's sweater.
Dean smiled and pressed his lips to his friend's forehead.
"As for where do we go, I imagine we should probably get back to the Great Hall," he said. "Can't hide up here forever."
"We could try," Seamus said stubbornly, but he smiled.
So they decided to walk downstairs hand in hand, come what may, and face the broken world together.