Genre: Romance, maybe a smile or two

Pairing: Dean/Seamus (slash, dahlings! So ye be warned!)

:Inserting Standard Disclaimer Issue #642 here:

Summary: Seamus innocently asks Dean if he's ticklish. Of course, with the answer that Dean provides, Seamus just can't help but prove him wrong. Things soon escalate out of control, but is that a good thing?

I'm feeling compelled to write another one, mostly because I don't want to let my loverly reviewers down, and the almost 800 hits is a little heady.

And, forgive me! The article is actually just shirts, but "jumper" sounds so much more better, don't you think? And I'm thinking of changing the subtitle of Article Two, (bras to undergarments or something prudish like that), but that might just be because of my "fragile sensitivities", so if you guys could tell me what you think about that, it's be welcome! Thanks!

Those Dratted Things They Call Uniforms;

Mandatory Article Number Three: Jumpers

Ridley Jack

"Hey, Dean, are you ticklish?" Seamus asked suddenly one quiet evening as they were settled in a corner of the common room.

Dean glanced up from his homework. "What?" he queried, distracted.

Seamus waited until he had Dean's full attention. With all the seriousness and solemnity he could muster, he repeated his question.

"Are you ticklish?"

Dean's manner turned evasive. "Er… no," he avoided looking Seamus in the eyes. "Why?" he asked dreading the answer.

Seamus asking you a question like that usually never led to anything good. Interesting results, but bad nonetheless. Only if you were on the recieving end, that is. To other people it was simply hilarious.

"No? You sure?" he questioned, a sly grin sneaking over his features. "You do realize, don't you, that with an answer like that, I'm practically obligated to prove you wrong?"

Dean resisted the urge to back away. "No. I mean, yes, I'm sure. Seamus, you stay over there! You're not obligated for anything!" he yelped as Seamus tackled him to the ground, his homework falling off to the side somewhere.

"No, Seamus, please!" he shrieked, roaring with laughter.

Seamus grinned, hands travelling over his sides.

They'd both disposed of their robes long ago and were only wearing their pants and shirts, which were un-tucked, and it Seamus' case, the sleeves rolled up, so it was relatively easy for Seamus to slip his hands inside Dean's shirt to better tickle the boy. At least, that's what he told himself.

His fingers trailed along his ribs and Dean's breath caught. "Seamus," he said tightly.

Seamus realized exactly what he was doing; he'd ceased tickling Dean, and instead his fingers were ghosting along Dean's lower torso, leaving what felt like, to the taller boy, a tingling, fiery trail behind. Seamus' almost-stubby fingers traced patterns on Dean's stomach before slowly sliding around to his sides and back.

Seamus watched with faint amazement the difference between his pale fingers and Dean's dark stomach, forgetting about everything else.

"Seamus," Dean repeated, strained. "Either kiss me, or go away."

Seamus' startled eyes met Dean's slightly smiling, slightly nervous ones. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, got his tongue to work, lacked the right amount of saliva to make words form, and closed it again.

Dean chuckled quietly, and Seamus privately thrilled at the sound. He loved it when Dean laughed like that. He was such a quiet boy, never talking much, but Seamus didn't mind. Especially when he laughed quietly like that, that laugh that he'd never heard from Dean when he was with anybody besides him.

"I figured you felt the same way as me when you stopped tickling me and started to caress me instead," he admitted, smiling shyly, unacknowledged hope shining in his eyes. "Were, too!" he admonished, before Seamus could deny that he was caressing anything, though he was still smiling. "And you still are," he pointed out, but made no move to stop him.

Seamus stilled his hand anyways, and watched anew the way Dean's dark skin poked out between his splayed fingers. When he didn't do anything besides stare at his hand, Dean growled under his breath and lurched forward to grab the back of Seamus' neck and pull their heads together.

"I told you to kiss me," he whispered before crashing their lips together.

The kiss was anything but chaste; Seamus was fondly referred to as the Gryffindor slut, and Dean was no inexperienced child, either.

Their tongues didn't battle, but explored. Their limbs didn't clutch and grasp, but roved and detoured. Eyes fluttered shut and grips relaxed, moving fleetingly through ruddy hair. One of Dean's arms came around to hug Seamus, or as close to hugging as two could get in their position; Seamus was sitting almost on top of Dean, but when Dean had sat up, he had correspondently brought his legs up as well, so they were an unwelcome obstruction between the two of them. Seamus' hands were still on Dean's front, but rather than pushing him away, they were pulling him closer, begging wordlessly for more.

It wasn't a very romantic kiss, and was a somewhat abrasive and rushed kiss, but neither boy would change it for the world.

Seamus slowly broke away. "Wait. Felt the same?" he finally asked.

Dean smirked, an expression he'd never before seen on the normally calm, happyface. He shrugged, not providing any answers.

"But I didn't even know you were gay…" Seamus complained.

"Does it matter?" Dean asked warily. "I like you. If that makes me gay, then…" he trailed off, shrugging philosophically.

"Works for me," Seamus chirped happily.

Dean laughed and moved his legs so they were more comfortable, gently pulling Seamus down.

Across the room, two of the five people left in the common room were talking quietly, heads close together.

"Well, that's it then. It's official," Ron declared, disgusted.

"Ron, it's not that bad," Hermione chided.

"It's horrible!" Ron objected. "I hate Potions! I hate Snape! I hate Malfoy!"

"What does Malfoy have to do with it?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

Ron shrugged. "He's in the same class."

'.' Fin '.'

Ha! I bet you thought I was going to do one of those oh-so-popular "Ron's a gambler so pay up" endings, weren't you? Actually, don't be too surprised if one of those shows up…

Anyways, I thought that I'd get another one out there, and with my favourite pairing, too! Maybe the next article will be pants, hm:suggestive smirk: (Urm… don't count on it, k?)