Trust Language

Dear god, what have I sunken to? DeanSeamus slash and drabble. Because there simply isn't enough of it.

Rated PG13

Disclaimer: Do I sound like a multi-millionaire to you?

Trust Language

"This is why I will never trust you with a wand again," Dean said, breathless, his voice taut and strained as if it took effort to focus on anything but the sheer closeness of Seamus's face.

Seamus shrugged, grinning to himself, detached from the current situation.

"Damn you, how can you be absent-minded right now?" Dean cried, trying not to shout in the hollow spaces of the closet.

"I'm not," Seamus said.

"You're a damn liar."

"Such language." Seamus tsked, but in this terrible way that made Dean hold his breath for a second. The way he showed his teeth as he did this, clicking his tongue against the roof his mouth… that grin, so raw and complete it couldn't possibly be human.

Dean's voice was slightly muffled by the loud sounds of Seamus kissing the skin on his neck. "I can… ah… swear as much as I… damn well want to."

Seamus slid against him, just the faintest brush, and Dean shut his eyes for a second to breathe.

"How did this come about?" he wondered to himself. "How did I get like this?"

"I don't give a damn, so long as it lasts for now," Seamus replied, his voice faint as his kisses wandered down… down…

"And you were mad at me for swearing," Dean said, his chest heaving so hard he felt as if he would simply inflate and drift away. No matter how much he inhaled he could not get enough oxygen to his brain… the world spun pleasantly. He sighed.

Seamus was on his knees. "You still won't trust me with a wand?" he whispered.

"I don't trust you for anything, Seamus," Dean said. Meaningless words, things to try and distract him from the aching pleasure making his entire body burn and flush.

"Really?"

Dean gasped, involuntarily trying to jerk away.

"Did that hurt?"

Dean looked down at Seamus for a second, finding a rest on a shelf for his trembling hand. "More than you could imagine."

Seamus grinned again. "Good."

Dean moved with enough force to make the bottles on the shelves behind him rattle. He moaned quietly to himself. "Oh, dear god, Seamus!" he said.

And Seamus, his voice lazy, replied, "Damn."

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Author's Notes: No flaming. I have no idea what this is. I sort of wrote it off of the top of my head, inspired from a slash-fic marathon. Enjoy.