A/N: Shesh, that took a while. Sorry, I'm insanely lazy. : ) Anyway, thanks for all the lovely reviews. They make me smile. And without further ado, chapter three!

Chapter 3: Disagreement
Day two

The next morning Dean awoke with an excruciating head ache. He had gone to bed without speaking to Seamus at all because frankly, he didn't trust his mouth to say the right things. If he had thought he was mad yesterday it was nothing compared to now. He'd a whole night to get more upset and was now full to bursting with anger. He got up and quickly dressed.

"Dean!" Seamus yelled as he rushed out of the room. A groan was heard and then Dean was roughly pulled back to face Seamus. "Why you avoiding me?" his voice sounded hurt and angry at the same time. Dean couldn't take it. Seamus had no right to be angry. He, on the other hand, did.

"Getting a bit chummy with my brother, are you?" he growled.

Seamus released his grip and gaped at Dean; he was not expecting such hostility from him. "What?"

"You and Tim!"

"Oh."

"Yeah!" Dean yelled, "And why didn't you tell me you're gay? Huh? I'm supposed to be your best friend!"

Seamus gaped a little more but then his face started to get red in anger. "I don't have to tell you everything, Dean. You're not my keeper," he harshly bit out.

"You should tell me something important like that!"

"Why? So you can find me disgusting and leave?"

"No!" Dean turned around and huffed loudly. From behind him he could hear Seamus slowly counting to ten.

"One…two…three…"

"You can't date him," Dean said as he turned to face him once again.

"…Four…five…six…" Seamus's eyes were squeezed shut and it appeared that he wasn't listening.

"You can't."

"…Seven…eight…"

"Stop that bloody counting!"

Seamus' eyes flipped open and he glared at the boy in front of him. "Why can't I date him? It's my choice."

"No, it's not!"

"It is too my choice! You can't tell me who I can or can't date! It's not like we're dating!" Seamus stalked out of the room, leaving Dean heavily breathing in the bedroom.

Dean exhaled slowly and flopped onto the bed.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you two woke someone up all the way in Japan," Marlene stated from the doorway.

"Shut. Up," he said sounding defeated.

Once Seamus reached the stairs he flew down them into the living room. Searching around, his eyes fell on the closet. He quickly opened it, shoved the toy box for more room, sat down and shut the door. He was engulfed in darkness and he took comfort in the fact that he was all alone.

There was a giggle.

Seamus's heart flipped.

From the toy box came another giggle.

"Wah," he said unintelligently.

There was some bumping then the unmistakable sound of the lid being thrown off and hitting Seamus.

"Boo!"

Seamus tossed the lid off him and opened the door enough to see Sam standing in the box, giggling insanely. He sighed in relief.

"What are you doing?" he asked uninterestingly.

"Was wrong?" Sam said as he put a hand on each side of Seamus's face and looked him in the eye.

"Dean," he sighed.

Sam placed a sloppy, wet kiss on the older boy's nose then jumped up and down in joy yelling, "Dean, Sean, Chean, Fean, Lean, Bean!"

"Yeah, him." Seamus let his head hit the wall behind him.

"Bean wuv's you!" he whispered excitingly.

"If only it was that simple." Sam threw himself on Seamus' lap, making him give an "Opf!"

There was a long silence where Seamus patted Sam on the head. Why couldn't Dean be more like his little brother? It would be so much simpler, but no, Dean had to be confusing. Why did he care so much? Was it really because it's his brother or…

"I don't know what to do."

"Eat an apple."

"Erm, yeah."

Sam giggled and jumped up. "Talk to im!"

"No thanks."

"Forgit it!"

"I wish."

"Bean wuvs you!" Sam flung open the closet door and ran out into the toy clustered living room wailing "Bean and Saymus!" at the top of his lungs.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked and sat next to him on the bed.

"You heard." Dean sat up.

"Yes, but-"

Dean cut her off. "Tim can't just date my friend. It's unfair!" he huffed.

"Why? You want to date him?" Marlene cut right to the chase.

"Huh? Wh-What? No!" he spluttered. "Why would I want to? I don't like blokes."

She smiled. "Okay then."

"But he should ask my permission before he dates my friends."

"Yes, I guess he should run it by you first." She pulled out his notebook full of sketches and flipped through them. They were the ones he did last year at Hogwarts. She hadn't seen them yet.

"You guess? Of course he should!" Dean glared straight ahead of him at the desk, then at Seamus' airbed.

"It's icky out," she stated, looking out the window. The rain was pounding heavily on the window.

"Erm, yeah…Seamus should have run it by me too. See if I would let him date Tim," he grumbled on.

Marlene flipped the pages, looking at the pictures. They always amazed her. Not just because her brother was such a great artist, but because some of the pictures were of magic. She's not a jealous girl by nature but magic was one thing she was desperately jealous of. Tim had girls and boys by the flock lining up for him, Dean had art and magic, Angel had the skill of being the whiniest girl on earth, Sam was cute, and she, she didn't know what she had.

"I mean, that's what a good friend would do. Ask permission."

"Maybe you should talk to them about it."

Dean looked aghast. "No way!"

"Then how are they to know how you feel about it?"

"Oh, shut it." He slumped back onto the bed.

"Fine. I can see you're too fired up to think things logically, like why you care so much. I'm going down to get a snack. I don't know about you." Marlene got up and put the art book back. She walked out then briefly turned around. "You have a lot of drawings of Seamus." And she left.

"You have a lot of drawings of Seamus," he imitated in a high squeaky voice, then instantly felt guilty for being cross with his sister. She didn't do anything.

Dean got up and flipped the radio on loud. He laid down right in front of it, his head practically on it and sang with the song. Three songs later he grabbed his best drawing of Seamus and went in search of him to apologize.

He heard a voice that sounded like Seamus coming from the living room and he crouched down on the stairs to hear who he was talking to. The two voices were speaking too softly for Dean to make it out, so he peaked his head around the corner.

His stomach gave a nasty leap and he bubbled with renewed anger. Tim was sitting on the floor against the couch with Seamus between his legs, leaning his head on the older boy's chest.

Dean sneered unpleasantly and promptly turned to the kitchen in a huff when Tim ran his fingers through Seamus' mop of sandy hair. He had a sudden image of himself in that situation. Of him being the one to run his hand through the Irishman's hair.

Grumbling, he shook the image out of his head and found it replaced with the scene he had just witnessed. Knuckles white, he tore his drawling of Seamus in half and let it fall to the floor. One eye stared up dejectedly at him until he kicked it.

"Want some juice?" Marlene asked once Dean sank into the wooden chair across from her. Without waiting for his answer she poured him a glass and slid it toward him. He finished it in one gulp.

She scrutinized him and he shifted his feet uncomfortably. "What's wrong? Did you see them?" He just looked blankly at her so she took it as affirmative. "I think you need to work out your-"

Seamus and Tim strolled in laughing but quieted quite suddenly. Seamus stared at Dean. Dean seemed mesmerized by a spot above Seamus's right shoulder. Tim determinedly looked anywhere but at Dean. Marlene, on the other hand, snorted into her grape juice, causing it to fly up her nose. In all her choking glory the two wizards looked at her, while Tim patted Seamus' shoulder and fled from the room.

After Marlene was able to control herself she placed a filled cup in front of the seat next to Dean. Seamus grabbed the cup but moved to the other side of the table, next to her.

A long silence ensued, finally punctured by Tim walking back in and ushering silently to Marlene, who completely ignored him.

Getting impatient he whispered hurryingly, "Marlene!"

Sighing, she got up and walked out of the room. Once Seamus and Dean were done staring at the spot they lost sight of Marlene at they looked at each other.

Dean looked down and started fiddling with the flower-print placemat. Seamus kept staring. He looked rather cute sourly picking at the placemat and Seamus found himself longing again. He compensated himself with the thought that Dean's older brother resembled him a bit.

A thread about the size of Dean's pointer finger had accumulated by the time Marlene came back. Sitting down with a wide smile gracing her lips she refused the boys antics to get her to tell.

"Please, please, please tell me! I'll do anything!" Seamus whined while Dean tried to hide his amusement.

Her face scrunched up in mock thought. "Fine. But you must do something first," she smiled.

"What?" Dean wished with all his heart that it would be embarrassing.

"…Hmm. Ah ha! Kiss and make up."

"Huh?"

"You and Dean. Kiss. Not be mad at each other…Kiss," Marlene explained.

That was not the kind of embarrassment Dean had had in mind. Before Seamus could respond he was out of the room and up the stairs. The torn drawling fluttering in his wake.

Hazel eyes followed him out of sight till they caught sight of the fluttering papers. He walked over, picked them up, and placed them together. In search of tape, he went off.

Marlene sighed; they just had to make things harder for her.

Late that evening the rain let up but the mushy ground and humid weather kept the occupants of 14 Squall Drive inside. The second smallest bedroom found Seamus grumbling over his potions essay and Dean sketching a potted plant on the windowsill.

While sitting next to each other, squashed for room at the desk, they spoke not a word to each other. Several tedious minutes later a loud commotion reached their ears. Seamus looked up, thinking a frying pot fell, but Dean was already flying down the stairs.

"What happened?" Dean asked once they raced into the kitchen.

Mrs. Thomas stuffed a letter down her blouse but the boys had seen it anyway.

"What's th-" She cut him off.

"Nothing! I dropped a candle is all." She gestured to the broken glass and purple wax scattered on the tiled floor.

"What did you stuff-" Yet again she cut Dean off.

"Wow! Would you look at the time," she said without even glancing at the clock. "I do believe it's time for you to go to bed." And with that she shushed off the protesting boys.

Ten minutes later they both were in their respectable beds. Dean was under his ink-stained sheets, grumbling about going to bed at eight o'clock and Seamus was on the air mattress.

"Lights out!" Mrs. Thomas called from the hallway.

Grudgingly, Dean flipped the switch and they were encased in darkness.

"Hey Dean," he tentatively called out. After no answer he continued on. "I found the picture."

Dean was instantly filled with guilt.

"Look, sorry."

"Me too."

"Still friends?"

"What would make you think otherwise?" Dean could hear the smile in Seamus's voice and he smiled too.

"So, what do you think is going on with your mom?"