Written for PiƱata Club (Hogwarts) and the 100 Quotes of Life Challenge (1. "I'm so proud of you.")

Warnings: Slash (Dean/Seamus) and language.


my heart's a little unsure

Seamus lay in his bed, hands clenched into fists at his side. He couldn't stop thinking about what he had just overheard. Harry wanted Dean to replace Katie on the Quidditch team. Not him - Dean. His - well, whatever the other boy was. It was almost alarming how jealous he felt, how much the envy was burning him up inside.

Seamus heard a soft knock on the dormitory door. Neville, probably, come to pick up something he had forgotten that morning. The poor sod was always forgetting something.

"You can come in, Neville!" he called.

"Er, it's not Neville."

Seamus sat up quickly and stared at Dean, who was loitering in the doorway, through narrowed eyes. He didn't want to deal with Dean right now, and the sooner the other boy left him alone, the better.

"What do you want, Thomas?"

Dean seemed to take this question as approval to come in and did so, hands in his pockets, his eyes looking everywhere but at Seamus.

Seamus felt his impatience grow.

"Well?" he bit out.

Dean's chocolate-brown eyes locked onto his, and Seamus felt his fists loosen in spite of himself.

"Listen, mate," Dean began tentatively. Seamus snorted.

"I'd say we're a lot more than mates, and I don't really care that Harry asked you to play in the next match," he retorted, folding his arms.

"Your tone would beg to differ," Dean replied lightly, but his eyes were pleading with Seamus to not be upset with him. "Come on, Seamus, Harry's just-"

"If you say anything other than 'a rotten Captain,' you'll be sleeping in your own bed tonight," Seamus snapped. If Dean was going to take Harry's side, he obviously didn't give a damn about Seamus at all.

Dean rocked back on his heels, looking miserable. "I'm sorry, Seamus." He bit his lip and tugged on a strand of coarse, dark hair. "I wish it had been you."

"Yeah, well, so do I," was Seamus' bitter reply.

He watched as Dean crossed to the bed and sat next to him. He could feel the heat emanating from the other boy and shifted uncomfortably.

The two sat in silence for a few long minutes, not looking at each other. Seamus wondered what Dean was thinking about. He wondered whether the other boy even realized how much pain he was inflicting.

"Maybe you could help train me up a bit before my first practice?" Dean asked at last. Apparently he wasn't thinking about how he was affecting Seamus. That somehow hurt more than Dean being chosen as Chaser over him.

"Do I look like a masochist to you?" Seamus hissed, looking straight ahead.

Dean had the audacity to laugh at that.

"I don't know if you meant that as an insult to me or not, but I'm going to pretend you didn't."

Seamus' hands had balled up again. Dean was acting like this was all a fucking joke. "Not everything is about you, you prat."

"No, of course not, but I-"

"Did you once stop to think about how this made me feel? I'm your-"

Seamus cut himself off abruptly. He had almost said "boyfriend," but he had no idea if that's how Dean saw him.

"You're my what?" Dean said curiously.

Seamus could have kicked himself. Instead, he stood and quickly moved away from the other boy's keen gaze.

"Friend," he ground out. "I'm your friend."

"Seamus." Dean's voice sounded so uncharacteristically stern that Seamus turned around to look at him. "You are so much more to me than that."

Seamus gazed into his roommates' eyes and saw sincerity there. And something else...something that he couldn't identify.

"I'm sorry," Dean said again. He fiddled with the sheet next to him for a moment, clearly steeling himself to say something. "I could go to Harry, ask him to pick you instead?"

Seamus shook his head. "No. You earned that spot fair and square. I don't want to be put on the team out of pity." He meant it, too. If Dean was the better flyer, so be it. That didn't mean he had to like it.

"But if it's hurting you... that's the last thing I want." Dean was now twisting the bedsheet with his fingers, but his eyes were still on Seamus.

Seamus' eyes softened a little, and he took a few steps back towards Dean. "Do you...do you really mean that?"

"Of course," Dean whispered. He was gripping the sheet so hard that Seamus could see his knuckles turn white.

Seamus suddenly felt the clouds of jealousy lift from his mind, and he was able to think much more clearly. He was being a prat, resenting Dean for something that Dean had worked hard to earn. He didn't want Quidditch to come between the two of them. What he had with Dean was special, even if Dean didn't think so. Quidditch didn't matter to him as much as Dean did. Quidditch would never even come close.

The corners of Seamus' mouth turned up slightly as he came to this realization. "I never want to hurt you either," he whispered back. "And I... I'm so proud of you, Dean. Really."

Dean grinned, and Seamus couldn't help but admire how his eyes lit up. He leaned down and kissed him, hoping Dean would reward him with another heart-stopping smile.

Dean did, and Seamus suddenly forgot why he had been so peeved in the first place. All he could think of was tangling his hands in Dean's hair and pressing his body as close to Dean's as he possibly could. The other boy tasted like oranges, and Seamus couldn't get enough of him.

When they finally came up for air, Dean gasped, "Would you want to make things official between us? Go on a proper date with me?"

"I'd love that," Seamus breathed. "I'd love to be your...boyfriend."

Dean took his hand. "You already were in all but name."

Seamus chuckled and squeezed Dean's hand. "I suppose we have Harry to thank for this? Making us confront our relationship?"

"Hell no," Dean laughed. "Harry gets enough credit, let's keep this for ourselves."


Word count: 1,023

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Haven't really written Dean and Seamus (as characters) before, but I think they have an interesting dynamic. Let me know your thoughts!