June 2001

Seamus could not hear a word that Dean was saying. It wasn't as if this was a club where some thumping electronic music deafened the whole room. No, this was supposed to just be a nice bar … with a very loud weekend DJ apparently. The whole place was packed, the lights seemed somewhat dimmer than usual, and the music was just a titch on the loud side. Seamus already struggled to hear in general when there was too much background noise. But he was sitting less than a meter away from Dean and he couldn't make out what he was saying. He clearly had an expression of confusion as moments later Dean leaned in, deliberately brushing his lips against Seamus' ear, "Why don't we let someone else take our seats so we can go dance?" Seamus didn't need more than half a second to agree. He threw a note on the bar for the kind bartender who had helped them get buzzed.

This was their night out. Awhile back, Dean had insisted that they needed to go out into the gay community more. Seamus had no idea that such a thing existed, being raised in the wizarding community where you were simply divided by houses. But Dean had insisted it would help them feel a little less unwelcome in the muggle world of London. So they had started frequenting the gay hotspots about town, hoping to find a place where they fit in. Dean certainly seemed to, but Seamus still felt slightly out of place. Or perhaps he just felt naked without his wand, which Dean had firmly insisted he leave at home, because: "Whenever you get drunk you try using magic for everything and then everything catches on fire!" It was as if he had to strip off one identity only to wear a different one he was less familiar with. It was something like irony, since Seamus was the gayer of the two of them.

But Seamus was happy enough, especially with liquid courage in his system. Dean was outrageously handsome, seeming to exude confidence as he pulled Seamus through the crowd. Granted, many of the men in the room were incredibly attractive but Seamus didn't care about them very much. Oh sure, he could glance at a man across the room and think filthy thoughts, but it was brief and unimportant. He imagined most straight men were the same way when seeing other attractive women about town. But Dean stood out from the crowd that night. It wasn't as if he was wearing anything out of the ordinary. Although, Seamus noted, Dean had deliberately worn his tightest shirt that was actually a size too small and always managed to ride up and show his midriff. But no tight, ill-fitted shirt was the reason for Seamus rekindled desire for his partner. No, it was definitely the swagger. This bravado that only seemed to show itself in the dark corners of a gay bar.

It took a surprisingly long time for Dean to find enough space for the two of them to dance. The bar was packed on a hot Saturday night. It had been hot enough outside all the day, and while the fans were on all over the inside of the bar, Seamus was still working up a sweat. Although that could have been in part due to the gyrating and the hormones, but he wasn't exactly in a logical enough frame of mind to realize it. They danced through a few rock songs that Dean recognized, and Seamus was completely unfamiliar with, before he excused himself to the lavatory. As Dean walked away, Seamus pulled himself out of the crowd, finally finding a wall to lean against. Seamus had not realized until that moment that he had a semi. His face flushed red as he tried to hide among the shadows along the wall, hoping nobody else noticed. As if anyone in this incredibly gay bar were going to care about an erection.

One, two, and three sexual-innuendo-laced rock songs played without Dean's return. Seamus started to get anxious and decided he would wander around until he found him. It couldn't be that hard to find a six foot tall black man in a gay bar — could it? But after much pacing, he still came up unsuccessful. He stopped at the bar briefly to take a couple shots. He still did not feel totally comfortable in the building, especially not without Dean to guide him through it. After his quick shots of whiskey, he set about searching for his boyfriend again. He really wanted to enjoy this for Dean, and when he spotted him across the room he decided he had to show him that he was having fun. And, in his drunken state, could think of no other way to do it than spin him around and kiss him. Standing on his tiptoes with his eyes screwed shut, Seamus kissed Dean heavily. His hand was balled up in Dean's shirt. Oddly, it felt less like the cotton too-tight tee that he had been wearing and more like unnaturally smooth polyester. Seamus didn't think much of it until he broke the kiss, fell to his feet, opened his eyes, and saw the man in front of him was definitely not Dean.

"Well hello to you too." The six foot three dark skinned man with a deep set voice said flirtatiously down to Seamus.

"I'm so sorry. Wrong man." Seamus spitted out quickly before dodging into the crowd. He hid behind the tall people in the bar until he finally saw Dean waiting where they had been dancing only twenty minutes ago. He scurried over to him and before he could say anything, "Where've you been? I went to get us some more, but the bartender was being an ass and kept taking other guy's orders before me." Dean explained as he handed Seamus a Guinness.

Seamus took the glass and stared down at the dark alcohol. He looked back up at Dean. Sweet, innocent, too-good-for-Seamus Dean.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked curiously, not suspecting anything bad at all. Seamus realized he was able to hear him now. The music was quieter. Had someone complained? "Shay?" Dean repeated, trying to get his attention again.

"Thank you." He choked out, "For the drink. Let's finish 'em up and go."

"Go? Why?"

"Because. I just — it's really hot in here." Seamus pathetically explained.

"Alright. That's okay." Dean said calmly, not wanting to seem to upset. They quickly and quietly polished off their beers before stepping out and heading down the street toward their flat. Dean seemed to have lost whatever buzz he had, while Seamus was wobbling quite a lot. As they rounded a corner onto their street, Seamus almost fell into the street itself. Dean grabbed onto his arm quickly and yanked him back onto the sidewalk. "Are you alright? You didn't have any more to drink than I did, and I'm usually the lightweight of the two of us."

Seamus shook his head as they walked up to their building, "Had two whiskey shots 'fore I found you." He explained quickly, his words slurred a bit.

Dean laughed a bit as he opened the front door and helped Seamus up the stairs to their apartment, "Well I suppose that explains it. I got'ch'ya. C'mon."

They finally ended up in their apartment again, and the minute Dean shut the door Seamus burst into ugly tears. No beautiful, one tear down the cheek like the men in the films did. No, this was gross sobbing. He was not usually a sad drunk, but his remorse and the inebriation did not pair together well.

"Merlin's beard," Dean muttered, "Shay, what's the matter?"

"I did a stupid stupid thing." He blubbered between hideous cries. Dean lead the wobbly, short man to the couch and sat him down. He grabbed a box of tissues for him.

"What did you do?" Dean asked curiously, suspecting personally that Seamus had caught something on fire even without his wand and that had been why he wanted to leave so quickly.

Seamus took a moment to clean his face and clear his sinuses before telling Dean the truth, "When you di'n't come back I went to find you. Must've walked right by you at the bar. Anyway, I had the shots and I wanted to show you that I was 'aving fun. Because you always worry about whether or not I'm axe-ually having a good time. So I kep tryin' t' find you. I says to meself 'Seamus, ye go find your man and show him you're happy. Show him ye love him.' And I went and fuckin' kissed a stranger by mistake. It was a total accident. I di'n't see his face. I just 'sumed it was you, spun the random man around, shut me eyes, and kissed a perfect stranger. I'm so sorry. I'm a foul man, Dean Thomas. Ye don't deserve such a piece of shite in your life. I understand if ye'd like to toss me out the window righ' now." Seamus felt as if lead had filled his bloodstream, and he had started to cry again halfway through his confession. It only made his slurred speech more difficult to translate. But Dean understood him well enough, having known Seamus long enough to have heard him cry while drunk before.

Seamus blabbered on for a while longer, not noticing or looking to see that Dean was trying not to laugh with a big dopey grin on his face. Right as Seamus was professing how he should've known he was a "cretin" all along, he glanced over and saw Dean's smile and his shoulders wobbling with laughter. "What's all this?" He asked, suddenly seeming frustrated.

"Love," Dean said once his laughter had gotten under control, "I'm not mad."

"Why not?" Seamus said righteously, which almost sent another laugh out of Dean.

"Because you didn't mean to and clearly you feel really bad about it." Dean pointed out. "I would be mad if you meant it, or if it was an accident but you didn't care or kept it a secret from me. How long were you carrying that for? Like, half an hour? No, I don't need to worry about you cheating on me if this is how bad you feel for doing it by mistake."

Seamus sniffled. He supposed Dean had a point. "Yeah. I do feel terrible for it."

Dean pulled Seamus over into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his cheek, "You poor thing. Don't fret yourself anymore, okay? I still love you. I'm not going to throw you out the window for kissing someone else on accident."

Seamus smiled a bit, laughing through the tears dried on his cheeks. "Thanks Dean. Is it okay if I kiss you or would that be too weird?" Dean answered the question by kissing Seamus sweetly. Whatever taste of the last man had been there had been washed away by the Guinness. It didn't take very long for Seamus to forget his needless guilt and fall for Dean all over again.