A/N: I don't normally write drabbles, so it was unusual to have a word limit for me, but it was fun to toy around with this challenge.

As you may have guessed, this was written as a drabble, and it was for The Houses Competition Round 4 - Are You Secure?

House: Gryffindor

Category: Drabble

Prompt: Dean/Seamus [Couple]

A little summary: It's just one of those days: Seamus can't find Dean anywhere.

Word Count: 635

"Babe?" He called through the house, peering around another corner. Dean was absent from the hallway, as well as from every room that he had checked on so far.

There were few places the man could hide from him in their tiny little flat; and Seamus wanted to make sure some horrible accident hadn't taken place while he was at work or anything. After the one time he had come home to find the other man passed out on the floor… there were no chances to be taken anymore.
For a moment, the Irishman stood, trying not to burst into full-fledged panic. This was unusual, for sure, but he couldn't let it get to him. Sometimes they both needed time alone.

"In here." A soft voice responded - and Seamus nearly fainted from relief. Dean was seated in his studio, an empty canvas spread before him.

"What are you doing, Dean?" He asked quietly, staring at the scene before him.

Paints were situated all around the seat that held the tall dark man. Brushes were stuck in one particular spot on the floor yet none held any signs of recent use. There was no sign that anything had been done to create as Dean was so fond of, despite the surrounding evidence that seemingly said otherwise. Something was bugging his boyfriend: something large and looming was on his mind.

Only three years later and they were still in need of therapy from people who could certainly not relate to their situation. Seamus had tried time and time again to explain to many that they simply could not understand how anyone who had gone through that year had felt because it was something one had to experience to fully comprehend. Even the scars that traced his and Dean's body were not alike to many other people's, since other people had usually gained them from burning their hands on stoves or having a small accident with a wild critter.

These thoughts that flew through his head were what led Seamus to decide to make sure that the situation could be handled between the two of them. Walking up to Dean, he placed a hand on his shoulder gently, staring at the blank canvas.

"Was it a tough day?" Seamus asked softly.

"Sort of." The other did not break his gaze from the blankness of the canvas in front of them. "Had some...daydreams."

"I'm sorry to have to leave you all day, I could've helped…"

Dean shook his head gently, "We need the money. You're fine."

"Then how come you're obviously not having a good day? It's not good when you're not okay, love." He broke his gaze to look at Dean, who, when sitting, was at the height to be able to kiss Seamus without either of them having to bend down or stretch up. Seamus reached around and pecked the man's lips gently.

"I'll…"

"We can always talk." He offered.

"Maybe later," Dean said, turning to look at him with a gentle smile on his face, "For now, I think we should… we could make dinner together."

"Sounds great, hon." Seamus kissed him again, and this time Dean responded. Before they could really get to moving towards the kitchen, Seamus found himself on the other's lap with his arms clasped around Dean's neck, and performing what was definitely not a gentle kiss to the man's lips.

When they'd come up for breath and sat for a few minutes, Dean ruffled his hair gently, and he looked up at the other.

"Let's get to that pasta, hm?"

"Certainly."

Grasping Dean's hand, Seamus pulled him into the kitchen with a smile overtaking his face. Things might not be perfect; but they were as close to the very concept of perfection as Seamus thought it could all ever get.