It was ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts and they probably shouldn't still have those horrible dreams of people dying.
There was a memorial at the lake with loads of important people in fancy dress robes. People that were adults when children were tortured by Death Eaters, people that did nothing to protect them. These people swarmed around the veterans like flies around a big pile of dragon dung. Seamus hated the way they stare at family and friends like animals in a zoo.
Neither him nor Ron wanted to be here, but Hermione Granger's howlers can be feckin' scary and she basically forced everyone to come with the full family. Something about honouring the dead. Seamus would have preferred honouring them in a run-down pub or a their dingy apartment with copious amounts of strong alcohol. He still dreamed of Lavender's maimed corpse every second and Ron have arrived separately and Ron had his place with Harry at his left, struggling to be strong while Hermione at his right side couldn'd stop the tears from falling. They weren't fighting today. Probably because they were both too busy mourning for the dead and not breaking.
As soon as the official part's over, the guest scatter over the area in smaller groups.
It was May. Not summer yet, but the sun was already warm and after the official part's over, the children ran around and played, while the guests tried to make meaningful conversation. A few journalists tried to tease some informations out of the veterans. They were lured to Harry like moths to a candle and it was the safest to stay away from the Weasleys and Harry, if you you didn't want to answer intrusive, disrespectful questions about how it felt to see wee little eleven-year-old getting cruciatused.
Seamus still couldn't stop himself from being on the look-out for Ron though. They were friends after all and they spent too much time together, mourning for a life they'd never have. He couldn't just stop caring for Ron, who was keeping his distance from Harry, staying close to George instead. Seamus could see the worry in his old friend's features. It hurt to watch.
His attention shifted when Dean entered his field of vision. He came closer, two glasses fancy sparkling wine in his hands, and passed one of the glasses to Seamus before sitting down beside him on these rattly chairs in front of the monument.
It felt good to meet Dean without his wife for a change and Seamus couldn't keep his heart from flutterig nervously, when he noticed that his best mate smelled the same as he had since entering puberty. It was difficult to describe and so much "Dean" that he just wanted to hide in it and never smell anything else again.
Dark eyes mustered Seamus and Dean's shoulder is touching Seamus and he looked oddly happy for such a serious occasion. Dean was as beautiful as ever. He's a bit too tall for his chair, but while it looked always like an gangly giant mantis when Ron sat down on seats to small for him, Dean still somehow managed to look confident and charming without even trying. He leaned back in his chair, relaxed arms crossed in front of a chest. Dean's lean muscles stretched his dress robes just a little but and his the legs comfortably apart. Seamus would kill for these thighs being circled around his hips.
"So, mate..." Dean sounded more unsure than Seamus was used to and while his smile was almost to bright too look at, he still talked like he needed to be careful. It was feckin' annoying to see him tiptoeing around like that.
"How've you been the last weeks? Haven't seen you for ages..." His voice was soft and deep and every word was careful. Shay was not sick. He was fine. He was even almost happy. With his job and Ron's children he felt useful and it was nice to have someone around to drink, nag and do stupid things with. Dean had no right to talk to him like he belonged in the Janus Thickey Ward! He felt himself frowning and the tension rising in his shoulders. He felt like he needs something much stronger than just fancy sparkling wine and empties his glass in one go.
"...'m fine, Dean. Jus' don' wanna get in ya way." it sounded like a lie even for him. "Yeh know I'm dumb. I can't keep my mouth shut and ya still playing the Muggle for ya girl. That's a big feckin' part of yeh tha' yeh keep hidin' there...I've seen that with me parents and me mum at least told Da after the wedding." Yes, he sounded bitter and no, he didn't conceal it with cheeriness. It was a bum-feckin' bad day and he didn't know how fake smile anymore.
Seamus felt bad for it the moment he said it though. Dean looked miserable. He wanted to hug him, but was scared to overstep the boundaries of "strictly platonic", so he optioned for a awkward clap on the shoulder instead. "It's ya decision, Dean...even if I don' think 'tis a smart move..." he leaned closer, tried a smile. Dean tried to mirror his expression and failed. Seamus' chest hurt from watching him.
"I'm still ya best mate, Dean. I wan' yeh to be happy." he needed to get out of here! Needed to get his heart stop thumping like it about to leap out of his rip cage and he needed decidedly more alcohol. "...'m getting more drinks..." he mumbled hastily before fleeing with billowing dress robes.
Seamus didn't dare to turn around and to see Dean left alone on a chair that's too small with a half-drunk glass of sparkling wine.
They had neither whiskey nor gin nor any other drink that got the job done more effectively. The young witch behind the makeshift counter was obviously not very pleased when he asked for it. She gave him a full bottle of sparkling wine though.
On the way back to Dean, he shortly checked if the kids were okay and had a few words with Neville. His old dorm mate and him started to have more contact during their chaotic seventh year. And Seamus still liked him a lot even though they were so different in personality and interests that it was sometimes a bit difficult to find a topic to talk about. Neville told him that he was thinking about asking Hannah Abbot tomarry him, something that Seamus considered a great idea, but he's gotten a bit more careful, since a lot of the ideas he considered as great were pretty dumb in the long run. He ignored the pang in his chest when he got6 confronted again with what was normal for a wizard.
Marrying a feckin' witch and getting a handful of children was the ideal. Living with a guy you don't even like him that way was not part of that ideal. Spending more days drunk than not and raising other people's kids was not what is see as normal. It was sinful and wrong and decreased the already small number of witches and wizards in the next generation. Seamus pushed these thoughts back down where they came from and he grined as broadly as he could manage. he congratulated Neville and opened the bottle to fill their glasses for a toast, before continuing his path.
Dean was still sitting in exact the same position as he's left him. He was so deep in thoughts, that he didn't even notice Seamus coming back and sitting down until Seamus took the glass from his hand to fill it again. "Yeh okay?" Seamus muttered silently even though he already knew he wasn't. Dean knew that he knew, but he still nodded.
"Do you think, I should talk with Jolene about...you know... being a wizard?" he mumbled after a while looking down on these big, slender artist hands like it's their fault he couldn't be honest with his wife. "Dunno. Yeh gotta decide that for yehself. If she loves yeh, she'll love yeh the same with or without magic." Seamus wanted to believe that. His jealousy was killing him, but he wanted to believe, that for Dean it was worth to lose the closeness to his best mate. That she and her love was worth more than Seamus missing a man he could never have anyway.
"You make it sound so easy." groaned Dean and emptied his glass. Seamus refilled and stared on the lake.
"It is feckin' easy." he hissed harsher than intended and he could feel Dean flinching beside him."If she can't love yeh any more jus' 'cause yeh've got a few more talents than painting and charming her knickers off, she's no' worth it!" Seamus tilted his glass letting the fizzy liquid pour down his throat. He couldn't stop himself from pulling a face. He'd kill for a whiskey or atleast a beer right now.
"I love yeh, man, even though yeh're a wizard."
Oh sh...where did that come from? Merlin! He was so feckin' stupid! Couldn't keep his feckin' mouth shut to safe his life...
There was a short silence and Dean shooting him careful side glances. It wasn't like Seamus to talk about all that mushy feeling stuff in general. It made him uncomfortable. He's bad at showing his feelings, when they're not anger and there's probably no one that knows that better than Dean. Seamus felt his ears and cheeks grow hot. He didn't want Dean to know how much of a failure he was.
So he laughed. It's not funny at all and he really, really would like to have a stronger drink, but as long as the awkward pause faded away and his friend joined in his laughter, he wasn't completely unhappy.
"I told 'im, tha' I love 'im." Seamus said quietly that evening, when the kids are in bed and Seamus and Ron each sit above a bunch of files from work, half-drunken bottles of ale on the blank kitchen table. Ron leaned back a bit and his faded t-shirt rides up to show a freckled stomach. "What did 'e say?" he asked even though he knew the answer. There's no happy ending for blokes like them. Sometimes you could hope and you could pretend to be fine for a little while, but if you tell someone that it wasn't like that, the spell was broken and life was shitty again. "He laughed. Suppose 'e thought it's a joke or something..."
Ron didn't answer. He doesn't need to. His thoughts were showing on his face.
What did you expect, Finnigan!? The bloke's married, he doesn't even consider that any bloke, even less his best friend, could fall in love with him. Be happy that he didn't get it! Stuff like that can destroy friendships, you moron!
"You're an idiot." muttered Ron after a while and he looked as miserable as Seamus felt. Seamus was weirdly thankful for having Ron with him. "let's get something stronger." he mumbled and got on his feet to search the counter over the sink for alcohol.
And if later Seamus cried while they have vodka-fueled angry sex, neither of them was willing to acknowledge it. And if Ron breathed Harry's name desperately and broken against Seamus neck while he camr, they decided to ignore it. It was a shitty, bum-feckin' ugly life, but at least they weren't alone.