Team: Holyhead Harpies
Position: Beater 1
Prompt: [scenario] a game night or a weekly tradition
Optional Prompts: [word] adorable; [action] dancing; [colour] bright yellow
Word Count: 2,980

Warnings: foul language

A/N: Mods confirmed that a tradition surrounding an approximately weekly event (such as a sports event) would count for this prompt, and that the tradition could be based in superstition. Modern footballer AU.

dancing in a snow globe 'round and 'round

Seamus had no idea what he was doing. Tomorrow was the biggest day of his life so far, so any rational bloke would have packed it in and gone to bed after the team dinner had finished. No one would be walking down the streets of Birmingham on their way to a date. And a first date no less. He paused mid-step, lost in thought. How did he even know this would be worth it? But a moment later, he shook off those doubts. He owed it to Harry to follow through if his friend thought that he and this… Dean bloke would hit it off.

The restaurant seemed to be a hole-in-the-wall type of joint, but when the hostess showed Seamus to his table, he was astonished to find himself on a semi-private terrace with green vines and fairy lights crisscrossing overhead. A singer was situated in the corner with a guitar, strumming the strings and crooning some soft mood music. The hostess led him to an empty table, and Seamus took the seat facing the entryway so that he could keep an eye out for Dean. Not that he really knew what Dean looked like, but that Harry had assured him that he would find the guy attractive.

Only about ten minutes passed before a tall man with sepia-toned skin and a pleasant demeanour walked in, and Seamus hoped he was Dean. He couldn't really explain how, but the guy just seemed to have a smiley persona about him, and just looking at him made Seamus feel a burst of happiness. Much to Seamus' delight, he walked over, a hesitant and curious smile on his face.

"Hi, Seamus?"

"Yeah," he answered, a blush already rising on his cheeks as he stood to shake hands. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Dean replied, taking the seat opposite him.

As with most dates, the first few minutes were almost unbearably awkward, trying to figure out what to say to a complete stranger. But after a little while, Seamus and Dean settled into a pleasant rhythm of conversation and flirtatious smiles. He really enjoyed talking to Dean, and it was easy for them both to become completely enveloped by their little bubble, so engrossed that they barely noticed as the minutes ticked into hours.

"This is one of my favourite songs," Dean said abruptly, tipping his head to the side as he listened to the musician play. "Dance with me?"

"What? No, no one else is dancing," Seamus protested, his cheeks turning even more pink.

"And you're going to let that stop you?" he challenged as he raised one eyebrow. "C'mon."

If he did keep dating Dean, Seamus thought he was going to be totally screwed because he was finding it completely impossible to resist his requests. Rolling his eyes, Seamus stood up, reaching for Dean's hand, but he couldn't quite keep the smile from pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"So your favourite is really Taylor Swift?" Seamus teased as they started to dance in the space between the tables.

"Hey, don't judge!" Dean said, offering up a dramatic little fake gasp of offence. "Let me guess, you're a hard rock kind of guy."

"No," Seamus lied, sure that his entire face was now flushed from the tip of his nose to the tips of his ears.

Dean laughed and oh god, if Seamus thought that his smile made him happy, it was nothing compared to his laugh.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're adorable?" Dean asked, his eyes meeting Seamus' with glittering affection.

He leaned in, brushing his nose gently against Seamus' cheek before catching his lips for a soft kiss. He lingered for a moment, the touch making Seamus feel completely giddy. Dean's hand cupped his jaw, tilting his head to the side a little so he could deepen the kiss, and Seamus felt like he was melting. But after a minute, Dean pulled away, looking at Seamus with a dopey grin.

"Walk me home?"

Seamus nodded in agreement, stepping out of the warm circle of Dean's arms, but he slipped his hand into Dean's as they walked. It turned out that Dean didn't live far away – a five or maybe ten minute walk – and when he came to a stop outside of a pretty brick rowhouse, Seamus found that one particular detail stood out. The door of Dean's house was a bright, sunny yellow, almost the exact same colour as Seamus' home kit. It was an unusual colour to see on a door, and that somehow gave Seamus the impression of more than just a coincidence. The words "meant to be" sprung to mind.

"Perhaps we can do this again?" Dean suggested, looking at Seamus expectantly.

"I'd like that," he agreed with a smile. He didn't have much time for dating, but he didn't think he'd mind making some time for Dean.

Seamus reached for Dean, fingers curling around the back of his neck as he pulled him in for a kiss goodnight. The way Dean responded to his touch set Seamus' skin aflame, nerves sparking underneath. Yeah, he wouldn't mind doing this again.

WOL 0 - 1 LEE 17:26

Seamus jogged down the field, just a little bit to the left of centre, as Michael Corner sprinted down the wing with the ball. One of the opposing defenders – Flint, he thought – was trying to keep pace with Michael, but it was little use. Michael was bloody fast and he'd gotten a headstart on Flint. Seamus was trying to stay open without getting offsides, ready for the pass if Michael decided to make it. He cut inside with the ball, and with just a quick glance ahead, he sent a missile of a pass toward the top of the penalty area, just a little left of centre.

The world seemed to disappear, the sound of the stadium dulling to a distant roar, and all he could see was the keeper and the bright white netting of the goal behind him. He took one soft touch, tapping the ball with the outside of his foot to slow its movement and change its trajectory, and then he wound up, firing the ball at the goal in an absolute rocket of a shot.

He didn't even need to watch to know that the ball went in. As the crowd collectively held their breath to see if it would go in, Seamus could hear the satisfying whoosh of the ball striking the net, and then the entire stadium erupted in deafening cheers.

Seamus grinned so wide, he knew his cheeks would be sore later, but he couldn't help it. He had just scored his first-ever Premier League goal.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if Dean was watching.

Seamus wasn't typically superstitious – he wasn't one of those players who couldn't wash his socks or had to wear the same exact cleats or anything like that. But it wasn't lost on him that he hadn't scored in the first two games of the season, then he'd scored two goals the day after his date with Dean, and he hadn't scored in the three games since. He wasn't usually superstitious, but this seemed like too much to be a coincidence.

He had to admit – Dean was his good luck charm.

Feeling a little bit desperate, Seamus found himself on Dean's doorstep before he really even registered making the decision to do so. He raised his fist and knocked on the bright yellow painted oak door, hoping to God that Dean was home. Not even a minute later, the door opened, and Dean stood in front of him with a surprised smile.

"Seamus!" he greeted warmly.

"I need you," Seamus blurted out.

Dean grinned, his eyes flicking up and down over Seamus' body. "Okay."

Seamus' cheeks felt hot as a blush rose on his skin. "I meant… I need your help."

"Sure, what can I do for you?" he chuckled, holding the door open for Seamus to step inside.

"I need to take you out on a date. Tonight. Now," Seamus answered, ignoring the open door.

Dean raised an eyebrow at the frantic nature of the words, but he reached inside the door, grabbing a jacket and a wallet anyway. "Where to?"

"We need to go back to the restaurant," Seamus said, reaching for Dean's hand and pulling him down the street at a frenetic pace.

Dean chuckled as he allowed himself to be pulled along, but he didn't say anything else.

Seamus was surprised to find that he remembered the way back to the restaurant from Dean's apartment, especially given how addled his mind felt at that moment, but perhaps that was somehow working in his favour. At least, he thought it might be until he stood outside the door of the restaurant staring at a bright red "CLOSED" sign.

"Fucking hell," he swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck – I do not need this."

"Seamus, what's wrong?" Dean said, grabbing Seamus' shoulders and turning him to face him. "Tell me what's going on."

"I – it's going to sound stupid."

"So what?"

Seamus hesitated, unsure of whether or not to tell Dean the truth – he wasn't sure he wanted to hear how crazy it sounded out loud. He also wasn't entirely sure whether or not he trusted Dean, and he didn't really want to risk his lunacy becoming public knowledge when his career was just starting to take off. But the more he looked into his rich brown eyes and saw the earnest smile on his face, the more Seamus felt inclined to share everything with him.

"I haven't scored a goal since the game after our date," he admitted. "And I thought…"

"You thought that if you recreated the date, maybe you'd score tomorrow," Dean finished.

Seamus nodded sheepishly, unable to meet Dean's eyes.

"Alright, come on," Dean said, grabbing his hand and tugging him back along the pavement.

"What?"

"Well, maybe we don't have to recreate the whole date exactly," Dean reasoned. "If we do enough of the same things… We can go back to my place, eat dinner. I've got a little patio in the back, we can sit out there, we can dance under the moonlight to the same song… It'll work, I know it will."

Seamus felt himself fill to the brim with gratitude for this amazing guy. They had only been on one date and Dean was willing to put up with his craziness. He was feeling more than just gratitude – he was feeling something that resembled a certain four-letter word. All he could do was grab Dean's jacket and pull him into a fiery kiss.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're adorable?" Dean murmured against his lips before kissing Seamus again.

WOL 0 - 0 EVE 09:42

Seamus watched as Roger adjusted the ball, placing it perfectly in the corner of the field and at the precise angle he wanted. Roger was a master at set plays, had been for years, and it was always a thrill to be on the receiving end of one of his corner kicks, so much so that Seamus was practically buzzing with excitement.

He had a good feeling about this, one that he couldn't explain. Somehow he just knew that he could score this. He watched Roger jog up to the ball, swinging his foot as he launched the ball into the air. It arched beautifully, and Seamus shifted a little bit this way and that as he tried to position himself perfectly at the end of it – the proverbial pot at the end of the rainbow. He bent his knees, leaping into the air as high as he could, and it didn't matter that he was a few inches shorter than the defenders around him, because he had timed it perfectly, knocking the ball through the outstretched hands of the keeper with a flick of his head.

As cheers echoed through the stadium and his teammates piled on top of him in celebration, Seamus felt himself exhale in relief. He was back, and he really hoped Dean was watching.

Seamus buried his head against the curve of Dean's neck, breathing deeply. His eyelids fluttered as he inhaled the sweet scent of Dean's cologne, and he tried to focus on the sway of their bodies instead of the swirl of anxiety in his stomach.

"Big day tomorrow," Dean murmured quietly. "You okay?"

Seamus shrugged, trying to give the impression of being more nonchalant than he truly felt. "I still have three more goals to go, I probably won't get there tomorrow."

"Nonsense," Dean said, peppering Seamus' cheeks with featherlight kisses. "I believe in you."

Seamus smiled, hugging Dean a little bit tighter. He listened to the soothing melody of their song playing, setting the slow rhythm of their steps. It was familiar now, the way they moved together like this, the way they danced. But there seemed to be something new in the song as he listened to it. He felt the words resonating more than they ever had before, and after a minute, he realised why. He was in love with Dean.

WOL 2 - 1 WHU 78:04

Seamus felt a little bit like he was suffocating in pressure. He wanted to be fully immersed in the game, but it was hard when he knew that he was one goal away from setting a new record for the number of goals scored in a single season. All he wanted was to score one more time – a hat trick and a new record. What could be better?

Maybe it was because of that pressure that Seamus was a little bit distracted. Maybe it was because of that pressure that he was a little bit absentminded as he was dribbling toward the goal. And maybe that explained why he didn't react to the defender's slide tackle fast enough, instead having his feet swept out from underneath him, crashing to the ground with a crunch. A spike of pain shot through his arm, but he ignored it as the referee blew his whistle for the foul. A sprained wrist was nothing, certainly not something that was going to make him leave the game.

"You alright?" Terry asked, hauling Seamus to his feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You want the kick?" Terry looked at him expectantly.

Seamus glanced around, noting his position just outside of the penalty area as the opposing team began to line up in a wall. He nodded. He definitely wanted this shot. Terry grinned and walked away, taking up his own spot. As everyone got into position, Seamus adjusted the ball and set it up exactly where he wanted it. He could see the keeper standing just to the side of the wall of defenders, blocking the far side of the goal, but there was a gap over the head of the defender on the other end of the wall. Even when he jumped up, there would be a space. If Seamus could arc the ball just right… He stepped back a few paces, lining himself up, and as soon as the referee signalled that he could shoot, Seamus took a few stuttering steps and then kicked the ball. It curved, hitting the gap exactly as Seamus had envisioned, and then careened into the back of the net.

Seamus dropped to his knees, too excited (and a little bit relieved) to do anything but collapse and laugh euphorically. He couldn't believe he had actually done it, and he couldn't wait to celebrate with Dean after the game. After all, he wouldn't have been able to do any of this without Dean.

Seamus pushed open the bright yellow door of the house to find it unexpectedly empty. Usually, Dean would be in the den editing photos or cooking dinner in the kitchen, but tonight he was in neither of those places. Seamus paused, trying to remember whether Dean had told him about any plans, and then he heard the soft warble of music floating in from the patio. Smiling, Seamus made his way through the little house, quietly pushing open the door to the back garden. Dean was grinning, dancing around a little as he set the table, and Seamus couldn't help but stand and watch him for a minute.

"You're home!" Dean exclaimed as he spun around and caught sight of Seamus. He stepped toward Seamus and pulled him into a hug, kissing the top of his head. "How was your day?"

"It was fine," he shrugged, leaning into his boyfriend happily. "What is all this?"

"Date night. I thought we deserved it," Dean answered. "There's one more thing though."

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping it quickly. The music shifted and Seamus instantly recognised their song as it played through the little garden patio. Dean's hands found his hips, holding him close as he started to sway.

"What are you doing, Dean?" he asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he looked up at his boyfriend.

"What do you think?" he answered, pulling Seamus close. "We're dancing."

"Dean, the season's over, there's no football tomorrow!" Seamus protested lightly, laughing a little.

"Somewhere in the world, somebody'll be playing football tomorrow," Dean shrugged as he leaned down, his lips brushing against Seamus'. "Has anyone ever told you that you're adorable?"

"You're such a dork," Seamus whispered against Dean's lips before wrapping his fingers around the fabric of Dean's shirt and tugging him closer for a fierce, bruising kiss.

"What d'you think about making this a weekly tradition?" Dean asked, brushing the tip of his nose against Seamus' affectionately.

"I'm so on board," Seamus answered, smiling as he leaned into Dean and swayed along with him to the melody of their song.