AU: Dean's a college student studying art and his roommate is a friend he hasn't talked to in years: Seamus Finnigan.
Dean's immediate thought when he saw Seamus Finnigan in his dorm was Well, shit. His second thought was Fuck, he's gotten hot.
"Uh, hey," Dean said, awkwardly shuffling his feet. "I'm Dean Thomas, in case you forgot or something…"
Seamus's head snapped up and he quickly whipped around to stare at Dean. "Wow. No, I have not forgotten. Hey there, mate. How long has it been...two, three years?"
Dean grinned. "Two and a half. How've you been?"
Seamus sighed. "Great. Yeah, I've been doing great, you?"
Dean shrugged as he threw his suitcase on the other bed. "I'm good."
He began unpacking his stuff, tossing sketchbooks and drawing supplies haphazardly into a small bedside drawer.
"What're you here for anyways?" Seamus asked, leaving his seat on the couch and leaning on the entryway to Dean's room.
"Art teacher. You?"
Seamus opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a rapping at the door.
"Seamus Finnigan, you open this door right now, or I swear I will kill you!" a loud voice shouted, punctuating each word with a forceful knock.
"Yeah, I'm coming," Seamus groaned and opened the door, revealing two girls. "Hey Parvati. Lavender."
"Hi Seamus. Who're you?" the darker-skinned one demanded, shooting Dean a glare.
"Er, Dean Thomas," Dean replied. "Uh, you?"
"I'm Parvati Patil, and this is my girlfriend, Lavender Brown," she answered smoothly, gesturing towards the other girl.
"Wait. Dean Thomas. As in, used-to-be-best-friends Dean Thomas?" Lavender asked, turning to Seamus. "That Dean Thomas?"
"Yeah," Seamus looked at his feet. "Uh, we haven't talked since my mum brought me back to Ireland."
Dean could feel the heat creeping up his cheeks and one glance at Seamus's red face proved that he was likely thinking of the same thing. Dean was bisexual, and Seamus's very homophobic mother had been convinced that letting Seamus around Dean was causing him to "catch that sinful homosexuality."
"Lav and I wanted to see if Seamus wanted to get coffee," Parvati said. "Dean, you can come too."
Dean gave a lopsided grin. "I'm good, thanks."
"Same here," Seamus added. "You two have fun."
Dean silently made his way back to the room once Parvati and Lavender exited, chattering happily about something. Seamus, surprisingly, followed him.
"Mate, I got to tell you something," Seamus muttered, stopping in the doorway. "'M gay."
Dean paused his rummaging through his drawer. "You're...gay?"
"That's what I just said, yes."
Dean laughed dryly. "I assume your mother wasn't happy about that?"
Seamus winced. "Yeah, well...she disowned me."
Dean dropped the sketchbook in his hand. "She what?"
"Disowned me."
"No, I got that bit. She...I'm sorry, Shay," Dean said. Seamus smiled at the return of his old nickname.
"Shay. I haven't been called that in years," Seamus mumbled, partly to himself. He looked up and met Dean's eyes. "I did miss you, you know."
"I missed you too," Dean smiled weakly. "I wish…" He trailed off, not sure how to phrase his thoughts. "I wish we had more time," he finished.
"So do I," Seamus agreed quietly, his head dropping back down.
They stayed in silence for a moment before Dean awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, I'm just gonna...finish...unpacking…"
"Wha-oh. Yeah. Me-me too," Seamus stuttered, leaving the room.
Dean did not, in fact, unpack. He opted instead to lay on his bed and contemplate when the fuck did his life get this complicated?
.-oOo-.
Somehow, Seamus convinced Dean to accompany him to the bar. Somehow, he convinced Dean to get slightly more than tipsy. They giggled as they stumbled back to their dorm, collapsing on the couch.
"Hey, Dean, y'know I was sooo upset when I had to move?" Seamus slurred, eyes drooping slightly.
"Yeah, Shay," Dean grinned at Seamus. "You came to my house crying your ass off."
Seamus snorted quietly. "Did I?"
Dean laughed and nodded.
"Well, there was a reason," Seamus admitted. "I was...well, I am, kinda in love with you."
Dean looked at him strangely. "You joking?" he asked.
"N-no," Seamus started. "I-"
His words were cut off by Dean's lips meeting his in a sloppy kiss that tasted mostly of whiskey. Seamus made a noise that sounded vaguely like a whining "hmmph" and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. Dean pulled away, slightly breathless.
"So...I assume the feeling is mutual?" Seamus quipped, releasing Dean's neck and running a knuckle across his jaw.
Dean's answer was kissing Seamus and slowly leading him to the bedroom.
.-oOo-.
"Fuck," Dean whispered, rubbing at his throbbing head. He fumbled around for his phone to check the time when his hand landed on a warm, moving mass next to him. He froze and carefully turned to confirm his suspicions. "Shit."
Seamus's chest was gently rising and falling, the Irish boy still fast asleep. Dean racked his memory, trying to remember what had happened that night. Seamus...had said that he loved him. And Dean had kissed him and….oh shit.
"G'morning," Seamus murmured, flipping on his side to face Dean.
"Uh...morning," Dean answered, trying to keep his panic in check. "Uh, ok. Um, last night…you...you said you loved me. And...well, it looks like one thing led to another, and…" Dean paused his rambling to draw a deep breath. "I just...want to make sure you meant it."
Seamus stared into Dean's eyes before tugging Dean closer and gently grazing his neck with a light kiss. "I meant it."
Dean shifted his head and met Seamus's lips with his own. Seamus sighed softly as they pulled apart.
"History teacher," Seamus said suddenly.
"What?"
"A history teacher. It's what I'm here for."
Dean chuckled. "An art teacher and history teacher in training. Cute."
Seamus grinned and pulled Dean in for another kiss. "Yeah, I guess it is."
Sorry sorry sorry for not posting! I was in Tennessee over spring break and I got home at like 10:30 last night and didn't have time to work on my stories.