Still, where did the lighter fluid come from? (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} emiime) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} emific,@ 2008-04-12 00:48:00 |
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Breaking Point (Seamus/Dean, G)
Title: Breaking Point
Pairing: Seamus/Dean
Rating: G
Word Count: 694
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR's.
Summary: Dean is patient. Seamus is an arse. A closeted arse.
Notes: A teenyfic gift frommaple_mahogany to fitzette with the prompt "nieces and nephews". I have never written this pairing before!
Dean Thomas was a patient man, but even he had his breaking point.
"I think I've got it now," he said, concentrating and ticking the names off one by one on his fingers. "There's Emma, Michael, Danny, Kath—no, Katie, Eric, Stephen, Jimmy, Maureen, um, Peter, um—damn—"
"Angie," Seamus supplied, "Frances, Joseph, Eric—"
"I said Eric!" Dean declared, stopping short, fuming. He'd been going over this list for an hour now.
"Did you?" Seamus asked mildly, turning around a few feet in front of Dean and walking backwards into the pub. "I must've missed that one."
"Oh, you heard me," Dean said in his best threatening tone. "You're just trying to confuse me!" Seamus only grinned and waggled his eyebrows as they entered the pub, wending their way through the Saturday night crowd to find seats. A group of rough looking men was just vacating a corner booth, and Seamus saluted them as they left.
"Ta, gents," he said, and one of the men smiled.
"Seamus Finnigan," he said, his arms crossed over his chest, "Come to town to see yer ma, then? And who's this?" He indicated Dean as if he were an afterthought.
"This's my best mate," Seamus said, putting his hand lightly on the small of Dean's back. Dean fervently hoped that the burly man wouldn't see how intimately Seamus was touching him.
"Dean Thomas," he said, stepping forward a little, away from Seamus's touch. He was saved from further interaction by the man's friends shouting at him from near the bar. He heaved a sigh as he slid into the booth across from Seamus.
"Overwhelmed?" Seamus asked. Dean nodded.
"'Overwhelmed' doesn't even begin to cover it," he said, watching Seamus signal to one of the well-endowed waitresses.
His first sip of ale did much to restore Dean, and by the bottom of his second pint he was feeling himself again, not as shy as he'd initially been upon his arrival in Seamus's little town. He'd be lying, of course, if he told himself he wasn't looking forward to slipping in between the sheets beside Seamus tonight at the inn where they'd be staying for the course of the family reunion, but maybe this pub was all right, he decided, and he let Seamus order another round.
"So," Seamus said, grinning over his pint at Dean. "Ready for the big test tomorrow? Think you'll be able to spot all my nieces and nephews? You'll know Eric right away—bit of a nancy, him."
Dean quirked an eyebrow, saying nothing. He knew Seamus had to act straight around his family, but that was a bit much.
"Maybe you'd better get to work on some little Erics and Maureens of your own," Dean said, studying the rings of condensation his glass left on the table, making a pattern out of them.
"You bloody kidding?" Seamus spat, leaning across the table. His words were a harsh whisper, and Dean could barely make them out in the din of the pub.
"I am so completely and utterly gay for you," Seamus hissed, and he slammed his empty glass on the table and sat back hard against the wooden back of the booth, folding his arms over his chest and scowling.
They left soon after that, and later, between the cool white sheets, Seamus kissed Dean fiercely.
"I meant what I said back there," he growled, "But I can't be that around my family. You have to understand that."
Dean didn't understand, not exactly. He wondered how many of Seamus's sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews—particularly Eric the nancy—would actually have a problem with Seamus's choice of mate. One in ten, he'd heard, and since there were a hundred or so Finnigans attending the family reunion tomorrow, he doubted Seamus would be alone.
But he wouldn't press, except to press his lips to Seamus's, and he'd be patient for as long as he could.
Dean Thomas was a patient man, yes. And he'd never to anything to jeopardise his best mate's—his lover's—standing within his family.
But even Dean had his breaking point.
Title: Breaking Point
Pairing: Seamus/Dean
Rating: G
Word Count: 694
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. JKR's.
Summary: Dean is patient. Seamus is an arse. A closeted arse.
Notes: A teenyfic gift from
maple_mahogany to fitzette with the prompt "nieces and nephews". I have never written this pairing before!Dean Thomas was a patient man, but even he had his breaking point.
"I think I've got it now," he said, concentrating and ticking the names off one by one on his fingers. "There's Emma, Michael, Danny, Kath—no, Katie, Eric, Stephen, Jimmy, Maureen, um, Peter, um—damn—"
"Angie," Seamus supplied, "Frances, Joseph, Eric—"
"I said Eric!" Dean declared, stopping short, fuming. He'd been going over this list for an hour now.
"Did you?" Seamus asked mildly, turning around a few feet in front of Dean and walking backwards into the pub. "I must've missed that one."
"Oh, you heard me," Dean said in his best threatening tone. "You're just trying to confuse me!" Seamus only grinned and waggled his eyebrows as they entered the pub, wending their way through the Saturday night crowd to find seats. A group of rough looking men was just vacating a corner booth, and Seamus saluted them as they left.
"Ta, gents," he said, and one of the men smiled.
"Seamus Finnigan," he said, his arms crossed over his chest, "Come to town to see yer ma, then? And who's this?" He indicated Dean as if he were an afterthought.
"This's my best mate," Seamus said, putting his hand lightly on the small of Dean's back. Dean fervently hoped that the burly man wouldn't see how intimately Seamus was touching him.
"Dean Thomas," he said, stepping forward a little, away from Seamus's touch. He was saved from further interaction by the man's friends shouting at him from near the bar. He heaved a sigh as he slid into the booth across from Seamus.
"Overwhelmed?" Seamus asked. Dean nodded.
"'Overwhelmed' doesn't even begin to cover it," he said, watching Seamus signal to one of the well-endowed waitresses.
His first sip of ale did much to restore Dean, and by the bottom of his second pint he was feeling himself again, not as shy as he'd initially been upon his arrival in Seamus's little town. He'd be lying, of course, if he told himself he wasn't looking forward to slipping in between the sheets beside Seamus tonight at the inn where they'd be staying for the course of the family reunion, but maybe this pub was all right, he decided, and he let Seamus order another round.
"So," Seamus said, grinning over his pint at Dean. "Ready for the big test tomorrow? Think you'll be able to spot all my nieces and nephews? You'll know Eric right away—bit of a nancy, him."
Dean quirked an eyebrow, saying nothing. He knew Seamus had to act straight around his family, but that was a bit much.
"Maybe you'd better get to work on some little Erics and Maureens of your own," Dean said, studying the rings of condensation his glass left on the table, making a pattern out of them.
"You bloody kidding?" Seamus spat, leaning across the table. His words were a harsh whisper, and Dean could barely make them out in the din of the pub.
"I am so completely and utterly gay for you," Seamus hissed, and he slammed his empty glass on the table and sat back hard against the wooden back of the booth, folding his arms over his chest and scowling.
They left soon after that, and later, between the cool white sheets, Seamus kissed Dean fiercely.
"I meant what I said back there," he growled, "But I can't be that around my family. You have to understand that."
Dean didn't understand, not exactly. He wondered how many of Seamus's sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews—particularly Eric the nancy—would actually have a problem with Seamus's choice of mate. One in ten, he'd heard, and since there were a hundred or so Finnigans attending the family reunion tomorrow, he doubted Seamus would be alone.
But he wouldn't press, except to press his lips to Seamus's, and he'd be patient for as long as he could.
Dean Thomas was a patient man, yes. And he'd never to anything to jeopardise his best mate's—his lover's—standing within his family.
But even Dean had his breaking point.