"Lazy," Dean accused. He smiled though, rolling his eyes. "So what, you'll give them to the elves yourself? No deal, Finnigan, I'll think of something."
Dean cracked his knuckles loudly, and then walked over to drop down, swatting lightly at Seamus' arse. "And they do not stink. Twat."
He turned a little, one knee bent up onto the bed, the other foot still on the floor, eying Seamus and trying to figure out the best angle to do this from. He scooted back a little further, finally. "Alright, so tell me if I'm actually helping," he told Seamus, leaning over to rub at his shoulders carefully, since that's what he knew best. He might as well start there.