It was a good ten minutes or so when Dean leaned back from the canvas and dropped his brush into the pan of water beside his stool. "Fucking finally," he said to himself wiping away some sweat with his bare forearm, then blinking a few times as he studied the finished product. From the corner of his eye he thought he saw something, and he nearly fell off the stool jumping to turn to see who was there.
"Damn, Seamus..." He steadied himself, and by the time he was standing up, he was laughing. "I didn't hear you."