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Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Seamus had made clear his feelings about people who couldn't handle Dean's libido without taking it personally many, many times in the past. "That's no excuse," he muttered. Not as much lately, but he was certainly familiar with sexual frustration and it had never yet made him act that differently from how he'd act under normal circumstances. He could understand - maybe - a bit of grumpiness, though even that didn't sit well with him when he knew without having to ask that Dean hadn't been leaving her high and dry. "Clearly didn't know how lucky she was," he added, putting the bottle down with a dull thud.

He shuffled back down the bed, curling himself around Dean as best he could without disturbing the truffles. He didn't know who it was supposed to help, himself or Dean, but he didn't want to let go. Under the anger was a too-familiar ache. It wasn't fair that Dean couldn't seem to find someone who deserved him. After everything he'd been through - everything they'd all been through - Seamus couldn't help but think the universe was giving them a shit return on all they'd done. "If she dares set foot in your room we'll... get the leprechauns to go in and smash all her stupid pottery." It was a pretty empty threat, Seamus' contract with the leprechauns had ended at midnight - but now he knew how to find them, and they weren't averse to a little mostly-harmless mischief.

"You can paint in The Roost when no one's using it," he offered. "It's big enough, right?" He knew it wasn't ideal - having to move or secure the canvasses when there were activities was never going to be a great option in the long run. But short term, so he didn't have to see Ophelia? Dean was welcome to use as much of Seamus's space as he wanted.