Tweak

InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Gettin' jiggy wit it."

Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-03-04 14:19:00

Entry tags:

character: dean thomas, character: seamus finnigan

Who: Seamus and Dean
What: Camping out at Dean's place
Where: Dean's flat
When: Monday 2nd March, evening
Rating: NSFW - language (probably)

Seamus felt no qualms about leaving Gobstones club in Blaise’s hands - he didn't usually attend anyway, and the bar was suitably staffed. He was easily able to escape from Finnigan's at the end of his shift. First, he filled a shabby rucksack with everything he might need for spending a night away from home - pyjamas, clean socks, toothbrush, clean t-shirt, chocolate, beer. Instead of apparating straight to Dean's flat, though, he made a significant detour via the chippy in Greencastle to pick up two portions of fish and chips.

Apparating all the way to Ireland and back in the span of twenty minutes meant that Seamus's crack of apparation was louder than he'd really like - and set him stumbling a little on his arrival, having misjudged the exact position of the table. He set his hand on it to steady himself, blinking rapidly to make the world come back into focus. "Dean?" he called hopefully. He'd been avoiding the studio even more assiduously than Dean himself, because running into Ophelia would spell good things for nobody. Seamus had already had to bank his anger that Ophelia was having enough of a lasting impact in Dean's life to trigger new nightmares. She had no right! "I come bearing food," he added. If that didn't entice Dean out of hiding then Seamus would have to go looking for him.

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artistdean
2015-03-30 02:47 pm UTC (link)

Dean grinned up at Seamus when he came looming into view, squinting and almost crossing his eyes as Seamus' hand got shoved into his face. He got the impression of red and damp before it was moved away again. "Glad to hear it, not the splinter, the not hurting yourself thing," he said, shoving himself up on his elbows.

"When've you been getting splinters? Thought you hadn't been flying in ages. Also, it'll serve you right for not keeping your broom up to scratch," he teased gently, unaware of the implications. He waved Seamus off. "Yeah, I'm fine. Scruffy shoes and knees, I'll probably ache tomorrow, but nothing major."

He took a couple of deep breaths as the worries of earlier in the day came crashing back. "Merlin, I wish it didn't take this to get me out of my head," he said, flopping back down again with a light thump.

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openbottle
2015-03-30 04:22 pm UTC (link)

Seamus frowned, opening his mouth to say something before he realised why Dean didn't already know. Shit. His dismayed expression was obvious, and his faltering attempt to lie about as subtle as a Blast-Ended Skrewt. "Uh. No, just, not flying but I - you know -" Lying to Dean was like trying to lie to himself: practically impossible. It wasn't even that he could be scary like Susan, he just knew Seamus far too well to fall for it. He watched Dean out of the corner of his eye and then nodded, as if that settled the matter. He knew it hadn't, but the pink blush spreading across his face was hard to distinguish from the flush of exertion.

The mood seemed to flop as Dean did, which Seamus obviously had to do something about. He lowered himself more carefully to his elbows, pillowing his cheek against Dean's stomach and turning his head to look up at him. "Well, it doesn't always," Seamus said pragmatically. "Sometimes you just need to paint, or spend time with me." He wished the latter was enough right now, but it obviously wasn't. It was getting darker and Seamus could hear the familiar tone of mums calling their wayward children home for dinner. His stomach grumbled a little as he thought of it. "We can go again, if you want. Two out of three?"

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artistdean
2015-03-30 08:44 pm UTC (link)

Even though it was hard to spot Dean thought there might be an additional flush to Seamus' cheeks as he blustered his way through what was pretty clearly a lie about his previous splinter. He raised his eyebrows, not really taken in. "No, I don't know," he said, blandly. "Maybe you want to explain it to me? Because I'm not so sure there was any flying involved."

"No, I guess it doesn't, but right now it pretty much seems like it," he said, sighing deeply enough that Seamus' head moved up and down with his stomach. "No, I'm good thanks," he said, knowing the offer wasn't just about Seamus trying to win a around.

After a minute or two of just lying there staring at the slowly darkening sky he took a deep breath and began to speak. "I just wish she hadn't wormed in far enough that her yelling that really hurt me. I mean I expected that from dickheads who don't know me, but you'd think my girlfriend would realise that I don't want her yelling about my mental health in public. Especially around muggles who won't understand. Of course she does that and it hurts so much, it hurts enough that it keeps invading my dreams. Only they've become nightmares where instead of the relative privacy of a restaurant - no matter how much I like it mind you - she's yelling it in the middle of Diagon Fucking Alley, yelling 'You have a problem with your brain, I never expected you to be normal!'," he said, swallowing the bile in his throat bitterly. It wasn't exactly what she'd said, but it was close enough that every time it took him back to the utterly helpless anger and fear he felt in those moments in the restaurant.

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openbottle
2015-03-31 12:32 pm UTC (link)

"Not really?" Seamus hazarded, because he hated lying to Dean, even when it was for his own good. Which it really had been. It didn't help that Seamus didn't particularly relish admitting to how stupid he'd been to take on Susan when they were both riled up. She could have done much worse than land him with a few splinters. On the other hand, flat out refusing to explain wouldn't help either. "Just the usual. Me being an idiot." Maybe Dean wouldn't press for details. Seamus didn't really think it likely, but he could hope.

He let his eyes closed as Dean sighed, though quickly opened them again when he started talking about Ophelia. Talking was good, Seamus knew that - and Battlescars had proved it over and over again. So though he didn't really want to hear it, Seamus didn't interrupt. Instead, he groped about for Dean's hand and laced their fingers together, squeezing hard. He hoped it helped Dean, because it didn't do anything to slow the solid wall of anger Seamus could feel building. He was half-tempted to leap back on his broom, fly to Dean's studio and find Ophelia - make her hurt the way she'd hurt Dean. He knew Susan had scared her already, but it wasn't enough. Fury was heavy in his stomach and weighed down his tongue, making it hard to spit the words out. "She should be fucking ashamed of herself," he choked out. "You were in a fucking war!" He pulled himself into a sitting position, shoulders tense and avoiding Dean's eyes.

"I can't-" He balled his free hand into a fist, still clinging to Dean with the other. "It wouldn't be normal if you -" As so often happened, anger made it harder for him to string a sentence together. "What did she think it was going to be like?" His mind seemed to fly in two directions at once - wanting to rail on Ophelia and how anyone could be so lacking in compassion while also wanting to reassure Dean that nothing she'd said was remotely close to reality. After a long moment where the air seemed to burn in Seamus's throat, he settled on the latter. "There is nothing fucking wrong with you," he insisted grimly. He'd said it before, and probably would again. "Nothing a decent person couldn't handle. You're as normal as me with this," he gestured up and down his side, "or Justin with his nightmares, or Susan with the scary ruthlessness." Granted, none of them had exactly had much relationship success - and that stray thought was enough to deflate Seamus's anger. He slumped forward against his knees. Maybe it really wasn't possible. Despite the weekly meetings and the dreamless sleep potions and the therapy. Maybe none of them would ever make it work long-term.

"You're brilliant," he insisted, still. "A hundred times better than her. I want to just - obliviate every memory of her." He shifted and lay back down on the grass, defeated, his head up near Dean's shoulder this time. "I won't," he promised. "I know it's not that easy." He turned his body slightly towards Dean. If they'd been in bed at home, he'd have curled up against him - but it didn't feel quite right on the grass like this, even though it was completely innocent. "Have you thought about making an appointment with - whoever?" Therapist, psychologist, Seamus had never completely got to grips with the various words. He knew that Dean saw someone, sometimes, and that it had helped. That was enough.

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artistdean
2015-03-31 07:19 pm UTC (link)

Making his very best attempt at a Susan-level of intimidation and disbelief Dean fixed his gaze on Seamus. "Well I can believe the idiot bit, but you're skipping something out. What is it?" he asked. He knew he fell several degrees short of anything Susan could manage, but he didn't really need to know every idiotic thing Seamus had ever done. Even if he wanted to.

Dean clung onto Seamus' hand. As much as therapy and Battlescars had got him used to talking it still wasn't always easy, especially in a private situation like this. He knew telling Seamus probably wasn't helping him stay calm at Ophelia, but he needed to get the words out.

"Seamus!" he said sharply, and then deflated, shaking his head. It wasn't like he wanted to defend her really. It had and did hurt like hell. "I know. She knows too. It's not actually what she said, and definitely not how she said it, but my nightmares twisted it," he said. "I'm not saying it doesn't hurt. Because believe me I am really pissed off, but she wasn't as bad as my nightmares made out. Maybe." He couldn't keep his half defence up though and he just shook his head, the words dying in his throat, squeezing Seamus' hand and trying to pull him back down, cold though it was lying on the ground. "She wouldn't have ever understood. And I'm glad I found out when I did. I mean the last date fucking sucked and I'm pretty sure the best bit of Valentine's isn't meant to be falling asleep with your best friend, but it was." Half of his best memories involved Seamus. More than.

"Some days I'd take you up on that, you know. Forget everything about her. Especially near the end, and since. Godric, if anyone could take away the things that cause nightmares they'd have a permanent fucking queue from our generation if nobody else," he said. He pulled his feet up, so his legs were bent at the knee, swinging idly into each other. "She didn't deserve me," he said quietly, trying to believe it, but sounding like he didn't. Sometimes it felt like he shouldn't inflict his problems on anyone else. He knew the danger of that thinking though. Frankly before his PTSD had been diagnosed, or his medication sorted, and he was at his worst he was amazed his friends had stuck by him, and he loved them all for it.

"Yeah, I'm about due for a check in anyway, but I should probably report the latest," he sighed again. "For now it's just taking my potion this week and making sure I use all my strategies." He shook his head. There was a time where all he had to worry about was what homework was due next, and maybe what idiocy sharing a room with Harry Potter was going to bring to the end of his school year. That was a long time ago now.

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openbottle
2015-04-01 12:56 pm UTC (link)

Seamus waved a hand in a transparently poor attempt at airy unconcern. "Susan and I were practicing our duelling. She, uh, exploded a door at me. I didn't shield fast enough." If he was going to admit that much, he figured he might as well keep going rather than having Dean have to drag the information from him. "We weren't in the best of moods." He held up a hand, hoping to forestall the lecture - though the way his heart sank into his stomach indicated he knew it wouldn't work. "And I've already admitted it was stupid. And I'm sorry for not telling you, but you were dealing with enough as it was, and Susan healed me up wit some dittany." He really was sorry, but he knew himself well enough to know he'd never have done it any differently.

"I hate that she got into your nightmares," Seamus said as he settled back against Dean. His anger had fled, leaving him more despairing than anything. He hated feeling helpless, knowing that there was nothing he could do to improve the situation other than to be there and help Dean wait it out. "She could have understood if she'd tried," he grumbled. "It's not like it's so fucking difficult." Neither he nor Susan had been through exactly Dean's situation, and neither of them would ever say they understood entirely - but understanding enough to treat him with the respect and compassion he deserved? That wasn't hard. That so many people seemed to fail at it made Seamus want to hit out at something, or give up on the world, or fight harder to make it a better place. Sometimes all three at once.

Propiety could go to hell, Seamus decided and he slung an arm across Dean's stomach in a gesture that was about half as limpet-like as usual. "You deserve better," he said, bitterness surging up from nowhere. "Better than second-hand cake and truffles and me." He wanted to say that next year they'd plan something better - but the whole point was that Deans plans were supposed to be with someone else, and Seamus couldn't do anything to make that happen. He shook his head slightly. "We have to remember the shit stuff or we won't learn from it - or something." He was pretty sure there was some grand psychological reason they couldn't all just wipe the memory of the war from one another's minds, even if he wasn't sure what that reason was.

"One of your strategies had better be me staying over tonight," he concluded. "I brought a toothbrush and everything." And they still had fish and chips to eat, when they could be bothered to apparate their sorry arses home.

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artistdean
2015-04-01 06:45 pm UTC (link)

"You duelled with Susan?" Dean asked pointedly. "Susan, our lovely but rather scary friend who is an Auror and basically takes down dark wizards and the worst criminals for a living? That Susan?" He assumed that Seamus had probably done this soon after he and Ophelia had split up, but even that didn't stop his voice rising in volume at the stupidity of that particular decision. "You absolute idiot. You could have been seriously injured. What the hell did you think that would have done to me feeling shitty about breaking up with my girlfriend when I find out my best friend is in St Mungo's and my other best friend put him there?" Honestly he was fairly sure Susan wouldn't have actually let it get that far, but he was very sure their duel was a overwhelmingly terrible idea. "Join a bloody gym and punch things instead of fighting Susan. Fuck you could get Dominic to set you up a punching bag in the Roost. Just please stop finding ways to hurt yourself?" he said, pleading slightly on the last sentence.

Swallowing, Dean shook his head gently, not sure what to say. "I don't think she wanted to try very hard. Didn't want a relationship where she actually took the trouble to- oh fuck her, it's too bloody depressing to think about," he said. "And yes, I hate that she got into my nightmares too. Maybe this one won't stick around." Not that Dean was too helpful on that front. It hadn't been his experience in recent years.

"Next year we'll aim for actual food," he joked, although that didn't sound like a bad idea if they were both still single. "I'd rather not remember the shit stuff, not that it isn't a life lesson or whatever," he said, waving a hand vaguely, sounding bitter.

He put his waving hand down on top of the arm Seamus had got slung around him and chuckled. "'Course it does. I'll even wear pyjamas!" Frankly right now a second body in his bed would be a huge comfort. Well, providing said body was Seamus. Susan might have managed in a pinch.

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openbottle
2015-04-01 07:43 pm UTC (link)

Seamus cringed, his face falling into an expression of total dismay. Dean yelling at him when he was trigged by something relatively inoffensive was bad enough, Dean shouting purely because of things Seamus had done was ten times worse. "I know," he whined. He was only too aware of how much worse things could have gone if Susan's spell had hit him rather than the door. "I didn't think she'd really try to hurt me, but she went into battle mode." He didn't feel right blaming it entirely on Susan - the duel had been his idea, and he'd drawn first blood (granted, it had been an accident). "Believe me, I don't want to go back to St Mungo's anymore than you want to see me there." He held up both arms so Dean could at least sort of see them. "I'm fine," he said quietly. "All healed up. But... I'll try." Somehow, no matter how obviously stupid the idea, he could never quite talk himself out of it.

He settled his arms back down when Dean's hand dropped onto one. "Best we can do is not think about it, I suppose," Seamus said, aware this went against his maxim of talking things through. But there was a time for that, and the rest of the time they just had to distract themselves as much as possible. Fortunately, Dean seemed willing to go along with that school of thought - Seamus didn't want to cut him off if the talking was helpful.

"Pyjamas!" He clasped one hand over his heart. "My prince." With a grunt, he hauled himself to his feet and held his hand out. "Come on, there's fish and chips waiting if you're ready."

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artistdean
2015-04-01 08:20 pm UTC (link)

He sighed heavily. He hated making Seamus feel bad and his face fell too, biting his lip because he felt guilty. He looked at Seamus' arms, relieved to see a lack of marks. He doubted that anything anybody said would stop him doing some of the daft things he thought of, but maybe sometimes he'd resist the urge. Maybe if Dean had a word with Susan too that might help, although there was no guarantee. "If you could knock off the duels with Susan I'd appreciate it," he said after a bit of a silence.

Snorting at Seamus' dramatic moment he groaned slightly and pushed himself up far enough that Seamus' hand up would help. "Fish and chips sounds bloody brilliant right now," he said, shaking himself a bit to re-settle himself. "You bringing your broom back to my place or are you dropping it off at your Mum's?" he asked, bending and retrieving his own broom from where he'd fallen off it.

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openbottle
2015-04-01 09:06 pm UTC (link)

Seamus nodded seriously, pushing his curls back from his face a muddy hand. "Yeah, I won't be doing that again," he agreed, wincing. "It... got a bit out of control." He really did hope he'd remember, or at least that he'd pick someone with more restraint to duel against. He wasn't going to make it any worse for Dean with more details, though, so he pushed the thought aside for the moment.

"I'll bring it back to your place, for now," he decided. If it was there, maybe they'd going flying together again sooner than they'd been averaging lately. Realising that going home meant apparating, Seamus sighed and tried to steel himself for the return trip. The flight had certainly cleared his head, but he was still expecting to get back to Dean's pretty drained.

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artistdean
2015-04-01 09:27 pm UTC (link)

Dean resisted the urge to comment on Seamus' definition of 'a bit' out of control, because he had a strong feeling that it probably wouldn't match his own definition. "Yeah, well, I've seen Susan mad, I can't imagine her duelling is any less... intimidating."

He nodded in agreement and offered Seamus his arm. "You want me to apparate you back are you good?" he asked. It had been a while since they came and he wasn't sure if Seamus was recovered enough to get himself back. Especially since Dean would be Side-Alonging someone back again without a huge amount of recovery time if he wasn't ready. At least there would be reviving food at the other end whatever the decision.

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openbottle
2015-04-02 12:56 pm UTC (link)

Maybe next time Seamus would have the patience to wait until duelling club, with its healers and its safeguards and the higher chance of being paired with someone less deadly. For now, he was content to drop the subject and hope Dean would be able to forget it. He was fine now, that was what mattered, and no trip to St Mungo's had been necessary.

After going to pick up his broom from where he'd left it, he returned to pat Dean's arm but shook his head. "I'll do it. No use tiring the both of us out." He knew he was in good enough condition that he wasn't likely to splinch himself, especially not when the destination was somewhere so familiar. "Let me go first, just in case." Otherwise Dean would have to apparate back to find out what happened to him and then they'd both be stuck. He screwed his eyes shut and concentrated for a long moment before finally disappearing with a far louder bang than he usually liked.

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artistdean
2015-04-02 03:47 pm UTC (link)

"Oh good," Dean said with quiet relief. He knew he technically could take Seamus back he had a feeling it wouldn't be the best plan. "Sure, sure," he said, waving Seamus off and wincing when the sound of his disappearance was rather louder than expected. He hoped he was okay.

Taking a fortifying breath Dean concentrated on his bedroom and stepped out into the nothingness, arriving moments later and feeling a little unsteady. He was basically fine, just feeling slightly tired. He set down his broom and called out to Seamus. "I'm good, are you good?"

He quickly kicked off his boots and headed back to the main room, shucking his jacket and dropping it over the back of the sofa.

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openbottle
2015-04-02 05:13 pm UTC (link)

It was probably only Seamus's imagination, but the apparition seemed to last far longer than usual, like he had to actually fight his way through the blackness that briefly consumed him. Again, he stumbled on arrival, this time tripping over nothing, or his own feet, and breathing hard. He felt dizzy and had to lean against the wall for a moment to keep from falling.

Dean arrived before Seamus had totally recovered himself, but he nodded anyway. "Fine." He wasn't really hurt - the food and some rest would definitely fix it. "Might skip the cider, though," he made a face and crossed the short distance to Dean's couch, collapsing onto the whole length of it. He could easily fall asleep right now, except that it would be rude and he'd miss out on chips.

"I brought food all the way from Ireland, so you're in charge of bringing it over here to me," he decided, looking at Dean from where he was lying on the couch. "Please," he added for good measure.

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artistdean
2015-04-02 09:30 pm UTC (link)

Dean rolled his eyes, taking in the flopped status of Seamus on his sofa. "Yeah, okay. I've got coke, which could reasonably have come from the chip shop," he said. He stood over Seamus, shaking his head at him. "Sure, I'll be your servant, just for a minute," he said.

He went over to where Seamus had left the magically warmed food and grabbed a couple of cans of coke from the fridge, the two packs of fish and chips and two plates just in case. Not that he expected Seamus to want to use them, but sometimes the fish and chips were a bit floppy.

"Budge over," he said, looming over Seamus again, brandishing the retrieved items. "I need to sit and you need to sit up to eat, we are not Romans."

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openbottle
2015-04-05 10:36 am UTC (link)

"I'd be a great Roman," Seamus grumbled as he sat up, though his knowledge of whatever muggle Roman culture Dean was referencing was exactly zero. He'd covered Egyptians, Tudors and Celts in his muggle primary school, but not Rome. "I can lie here and you can feed me grapes."

Once he was properly sitting up, he made grabby hands until Dean gave him his magically warmed food. Then, once Dean had taken a seat himself, Seamus slumped companionably against him as he munched on chips. He watched Dean's hands as they unwrapped his own portion, not able to look up at his face from this position. "We should do that more often," he said.

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artistdean
2015-04-05 02:14 pm UTC (link)

Dean snorted, he honestly couldn't imagine Seamus staying still long enough for anyone to feed him grapes. He'd just fidgit. "Yeah, that'll happen," he said, sarcastically. The whole lying down to eat thing really wasn't appealing, although at least the Romans generally aimed for recline on the side not 'will choke yourself if you're not careful' aka on your back.

Passing over Seamus' food and drink and sticking the plates on the coffee table since they seemed likely to go unused he glanced down at Seamus as he spoke again. "Flying or me needing to get out of my head because I got wound up? Because if you mean the second one I'll pass, but the flying was good." He waved a chip briefly before putting it in his mouth. "Although I could have done without the crashing, but it's my own fault."

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openbottle
2015-04-07 01:29 pm UTC (link)

Seamus stuck his lower lip out at Dean's sarcasm. "What?" he asked, reaching for a chip to pop into his mouth and then realising he had to finish it before he could continue. "Am I not pretty enough to have adoring companions looking after my nutritional needs?" He didn't know why 'pretty' came into it all of a sudden, though it did occur to him that Dean more or less already filled the described role, what with the leaving him food and prompting him to eat regularly.

"Flying, obviously," he added, through another mouthful of chip. "I don't want the other thing." He poked Dean's side with salty fingers before licking them clean. "And I have no pity for your self-inflicted injuries." This was palpably untrue, but it sounded like the kind of thing Susan would say. Seamus was just as capable of getting himself worked up over something Dean had done to himself as something that had been the work of outside forces.

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artistdean
2015-04-07 05:45 pm UTC (link)

The exaggerated pout made Dean's face break out in a grin, eyes lighting up at his ridiculous friend. "Oh, no," he reassured with amusement after he'd finished his mouthful. "Plenty pretty enough, look at all these curls," he said, blowing slightly through Seamus' hair. Normally he'd run his hands through it, but with greasy hands that seemed like a horrible plan. "No, what I meant is you'd never stay still long enough for someone to feed you grapes!" he said, very pleased with himself.

Dean twitched hard to the side as Seamus poked him, batting vaguely at his hand. He was about to say something but was distracted momentarily by Seamus licking his fingers, not quite sure why it was suddenly so fascinating. "I really enjoyed the flying," he said, slouching down more into the sofa. "Maybe another time we could do a little less furious racing, take a quaffle with us and toss it around." He wouldn't suggest a full blown quidditch game but the two of them messing around would be fun. Not that he couldn't imagine them possibly ending up wrestling over the ball, but slightly less crashing into either trees or the ground would be good.

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