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Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Seamus's smile was more a brief twitch of his lips than anything, but he snorted dutifully as he tried to imagine Dean with fluffy, feathering wings sprouting from his shoulders. "Nah," he said. "You're too much fun to be a real angel." He didn't move from his position, afraid that if he sat on anything as comfortable as the couch he wouldn't be able to resist falling asleep again.

"Anything I can do?" He didn't feel up to much, but nor was it in his nature to just stand around and do nothing while Dean cooked. The only reason Dean managed to get away with providing food as often as he did was because he did the actual cooking of it at home. "At least it's all over for another year," he said, chewing his lip since he didn't have any mint handy. "Bring on the best bit of the year."