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Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

"Maybe," Seamus agreed. He really did believe that talking things over with friends helped, or he believed it was supposed to help, one or the other and some days it was hard to tell which. Still, it was a hard rule to apply to his own life. There was always some very very good reason for just locking all the words up inside himself - whether it was that he didn't want to worry people, or because he didn't want to say anything against Justin to Dean who could and should and probably would still be friends with him. "I want something more with someone," Seamus complained, hating how pitiful he sounded. He'd dated a handful of men, had sex with fewer and had never had anyone he could call a boyfriend. As much as he loved his friends, and his job, and the community, he still sometimes felt he was missing out on the great answer to 'what do we live for?'. "But... I don't know. I didn't take the chance when I could have, did I? So either I was scared or I didn't really believe it would work. Or both. Or neither. You know what my head's like - even I don't understand what's going on in there half the time."

Seamus laughed as their minds ran, without prompting, down the same exact track. "Not like I can," he said, smirking. "Dennis still calls me 'princess'. You do a nice old hag, though." He patted Dean's knee, just because it happened to be within reach, then nodded - the motion minimised so as not to dislodge Dean's hand. "That'd be good. You and me and Disney makes three and we can forget all the grown-up stuff for a few hours."