InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'm saving that for you."

Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-07-31 12:15:00

Entry tags:

character: dean thomas, character: seamus finnigan, status: complete

Delivery
Who: Seamus and Dean
What: Delivery of milk
Where: Dean's studio
When: Friday 31st July, 11.45ish
Rating: SFW for now

Seamus wasn't technically working the opening shift, but that didn't mean he wasn't there, greeting his staff, checking everyone had what they needed. He'd replenished the unbreakable charms on the glasses until his wrist started to hurt with the repeated wand movement and he reached for his journal. That was when he saw Dean's message - to Bryony, but not warded. Seamus didn't think too much of it, but ten minutes later found him in the kitchen, 'stealing' a pint of milk and making up some baguette sandwiches. Dean had mentioned that someone in Bryony's immediate family was getting married, and Seamus couldn't remember the date but it was possible she'd be too busy to make deliveries.

He apparated into the common area of the studio and, finding it empty, headed to Dean's room. He knocked, quietly. If Dean had been working through the night, as his message implied he might, he might well have crashed by now and Seamus didn't want to wake him.

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openbottle
2015-08-25 10:11 am UTC (link)

"Better not try, then," Seamus advised. "Or you'll scare her away for good and then you'll go back to having to make your own coffee." He looked around the room, at the bare concrete walls and rough ceiling and floor. "It must be weird for her," he mused. He didn't know much about Bryony, but judging by her clothes and what Dean had mentioned about her manners he suspected she came from one of those uptight, upper class pureblood families. "This probably isn't the kind of space she's used to."

Seamus snorted. "I don't think you have a pretentious bone in your body," he said honestly. "Except maybe when you go on about paint colours." Dean mostly talked about his art in terms Seamus could understand, though maybe he talked more technically to people like Braith who could actually understand what he was saying.

Reaching for the sausage sandwich, Seamus shrugged slightly. "Good point," he admitted. "And I'm also hugely biased." Dean would be the best artist Seamus knew even if Seamus met and befriended Picasso or Monet. Dean was pretty much the best person Seamus knew. He was at least willing to admit the bias, which made it more reasonable in his mind. "I'll make a note," he added dryly. He'd already sorted Dean's birthday presents this year, but maybe for Christmas...

Seamus managed to simultaneously laugh and roll his eyes at the predictable joke. "If anything, you would think my wrist would be strengthened by plenty of healthy exercise," he complained. "I should be able to enchant glasses for days." He slumped against Dean's side, pouting. "It's been six months."

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artistdean
2015-08-25 02:09 pm UTC (link)

He gave an amused snort and nodded. "Yeah, wasn't planning on it. Even if I don't exactly mind making my own coffee," he said. He tilted his head in confusion as Seamus continued until he explained. He eyed the walls and the splattered paint everywhere that it was pointless to clear up, the slight damp patches and the mis-matched tables. "I'm not entirely sure what her background is, not my business, you know? But it probably is a bit. Pretty sure she comes from money though, and I know she doesn't know much about Muggle life," he said.

Dean sighed with exaggeration, it was an exchange they'd had before. "And I've told you before it's not pretentious when I'm a professional and I'm just being accurate," he said, still smiling. He knew that if he really wanted he could be pretentious about art, but quite frankly he'd never felt that way and possibly less so now that it was actually his job.

"Of course you are," he said and did a little wriggling dance, very pleased. "I'm awesome!" He chuckled at himself and then took a huge bite of the sandwich, moaning happily at the flavour. "W's jokin'" he said, but it was mostly muffled through food and he wouldn't actually protest.

He sniggered to start with, until Seamus started pouting and slumping into his side. Offering to help him out with that problem would be a terrible idea. He could also mention it had been about six months for him too, but he'd always been far less bothered by a lack of sex in his life than Seamus. Partly due to his cycling libido and partly because he was generally happy enough to wank instead. "Sorry, dude," he said sympathetically. "Men are dicks."

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openbottle
2015-08-28 08:41 am UTC (link)

"That's more or less what I thought," Seamus agreed. He knew her less than Dean, but he had a pretty good grasp of old pureblood manners, even if his mother's family had never really followed them too closely. They were more like a clan of Irish Weasley than the Malfoys, and hadn't been technically pureblood for a few generations now.

Seamus cracked up laughing at Dean's little dance. "Oh, you are too happy," he complained. "Your work really must be going well." He shifted a tiny bit away from Dean on the couch to give him space to flail his limbs around without catching Seamus around the back of the head. "Awesome and dangerous," he muttered, pushing one of Dean's hands closer to his side and out of the way.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head as Dean tried to externalise the problem. "It's not men, it's me." He hadn't really tried with anyone, since Justin. Even Martin - he'd talked a lot about wanting to, and tried to find some way to explain it, but in the end he'd chickened out and called the relationship off rather than risk seeing the disgust he expected. "Can't complain when I'm not trying to get laid, can I?"

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artistdean
2015-08-28 01:28 pm UTC (link)

"Nope, well, yes it's going well, but this is part sleep deprivation," he said, slouching down the sofa a bit between bites. He rolled his eyes and theatrically pulled his arms in so he wouldn't flail and hit Seamus, even though he'd stopped dancing. He wanted to carry on eating anyway, and at this rate he was going to lose sandwich filling. And that would just be sad.

The sigh Dean gave was as small as he could make it, but still somewhat obvious. "You can." Normally he'd make some sort of reassurance to give Seamus, but he couldn't quite form the words. "I complain about my potions and..." he trailed off, not quite sure where that comparison was going to be helpful. "No, scratch that, just plain complaining about lack of sex is totally valid." He thought if Seamus could try without being worried about his scar (which Dean thought he shouldn't worry about anyway, or at least not anywhere as much as he did) he would be getting a lot of action. Even before he'd realised that he wanted Seamus he'd been able to appreciate that he was attractive.

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openbottle
2015-09-14 12:24 pm UTC (link)

Seamus shrugged, disagreeing but not really bothered enough to defend his position. "I'm not a teenage girl. I don't expect someone to ride up on a fiery steed and whisk me off into the sunset. If I want someone, I have to actually do something about it... and I'm not. So no complaining. It's my own fault, and if it bothers me I should fix it." Perhaps he was being overly hard on himself, but it made sense to him. If he wasn't taking action, going out to meet people, asking people out, then it was no one's fault but his own that he was eternally single. He'd had Martin, briefly, and then he'd been the one to break it off. "Anyway. Complaining doesn't achieve anything."

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artistdean
2015-09-14 04:06 pm UTC (link)

Dean's immediate thought was that was a brilliant image and he really wanted to paint it. A knight on a horse made of fire riding up to rescue a tiny prince or princess. Possibly the princess didn't even need rescuing. But his little art sideline wasn't helpful to the conversation. But it was probably inevitable given how much his mind wandered when he was tired.

He just breathed for a few seconds and pondered his words. In the end he just hummed in what could be though of as agreement, or simply that he was listening. The idea of Seamus going out and finding someone else was just that little bit too painful for Dean to encourage it actively.

"Thanks for bringing food," he said after a little while. He liked it when Seamus was looking after him, and when he could return the favour too. It was just so automatic now.

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