InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'm a nice amoeba"

Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-08-24 00:52:00

Entry tags:

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

RP: Even more of a birthday surprise than was anticipated
Who: Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan
What: Seamus delivers Dean's birthday presents. Dean forgets his birthday
Where: Dean's bedroom (tiny bit of Towpath Studios)
When: Morning, Monday 24th August
Rating: NSFW - Swearing and small amount of poorly consented sexual-ish content (check with players if you want more details)

Despite a few slow periods when he was literally watching or waiting for paint to dry the past month had been an incredibly busy one for Dean. His sudden breakthrough during a bout of sleeplessness had catapulted him head first into almost a month of working on a test run for his Nightmare project. People grumbling at the price of his work could be directed at just how long wizarding art could take in addition to the actual painting time.

All the painting, and masking, and waiting had finally come to a close in the early hours of Monday morning when he'd been unable to sleep at midnight and had decided to go and check on the drying progress of the final layer. Upon discovering it was dry he'd set about doing the spell work to bring everything to life.

He had finally, finally finished in the early hours of the morning, watching for several tense minutes as the piece moved its way through the first of many, many repetitions of its final form. There were a few little niggles he had with it, but it had basically worked and he could easily fix those in the final piece. He'd jumped for joy and danced around his studio for a solid ten minutes before realising he was absolutely exhausted, all the hours he had spent working and worrying about how it would go finally crashing down on him in a complete lack of adrenaline.

He had made a very careful check he'd finalised his spells and closed up his studio again, leaving the piece on prominent view to remind himself of his success when he came back later. Or possibly the next day. Such success deserved a reward.

Said reward was sleep. He didn't even bother showering when he got home, just stripped off his clothes where he stood and crawled under his duvet. He was asleep within minutes, snoring softly.

Not once in all of this did he remember that it was his birthday and he was likely to get a visitor. A visitor for whom he usually made a concession to at least underwear in bed.

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openbottle
2015-08-24 12:26 am UTC (link)

Seamus wriggled at the prod from the spurtle, the movement bringing him a little closer still. He'd always loved making Dean laugh, and knowing he could still do that helped him lock away the painful realisations of the morning. He could still be something, do something, for his best friend. Even if it wasn't what he'd thought he could do, it was better than nothing. "Prat who still has a present to give you," he pointed out, pulling his wand from his pocket to summon the last present - unwilling to give up the ground he'd gained in his shift towards Dean. "A present I'm willing to hold hostage." He watched Dean wipe the tears away and shrugged. "S'okay," he said, his shoulder moving in the same way it would if he were nudging Dean. He knew the tears meant Dean liked it, and understood what Seamus had been trying to do. He couldn't really ask for more than that.

"Last one," he said, handing over the hat that would complete Dean's 1920s outfit. He'd considered telling Dean to wait to open it, but in the end couldn't bring himself to pique Dean's curiosity that way.

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artistdean
2015-08-24 12:27 am UTC (link)

Dean brought a finger to his lips with pantomime levels of overacting to show he was keeping his words to himself if it was going to stop him getting his last present. When Seamus 'nudged' at thin air he looked at him carefully from the corner of his eye before doing an inelegant shuffle sideways so they were just barely touching. Mostly one of the knees from his crossed legs was poking into Seamus' outstretched legs, a layer of duvet and jeans between them. When he didn't jump back from the touch a small amount of the knot in Dean's stomach unravelled.

He took the final package, removing his finger from his lips to do so and submitted it to the usual prodding and poking which mostly revealed that it was largely soft, but seemed unlikely to be clothes because of the size and random stiff parts. He shrugged at his complete lack of guess and ripped into the paper, completely surprised at the hat that emerged. He frowned slightly at Seamus and then tried it on. Thankfully it seemed to fit. He took it off again and examined it. "Golfing hat?" he asked, thoroughly confused. "Not that I don't like it," he added - being rather taken with the colour for one thing - "but I'm just a bit confused. Does it have protective spells on it or something?" Dean was turning the hat around and around in his hands, examining it with his eyes and fingers trying to work out what Seamus meant by this gift. Not that he had to mean anything, it was a good hat, just a touch unexpected. Susan was usually the one to give clothing. Well, clothing that wasn't some huge joke.

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