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Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Snickering, Seamus nodded. His being brown would confuse him, let alone Dean. He'd never really thought he'd suit it - though Graeme did occasionally come back from holiday looking tanned and despite their different mothers they did have similar colouring. "Good to know you don't expect your friends to commit hours to a tanning bed just to stay in your good graces," he teased.

"You're still wrong." It was something Seamus had said sporadically for years, ever since they were eleven. He didn't really mean it. Now he lived in London he didn't feel quite so bad that his own allegiance had slowly drifted to West Ham - at least as far as English football teams went.

Seamus grinned as broadly as if he'd never heard Dean say those exact words before. He had, of course. With as often as they'd been here, how could he not? "Good memories too. Do you remember that girl you had your eye on who would not take the hint that I wasn't interested?" That had been... Seamus couldn't even remember. Before the war, before he came out. He'd pushed her away because he knew Dean fancied her, but also because he'd been pretty apathetic about her upturned nose and artificially pink cheeks.