Seamus Finnigan (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} openbottle) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
Seamus shook his head, not taken in by Susan's attempt at trickery. "Ten days is not a fortnight, Bones. Two weeks." He grinned at the idea of two blissful weeks without Susan nagging at either of them to 'admit' or 'realise' their feelings. He leaned back comfortably against Dean's leg, making full use of the extra space Dean had helpfully provided and looked at her - feeling smug. There was no way she could go two weeks without mentioning it. "You love us too much not to talk to us for two weeks. Besides, where would you drink?"
He rolled his eyes and tipped his head back, unknowingly mimicking Dean's absorption with the charmed ceiling. "Apparently everyone gets naked in my flat. And yet there's still no sex happening. What a waste." He waved away Susan's explanation, not liking to remember the awful wait while Ernie and Hannah had seen to her. They were supposed to be thinking happy thoughts, like Peter Pan. "That was not an invitation for anyone, other than me, to have sex in my flat!" he added hurriedly.
The leg he'd curled under him was beginning to tingle with pins and needles so Seamus kicked it back out, framing his handiwork with two bars of denim. He should probably have worn shorts... He wasn't sure he actually owned shorts, but he could have transfigured something. He reached up for Dean's hand, giving it a squeeze that was meant to say no one here is going to throw sand on you. Dean would know what he meant.