Dean laughed, feigning a look of shocked hurt at the "fuck off". As if he hadn't heard it a million times before. He pouted for a moment, and then gave up the sham, leaning back in the chair to sip as his drink, dragging this one out a bit more, now that Seamus wasn't on him to chug it down.
"Yeah? Who do you hear it from? Never actually heard of anyone GETTING one into bed. . . well not a full one, anyway." Since Bill must have gotten Fleur into bed. "What did you hear they do, anyway? I mean, they're either weird bird things or girls, yeah? So either they do the same things girls do, or they do something birds do. Which I don't bloody want to have in bed with me, thanks." Dean would rather watch from a distance than try to shag a harpy. Besides, Fleur had been pretty, but she'd seemed the sort who would take loads to impress. In bed or out. Too much pressure.
Dean slumped down in the seat enough to kick Seamus in the ankle anyway - he had longer legs. He wouldn't have bothered if he hadn't heard Seamus skittering his feet out of the way. "Your way's only the right way about once a year."