||[May. 12th, 2006|12:21 am]
title: Cold Hands|
rating: ...PG? PG-13? Slight innuendo and some fluffy goodness but nothing dirty.
Written for sara_shunu's Pick-up Line Challenge.
Seamus was the most unabashedly cheesy person Dean had ever met. Dean had suspected this was the case for quite awhile before he had conclusive evidence.
He’d always had a feeling, for example, that Seamus would be the type to use really horrible pick-up lines, but he hadn’t ever thought that he’d be on the receiving end of them.
Seamus had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas their seventh year, he and his mother weren’t on the best of terms between his insistence on staying for Dumbledore’s funeral and his even stronger insistence on coming back to Hogwarts for his seventh year. So he stayed at Hogwarts and Dean did, as well, because, well, it wouldn’t be right to be stuck at school over Christmas without your best mate.
Or because the prospect of the two having the dorm room all to themselves (it still felt strange not to have Harry and Ron there) over break was far too tempting to Dean, who was fervently denying to himself that this had anything to do with his decision because, well, it wouldn’t be right to fancy your best mate.
On Christmas day, after lunch, Seamus decided they needed to "enjoy the weather", meaning the two-day-old snow, and the two bundled up and headed outside. The snow was a bit dirty at this point, even though there weren’t many people around to mess it up too much, and the top had frozen over slightly so they mode loud crunching noises as they walked.
Seamus hadn’t wanted to go out in the snow when it was fresh and white and powdery. Dean knew why. Couldn’t be easy, not being at home on Christmas because you felt as if suddenly, after all these years, you wouldn’t be welcome. Or at least knew that wouldn’t feel welcome. So Seamus wanted to go out in the snow today and have a childish snowball fight and pretend everything was the way it should be. He hadn’t told Dean this and he didn’t have to; sometimes Dean thought he might just understand Seamus better than Seamus did.
So they walked around a bit and had a snowball fight like they hadn’t had since they were about twelve and it ended, somehow, with Dean in rather awkward position: on top of Seamus, whom he’d tackled to the ground at the end of their fight. And there had been a split second where Seamus was laughing up at him before Dean had leant down and kissed him.
It was after that that he’d regained the power of thought and stood quickly, unable to look Seamus in the eye or to give him a hand to help him get up out of the snow.
They walked back to the castle in silence, and Dean could tell that Seamus was trying to catch his eye, but Dean just couldn’t manage to look over at him. He didn’t know what the consequences would be, but he didn’t much fancy his odds at having them be positive.
At least Seamus hadn’t run off or hit him or some such thing. That had to be a good thing.
Dean was rather off in his own little world of self-pity when they finally reached Gryffindor tower. He dropped his wet scarf to the floor and had his coat about half off before he was up against a wall with Seamus pressed against him. And wasn’t this an interesting development?
Seamus’s lips were chapped and still a bit cool and his nose was freezing but Dean decided, as he kissed him back, that he really didn’t mind. He wasn’t entirely sure it would have been right for Seamus to have smooth, soft lips, anyway.
Then Seamus pulled back just enough to say what was, without a doubt, the cheesiest damn thing Dean had ever had directed at him: "My hands are cold. Can I warm them down your trousers?"
It was the first thing either of them had said since Dean had kissed him in the snow.
There was a hint of a smile but other than that Seamus seemed completely serious and possibly even slightly nervous (and the smile was probably an attempt to hide that nervousness) but Dean couldn’t help but laugh as he finally moved to push his coat off the rest of the way.
"Are you kidding me?"
Seamus’s smile grew and he reached for the hem of Dean’s shirt, causing him to yelp and jump as the blonde put his hands palm-down on Dean’s stomach.
"Merlin, they’re freezing, Seamus!"
Luckily his hands got plenty warm before they were anything like down Dean’s trousers.
x-posted to my journal and deamus