Title: Days in a Life

Author: frkwerewolf

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Dean/Seamus, with an OMC that is supposedly "helping Dean".

Rating: PG-13

Summary: In which days go by, and Dean begins to realize a few things.

Notes: for Round 2. prompt: Dean/Seamus, Dean realizes he's gay. requested by mschneider . This does not include HBP.

---

It was a Tuesday and Dean had just realized he was gay. It wasn't as startling as one would think and the cause for this realization, well, it wasn't the most satisfying moment. In fact the revelation came so suddenly and so gently, that Dean was shocked that he realized it at all. But then, he was more the type to think in long detail instead of talk and ignore his inner ramblings. He left the babbling to Seamus.

"What are you wearing?" Dean managed to ask, watching as his best friend tugged at one of the buckles on his pants. His leather bondage pants. At least, that's what they looked like to Dean.

"Don't you like them?" Seamus asked, sliding his hands down his hips and across his arse. Dean blinked and looked away, cheeks flushing.

"They... Well, they aren't really you." Dean admitted.

"How can they not be?" Seamus demanded, turning his backside toward his mirror. "Look at how they hug my arse!"

"And a lovely one it is." The mirror informed him. Dean tried to not agree, but... Well, he was such a homosexual, because Seamus' arse really did look nice in that tight leather.

"Where are you going anyway?" Dean found himself asking as Seamus grabbed his school robes and threw them over his leather pants and nearly see through top. Dean fought down the urge to pull the robes back off, to reveal the sight once more to the room.

"Oh, I'm meeting that Zabini fellow on the second floor." Seamus replied easily. He sent Dean a saucy grin, before darting out of the room with a wave. "Don't wait up!"

It was a Thursday and Dean had spent the past week trying to not be jealous of Seamus' easy going trysts into the land of sensual pleasure. He also tried to not be agitated by Neville Longbottom's ability to state the obvious.

"Do you suppose he's... You know... With those guys?" Neville asked one evening, sitting on his bed and staring up at the ceiling in thought. Dean glanced at Harry, who had poked his head out from underneath his bed where he had lost his last quill.

"Could be." Harry replied breathlessly as he crawled out. Dean was thankful, for that one moment of Harry's arse being in the air, that he didn't find Harry's lanky frame attractive. He was having enough trouble watching Ron walk around with only his boxers on. "It would explain why he's so bloody perky all the time."

"This isn't-" Dean began.

"I'll never understand that bloke's fascination with, well, blokes." Ron interrupted, loudly. Dean's eyes widened as Ron stretched his hands above his head, causing the boxers to slide lower on his hips.

"This isn't-" Dean started, more firmly this time.

"It is rather intriguing." Neville commented softly, before blushing bright red. "Not that I... Err..."

"Oh, no one cares, Neville." Harry said, cheerfully.

"This is hardly-" Dean attempted to start.

"Hello, boys!" Seamus beamed as he bounded into the room, Hogwarts robes billowing behind him and his hair standing on end. If Dean looked closely he could see a dark hickey forming under his chin. However, Dean chose to not look closely.

"So?" Harry asked with an expression that stated he needed to know in order survive, or even breathe. "Who was it this time?"

"Ohhh, no one in particular." Seamus said, vaguely, as he plopped down on his bed. Dean scowled within the confines of his own bed.

"Honestly, you really should take it easy, Seamus." Ron stated, with a slight smirk. "At the rate you're going you'll be buggering the mandrakes come spring."

"Mandrakes do know how to party." Neville commented, shyly. Ron eyed him with a sense of shock, before rolling his eyes.

"This is hardly an appropriate conversation." Dean finally managed to say.

"Who cares?" Ron asked. "Shagging is shagging and, Seamus, I demand to hear every detail."

Dean fell back onto his bed and cursed the day he realized he was gay as Seamus did just as Ron asked. He told every single, tiny, insignificant detail of his evening. At one point, he even replayed the sounds his random date had made.

It was a Saturday morning and most of Gryffindor Tower was already awake. Everyone, that is, except Seamus. Dean stood in front of his best friend's bed, watching as he snored and shifted around, causing the sheets to slide lower and lower. Dean blinked back shock when he realized Seamus was sleeping in the nude.

Glancing away, Dean cleared his throat. He was determined to not let Seamus sleep most of Saturday morning, while Dean was forced to be wide awake. Reaching out blindly, he poked Seamus sharply in the side. Seamus grunted and rolled over. Dean tried at that moment to not look, he really did. But the temptation was far too strong and Dean found his eyes trailing across the red sheets until they simply stopped...

Dean gulped. He wasn't staring at Seamus' bare arse. He wasn't. Because in all reality, Seamus arse should have been covered up by some form of underwear. Taking a deep breath, Dean forced himself to stare at something on the ceiling and reached forward to give Seamus another hard jab.

"Ugh... Huh... What?" Seamus mumbled, blinking open his eyes.

"It's time to get up." Dean ordered.

"But it's a Saturday!" Seamus protested, sitting up and stretching his arms to the ceiling. Dean bit his lip.

"And it's nine in the morning. You've slept in long enough." Dean informed him, turning away as Seamus got out of bed without a drop of modesty. Dean tried to not think about his nude best friend, standing right behind him. "If you get up now, you can still catch a late breakfast."

"Yeah, yeah." Seamus mumbled, brushing past him and giving Dean a perfect view of his arse. Dean watched him disappear into the washroom, before sitting down on the bed with a thump. He had to get that image out of his mind before Seamus came back.

"I'm not attracted to my best friend." Dean whispered to himself. "He's just attractive and I'm gay. I'm bound to notice that sort of thing. But I'm not actually interested in him!"

It was Sunday afternoon and Dean had just realized he was indeed attracted to Seamus Finnigan. It wasn't his fault, of course. He knew before hand that he found Seamus' body one to be desired, it just wasn't until that moment in time that he realized his personality was rather adorable as well.

"You don't think it was my fault, do you?" Seamus asked, chewing on his lower lip. "I mean, I did all I could!"

"I'm sure it wasn't, Seamus." Dean replied, utterly mortified by the conversation. Yet he was still amused by Seamus' reaction.

"You're right!" Seamus nodded. "It's not my fault he couldn't rise to the occasion. I'm one sexy beast. I tried everything I could. He's the one with the problem!"

"Of course." Dean said, trying to ignore the sudden glint developing in Seamus' eye.

"I just need to prove to him that it wasn't my fault." Seamus stated, eyes darting around the library.

"I really don't-" Dean started.

"I mean, he's probably just fooling himself." Seamus interrupted. "Maybe he thought that he was gay. You know, I tend to have that effect on people."

At that particular moment, Dean knew he should have been frustrated by Seamus' never-ending ego. Maybe it was because he had known Seamus since he was eleven years old and therefore knew everything there was to know about him. He knew about the pink underwear his uncle bought him. He knew that Seamus' first kiss had been from Gregory Goyle. He also knew about the time that Seamus had sex behind Hagrid's Hut, which left him uncomfortable in Care of Magical Creatures for the duration of their fifth grade year.

With all this information, it was difficult to view Seamus' ego as something bad. It was just part of what Seamus was. A ball of roaring energy and pure sexual attraction. Sexual attraction that Dean was having a lot of difficulty avoiding.

"Where is he, anyway?" Seamus asked, craning his neck to look around one of the bookshelves.

"Well, I don't know." Dean replied, before pausing. "Who are we talking about again?"

"Pay attention, Dean!" Seamus ordered. "We're only talking about Zacharias bloody Smith!"

"..." Dean watched as Seamus scrunched up his nose before speaking. "If you don't even like him, then why did you go out with him?"

"Because who am I to turn a fellow down?" Seamus asked, shrugging.

"You could do so much better, Seamus." Dean said to him, his voice serious.

"That's sweet." Seamus beamed. It was, of course, at that moment that Dean realized he was attracted to Seamus in more ways that one. The dimple appearing in his left cheek as he grinned caused Dean to develop a slow smile, eyes focused only on Seamus' face. "Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Dean replied, looking away.

It was a Tuesday and Dean found himself having a conversation with Seamus that he would have loved to avoided for all eternity.

"Dean, man, you okay?" Seamus' voice sounded concerned, which caused a series of butterflies to erupt inside Dean's stomach.

"Sure." Dean replied.

"Are you sure you're sure?" Seamus asked.

"Very sure, Seamus." Dean sighed.

"Okay, good..." Seamus was silent for a moment. "...Hey, Dean?"

"Yes, Seamus?"

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

"What?" Dean blinked back his shock, stopping in the middle of the crowded hallway. Some shoved him from behind, pushing him against Seamus and into the wall. Pulling away, Dean ducked into a nearby classroom.

"It's just a question..." Seamus said, almost timidly. Except Seamus never did anything timidly, unless it was something that he was worried about. Which only served to make Dean even more nervous.

"I realize that, Seamus." Dean took a deep breath. "And to answer your question, I've never really desired a girlfriend."

"Oh..." Seamus narrowed his eyes. "Meaning?"

"Just let it go, Seamus." Dean ordered. Seamus began to develop his stubborn look, which caused his lips to purse and his eyes to never blink. Dean contemplated running, so he wouldn't have to have this conversation.

It wasn't that he was afraid to tell Seamus about being gay. Seamus himself was probably bisexual, if he even narrowed down to that category. In fact, Seamus would probably find Dean fretting over the whole affair rather amusing. But Dean wasn't a very open person and to talk about this to his best friend, who had a very big mouth and could never keep a secret, was a little overwhelming.

"You've been acting out of sorts for a while now, Dean." Seamus informed him. "I have noticed it. I want to know what's wrong."

"It's not important." Dean insisted. Seamus merely stared at him, indicating that he was fully prepared to stand there for eternity. With a frustrated sigh, Dean turned away from him. "I've just been... Realizing a couple of things is all."

"Like what?" He could feel Seamus taking a step closer to him.

"It's just..." Dean took a deep breath. "I... Well, I'm..."

"You're..." Seamus inquired.

"A bit... Gay." Dean blurted out. He fought down a wince and forced himself to not look at Seamus. His friend was quiet for a long time. Then, he heard Seamus sigh and felt Seamus' forehead press between his shoulder blades.

"Is that all, then?" Seamus finally asked.

"I suppose." Dean replied.

"Okay then." Seamus said. "This just means I'll have to help find you find a boyfriend!"

It was a Friday night and Dean couldn't help but wonder what he had done in another life to receive this punishment. Seamus stood before him, a big grin on his face. Seamus' eyes kept rising and glancing over at the boy standing next to him. Then, Seamus' eyebrows would wiggle and he would grin lecherously. When this was completed, he would then repeat the cycle. Seamus went through this about five times before Dean was able to speak.

"I beg your pardon?" Dean asked.

"Sheesh." Seamus rolled his eyes, before repeating himself. "Dean, this is Mitchell Asbury. Mitchell, this is Dean. Tonight you both have a date."

"That's what I thought you said." Dean commented, before eyeing Mitchell. He glanced down at the Slytherin badge on Mitchell's robes, before giving Seamus a dark look. "Seamus..."

"Dean, Dean, Dean." Seamus said, rather exasperated. "Don't you think we are a little old for house rivalry?"

"Hmm." Was Dean's reply. "I really don't think-"

"Yes, you do." Seamus interrupted. "You think too much, actually. It's something we need to take care of. You need to get laid, Dean Thomas." Mitchell's face went bright red at this statement. Dean was fascinated by the idea that Slytherins could actually blush. He sent Seamus an annoyed look. "Just one date?"

Two hours later, Dean was sitting in a romantic location next to lake, Mitchell next to him. Across from them, Seamus had pinned his random date (Dean thought he looked like a Ravenclaw, but couldn't be certain.) to the ground and was proceeding in fondling him through his robes. Dean found he was just a tad turned on by the sight.

Mitchell shifted next to him, before letting out an annoyed grunt. Dean suddenly found himself being pushed back with the barely known Slytherin's lips attacking his own. It wasn't a kiss, not really. It was more like a statement, a label, a movement of property. As Dean allowed Mitchell to attack his mouth with his tongue, he vaguely wondered if all Slytherins kissed like this.

Afterward, Mitchell propped himself up on his elbow and glared down at Dean. Off to the side, he could hear Seamus enthusiastically moaning. Mitchell narrowed his eyes as he spoke. "You're a sexy bastard, Thomas, but it's obvious to everyone but Finnegan that you're wanting some Irish arse."

"Crude." Dean commented. Mitchell nearly broke into a smile, but caught himself in time.

"You're a man of little words, but the expressions on your face are nearly as obvious as the skankiness of Finnegan's personality." Mitchell commented, seemingly comfortable in the fact that he was insulting Dean. That was a Slytherin for you.

"I'm perfectly aware of Seamus'... Night life." Dean replied, more bitter than he had intended to be. Mitchell chuckled in amusement. "Can we get out of here?"

"We're in a closed off spot within Hogwarts grounds." Mitchell replied, tilting his head. "No one here but you, me, and the slut twins over there."

"That's kind of-"

"Why." Mitchell nodded and stood. "Get your bloody arse up and we'll go to the kitchens."

Dean sent one last look over his shoulder as he followed Mitchell back to the castle. In the light of the moon, he thought he saw Seamus' eyes trained on him. But it was probably a trick of the light.

It was a Saturday morning and Dean found that Seamus was avoiding him. It had become obvious after breakfast, when Seamus had made a point to sit on the other side of the Gryffindor table. Dean remained in their usual spot, poking at his plate and sending glances down at his best friend. He tried to ignore the discreet smirks Mitchell was sending him from across the room.

Maybe Seamus was upset that Dean and Mitchell left in the middle of the double-date? Dean didn't think that was it. If it was then Seamus would be sitting next to him, mouth filled with eggs, and complaining about his running out on them. Dean frowned to himself. Seamus wasn't next to him, instead he was across the room. Almost as though he didn't want Dean to know why he was angry. Which meant that Seamus wasn't mad at him, but mad about something involving him.

Dean decided that this was far too complex for even him. He returned to his meal, forcing down enough to keep himself from passing out in the middle of the Quidditch game that day. The Hufflepuffs were decked out in uniforms and school pride, gathering with loyal cheers as the team stood to make their way to the pitch. At the Slytherin table, where their team was gulping down food, a loud hiss seemed to feel the air. Dean wasn't sure whether they were cheering their own team or insulting the Hufflepuffs.

Mitchell's expression gave Dean the impression it was both.

Quidditch without Gryffindors wasn't as exciting as Dean thought it should be. Of course, he would rather be watching a West Ham game than guys flying around on phallic broomsticks, playing with balls. Dean paused his inner dialogue, as he replayed that last thought. Goodness, Quidditch really was vulgar.

"What are you thinking of, Thomas?" Mitchell asked, shoving him aside to sit down. Gryffindors glared at the Slytherin. Mitchell didn't seem to notice.

"The symbolism of this game." Dean admitted.

"Heh." Mitchell smirked. "Quidditch players are all batting for the other team. Why else would they play it?" Mitchell's eyes scanned the Gryffindor crowd. "Where's your lovesick Irish Bloodhound?"

"Irish Bloodhound?" Dean repeated. "He's no hound."

"He can smell sex in the Slytherin common room from the Gryffindor tower." Mitchell informed him. "He's a hound... Or one of those yipping terriers."

"He's always reminded me of a poodle." Dean commented. Mitchell let out an amused snort as the crowd cheered. The Hufflepuff keeper had just performed an amazing save.

"You know he's completely in love with you, right?" Mitchell suddenly said. Dean sputtered. "He is. You love him. He loves you. It's all very romantic in a pathetic Gryffindor sort of way. In fact, it's making me kind of sick. Can we go shag or something? I need to get that taste out of my mouth."

"I'm not shagging you." Dean informed him. Mitchell pouted. It was a full fledge pout and Dean couldn't help but glare at him. "I'm not."

"Saving it for short, blonde, and annoying?" Mitchell asked, sighing dramatically. "Bloody romance." Mitchell was quiet a moment, which Dean was thankful for. "Tell you what, Thomas. I'll help you get Seamus, if you do something for me in return."

"Why does that not surprise me." Dean stated. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Draco Malfoy." Mitchell replied, licking his lips in a lecherous manor. Dean stared at him and attempted to not burst out laughing.

"Pardon?"

"Malfoy." Mitchell repeated. "I want his bloody, tight arse in my bloody hands. Or on my hand... Fingers... Whichever."

"That's such a disturbing thought." Dean said, blinking. "...Malfoy?"

"Yes, Malfoy!" Mitchell snapped. "Bloody spoiled brat. He has a tattoo, you know. It's a small snake. A copperhead. On his lower hip. Flashes that bloody thing off every chance he can get, so long as Daddy doesn't find out."

"Like is said: disturbing." Dean shuddered at the concept of Draco Malfoy. "I don't even talk to Malfoy. How could I help you get him?"

"Well, that's for you to find out." Mitchell snapped. "Do we have a deal?"

It was ridiculous and a stupid idea in general. Help Mitchell, whom he had only met on Friday, get the so called man of his dreams? For what? Help with Seamus? Dean took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder. The Gryffindor crowd was large, but he could still pick out Seamus' sandy blonde head.

"We have a deal."

"Wonderful." Mitchell smiled as Dean turned back to him. "Seal it with a kiss?"

"One track mind." Dean stated, allowing Mitchell to kiss him lightly on the lips. He jerked back before it could go too far, causing Mitchell to smirk.

It was a Monday afternoon and Dean was perfectly aware that he was stalking Draco Malfoy. Interestingly enough, Draco didn't seem to notice. Dean had been following him, discreetly, for the past day and a half. He discovered that Draco, when he was insulting those of "lesser qualities", was off in his own little world. He often rubbed his lower hip, where Mitchell claimed there was a tattoo.

Dean was ashamed to find this gesture erotic.

"Thomas!" Someone yelled out. Dean noticed Draco's steps falter and the Slytherin blonde look over his shoulder to see Mitchell sauntering down the hallway.

"What?" Dean asked.

"I've got a plan." Mitchell stated, his eyes nearly glowing in excitement.

"Why is that such a scary concept?" Dean asked. He noticed, in the corner of his eye, that Draco had stopped some distance away and was discreetly watching them..

"I'll have you know I have great idea!" Mitchell protested. "Besides, you'll like this one. You're one kinky Gryffindor, and you know it."

"I am not."

"Look, I'll have Seamus right where you want him." Mitchell explained, ignoring Dean's protests. "All you have to do is show up and enjoy him.. I'll even provide the chains." Dean sputtered. "Calm down, Thomas. They're just little chains."

"No." Dean insisted.

"I'm going to do it anyway." Mitchell informed him. "You might as well get in on the benefits." Mitchell paused, glancing over Dean shoulder and frowning. "Wait a minute... What are you doing?"

"Talking to an idiot." Dean replied, smirking.

"You're stalking Malfoy." Mitchell hissed. "Why?"

"I like looking at his arse." Dean deadpanned. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm trying to help you!"

"You mean you were actually going to help?" Mitchell blinked, before shaking his head. "Gryffindors. You lot are so bloody noble."

"So, what, you don't want me to find a way to get you together with Draco Malfoy?" Dean asked, hopefully.

"No, I do." Mitchell said, enjoying the look of defeat on Dean's face. "Now, I'm off to kidnap your lover boy and tie him to a pillar in your honor. I'll send you a note when I'm done."

"Mitchell, no!" Dean yelled, but Mitchell was already disappearing around the corner. Dean sighed and glanced down toward Draco, who quickly looked away. Dean rolled his eyes and continued to stalk Draco, who knew perfectly well that he was there, for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time dinner arrived, Dean had discovered that Seamus was missing. Neville informed him that he had left Defense Against the Dark Arts earlier that day and that was the last anyone had seen of him. Dean didn't really think much of it. After all, Seamus was Seamus. Bad things typically didn't happen to someone like him. And, aside from that, Mitchell kept smirking at him from the Slytherin table. So, he knew that Mitchell had done something to him and that Seamus should be safe... Hopefully.

Thirty minutes into his meal, an owl landed before his plate. It held a simple note: Second floor, east wing, third door on the left. Best go get your man, Thomas.

"Crap." Dean muttered, sending Mitchell a dark glare as he stood. Mitchell grinned and gave him a small wave. He quickly left the great hall, making his way up to the second floor and following Mitchell's instructions. He found the room easily enough and, upon opening the door, dropped the note.

"Oh, hello." Seamus said calmly, watching the note flutter to the ground.

"Hi." Dean gulped and shut the door behind him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Seamus nodded, tugging at one of the handcuffs attaching him to the iron-wrought headboard. "This is a lot more comfortable than one would think."

"Seamus." Dean took a deep, calming breath. "You're tied to a bed without any clothes."

"I have boxers on." Seamus sent him a slight pout. "Besides, I'm cute like this."

Cute didn't exactly describe it. Dean thought he looked sexy and hot and oh so very lickable. But he wasn't about to admit that. Instead, he walked over to the bed and began searching for the keys to the handcuffs.

"Dean." Seamus whispered. Dean ignored him. "Oh, Dean. Pay attention to me, Dean. Please? Pleeeeeaaaaasssse?"

"I thought you were mad at me." Dean commented, crawling out from underneath the bed with the keys. He sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for Seamus' hand.

"Mad? Me? Never."

"Seamus." Dean sighed. "You haven't talked to me in two days."

"Yeah, okay, not mad, just..." Seamus blushed slightly as Dean unlocked the handcuff. He removed his wrist from Dean's gentle grip. "I've been thinking and... Well, I need to be away from you to do it, is all."

"I'm sorry Mitchell kidnapped you." Dean said, softly. He paused a moment, before reaching past Seamus and working on the other handcuff.

"It's okay. Bloody Slytherins." Seamus chuckled nervously. There was a soft click as the handcuff cam undone. Seamus didn't move, though. Instead, he looked up at Dean with wide, hazel eyes. "Sorry I was ignoring you."

"It's okay." Dean gulped.

"Dean, I..." Seamus trailed off.

"What, Seamus?" Dean asked.

"I-" Seamus cut himself off, lurching forward to kiss Dean on the mouth. Dean let out a grunt of surprise, stiffening briefly, before melting into the kiss. Seamus' arms wrapped around Dean's torso, pulling him downward.

"Seamus." Dean muttered, between kisses. "Are you... Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." Seamus moaned slightly, giving Dean's lip a slight nibble. "I've been wanting this since... Can't remember."

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Dean asked, nervously, when he was able to pull away from Seamus' tempting lips. Seamus sent him a slight smile. "No one else, but us?"

"I don't plan on sharing you, Dean Thomas." Seamus informed him, his smile turning into a bright grin. "And I'm hoping you'll be just as possessive."

Seamus kissed him again, slipping his tongue across Dean's lower lip. Dean let out a happy noise, parting his lips and deepening the kiss. It was some time later that Dean pulled away with a curse. Seamus looked at him funny for a moment.

"Sorry, but I just realized something." Dean explained. "Mitchell set this thing up, so now I really have to help him get Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy? Ew!" Seamus exclaimed, grinning evilly. "That's all kinds of gross! But funny. Oh so very funny."

"Yeah, well, I made a promise." Dean said.

"Dean, you're so naughty." Seamus chuckled. "Making bets over me? I don't know whether to be flattered or amused." Seamus tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think I'll go with amused."

"Will you help?" Dean asked, hopefully.

"Oh, I'll do more than that." Seamus replied, wickedly.

"I should be afraid, not turned on by that tone." Dean commented.

"I think Mitchell is the one who should be afraid." Seamus informed him.

The End.