Holiday Drabbly Bits: Merry Christmas to BESAMISLABIOS!
Title: Kissing Seamus
Author: katmarajade
Written for: besamislabios
Pairing: Dean/Seamus
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 695
Prompt: tinsel
Summary: After a long day at work, Dean comes home to find Seamus has taken decking the halls to a whole new level.
Notes: I saved this one for last, because it's Dean/Seamus (one of my dearest pairings), has lots of kissing, and is full of Christmas joy. Merry Christmas, lovely besamislabios!
It had been a ridiculously long day at work. Dean found himself glaring at passersby as he walked home in the damp twilight. He'd never been any good at holding his tongue. It had gotten him into plenty of trouble during his school years, and it seemed that bosses didn't like their mistakes pointed out in the real world any more than his professors had in the classroom. He was sick of having to apologize and kiss the over-sized arses of his lazy employers just to keep a steady paycheck. But they needed the money. Thoughts of Seamus spurred him forward, and he hurried up the three flights of stairs to their tiny flat with the crooked number 9 on the door.
He walked in and immediately tripped over a huge pile of muggle fairy lights. Cursing loudly, Dean stared at their sitting room in shock. When he'd left for work that morning, there had been nothing but their threadbare green sofa and a few empty beer cans.
Now there was a merrily crackling fire (in a fireplace that had not existed a nine hours earlier) with two huge stockings hanging in front of it. There was an enormous red and gold rug covering most of the floor and a Christmas tree that was at least two feet too tall for their flat. The tree was packed full of fairy lights, candy canes, and tinsel. There was Christmas music piped in through the wireless.
Suddenly Seamus' head popped out from under the tree, a huge grin on his flushed, freckled face.
"Feeling festive, are we?" Dean asked, managing to keep a perfectly straight face.
"It's Christmas, Dean-o! Fa la la la la and all that!"
"You put in a fireplace."
"All the better to hang our stockings by!"
"We have stockings?"
"We do now! My grandmam knit them for us, crazy old bat she is but ace with the needles. Bit dangerous, really, that woman armed with sharp sticks."
"And our newly-vaulted ceiling? Where'd you learn that one?"
"Isn't it brill? Got some tips from Neville. He's been remodeling that new house of his and up to his eyebrows in interior design charms. And I needed it to fit this bloody fantastic Christmas tree inside!"
Seamus was so excited over his Christmas decorating that he was practically vibrating, his grin splitting his face in half and his eyes scrunched into crescent moons. Dean moved closer and pulled him out from underneath the tree. Seamus shook his head, bits of tree and tinsel drifting off. With a fond smile, Dean picked out a few more stray pieces of tinsel that have gotten tangled in Seamus' sandy hair, then laced his long fingers through the short strands.
He let the fingers of his other hand trail lightly over Seamus' flushed cheeks, smiling at the tiny spots of glitter that have somehow gotten into Seamus' eyebrows and pressing his hand lightly over Seamus' big mouth when it looks like he's going to start chattering again. Seamus smiled back, one of Dean's favorite smiles: part dirty smirk, part soft and affectionate, and all Seamus. Dean softly traced the outline of the smile with his fingernail. Leaning down, he let his tongue take over, retracing the edges of the now-changing smile. Seamus never could stay still and reached over to grab Dean's waist, pulling him closer, causing them to stumble slightly and laugh into each other's mouths. Then Seamus pushed up and Dean closed their lips together in earnest.
Kissing Seamus was like breathing. It was easy and beautiful and fresh, and Dean needed it just as much as he needed air. When Seamus' mouth was up against his, pressing and pulling and pushing, everything else faded away. The troubles of the day, the discontent at work, the gray skies, their lack of money … All he needed was this.
He would continue to keep his mouth shut at work, ignoring the obvious hypocrisy and screw ups. He would hold his tongue there, because it meant that he could come home to this. Besides, Seamus could always find plenty of much more interesting uses for Dean's mouth. Starting with this.
This officially concludes the holiday drabbly bits of 2011. I hope you enjoyed them. Until next year, darlings!
Author: katmarajade
Written for: besamislabios
Pairing: Dean/Seamus
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 695
Prompt: tinsel
Summary: After a long day at work, Dean comes home to find Seamus has taken decking the halls to a whole new level.
Notes: I saved this one for last, because it's Dean/Seamus (one of my dearest pairings), has lots of kissing, and is full of Christmas joy. Merry Christmas, lovely besamislabios!
It had been a ridiculously long day at work. Dean found himself glaring at passersby as he walked home in the damp twilight. He'd never been any good at holding his tongue. It had gotten him into plenty of trouble during his school years, and it seemed that bosses didn't like their mistakes pointed out in the real world any more than his professors had in the classroom. He was sick of having to apologize and kiss the over-sized arses of his lazy employers just to keep a steady paycheck. But they needed the money. Thoughts of Seamus spurred him forward, and he hurried up the three flights of stairs to their tiny flat with the crooked number 9 on the door.
He walked in and immediately tripped over a huge pile of muggle fairy lights. Cursing loudly, Dean stared at their sitting room in shock. When he'd left for work that morning, there had been nothing but their threadbare green sofa and a few empty beer cans.
Now there was a merrily crackling fire (in a fireplace that had not existed a nine hours earlier) with two huge stockings hanging in front of it. There was an enormous red and gold rug covering most of the floor and a Christmas tree that was at least two feet too tall for their flat. The tree was packed full of fairy lights, candy canes, and tinsel. There was Christmas music piped in through the wireless.
Suddenly Seamus' head popped out from under the tree, a huge grin on his flushed, freckled face.
"Feeling festive, are we?" Dean asked, managing to keep a perfectly straight face.
"It's Christmas, Dean-o! Fa la la la la and all that!"
"You put in a fireplace."
"All the better to hang our stockings by!"
"We have stockings?"
"We do now! My grandmam knit them for us, crazy old bat she is but ace with the needles. Bit dangerous, really, that woman armed with sharp sticks."
"And our newly-vaulted ceiling? Where'd you learn that one?"
"Isn't it brill? Got some tips from Neville. He's been remodeling that new house of his and up to his eyebrows in interior design charms. And I needed it to fit this bloody fantastic Christmas tree inside!"
Seamus was so excited over his Christmas decorating that he was practically vibrating, his grin splitting his face in half and his eyes scrunched into crescent moons. Dean moved closer and pulled him out from underneath the tree. Seamus shook his head, bits of tree and tinsel drifting off. With a fond smile, Dean picked out a few more stray pieces of tinsel that have gotten tangled in Seamus' sandy hair, then laced his long fingers through the short strands.
He let the fingers of his other hand trail lightly over Seamus' flushed cheeks, smiling at the tiny spots of glitter that have somehow gotten into Seamus' eyebrows and pressing his hand lightly over Seamus' big mouth when it looks like he's going to start chattering again. Seamus smiled back, one of Dean's favorite smiles: part dirty smirk, part soft and affectionate, and all Seamus. Dean softly traced the outline of the smile with his fingernail. Leaning down, he let his tongue take over, retracing the edges of the now-changing smile. Seamus never could stay still and reached over to grab Dean's waist, pulling him closer, causing them to stumble slightly and laugh into each other's mouths. Then Seamus pushed up and Dean closed their lips together in earnest.
Kissing Seamus was like breathing. It was easy and beautiful and fresh, and Dean needed it just as much as he needed air. When Seamus' mouth was up against his, pressing and pulling and pushing, everything else faded away. The troubles of the day, the discontent at work, the gray skies, their lack of money … All he needed was this.
He would continue to keep his mouth shut at work, ignoring the obvious hypocrisy and screw ups. He would hold his tongue there, because it meant that he could come home to this. Besides, Seamus could always find plenty of much more interesting uses for Dean's mouth. Starting with this.
This officially concludes the holiday drabbly bits of 2011. I hope you enjoyed them. Until next year, darlings!