Sticks & Stones

Seamus sat at the end of the bed and glanced around. It was really a nice room Harry had given him. The big four-poster reminded him of the beds at Hogwarts. There was a desk and chair (which Seamus had tried and found very comfortable), a small area to the side with a table which Seamus presumed was meant for small meals or taking tea with a guest, and even a private bathroom attached. In fact, the only thing missing to make the ‘room’ a complete flat was a kitchen—which was probably just as well since Seamus couldn’t cook to save his life.

Seamus thought that the room was a good bit nicer than the ratty flat he’d been living in. Of course, Seamus had intentionally picked a pretty disgusting place because it was in keeping with the image he was trying to project. He was glad to be out of the squalor and back in a place where he could actually shower every day. The last time had been—

The last time had been at the cabin in Ireland. And Seamus never intended to go back there—ever. How could he? Just walking into the living room would mean seeing his mam’s body. He saw that enough in his nightmares.

When Seamus had been taken over by the Imperius Curse, it had seemed like one of those nightmares where you’re aware of what you’re doing, and don’t want to do it, but can’t stop yourself. It was like he’d been thrown face-first into hell, knowing his parents had been forced to watch as he’d been sent out to find Harry, then flinging deadly spells at his closest friends that he’d never dream of casting on his own, and being unable to stop. When Harry had stunned him, Seamus had wished that he wouldn’t ever wake up.

But he had been revived, freed of the Imperius Curse—and discovered that he hadn’t yet learned what hell felt like. He’d found out for real when he’d shaken his mother’s dead arm and stared into her blank, empty eyes.

Since then, the life—for lack of a better word—that he’d lived had seemed only appropriate. Hell was supposed to be terrible, after all, so Seamus had embraced it as it came. He’d done what he’d promised Harry he’d do to the best of his ability, but his heart hadn’t been in it. He really didn’t care which side won the war any longer. He’d let himself be driven by thoughts of revenge on the Death Eaters for a while, but it wasn’t enough to sustain him and eventually he was only continuing with the charade out of obligation—obligation and the sense that the brutal world he was traveling through was his deserved punishment.

Now Seamus wasn’t sure what to think. Leaving behind the dangers of his ‘undercover’ work was nice, but after seeing the looks he’d gotten from some of the D.A. members he wondered if being in the House of Black wouldn’t be worse. Most of them had seemed more welcoming once Harry had explained what Seamus had been doing—or rather, they had redirected their anger from Seamus to Harry. But even though several people had welcomed Seamus happily and even tearfully, some of them—most notably Dean—had refused to talk to him, or even look him in the eye. If Seamus was to spend the foreseeable future being shunned by half the people he was living with, he almost wished he could go back to the ratty little flat and live alone.

But he couldn’t—Harry had made that clear. It wasn’t just Seamus’ safety they were worried about, it was everyone’s. Seamus would be sure to be caught if he returned to the old flat, which was undoubtedly being watched, and he’d seen a lot in his short time in the House of Black. Perhaps most significantly, Seamus knew that Hermione was alive, and Harry was adamant they maintain the fiction that she was dead so she could be a secret asset for the D.A.

Harry had asked Seamus if there was anything incriminating in Seamus’ flat, or anything he absolutely had to have. Seamus had shaken his head—everything important to him was locked up in his parents’—that was, his vault. When he’d said so, Harry had declared that no one would be taking the risk of going to the flat since nothing there was needed.

Seamus would be going to Gringotts the following day and collecting his things—plus taking some of Harry and Ginny’s money to Madam Malkin’s in order to replace the clothing he’d left behind—but until then he only had the clothes he was wearing. He felt—destitute, even though he knew he really wasn’t. His parents had left him a small but reasonable inheritance, and he owned the cottage in Ireland and their house near Biggleswade. But knowing that didn’t make him feel any less a pauper.

Sighing, Seamus stood up and stripped off his outer robes and sweater, leaving him in a t-shirt and trousers. He dumped the robes over the chair by the desk and kicked his shoes off, and then collapsed onto the bed. It had been a long bloody day.

Just as Seamus felt himself drifting off to sleep, a knock on the door startled him into wakefulness. Grumbling, he dragged himself out of bed and stomped over to the door. “What?” he snapped, pulling the door open. “I’m trying to—oh.”

Dean was standing there, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, mate,” he said. “I should’ve known you were sleeping.”

“Mate?” Seamus repeated, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “So I’m your mate again, am I? You through giving me the evil eye?”

Dean ducked his head. “Uh… yeah. Sorry.”

Seamus was shocked—Dean had seemed furious only an hour or so ago. “What the hell happened to change your mind, then?” he asked.

“Er… Ginny gave me an earful,” Dean admitted. “Told me off so loud I thought she was going to hex me. But… well, she wasn’t wrong, so… yeah, I’m sorry I was a prat. Once Harry told us what’s really been going on I should’ve realized you weren’t being a coward.”

“I wasn’t being brave either,” Seamus countered. He was pleased with the apology, but wasn’t about to let Dean remain under the delusion that Seamus had done what he had out as some selfless, honorable thing. “I only agreed to do what Harry asked because it gave me an excuse to wallow in misery!”

To Seamus’ surprise, Dean shrugged. “I don’t really care why you did any of it, mate,” he said. “It was a brilliant thing to do anyway. From what Harry and Ginny said you were a lot of help, so I think it was pretty great what you did.”

Seamus blushed. “Uh… thanks. I don’t really think I did much, really,” he temporized, turning away from the door and picking up his clothes of the chair to give his hands something to do. “I think Harry was just saying that so it wouldn’t seem like I was wasting my time.”

“And so he wouldn’t look like a bloody lunatic for setting it up in the first place,” Dean agreed with a nod, stepping inside and closing the door. “Yeah, I thought of that. But Ginny said otherwise, and if I learned anything about Ginny when we were dating it’s that she knows when the truth’s important. And she was telling the truth.”

Seamus scowled, his gut twisting. He hadn’t liked it at all when Dean and Ginny had dated, mainly because it meant that he and Dean weren’t—doing anything. Of course, it would have been wrong for Dean to cheat on his girlfriend, even with another bloke—Seamus agreed with that completely. But Seamus hated that Dean had gone elsewhere when he had Seamus.

Not that Seamus had ever committed to anything with Dean. They’d both known that Seamus couldn’t be open about dating another boy—his family would have killed him. But that didn’t mean Seamus had had to like it. “Yeah, Ginny’s as bloody honest as the bloody day is bloody long,” he growled sarcastically.

“Are you jealous of Ginny?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Don’t be stupid!” Seamus snapped.

“We never did anything more than kiss!” Dean insisted. “And then she dumped me and started dating Harry! For fuck’s sake, she married him!” Seamus snorted. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think she ever actually wanted to date me,” Dean offered. “She was hung up on Harry for ages, I was just a fill-in until he came to his senses.”

“Good to hear,” Seamus said with a snicker.

“Seamus—mate, I know you couldn’t—uh, do with me what Ginny did,” Dean said, absently picking at his jeans. “You know, date. Because your parents wouldn’t have stood for it. But your parents… well, now that they’re gone… there’s no one to disapprove…”

Seamus had felt his sorrow over his parents death hit hard when Dean mentioned it, but as what he said sank in it faded. “Did—are you saying you want to…?” Seamus said, and blushed again.

“Well… I wanted to before,” Dean admitted, still picking at his jeans. “But you were so sure you couldn’t. But now—”

Seamus was stunned. Never mind that Dean didn’t think he was a coward any more, never mind that Dean had gotten over his anger that Seamus had deceived him—Dean wanted to… to date him? “Are you serious?” Seamus exclaimed. “Blokes don’t do that!”

“Why not?” Dean said, narrowing his eyes.

“Because—they just don’t!”

“Only because they get pressured not to,” Dean said pointedly. Seamus had to admit that was true—his own parents had been utterly opposed to the idea. “There’s nothing wrong with it if you think it’s okay,” Dean continued. “And from what I remember you didn’t usually complain—”

“Oh, piss off,” Seamus muttered. “Look, you’re my best friend, Dean, and I liked all that, sure, but I just—I can’t be going around having people know I’m—uh, doing that stuff.”

Dean looked disappointed, but shrugged. “Okay, I get it,” he said. “It still feels like something you shouldn’t admit to?” Seamus nodded. “That makes sense, I guess… you’ve been told that all your life, I guess it sank in.”

“That sounds right,” Seamus admitted. “Nothing personal.”

“Sure.” Dean waggled his eyebrows. “What about in private?”

“You mean—?”

“Like we were doing before,” Dean said suggestively. “In private.”

“Private like, we’ll only tell Ginny, who’ll tell Harry?” Seamus shot back.

Dean’s jaw dropped. “She—she didn’t!”

“She bloody well did,” Seamus grumbled. “But I think it was only so Harry could prove who he was when he was Polyjuiced into Snape. I’m pretty sure they didn’t tell anyone else. I just wish you’d have kept your bloody mouth shut to Ginny in the first place.”

“She was the one who brought it up,” Dean said defensively. “We were talking about first kisses—hers was with Luna Lovegood, by the way—”

“Really?” Seamus asked, perking up. That was a hot idea.

“Yeah. Anyway, I was reluctant to tell her who mine was, but she kept pressing, and finally I swore her to secrecy and told her. I mean, it wasn’t any weirder than her and Luna.”

Seamus thought about that. “No, I guess not.”

“But I’ll, uh, reemphasize to Ginny that she’s not supposed to tell anyone about that,” Dean said.

“Well… okay.” It was strange. Seamus hadn’t felt any kind of sexual arousal since being placed under the Imperius Curse—he hadn’t even thought about it. But talking about it with Dean was bringing to mind all the various times they’d snuck off or met up and shagged. Dean was right—Seamus was jealous of Ginny. He wanted to be the one sucking Dean’s cock, taking it inside… “Right, well… so long as we keep it private,” He said with conviction. “Like before.”

Dean’s eyes lit up. “You mean it?” he asked happily. “You want to go back to—?”

“Hell, yeah,” Seamus interrupted. “A bit of life from before everything went crazy, and a good bit of fun too? What are we waiting for?” He grabbed a fistful of Dean’s t-shirt and swung him around toward the bed.

“What the hell?” Dean said weakly. “Your mood just turned the other direction!”

Seamus shrugged. “I’m chuffed that you aren’t angry at me any more. Plus I’m horny for the first time in months. I think I missed a hundred times jerking off that I have to make up for.”

Seamus started undoing his belt, and Dean followed suit. Seamus kicked his pants and boxers aside and grinned at the sight of Dean’s erection. “Been a while for you too?” he mocked.

“Just as long as you, you tosser,” Dean retorted.

Seamus stepped forward and pressed close to Dean so their cocks rubbed each other. Dean grunted as Seamus wrapped a hand around both cock and thrust his hips, making them rub together. “Oh—bloody hell,” Seamus moaned, and let go. “Going to come too soon,” he explained apologetically when Dean groaned in protest.

“Yeah… Well me too,” Dean admitted. “Right to it?”

“Isn’t that what we always did?” Seamus chuckled.

“What d’you want?”

Seamus knew what Dean meant. “You in me,” he said.

“Right,” Dean agreed with a wide grin, and retrieved his wand. Seamus leaned over and braced his arms on the bed so his arse was in the air. Dean nodded appreciatively before casting the Lubrication Charm on Seamus, who gasped as he felt his arse growing slick. The gasp became an inarticulate cry as Dean positioned his cock and pushed in hard. They never bothered with anything more than the charm—what would be the point, they’d decided, when they were both already horny?

Dean moaned out a breath as his cock pressed into Seamus until he couldn’t go any deeper. He cast the Lubrication Charm again, this time on his right hand, and reached around Seamus and fisted his straining cock. “Fuck!” Seamus shouted as the slick fingers slid over his cock in time to the frenetic thrusts Dean was making inside him.

Both of them had been full of pent-up desire, so it wasn’t long until Dean’s thrusts grew faster, more erratic. Seamus reached under him and put his hand over Dean’s, forcing it to squeeze his cock harder, move up and down faster, until Dean’s thrust hit Seamus’ prostate hard and Seamus came with a shout, spurting semen over their hands, onto the bed and the floor. Dean let go of Seamus’ cock and grabbed his hips, and thrust frantically a few more times before grinding forward and coming hard.

Both boys panted for breath for a minute before Dean pulled out of Seamus. He cast a couple of cleaning charms before Seamus turned and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Seamus glanced at the clock on the wall and grinned. “That took almost ten minutes. We’re out of practice.”

Dean laughed. They’d always tried to come as quickly as possible, to minimize the chances of being caught; it had become a personal challenge between them—who could make the other come faster? Seamus still held the record, getting Dean to come in his mouth in under a minute (they’d never agreed whether it had been 52 or 58 seconds). Dean’s record was 1 minute 6 seconds, set with just the Lubrication Charm on his hands, one on Seamus’ cock, the other probing his arse. “Well,” Dean said, pulling on his jeans, “I still say that I could do under forty seconds if you start out without clothes and already erect.”

“Hah! You’ll never break a minute,” Seamus taunted.

“Bet on it?”

“What stakes?”

Dean thought for a minute. “Loser bottoms every night for a week,” he said, grinning evilly.

Seamus winced. That sounded like a good way to get really sore. But his competitive nature—and the fact that winning and losing both sounded appealing—made him say “You’re on. Day after tomorrow?”

“I’m working all week,” Dean said apologetically. “It’ll have to wait till the weekend—say, Sunday?” Seamus nodded his agreement. “What about if it’s more than forty seconds, but under a minute?” Dean asked.

Now it was Seamus’ turn to consider, and when it came to him he laughed at the very thought. “Are Lavender and Parvati still—you know?” he asked gleefully.

“Yeah, I think so,” Dean replied, confused. They both knew that Parvati and Lavender had been playing around with each other at least as long as Dean and Seamus had been. And that both girls had been… interested in both Seamus and Dean, although they’d never actually made a proposition. “Why?”

“If it’s under a minute but more than forty seconds,” Seamus said with a leer, “we both have to go to the girls and proposition them for a night with all four of us!”

Dean gulped. “Bloody hell,” he croaked.

“Deal?”

“Deal,” Dean agreed weakly, thinking that the day after tomorrow he was going to watch the clock very carefully. He couldn’t decide whether winning, losing or landing in the middle sounded better. “Uh… look, I’m gonna head back to my room so no one’ll notice anything tomorrow morning.”

Seamus nodded. “Dean… thanks,” he said sincerely. “I bloody hated it knowing you thought I was a coward.”

Dean shook his head guiltily. “I don’t know if I really believed it,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to believe it, that’s for sure.”

“Thanks,” Seamus said again. “I haven’t really been happy in a long time. It felt good.”

Dean grinned nervously. “Not as good as when I reached around and—”

Seamus threw a shoe at Dean. “Oh, piss off!” he laughed.

Dean chuckled as he opened the door, waved, and slipped out, shutting the door behind him. Seamus crawled into the huge bed, feeling for the first time since his parents’ death like he might actually be human again some day.