Strange-Eyed Constellation, Post 10
Jul. 27th, 2007 09:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thrihyrneWell— this seems to be the end of the primary story arc. For those of you who've been reading along, thank you for doing so, and for your feedback. I still have an Epilogue to come; I just felt this part of the story had come to its conclusion, but there are a few scenes I want yet I want to share. This certainly is a rare trio, and even readership for Seamus/Dean isn't that large, so I really do want to thank those of you who've read this and its exploration of possible pansexuality (or at least acknowledging that sexuality has rather a lot of shades of grey to it) and polyamory.
Title: Strange-Eyed Constellation
Pairing(s): Past Fred/Seamus, Seamus/Dean, eventual Fred/Seamus/Dean, Ron/Harry
Rating: This chapter definitely NC-17; threesome sex
Summary: War can make strange bedfellows; peacetime allows kindred spirits to join together. Seamus discovers both, and in being true to the baffling desires of his heart, believes that love needn't come exclusively in pairs.
A/N: my thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
auntee_mame and wolfiekins for the written beta for these last two chapters. Strange to think that this is coming to a close, but it seemed right. That being said, there's still an Epilogue to come. :)
The title comes from Thomas Hardy's poem "Drummer Hodge."
Previous Posts:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Soaring… he was carried on a current, or wave, it was too vague, and he knew he was safe, cradled and secure. He was held up, buoyant, a comforting voice murmuring above and below, the words shimmering as they flowed through him. He was restricted, unable to wave his arms and legs like he wanted, but the words were soothing and then he heard another familiar sound. It was intermittent, washing over him and vanishing, and he really wanted to get up, to be on solid ground, and the noise was a snuffling, sleepy one, and Dean could tell him… where was…
Seamus struggled into wakefulness, out of the unconscious realm that was so appealing and kept pulling at him, tugging him back to sleep. The sound that had finally roused him was a perplexing one, a regular huff and low whistle, but reassuring in a manner that frustratingly he couldn't place. He lay still, his eyes closed, feeling disembodied and trying to figure out where he was, though inexplicably he wasn't worried. Once his mind decided grudgingly to filter some knowledge to him like sand trickling through an hourglass, it became obvious what the sound was: someone was snoring. Someone he knew well. Happy that he'd solved the mystery, he began to slide back into that world of peace and gentleness. But now he'd been awake long enough to begin to wonder what was going on, and an undercurrent of dismay lapped at the periphery of his thoughts. He'd have to ask Dean—
"Seamus. You're okay. Don't fight it, you had to be bound up a bit, and there was a lot of internal bleeding, but you're going to be fine."
Fred's voice was a salve to Seamus' frantic thoughts. He'd not even been able to get any words out, just a rasping, panicked breath that was little more than a wheeze. His eyelids felt heavier than a tonne of bricks, but he had to see where he was…
"Oh, Shay. Thank Merlin, you've come 'round. I'm here, we're both here, you're okay. Really, mate, I'm not taking the piss."
Dean's welcome baritone sounded like the call of an angel. With a torrent of images, he remembered the crash on his motorbike, his body hurtling through the air, and the horrible pain after he'd landed. Gratefully, he closed his eyes again. Now that his faculties had decided to do their job, the smell alone was enough for him to know he was in hospital, the room was dark, and he was alive.
"Dean?" he croaked, turning his head to the left even as he pieced together the puzzle of the heavy warmth across his ribs. Dean was curled up on one side, Fred on the other.
"Yes. 'M here," he murmured against the side of Seamus' face, his breath tickling his ear. "You've been out a while, but they got you all patched up. Me too."
"Fuck, Dean, 'm so sorry," Seamus said, feeling as though he had gravel in his chest. He tried clearing his throat, with some success.
"Do you remember what happened?" Fred asked softly, nuzzling Seamus' jaw. The audible grating sound let Seamus know that he had indeed been unconscious for several days, as his beard took a few days to grow in.
"Deer. Jumped into the road."
"Wondered what'd happened," Dean murmured.
"You sent out your patronus," Seamus said through a yawn. He felt so safe, knowing he hadn't died, and neither had Dean. Maybe it'd be okay to slide back into sleep, Dean and Fred's arms crossed over him like living shields. Dean had saved them. And who had come…?
"I did." Dean's voice wasn't proud, but Seamus could hear the self-satisfaction and worth in his tone, and he smiled.
"You saved me." Seamus felt both Dean's and Fred's arms tighten imperceptibly around him.
"Yeah. But Fred helped."
Fred snorted outright at that. Though he was now dawdling on the verge of sleep, not even half-awake anymore, Seamus sensed Fred and Dean's arms straightening enough to be able to intertwine their fingers, their clasped hands resting on his abdomen. He could only marvel at the miracle of his heart still beating in his chest, Fred and Dean alive and with him, before he returned to his unconscious world.
* * * * *
"I'm done joking about this," Ron said gravely. He stood over Seamus' bed, his hands holding loosely onto the railing. "I don't want to keep seeing you here. You're worse off each time, and I'm really terrible at funerals."
Seamus smiled in a manner he hoped was endearing, easing up to more of a sitting position in his bed. "I promise to stay out of St. Mungo's. You won't find me here troubling you again."
Ron cocked a glance at the door, then looked down at Seamus, his eyebrows raised. "Can we talk? Privately? Not about your accident, something else."
"Yeah. All right."
Seamus winced as he pulled the institutional blanket further up so that it covered his shoulders. Ron aimed his wand at the door and it closed, the latch snicking into place.
Between Ron, Dean, Fred and Harry, Seamus had been told all about the innovative and effective healing Ron had engaged in after Fred had managed to get Dean and him to the hospital in the first place. Dean's patronus had relayed the panicked message and Fred had followed. He'd used a tracking spell they'd used during the War since obviously Dean couldn't describe where they were, other than in a ditch somewhere between the pub and their flat. Dean's wounds had been mostly superficial, though his broken elbow had been excruciating for him until it was mended. A Healer who specialised in Muggle-caused maladies had done the most work on Seamus, but it had been Ron's idea yet again to make the most of their similar ambric signatures as a way to expediate Seamus' recovery. He'd cast a dampening spell to keep most other magic out of the room, and used an archaic device shaped like a megaphone to amplify Dean's and Fred's ambric energy. Aside from trips to the bathroom, they'd spent the better part of three days next to Seamus, the topological suffusion of their magical energies providing an extra level of strength to Seamus' own as he lay in a forced unconscious state. Ron had released that spell the night before, when Seamus had awakened naturally.
Seamus was strong enough now to be given a tentative release date in a couple of days, and Dean had already resumed his usual daily activities. He and Fred came back to St. Mungo's in the evenings to sleep alongsde him, their attuned magical signatures providing the comfort and safety Seamus had felt while first in his imposed stasis. It was also an opportunity for some very tame, but erotically charged hours, and Seamus was convinced that element hadn't taken Ron by surprise.
Now Ron sat in the chair he'd pulled over to Seamus' bedside, his wand handle poking out of his coat pocket.
"If this is too personal, you can tell me to shove off," Ron said, though his tone sounded more demanding than friendly.
"All right."
"You and Dean— you're happy, right? You seem to be doing well. He's always telling Harry how great things are between you. I'm not so thrilled about the idea of a cat wandering around him, but I suppose that's up to you two."
"It was bound to happen," Seamus said with a sigh, testing the pain level in his ankles as he rolled them slightly. There was almost none, just a disorienting elasticity until the tendons tightened fully on the bone again. "He'd been doting on Kipper for ages. But yeah, we're good. Really good."
"Mmmm hmmmm." Ron chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before focussing his keen, blue-eyed gaze on to Seamus. "So what's Fred got to do with it? Your business is your business, but I've noticed you a couple of times, before your accident, when you seemed more in each other's pockets than you should've been, if you're just friends. And since Dean can't see…" his voice trailed off, the implication heavy with disapproval.
Anger bristled into Seamus' chest. "I'd never cheat on him like that," Seamus said scathingly. "Things aren't as neat and tidy like you and Harry, and there's stuff from the past you've got no clue about. We're all together, like. And I think you kind of knew that, or guessed it, what with having them both with me to speed up my healing. Right?"
Ron's indignant expression metamorphosed into one of grudging acceptance. "Yeah. Didn't feel comfortable asking Dean, and Fred outright said he wasn't talking about anything that had to do with you two except that you were friends. It was obvious to me that there was more going on, but I couldn't make sense of it. I didn't like the thought of you taking advantage of Dean—"
"I wasn't," Seamus snapped, and Ron held up his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Like I said, it didn't seem right; didn't seem like you. Then I saw how Fred was practically doting on you both. Really weird, especially for him, even though he'd been saying how great you were ever since the War was over."
Seamus gnawed on his lower lip, debating what he was willing to discuss since it was his privilege to keep it all to himself. He scrutinised Ron's face, his boyish looks having chislled into full manhood during the dragging months of the War. It wasn't as though Ron was one to go spouting off about people's personal lives, and Ron had suffered George's death as acutely as anyone could who wasn't Fred.
"We were together. Fred 'n me," Seamus said quietly. "After George and Dean were gone from our unit, I partnered with him, you know that. Well, it was more than that. Loads more."
Ron nodded, mulling over Seamus' revelation, though he didn't seem as taken aback as Seamus had expected.
"I would've done anything for him, but he said we should split up. I didn't really get any kind of say in it. Anyway," Seamus went on, halting Ron before he said something negative about Fred, as that appeared to be his intent, "I got over him. Sortof. Dean and I realised we both wanted to be more than just best mates, and that was fucking brilliant. But from time to time, I kept thinking on Fred. I went to go see him after you suggested it that day at yours 'n Harry's place, and realised I still cared about him even if he'd been a prick. I told him my barking idea of all three of us being together, and he said I wasn't crazy. I think we're all good with each other now, or Dean had decided it would be okay, sometimes, and then I had to go and nearly get both of us killed."
Ron huffed a disbelieving laugh, his fingers pressed firmly against his temple, one elbow on the bedrail. "Well, that does explain some of why that ambric signature amplification worked so well. A threesome? You and Dean, sure, but with Fred?"
"If I had to choose, it'd be Dean," Seamus said frankly, rolling his shoulders back before turning on his side, his eyelids drooping for a second. He'd asked to be taken off of everything except a pain draught twice a day, but he still seemed to fall asleep more often than he normally did. "Hopefully I won't have to. Fred's not the flowery type, but I know how much he cares for me. And he's keen enough on Dean. Look at who Dean called for when we crashed. I know he's become good mates with Harry, but apparently he sent his patronus to Fred."
"I noticed. Well, sorry to pry, and I won't say anything about it unless you give me permission."
"I'd rather you not. Don't know if people'll understand, not that I give a skrewt's bum. But it's still really new. Our business is ours, and unless we have some public ceremony, which is pretty bloody unlikely, I want to keep things that way."
Ron nodded, waving over the two phials of pain potion and an hourly patient schedule with Seamus' name on it. "I'm a Healer. I hear all kinds of things, and I'll keep this to myself."
"Yes, but ye're also my friend," Seamus reminded him, stopping Ron in mid-sentence on the parchment.
"Yeah, I am. Glad that you're happy. All of you." He resumed writing before he looked up again. "And George? He must be having a field day in that portrait of theirs."
"Don't reckon George understands, but he likes having Dean's company."
A rueful, sad expression settled on Ron's face. "That's good. Well, for what it's worth, Fred's seemed much happier recently. He's even growing his hair out again. That's always a good sign."
There was a knock on the door, and Dean's anxious voice said, "Seamus? Can we come in?"
"Yeah!" Seamus called out.
Both Dean and Fred came into the room as Ron stood up, giving Seamus a quick nod and handing him one of the pain draughts.
"Ron's here," Seamus said, and Dean's face relaxed.
"Good. So when can he come home?"
Moving over to Dean, Ron touched him on the arm so Dean knew where he was. He acknowledged Fred, who'd gone to hang up his dragonskin jacket on a peg near the shelf, and Fred tilted his head in return. "Day after tomorrow, I reckon," Ron replied.
"Excellent news," Fred said, casting a spell to widen Seamus' bed so there'd be room for all three of them to spend the night. "Seamus, I've been talking with Dean about a whole new line of products, bit more adult in nature than the regular Wheezes' line."
"Yeah!" Dean chimed in, feeling around carefully until his palm was alongside Seamus' jaw. He leaned down to kiss him on the mouth before unbuttoning his own coat and walking across the room to hang it up, his stick clicking with surety on the floor in front of him.
"Do I really want to know?" Ron asked sarcastically, though intrigue was stamped on his features.
"You might want to try some of them for a laugh. Fred's already got some brilliant ads in mind. He could buy a bit of space in the back of Un-Robed and see what kind of response there is," Dean said excitedly to Ron, who couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
"I'm sure they'll happily take anybody's advertising galleon," Ron said, aiming his wand at the light to dim it to nearly half its usual brightness. "Hyacinth will make her rounds at the usual time. I'll see you all tomorrow."
Seamus contentedly listened to Dean and Fred as they talked about y-fronts with specially-placed engorging charms and make-your-own cock moulds. He joined in with his own thoughts and commentary, all of it interspersed with the occasional snog and warm hands drifting lazily under the blankets as they settled in for the night.
* * * * *
He really hadn't expected his homecoming to be quite so passionate. That being said, it was becoming evermore apparent to Seamus that Dean was actively fostering his own relationship with Fred, and that they'd been spending time together doing more than just talking while Seamus had been recuperating for over a week in hospital. Seamus felt a pang of jealousy at that as he tossed his coat onto the back of the couch, watching as Fred drew Dean to him for a long, slow kiss after the door to their flat was closed. He'd have to get over that, and quickly, if this was going to work out. After his second unexpected brush with death, and plenty of time looking out of the enchanted window or up at the patterns on the ceiling in his hospital room to contemplate just how fortunate he was, he'd decided it was more than worth the discomfort of treading down such a potentially rocky path.
Seamus still walked more cautiously than he had before his accident, but he felt sure that he'd be fully recovered in not too long. He shuffled into the kitchen and got out a glass before going to the pantry. There he found a welcome sight in an unopened bottle of firewhiskey of which he poured himself a healthy serving.
"Don't get too much into that," Dean said playfully, feeling the space around Seamus until his hands settled on Seamus' shoulders.
"There's plenty for all of us," Seamus insisted, but he put the glass down on the counter, basking in Dean's affections and full-body embrace.
"Yeah, but Fred and I have this idea," Dean said, moving his hips suggestively against Seamus' waist.
"Do ye, now?" Seamus glanced around Dean's upper arm to see Fred walking over, a decidedly wicked look on his face.
"Yes, we do." Fred joined in the hug, one arm around each of them, as Dean scooted back a smidge to make room for him.
"I've missed you," Dean said longingly, moving one arm down so he could grab and knead at Seamus' arse.
"Ye've seen me every bloody day," Seamus joked, though he was soon silenced as Fred turned his face to him, his fingers under Seamus' jaw, and kissed him firmly on the mouth. His tongue pressed insistenty until Seamus opened his lips, moaning with soul-deep happiness of being still in one piece and the focus of both Fred's and Dean's attentions.
"Yes, but St. Mungo's isn't exactly a private place," Fred murmured against his lips.
Dean took over, sucking and licking at Seamus' mouth before letting Seamus command the intensity, their tongues plundering deeply in the hot caverns of each other's mouths. This was paradise of a sort, the front of his body pressed against Dean's torso, his awakening erection a sturdy lump against Seamus' hip. And Fred was now behind him, nipping at his exposed neck, grinding his own arousal into the cleft of Seamus' arse.
After a few minutes Seamus pulled away from Dean, breathing heavily and his heart drumming in his chest like heavy rain pummelling the roof during a storm. "Does this mean we get to shag?" he asked hoarsely, still not quite daring to believe that this long hoped-for moment had truly arrived.
"It better. I'm as horny as a…" Dean said, his voice trailing off. "Well, I don't know what, but I've missed you, Shay, and was so fucking miserable there in the ditch. Thought I'd lost you— again—"
"Proved you wrong," Seamus said tenderly, pulling him even closer while keeping his back pressed firmly against Fred's strong chest.
"Fred told me you'd pull through, no problem," Dean went on, his hands wandering from Seamus' hips to slide farther to Fred's back.
"And I was right," Fred said, his husky voice and warm solidity further inflaming Seamus' senses. "I think we deserve a thorough fucking, all three, together. I've been far more celibate than either of you." He nuzzled into the soft waves of hair on Seamus' head and his knees nearly gave way. He'd not even wanked while at St. Mungo's, and his imagination had taken Fred's and Dean's comments and created a multi-ringed circus of positions and possibilities for all of them to get off. All at once, a key element to their coupling, or tripling, nagged at him and he asked the question immediately.
"Fred, will you stay, after? Spend the night, in bed, I mean? Right, Dean?"
It seemed of supreme importance that if they were together, properly shagging, that they not split up right afterwards. Dean nodded vigorously.
"We've been sleeping together a few nights. I know it's our place, but I'd feel really badly if you left afterwards. Unless you'd prefer to sleep alone…" There was uncertainty in Dean's voice. Seamus wondered for a split second if Dean didn't hope, deep down, that Fred would decline, even though his expression held nothing but optimistic expectation.
"No, I'll stay. Thank you."
An insistent meowing broke the moment of its solemnity.
"Bloody cat," Seamus grumbled as Dean gave him a disapproving look. Seamus moved his hands behind him to cup Fred's jeans-clad arse. "Fuck," he groaned, arching his erection into Dean's. "I want ye both so much. Can we go to bed now?"
"Love to," Dean replied as Fred rumbled his assent. "I'll feed Kipper and meet you two in just a minute."
Once they were all in the bedroom, while being honorifically undressed by Fred, Dean suggested that Seamus enlarge the bed to an appropriate size. After doing so, Seamus Accio'ed two mostly-empty tubes of lubricant, making a face when he saw how low their stash was.
"I've got some in a jacket pocket if we need it," Fred reassured him. He ran his hands down to Dean's groin, palming his heavy cock until Dean got on to him about not being naked. Seamus watched their easy banter with some awe; he'd not ever seen them act so uninhibited and casual in their interactions. It made him want to jump into their very middle, as though their affections were warm mud he could squish between his toes, tactile and slightly indecent.
"I'm so glad I didn't fucking die," Seamus said out of the blue as he threw his balled-up t-shirt into a corner. He sat down in the centre of the bed, pulling the covers back.
"I'll second that," Dean said fervently. "Or me."
"I really, really am not good at funerals," Fred said, the old woundedness flaring in his eyes in a manner reminiscent to what Seamus had seen so often during their joined past.
"C'mere, both of you," Seamus pleaded. A wide grin slipped onto his face once he was flanked by Fred's stocky frame on one side and Dean's leaner form on the other. "So. How're we gonna do this?" He idly stroked Dean's long shaft, relishing the heat of it in his palm. "I've thought of a few ways, 'o course, but you two seem to have been up to something yourselves."
"I'd forgotten how much you talk in bed," Fred said bemusedly, rubbing his stiff cock into Seamus' thigh.
"Yeah, he's chatty. 'S alright," Dean said, kissing Seamus soundly, his tongue swirling around Seamus' like a lolly. His long fingers grasped around the base of Seamus' cock and he began pulling up and down, tugging down the foreskin at the crown before cupping and rolling his bollocks. Fred's erotic assault was on his chest as he pinched and nibbled on his hard nipples, and Seamus writhed under their attentions. He'd turned his head to kiss Fred, whose aggressiveness was a contrast to Dean's gentler but no less passionate gestures.
It could have gone on forever and Seamus would have been content, a cock in each hand, being kissed and wanked by the two men he cared for most in the world. Fred drew away for a moment and Seamus eased himself over so he could lie fully on top of Dean, luxuriating in the gingermusk scent captured in the hollows of his arms and of the hot sliding of their erections. He murmured words of gratitude and forever and love and fucking, unable to shut up until, with a low laugh, Dean hushed his sappy monologue with a kiss as deep and deliberate as waves far out on the sea. Seamus' exposed backside became Fred's focus as he played with the cleft, dragging his swollen, slicked cock along it before using it to hit his arse cheeks with a smacking tattoo.
"Oh fuck," Seamus groaned, flexing his arse as Fred chuckled, low and rough.
"Yeah, there'll be some of that," Fred promised.
Seamus could only manage more inarticulate sounds of neediness and desperation, grinding against Dean while Fred continued his teasing between his cheeks, rubbing the greased cockhead against his opening.
"Can I be in ye?" Seamus asked into the side of Dean's neck. He loved the feel of being filled and stretched, but he certainly wasn't opposed to doing some topping on occasion.
"Yeah. Don't know that I want both of your weights on me, though," Dean said, his own voice raspy.
"Seamus, why don't you get on your back. Dean, you can ride him from on top, and I'll take care of his fine arse from the edge of the bed."
"Holy fucking Merlin, you've got the best ideas," Seamus growled. "Dean?"
Dean replied by raising his hips and sliding his hands down so they massaged Seamus' backside. He smoothed across Seamus' arsecheek before spreading his fingers out to feel up Fred's cock for a few moments. He scooted sideways, presumably for Seamus to do exactly as Fred had suggested.
"Works for me," Dean said. "Lube?"
It took more manoeuvring than Seamus had counted on, and some bumped knees and laughed-off apologies, but soon he found himself in a place he'd truly only dreamed of. Knees splayed, he was spread out under Dean, who'd eased Seamus' shaft into himself as he slowly sat down. Fred stood at the edge of the bed, having cast a spell to raise it a few inches so he was the right height to thrust into Seamus' ready hole.
"Oh gods. Fuck, you both, oh holy fuck," Seamus moaned enthusiastically, both full and burning with Fred's relentless pushing into his body, and his own cock clenched by Dean's hot channel. He couldn't really move; he let his lovers set their own paces, using his cock and arse to derive their own satisfaction to a grunted symphony of sex. Seamus reached out to fist Dean's shaft, but Dean took himself in hand, saying, "I want to. Love feeling you in me, Shay," before words failed him as well.
There was something so hedonistic, so liberating in his being used. Seamus couldn't articulate it, only feelings could suffice. Fred was battering his hole, burying himself deep and fast before pulling back and thrusting more shallowly, his expression one of concentrated introspection. Dean rode up and down, using his legs as Seamus tried to jerk his hips up to meet him, but mostly he let them toy with his body. He sank into the molten wantonness of it all, the pleasure coiling in his groin as they individually sped up or slowed down, using Seamus to get off. Seamus' shaft and tight channel were there solely for their pleasure. Fred came first, his ragged shouts and grabbing fingers on Seamus' knees announcing his release. Dean took his time, bumping down on Seamus again and again even as Seamus felt his own orgasm build and spiral out of him. He yelled as his release shot through him, and Dean slowed his movements to a halt. He smiled open-mouthed, resting on his feet with Seamus still buried far inside of him.
Seamus lay, boneless, feeling Fred's spent prick ease out of him, and he let out a soft cry of loss.
"Feel so amazing, Shay," Dean said, his rough voice saturated with barely-contained need.
"Come on me," Seamus begged. Dean busied himself with his upright shaft, fisting it with fast motions until he threw his head back and came silently, the warm splatters falling in creamy streaks on Seamus' stomach. Ever so slowly, Dean raised his head back upright, letting loose of his turgid shaft and wiping the fluid on his thigh.
To Seamus' surprise, Fred moved closely behind Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing along the angle of jutting shoulder that flared from his neck. "I want you to come on me next time," Fred rumbled, his darkened eyes stealing over to catch Seamus' gaze. "You really are sexy."
"Maybe I'll come in you," Dean said, a hint of tease in the words as he traced small semi-circles in the cooling puddle on Seamus' abdomen.
Seamus gaped, but managed just barely to hold his tongue. He couldn't expect Dean and Fred to focus on him all the time; hadn't Fred said exactly that? How bloody annoying, for Fred to be right. Seamus' heart might well get bruised to think of Dean and Fred getting off without him as a participant, even if that was ferociously hypocritical of him. He completely imagined himself being with one or the other, though he hoped most of the time from this point on, their sex would be all together.
"Maybe you will," Fred replied finally, tugging gently on Dean's jaw.
He kissed him in an unhurried, tender way Seamus could only acknowledge to himself as loving. Seamus watched, allowing only a pinprick of sulking and left-out-ness to pierce him before accepting that this was a necessary part of the equation. He'd never studied Arithmancy, but even in that fantastical realm of theory, he believed there was no formula written anywhere to encompass the number of intersections and divisions for three men, together.
And that was okay.
Dean eased off Seamus and Terego spells were cast all around. Seamus said he was famished and complained that the food at St. Mungo's had been as bland and tepid as the tea. Dean seconded the sentiment. After putting on some comfortable clothes, Dean and Seamus busied themselves in the kitchen with a semi-usual dinner routine. Fred made a disparaging comment into their fridge about a lack of ale, to which Dean said, "Shop's not far off. I like Skullsplitters."
Dean had spoken and smiled meaningfully without turning to face Fred, a trait he'd picked up due to his blindness, and that Seamus had gotten used to. Fred came over and draped an arm behind Dean's back.
"You have good taste. I'll be back in a few minutes. Need anything else, Seamus, for your welcome home feast? Anything your mad Irish heart desires?"
Seamus looked at the pasta he'd put on to boil, at Dean having set two knives to chopping up the absolute basics for a salad, and Fred's mirth-filled eyes, nearly covered by his long, fiery fringe.
"No. All I need's here," he said simply.
~ end ~
Epilogue to follow...
Title: Strange-Eyed Constellation
Pairing(s): Past Fred/Seamus, Seamus/Dean, eventual Fred/Seamus/Dean, Ron/Harry
Rating: This chapter definitely NC-17; threesome sex
Summary: War can make strange bedfellows; peacetime allows kindred spirits to join together. Seamus discovers both, and in being true to the baffling desires of his heart, believes that love needn't come exclusively in pairs.
A/N: my thanks to
auntee_mame and wolfiekins for the written beta for these last two chapters. Strange to think that this is coming to a close, but it seemed right. That being said, there's still an Epilogue to come. :)The title comes from Thomas Hardy's poem "Drummer Hodge."
Previous Posts:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Soaring… he was carried on a current, or wave, it was too vague, and he knew he was safe, cradled and secure. He was held up, buoyant, a comforting voice murmuring above and below, the words shimmering as they flowed through him. He was restricted, unable to wave his arms and legs like he wanted, but the words were soothing and then he heard another familiar sound. It was intermittent, washing over him and vanishing, and he really wanted to get up, to be on solid ground, and the noise was a snuffling, sleepy one, and Dean could tell him… where was…
Seamus struggled into wakefulness, out of the unconscious realm that was so appealing and kept pulling at him, tugging him back to sleep. The sound that had finally roused him was a perplexing one, a regular huff and low whistle, but reassuring in a manner that frustratingly he couldn't place. He lay still, his eyes closed, feeling disembodied and trying to figure out where he was, though inexplicably he wasn't worried. Once his mind decided grudgingly to filter some knowledge to him like sand trickling through an hourglass, it became obvious what the sound was: someone was snoring. Someone he knew well. Happy that he'd solved the mystery, he began to slide back into that world of peace and gentleness. But now he'd been awake long enough to begin to wonder what was going on, and an undercurrent of dismay lapped at the periphery of his thoughts. He'd have to ask Dean—
"Seamus. You're okay. Don't fight it, you had to be bound up a bit, and there was a lot of internal bleeding, but you're going to be fine."
Fred's voice was a salve to Seamus' frantic thoughts. He'd not even been able to get any words out, just a rasping, panicked breath that was little more than a wheeze. His eyelids felt heavier than a tonne of bricks, but he had to see where he was…
"Oh, Shay. Thank Merlin, you've come 'round. I'm here, we're both here, you're okay. Really, mate, I'm not taking the piss."
Dean's welcome baritone sounded like the call of an angel. With a torrent of images, he remembered the crash on his motorbike, his body hurtling through the air, and the horrible pain after he'd landed. Gratefully, he closed his eyes again. Now that his faculties had decided to do their job, the smell alone was enough for him to know he was in hospital, the room was dark, and he was alive.
"Dean?" he croaked, turning his head to the left even as he pieced together the puzzle of the heavy warmth across his ribs. Dean was curled up on one side, Fred on the other.
"Yes. 'M here," he murmured against the side of Seamus' face, his breath tickling his ear. "You've been out a while, but they got you all patched up. Me too."
"Fuck, Dean, 'm so sorry," Seamus said, feeling as though he had gravel in his chest. He tried clearing his throat, with some success.
"Do you remember what happened?" Fred asked softly, nuzzling Seamus' jaw. The audible grating sound let Seamus know that he had indeed been unconscious for several days, as his beard took a few days to grow in.
"Deer. Jumped into the road."
"Wondered what'd happened," Dean murmured.
"You sent out your patronus," Seamus said through a yawn. He felt so safe, knowing he hadn't died, and neither had Dean. Maybe it'd be okay to slide back into sleep, Dean and Fred's arms crossed over him like living shields. Dean had saved them. And who had come…?
"I did." Dean's voice wasn't proud, but Seamus could hear the self-satisfaction and worth in his tone, and he smiled.
"You saved me." Seamus felt both Dean's and Fred's arms tighten imperceptibly around him.
"Yeah. But Fred helped."
Fred snorted outright at that. Though he was now dawdling on the verge of sleep, not even half-awake anymore, Seamus sensed Fred and Dean's arms straightening enough to be able to intertwine their fingers, their clasped hands resting on his abdomen. He could only marvel at the miracle of his heart still beating in his chest, Fred and Dean alive and with him, before he returned to his unconscious world.
* * * * *
"I'm done joking about this," Ron said gravely. He stood over Seamus' bed, his hands holding loosely onto the railing. "I don't want to keep seeing you here. You're worse off each time, and I'm really terrible at funerals."
Seamus smiled in a manner he hoped was endearing, easing up to more of a sitting position in his bed. "I promise to stay out of St. Mungo's. You won't find me here troubling you again."
Ron cocked a glance at the door, then looked down at Seamus, his eyebrows raised. "Can we talk? Privately? Not about your accident, something else."
"Yeah. All right."
Seamus winced as he pulled the institutional blanket further up so that it covered his shoulders. Ron aimed his wand at the door and it closed, the latch snicking into place.
Between Ron, Dean, Fred and Harry, Seamus had been told all about the innovative and effective healing Ron had engaged in after Fred had managed to get Dean and him to the hospital in the first place. Dean's patronus had relayed the panicked message and Fred had followed. He'd used a tracking spell they'd used during the War since obviously Dean couldn't describe where they were, other than in a ditch somewhere between the pub and their flat. Dean's wounds had been mostly superficial, though his broken elbow had been excruciating for him until it was mended. A Healer who specialised in Muggle-caused maladies had done the most work on Seamus, but it had been Ron's idea yet again to make the most of their similar ambric signatures as a way to expediate Seamus' recovery. He'd cast a dampening spell to keep most other magic out of the room, and used an archaic device shaped like a megaphone to amplify Dean's and Fred's ambric energy. Aside from trips to the bathroom, they'd spent the better part of three days next to Seamus, the topological suffusion of their magical energies providing an extra level of strength to Seamus' own as he lay in a forced unconscious state. Ron had released that spell the night before, when Seamus had awakened naturally.
Seamus was strong enough now to be given a tentative release date in a couple of days, and Dean had already resumed his usual daily activities. He and Fred came back to St. Mungo's in the evenings to sleep alongsde him, their attuned magical signatures providing the comfort and safety Seamus had felt while first in his imposed stasis. It was also an opportunity for some very tame, but erotically charged hours, and Seamus was convinced that element hadn't taken Ron by surprise.
Now Ron sat in the chair he'd pulled over to Seamus' bedside, his wand handle poking out of his coat pocket.
"If this is too personal, you can tell me to shove off," Ron said, though his tone sounded more demanding than friendly.
"All right."
"You and Dean— you're happy, right? You seem to be doing well. He's always telling Harry how great things are between you. I'm not so thrilled about the idea of a cat wandering around him, but I suppose that's up to you two."
"It was bound to happen," Seamus said with a sigh, testing the pain level in his ankles as he rolled them slightly. There was almost none, just a disorienting elasticity until the tendons tightened fully on the bone again. "He'd been doting on Kipper for ages. But yeah, we're good. Really good."
"Mmmm hmmmm." Ron chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before focussing his keen, blue-eyed gaze on to Seamus. "So what's Fred got to do with it? Your business is your business, but I've noticed you a couple of times, before your accident, when you seemed more in each other's pockets than you should've been, if you're just friends. And since Dean can't see…" his voice trailed off, the implication heavy with disapproval.
Anger bristled into Seamus' chest. "I'd never cheat on him like that," Seamus said scathingly. "Things aren't as neat and tidy like you and Harry, and there's stuff from the past you've got no clue about. We're all together, like. And I think you kind of knew that, or guessed it, what with having them both with me to speed up my healing. Right?"
Ron's indignant expression metamorphosed into one of grudging acceptance. "Yeah. Didn't feel comfortable asking Dean, and Fred outright said he wasn't talking about anything that had to do with you two except that you were friends. It was obvious to me that there was more going on, but I couldn't make sense of it. I didn't like the thought of you taking advantage of Dean—"
"I wasn't," Seamus snapped, and Ron held up his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Like I said, it didn't seem right; didn't seem like you. Then I saw how Fred was practically doting on you both. Really weird, especially for him, even though he'd been saying how great you were ever since the War was over."
Seamus gnawed on his lower lip, debating what he was willing to discuss since it was his privilege to keep it all to himself. He scrutinised Ron's face, his boyish looks having chislled into full manhood during the dragging months of the War. It wasn't as though Ron was one to go spouting off about people's personal lives, and Ron had suffered George's death as acutely as anyone could who wasn't Fred.
"We were together. Fred 'n me," Seamus said quietly. "After George and Dean were gone from our unit, I partnered with him, you know that. Well, it was more than that. Loads more."
Ron nodded, mulling over Seamus' revelation, though he didn't seem as taken aback as Seamus had expected.
"I would've done anything for him, but he said we should split up. I didn't really get any kind of say in it. Anyway," Seamus went on, halting Ron before he said something negative about Fred, as that appeared to be his intent, "I got over him. Sortof. Dean and I realised we both wanted to be more than just best mates, and that was fucking brilliant. But from time to time, I kept thinking on Fred. I went to go see him after you suggested it that day at yours 'n Harry's place, and realised I still cared about him even if he'd been a prick. I told him my barking idea of all three of us being together, and he said I wasn't crazy. I think we're all good with each other now, or Dean had decided it would be okay, sometimes, and then I had to go and nearly get both of us killed."
Ron huffed a disbelieving laugh, his fingers pressed firmly against his temple, one elbow on the bedrail. "Well, that does explain some of why that ambric signature amplification worked so well. A threesome? You and Dean, sure, but with Fred?"
"If I had to choose, it'd be Dean," Seamus said frankly, rolling his shoulders back before turning on his side, his eyelids drooping for a second. He'd asked to be taken off of everything except a pain draught twice a day, but he still seemed to fall asleep more often than he normally did. "Hopefully I won't have to. Fred's not the flowery type, but I know how much he cares for me. And he's keen enough on Dean. Look at who Dean called for when we crashed. I know he's become good mates with Harry, but apparently he sent his patronus to Fred."
"I noticed. Well, sorry to pry, and I won't say anything about it unless you give me permission."
"I'd rather you not. Don't know if people'll understand, not that I give a skrewt's bum. But it's still really new. Our business is ours, and unless we have some public ceremony, which is pretty bloody unlikely, I want to keep things that way."
Ron nodded, waving over the two phials of pain potion and an hourly patient schedule with Seamus' name on it. "I'm a Healer. I hear all kinds of things, and I'll keep this to myself."
"Yes, but ye're also my friend," Seamus reminded him, stopping Ron in mid-sentence on the parchment.
"Yeah, I am. Glad that you're happy. All of you." He resumed writing before he looked up again. "And George? He must be having a field day in that portrait of theirs."
"Don't reckon George understands, but he likes having Dean's company."
A rueful, sad expression settled on Ron's face. "That's good. Well, for what it's worth, Fred's seemed much happier recently. He's even growing his hair out again. That's always a good sign."
There was a knock on the door, and Dean's anxious voice said, "Seamus? Can we come in?"
"Yeah!" Seamus called out.
Both Dean and Fred came into the room as Ron stood up, giving Seamus a quick nod and handing him one of the pain draughts.
"Ron's here," Seamus said, and Dean's face relaxed.
"Good. So when can he come home?"
Moving over to Dean, Ron touched him on the arm so Dean knew where he was. He acknowledged Fred, who'd gone to hang up his dragonskin jacket on a peg near the shelf, and Fred tilted his head in return. "Day after tomorrow, I reckon," Ron replied.
"Excellent news," Fred said, casting a spell to widen Seamus' bed so there'd be room for all three of them to spend the night. "Seamus, I've been talking with Dean about a whole new line of products, bit more adult in nature than the regular Wheezes' line."
"Yeah!" Dean chimed in, feeling around carefully until his palm was alongside Seamus' jaw. He leaned down to kiss him on the mouth before unbuttoning his own coat and walking across the room to hang it up, his stick clicking with surety on the floor in front of him.
"Do I really want to know?" Ron asked sarcastically, though intrigue was stamped on his features.
"You might want to try some of them for a laugh. Fred's already got some brilliant ads in mind. He could buy a bit of space in the back of Un-Robed and see what kind of response there is," Dean said excitedly to Ron, who couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
"I'm sure they'll happily take anybody's advertising galleon," Ron said, aiming his wand at the light to dim it to nearly half its usual brightness. "Hyacinth will make her rounds at the usual time. I'll see you all tomorrow."
Seamus contentedly listened to Dean and Fred as they talked about y-fronts with specially-placed engorging charms and make-your-own cock moulds. He joined in with his own thoughts and commentary, all of it interspersed with the occasional snog and warm hands drifting lazily under the blankets as they settled in for the night.
* * * * *
He really hadn't expected his homecoming to be quite so passionate. That being said, it was becoming evermore apparent to Seamus that Dean was actively fostering his own relationship with Fred, and that they'd been spending time together doing more than just talking while Seamus had been recuperating for over a week in hospital. Seamus felt a pang of jealousy at that as he tossed his coat onto the back of the couch, watching as Fred drew Dean to him for a long, slow kiss after the door to their flat was closed. He'd have to get over that, and quickly, if this was going to work out. After his second unexpected brush with death, and plenty of time looking out of the enchanted window or up at the patterns on the ceiling in his hospital room to contemplate just how fortunate he was, he'd decided it was more than worth the discomfort of treading down such a potentially rocky path.
Seamus still walked more cautiously than he had before his accident, but he felt sure that he'd be fully recovered in not too long. He shuffled into the kitchen and got out a glass before going to the pantry. There he found a welcome sight in an unopened bottle of firewhiskey of which he poured himself a healthy serving.
"Don't get too much into that," Dean said playfully, feeling the space around Seamus until his hands settled on Seamus' shoulders.
"There's plenty for all of us," Seamus insisted, but he put the glass down on the counter, basking in Dean's affections and full-body embrace.
"Yeah, but Fred and I have this idea," Dean said, moving his hips suggestively against Seamus' waist.
"Do ye, now?" Seamus glanced around Dean's upper arm to see Fred walking over, a decidedly wicked look on his face.
"Yes, we do." Fred joined in the hug, one arm around each of them, as Dean scooted back a smidge to make room for him.
"I've missed you," Dean said longingly, moving one arm down so he could grab and knead at Seamus' arse.
"Ye've seen me every bloody day," Seamus joked, though he was soon silenced as Fred turned his face to him, his fingers under Seamus' jaw, and kissed him firmly on the mouth. His tongue pressed insistenty until Seamus opened his lips, moaning with soul-deep happiness of being still in one piece and the focus of both Fred's and Dean's attentions.
"Yes, but St. Mungo's isn't exactly a private place," Fred murmured against his lips.
Dean took over, sucking and licking at Seamus' mouth before letting Seamus command the intensity, their tongues plundering deeply in the hot caverns of each other's mouths. This was paradise of a sort, the front of his body pressed against Dean's torso, his awakening erection a sturdy lump against Seamus' hip. And Fred was now behind him, nipping at his exposed neck, grinding his own arousal into the cleft of Seamus' arse.
After a few minutes Seamus pulled away from Dean, breathing heavily and his heart drumming in his chest like heavy rain pummelling the roof during a storm. "Does this mean we get to shag?" he asked hoarsely, still not quite daring to believe that this long hoped-for moment had truly arrived.
"It better. I'm as horny as a…" Dean said, his voice trailing off. "Well, I don't know what, but I've missed you, Shay, and was so fucking miserable there in the ditch. Thought I'd lost you— again—"
"Proved you wrong," Seamus said tenderly, pulling him even closer while keeping his back pressed firmly against Fred's strong chest.
"Fred told me you'd pull through, no problem," Dean went on, his hands wandering from Seamus' hips to slide farther to Fred's back.
"And I was right," Fred said, his husky voice and warm solidity further inflaming Seamus' senses. "I think we deserve a thorough fucking, all three, together. I've been far more celibate than either of you." He nuzzled into the soft waves of hair on Seamus' head and his knees nearly gave way. He'd not even wanked while at St. Mungo's, and his imagination had taken Fred's and Dean's comments and created a multi-ringed circus of positions and possibilities for all of them to get off. All at once, a key element to their coupling, or tripling, nagged at him and he asked the question immediately.
"Fred, will you stay, after? Spend the night, in bed, I mean? Right, Dean?"
It seemed of supreme importance that if they were together, properly shagging, that they not split up right afterwards. Dean nodded vigorously.
"We've been sleeping together a few nights. I know it's our place, but I'd feel really badly if you left afterwards. Unless you'd prefer to sleep alone…" There was uncertainty in Dean's voice. Seamus wondered for a split second if Dean didn't hope, deep down, that Fred would decline, even though his expression held nothing but optimistic expectation.
"No, I'll stay. Thank you."
An insistent meowing broke the moment of its solemnity.
"Bloody cat," Seamus grumbled as Dean gave him a disapproving look. Seamus moved his hands behind him to cup Fred's jeans-clad arse. "Fuck," he groaned, arching his erection into Dean's. "I want ye both so much. Can we go to bed now?"
"Love to," Dean replied as Fred rumbled his assent. "I'll feed Kipper and meet you two in just a minute."
Once they were all in the bedroom, while being honorifically undressed by Fred, Dean suggested that Seamus enlarge the bed to an appropriate size. After doing so, Seamus Accio'ed two mostly-empty tubes of lubricant, making a face when he saw how low their stash was.
"I've got some in a jacket pocket if we need it," Fred reassured him. He ran his hands down to Dean's groin, palming his heavy cock until Dean got on to him about not being naked. Seamus watched their easy banter with some awe; he'd not ever seen them act so uninhibited and casual in their interactions. It made him want to jump into their very middle, as though their affections were warm mud he could squish between his toes, tactile and slightly indecent.
"I'm so glad I didn't fucking die," Seamus said out of the blue as he threw his balled-up t-shirt into a corner. He sat down in the centre of the bed, pulling the covers back.
"I'll second that," Dean said fervently. "Or me."
"I really, really am not good at funerals," Fred said, the old woundedness flaring in his eyes in a manner reminiscent to what Seamus had seen so often during their joined past.
"C'mere, both of you," Seamus pleaded. A wide grin slipped onto his face once he was flanked by Fred's stocky frame on one side and Dean's leaner form on the other. "So. How're we gonna do this?" He idly stroked Dean's long shaft, relishing the heat of it in his palm. "I've thought of a few ways, 'o course, but you two seem to have been up to something yourselves."
"I'd forgotten how much you talk in bed," Fred said bemusedly, rubbing his stiff cock into Seamus' thigh.
"Yeah, he's chatty. 'S alright," Dean said, kissing Seamus soundly, his tongue swirling around Seamus' like a lolly. His long fingers grasped around the base of Seamus' cock and he began pulling up and down, tugging down the foreskin at the crown before cupping and rolling his bollocks. Fred's erotic assault was on his chest as he pinched and nibbled on his hard nipples, and Seamus writhed under their attentions. He'd turned his head to kiss Fred, whose aggressiveness was a contrast to Dean's gentler but no less passionate gestures.
It could have gone on forever and Seamus would have been content, a cock in each hand, being kissed and wanked by the two men he cared for most in the world. Fred drew away for a moment and Seamus eased himself over so he could lie fully on top of Dean, luxuriating in the gingermusk scent captured in the hollows of his arms and of the hot sliding of their erections. He murmured words of gratitude and forever and love and fucking, unable to shut up until, with a low laugh, Dean hushed his sappy monologue with a kiss as deep and deliberate as waves far out on the sea. Seamus' exposed backside became Fred's focus as he played with the cleft, dragging his swollen, slicked cock along it before using it to hit his arse cheeks with a smacking tattoo.
"Oh fuck," Seamus groaned, flexing his arse as Fred chuckled, low and rough.
"Yeah, there'll be some of that," Fred promised.
Seamus could only manage more inarticulate sounds of neediness and desperation, grinding against Dean while Fred continued his teasing between his cheeks, rubbing the greased cockhead against his opening.
"Can I be in ye?" Seamus asked into the side of Dean's neck. He loved the feel of being filled and stretched, but he certainly wasn't opposed to doing some topping on occasion.
"Yeah. Don't know that I want both of your weights on me, though," Dean said, his own voice raspy.
"Seamus, why don't you get on your back. Dean, you can ride him from on top, and I'll take care of his fine arse from the edge of the bed."
"Holy fucking Merlin, you've got the best ideas," Seamus growled. "Dean?"
Dean replied by raising his hips and sliding his hands down so they massaged Seamus' backside. He smoothed across Seamus' arsecheek before spreading his fingers out to feel up Fred's cock for a few moments. He scooted sideways, presumably for Seamus to do exactly as Fred had suggested.
"Works for me," Dean said. "Lube?"
It took more manoeuvring than Seamus had counted on, and some bumped knees and laughed-off apologies, but soon he found himself in a place he'd truly only dreamed of. Knees splayed, he was spread out under Dean, who'd eased Seamus' shaft into himself as he slowly sat down. Fred stood at the edge of the bed, having cast a spell to raise it a few inches so he was the right height to thrust into Seamus' ready hole.
"Oh gods. Fuck, you both, oh holy fuck," Seamus moaned enthusiastically, both full and burning with Fred's relentless pushing into his body, and his own cock clenched by Dean's hot channel. He couldn't really move; he let his lovers set their own paces, using his cock and arse to derive their own satisfaction to a grunted symphony of sex. Seamus reached out to fist Dean's shaft, but Dean took himself in hand, saying, "I want to. Love feeling you in me, Shay," before words failed him as well.
There was something so hedonistic, so liberating in his being used. Seamus couldn't articulate it, only feelings could suffice. Fred was battering his hole, burying himself deep and fast before pulling back and thrusting more shallowly, his expression one of concentrated introspection. Dean rode up and down, using his legs as Seamus tried to jerk his hips up to meet him, but mostly he let them toy with his body. He sank into the molten wantonness of it all, the pleasure coiling in his groin as they individually sped up or slowed down, using Seamus to get off. Seamus' shaft and tight channel were there solely for their pleasure. Fred came first, his ragged shouts and grabbing fingers on Seamus' knees announcing his release. Dean took his time, bumping down on Seamus again and again even as Seamus felt his own orgasm build and spiral out of him. He yelled as his release shot through him, and Dean slowed his movements to a halt. He smiled open-mouthed, resting on his feet with Seamus still buried far inside of him.
Seamus lay, boneless, feeling Fred's spent prick ease out of him, and he let out a soft cry of loss.
"Feel so amazing, Shay," Dean said, his rough voice saturated with barely-contained need.
"Come on me," Seamus begged. Dean busied himself with his upright shaft, fisting it with fast motions until he threw his head back and came silently, the warm splatters falling in creamy streaks on Seamus' stomach. Ever so slowly, Dean raised his head back upright, letting loose of his turgid shaft and wiping the fluid on his thigh.
To Seamus' surprise, Fred moved closely behind Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing along the angle of jutting shoulder that flared from his neck. "I want you to come on me next time," Fred rumbled, his darkened eyes stealing over to catch Seamus' gaze. "You really are sexy."
"Maybe I'll come in you," Dean said, a hint of tease in the words as he traced small semi-circles in the cooling puddle on Seamus' abdomen.
Seamus gaped, but managed just barely to hold his tongue. He couldn't expect Dean and Fred to focus on him all the time; hadn't Fred said exactly that? How bloody annoying, for Fred to be right. Seamus' heart might well get bruised to think of Dean and Fred getting off without him as a participant, even if that was ferociously hypocritical of him. He completely imagined himself being with one or the other, though he hoped most of the time from this point on, their sex would be all together.
"Maybe you will," Fred replied finally, tugging gently on Dean's jaw.
He kissed him in an unhurried, tender way Seamus could only acknowledge to himself as loving. Seamus watched, allowing only a pinprick of sulking and left-out-ness to pierce him before accepting that this was a necessary part of the equation. He'd never studied Arithmancy, but even in that fantastical realm of theory, he believed there was no formula written anywhere to encompass the number of intersections and divisions for three men, together.
And that was okay.
Dean eased off Seamus and Terego spells were cast all around. Seamus said he was famished and complained that the food at St. Mungo's had been as bland and tepid as the tea. Dean seconded the sentiment. After putting on some comfortable clothes, Dean and Seamus busied themselves in the kitchen with a semi-usual dinner routine. Fred made a disparaging comment into their fridge about a lack of ale, to which Dean said, "Shop's not far off. I like Skullsplitters."
Dean had spoken and smiled meaningfully without turning to face Fred, a trait he'd picked up due to his blindness, and that Seamus had gotten used to. Fred came over and draped an arm behind Dean's back.
"You have good taste. I'll be back in a few minutes. Need anything else, Seamus, for your welcome home feast? Anything your mad Irish heart desires?"
Seamus looked at the pasta he'd put on to boil, at Dean having set two knives to chopping up the absolute basics for a salad, and Fred's mirth-filled eyes, nearly covered by his long, fiery fringe.
"No. All I need's here," he said simply.
Epilogue to follow...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-28 02:28 am (UTC)*grins*
Sorry 'bout that.
A fabulous close to an absolutely, totally enjoyable story! I can't say how thrilled and honoured I am to have been with you from the start...
I've said repeatedly how much I adore your Seamus...he's perfect, so brash, outwardly confident, but wonderfully thoughtful deep down.
I so enjoy the visual of Fred and Dean flanking him in the hospital bed, their arms across Seamus' chest...so good! I also appreciated how Dean and Fred had grown closer during Seamus' convalescence, as well as Seamus' realization that while he may have gotten more than he bargained for, it's well worth it.
The trio sex...um, yes...quite hot, and very, VERY stimulating! Lucky Seamus!
And the most powerful scene, when they're all three in the kitchen, preparing dinner...the final line from Seamus...yeah, you got me. Gettin' all mooshy again thinking about it. Brilliant, luv.
I'm so glad you decided to share this with us...can't wait for the, um, e...epi...well, you know!
*grins*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-28 02:38 pm (UTC)As I've said time and time again, this fic would never have progressed this long without your listening ear to guide and listen and at times, console when I wasn't sure where to go or if it even mattered anymore. I'm especially glad that the hot parts were hot, and that some of the imagery you found especially touching. I'll probably have the E-word done by the end of the week-end; it's coming along pretty quickly. And I'm mowing today; you know what that means, lol!!!
Thank you for your part in this; couldn't have done it without you, truly. XOX