the_water_clock: abstract painting (Untitled (Seagram Mural) 1959)
[personal profile] the_water_clock
Author: Clio
Title: Or, the White Whale
Pairing: Harry Potter: Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Rating: R
Prompt: 081—How?
Summary: The night before the Quidditch World Cup, Seamus is so hyper Dean doesn't think they'll ever get to sleep. But Seamus, as usual, has An Idea.
Warning: Seamus and Dean are 14 here, though they are not sexual with each other.
Length: 1600 words
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: I had been working on this and realized I should spiff it up before the 2006 FIFA World Cup ends, especially after seeing seviet's lovely drawing. The title of the story is the second title of Moby Dick, and I was thinking about Ishmael and Queequeg a lot while I was writing this. Thanks so much to [ profile] wordplay, [ profile] moony, [ profile] sisterpandora and [ profile] evil_erato for taking a look at it!

How it is I know not; but there is no place like a bed for confidential disclosures between friends.
—Herman Melville, Moby Dick

Dean Thomas had thought, after three years as roommates and best friends, that he understood Seamus Finnigan and had finally got used to how much energy his mate had. At school, based on what Seamus had been eating that day and his general activity level, he could predict within twenty minutes when Seamus would hit the wall and either collapse where he stood (necessitating a carry/push upstairs—good thing he was small) or fall into a funk and lament over his lot in life (necessitating a pep talk, which was fine as Seamus always gave one right back, not to mention on other occasions as needed).

But those three years had left him woefully unprepared for sharing a room in a tent with a boy who had consumed his weight in sweets, crisps and other junk and whose team was about to play in the final of the World Cup. Mrs. Finnigan had grown so exasperated with her only son that she’d given up and put up a silencing charm—fine for her; she was outside the room. Dean was still inside and it was nearing one a.m. with no relief in sight.

Dean was sitting on the bed, sketching nothing in particular because he was so tired, while Seamus talked a blue streak and did tumbles on the floor in front of the door. Then he twisted his body and sprung in such a way that he landed, feet first, on the bed.

“Oi, watch it!” Dean growled.

“Wasn’t gonna hit ya,” Seamus said as he jumped on the bed.

“Man you have got to calm down,” Dean said, finally giving up on drawing. He closed his sketchbook and put his pad and pencil box on the bedside table.

Seamus’s jumping slowed to a bounce as he thought. “Well, you know what puts me right to sleep,” he said, grinning.

“Aw, Seamus,” Dean said, flipping onto his back. “I don’t wanna watch you wank, man. Besides, we don’t have anything.”

Seamus raised his eyebrows. “I do.” He collapsed onto the bed and reached over the side for his satchel, rummaging around a bit before sitting up again. He handed Dean a flat box.

“What’s this?” Dean asked.

“Moving picture.”

Dean scowled. “All pictures move.”

This one goes for ten minutes and talks and everything,” Seamus said. “My cousin Danny gave it to me.” He paused, then whispered, “It’s a porno!”

“Yeah?” Dean asked. He flipped it over. “How d’ya work it?”

“You need a wand. I was gonna wait til we were back at school but now we don’t have to share it with anyone else. Good thing mum put up that silencing charm, eh?”

“Seamus, we can’t use our wands.”

He shrugged. “I’ll just nick Moira’s. She’s an awful sound sleeper. Y’wanna?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah.”

While Seamus slipped out to his sister’s room, Dean turned the box over in his hands. Surely it would be no different than reading skin mags, which they’d done since late second year. Seamus didn’t need to know that lately Dean had been thinking of Professor Lupin more than any of their female classmates, didn’t he?

Seamus carefully closed his sisters’s door and snuck across the living room of the tent. This was going to be fucking brilliant, the perfect end to a perfect visit with his best mate. He had a stiffy already just thinking about it. Certainly Dean didn’t need to know that lately he’d been thinking a little less about Lavender Brown and a little more about Barry Ryan.

He slipped through his own bedroom door and flourished the wand. “I’ve got it!”

“Brilliant,” Dean said, scooting back on the bed. He slid the box toward Seamus. “Do your thing.”

Seamus placed the wand near a knot in the corner of the wooden box. “Alohamora.” The top of the box slid back, revealing what looked like a picture frame. In the photo was a naked, muscular man with sandy hair.

“A bloke?” Dean asked.

“Well,” Seamus said, “the girl will probably come right along.”

The man was running his hand along his nearly hairless chest, pulling his nipples into stiff peaks. Seamus peeked at Dean, who seemed to be watching with, if not interest, at least not disgust. Seamus swung around to sit next to Dean, so he wouldn’t be watching the moving picture upside down.

Another man, taller and leaner with ebony skin, joined the first man on the screen. He placed a large hand on the blond man’s chest, then leaned in and kissed him.

So that’s what it looks like, Seamus thought. He glanced up at Dean out of the corner of his eye. Dean was staring at the small screen, his expression unreadable. Seamus decided to stay quiet.

The men on the screen were properly snogging now. The picture pulled back to show that they were naked from the waist down, too. The black man had turned his back to the screen and his arse was high and firm, like Dean’s. Seamus didn’t think the blond man looked much like him; he wasn’t that buff.

The black man’s hand slid down the blond’s chest and abs, then slid further down. Seamus bit his lip to keep from gasping. The blond man did moan, despite his neck being bent nearly backward by the force of the black man’s kiss. They turned so they were both sideways to the screen; now Seamus could see that the blond had his hand between the black man’s legs as well. They were still kissing, but Seamus was only vaguely aware of that; he couldn’t keep his eyes away from what their hands were doing. Time seemed to slow down, stretch out, until finally both men came, one after the other. The screen went dark.

Seamus, realizing that he’d been leaning forward, sat back on his haunches. “I think Danny’s having a joke. Must have seen they looked like us and couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, but where did he get it?” Dean asked.

Seamus shrugged.

“D’ya think he’s a ponce?”

“Dunno.” Seamus paused for a moment, biting his lip, then said, “My Uncle Mark is.”

“The artist? The one who lives in London?”



“Yeah, he caught hell from Gran but Da won’t hear a word against him, not from anyone.” Seamus grinned. “Came home from the pub with a few black eyes that month.”

Dean nodded. He was sure that if he turned out to be gay, Seamus would do the same for him. “D’ya think all artists are gay, though?” Dean asked.

“Uncle Mark says most of them aren’t,” Seamus replied.

Dean nodded. An entirely separate thing, then.

“Y’know who is?”

“Who?” Dean asked.

Barry Ryan.” Seamus sat back for effect.

Dean blinked. “Puddlemere United Barry Ryan? Keeper for the Irish National Team?”

Seamus nodded. “So, yeah. You can’t tell.”

“Guess not,” Dean replied, thinking.

After a bit Seamus said, “So, I’d only admit this to you, but I’ve got a stiffy now.”

Dean let out a breath, relieved. “Yeah, me too. ‘Course, I get them in Defense Against the Dark Arts, so.”

“Yeah,” Seamus said. “Guess it’s just our age. Well, if I’m gonna sleep …”

“No, I mean, er, yeah,” Dean said, wincing at his inarticulateness.

Seamus took the picture, which had now closed itself back into a box, and put it back in his bag, pulling back out a tube of lotion and a towel.

“You’re prepared,” Dean said, holding out his hand for a squirt of lotion.

One corner of Seamus’s face pulled up into a lopsided grin. He set the cream aside. Seamus, when he thought about it (which was once, the first time he’d wanked at home and found he missed the company), thought he and Dean had probably jacked off together about fifty times. By now they had it down to a routine. Towel, lotion, not really looking at each other but not really avoiding each other either.

Wouldn’t take much now, Seamus knew, and he wanted it to go as quickly as possible. Dean was going fast, too, he could tell. Seamus closed his eyes, biting his lip and thinking of how the muscled boys in the picture box snogged and stroked each other. He imagined kissing the dark man’s full lips. He could almost see a dark hand sliding down his chest and between his legs. He felt it coming and stroked a little harder, clenching his teeth out of habit as the orgasm hit him. As his breathing slowed, he opened his eyes.

Dean had finished at some point—they didn’t race anymore; that was sort of stupid—and was wiping his hand on a corner of the towel. “Will you sleep now?” he asked.

Seamus blew an errant hair out of his eyes. Dean was a real mate, putting up with Seamus the way he did. “Yeah,” he replied, taking the towel for himself as Dean turned out the light.

Seamus put the towel on the floor and slid under the covers. For the first time that night his mind was quiet, and between the cozy darkness and Dean’s familiar breathing, he finally fell asleep.

Date: 2006-07-09 01:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Such such boys. XD Loved this.

Date: 2006-07-18 12:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Wow, thanks so much! I'm not great at boys, I don't think, so I'm so pleased you thought so, particularly as you're so good at that! Thanks again!

Date: 2006-07-09 02:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Billiant!! Love how they both just hint at their own sexuality but never quite tell the other.

Date: 2006-07-29 10:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Thanks so much!

Actually, this story is sort of a prequel—Eight Ways from Sunday ( is a chaptered, sixth-year, GoF-canon fic that will tell you what happened next. However, since I'm doing the [ profile] fanfic100 for S/D there will be more short fic coming. Thanks again!

Date: 2006-07-09 03:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
:} Loved how you tied in so many other characters and how they're coming to terms with the fact that they may, or may not, be gay.

Date: 2006-07-18 12:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Thanks! I really like stories best when they feel like they're happening in a world, and not in a vacuum.

Date: 2006-07-09 07:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oooh, I really enjoyed this. Maybe one of your best? I liked the boy-ness about it, each one thinking about their sexuality but not ready to announce it to anyone. I especially liked the bit where Dean realizes that being an artist and being gay don't have to go together. Wonderful shared experience, sexy and yet entirely age-appropriate, too.

Date: 2006-07-29 12:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Wow, thank you so much for this comment! I'm so pleased people are responding to this story.

Date: 2006-07-09 11:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
First, couple of small typos you may or may not want to bother fixing:

"which was find as Seamus"
"despite his neck being bend"

That said...I really liked this! I love how you don't give into the obvious potential for shippiness, and opted instead for a lighter touch -- nothing overt in terms of their lusting after each other, but enough hinting to leave we readers smirking. ;}

Date: 2006-07-29 12:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Thanks, sweetie; I totally fixed them.

You know, the nice thing about starting with the "they get together" story is that it leaves me free with all the other stories to not have to worry about it at all, and that makes stuff easier to write in that way, or at least, not give into that temptation. Like, I scratched that itch, and now I can explore various other aspects of the two of them and what they're up to. But I'm so pleased people like it. Thanks!

Date: 2006-07-09 11:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Very cute. I agree with the comment above about their boyishness. That's the real charm here - that they come across so clearly as boys out having fun, boys experimenting, boys being boys.

Date: 2006-07-29 12:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
What a complement, thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Date: 2006-07-09 11:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I love the way they're pushing boundaries, figuring out what they can acknowledge, without going further than they're ready to, but also without getting too worked up about it.

Also, the dynamic between them: sugar-high!Seamus is love; and Dean just sort of calmly grounds him. These two are going to be fine, aren't they? :D

Date: 2006-07-29 01:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
They have a real faith in each other. It gets tested, later, but it's still there.

Hee, someone above was like, will there be a sequel? and I was like, um, I already wrote it.

I'm so pleased you enjoyed it. Thanks!

Date: 2006-07-29 02:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Seamus didn’t need to know that lately Dean had been thinking of Professor Lupin more than any of their female classmates, didn’t he?

Muahaha. That line is brilliant. I suddenly have an urge to write Seamus/Dean in which Dean admits his first male crush was Prefessor Lupin.

(Also? I love this fic. It's wonderful.)

Date: 2006-07-29 01:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I've played around a lot with the idea that Dean has a schooltime crush on Lupin, in this story and others; it's one of those little things that you work out that help you flesh out the characters.

Thank you so much!

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