Sing — I’ll write a drabble of my character singing to yours.
Sing — I’ll write a drabble of my character singing to yours.
It was early. The kind of early that meant at any moment the sun could peak out from the horizon– though it very obviously hadn’t yet. Last night, Seamus had proved his age and gone to sleep at, well, a time so embarrassingly early that even the thought now made him feel like old fart. When he’d woken up, Seamus knew it would be useless to try and go back to sleep, so instead he’d tiptoed out of bed and to the kitchen. Now he buzzed around the kitchen: hot water in the kettle, pancake batter sizzling on the griddle, flour everywhere, and quiet music from the wireless. As this sort of thing began to happen more and more regularly, Seamus had grown quite familiar with the chart toppers and pop hits. Which was why as soon as he heard the next song come on, his eyes lit up as he brought the batter covered wooden spoon up to his lips. What would early morning singing be without a fake microphone afterall?
“You don’t understand, you don’t understand” His voice off key and louder than it should be at the crack of dawn. “What you do to me when you hold his hand.”
“Seamus?” He spun around, socks sliding across the tile floor as he turned to face Dean’s very tired ( and mildly annoyed ) stare. There were two options now: stop singing and insist he return to bed or… keep singing. Well, it wasn’t even a choice.
“We were meant to be but a twist of fate,” Seamus danced over to Dean, singing into the wooden spoon along to the fuzzy music of the wireless. He was grinning like an idiot, arms moving around in the stupidest moves he could think of in time with the music. “Made it so we had to walk away.”
“Oh god.”
“Cause we’re on fire, we are on fire. We’re on fire now!” He began softly, slowly turning the volume up as he sang and shook his head in Dean’s face. “Oh please, you love this!” He turned the spoon over to Dean, an expectantly look in his face. No luck.
Yeah we’re on fire, we are on fire.We’re on fire now
Undeterred, Seamus grabbed Dean’s hand with his free one, pulling him further into the kitchen. (1, 2, 3) Dropping the spoon on the counter, he grabbed the other man’s hand and began to dance once more in a flurry of movement and pitchy singing. “I don’t care what people say when we’re together! You know I want to be the one who holds you when you sleep.” Clumsily, Seamus pulled Dean closer, forehead knocking into chin. “I just want it to be you and I forever! I know you wanna leave–” Letting go of one hand, Seamus spun out, his elbow hitting the counter. He winced, but ignored it as he spun back in with such force that Dean had to wrap his arm around Seamus to keep them both from toppling over. “So come on baby be with me so happily!”
“Seamus.” Dean let go and quickly walked over to turn the wireless off. “I think the pancakes are burning.”
