It's Seamus's fault, and not just because he's sitting out in the garden in nothing but his swim trunks. Getting some sun, he says, though the English sun has never given him a tan. More freckles, maybe, and that's just fine with Dean, but that's not an excuse for lounging about on the grass nearly naked. And he might burn if he did that charm wrong.
So Dean does him a favor, and lies down on top of him.
"Hello," Seamus says, sounding unconcerned.
Dean hums, and runs his hands along Seamus's arms and sides, his feet up and down Seamus's calves. He can feel the give in the hard ground that means Seamus laid down a cushioning charm earlier. So he puts his hands on Seamus's wrists and thrusts his cock into the cleft of Seamus's arse.
And Seamus, the love, lifts up his arse and pushes right back.
"Slutty," Dean says, amused.
"Your slut," Seamus replies, pushing up again.
Dean shifts so he can run a hand along the curve of Seamus's arse. "What if I take what's mine?" he asks. "What if I hold you down and fuck you right here in the garden? Would you like that?"
"Yeah," Seamus says. "Yeah."
"Good," Dean says, pulling Seamus's trunks off, "because I was going to do it anyway."
Seamus shivers at that, because he has fantasies of Dean taking him by force, of being Dean's always-available fuck toy, likes it when Dean fucks him after he's already come. And they've played that game where Seamus spends the day lubed up and held open with a plug and Dean fucks him whenever he likes without regard to Seamus's orgasm, sometimes denying him and sometimes telling him he can jack himself off if he must. But Dean likes consent, likes it when Seamus is welcoming and in there with him. When they play that game they always talk before and after, and each time Dean fucks him the usual stream of filth comes out of Seamus's mouth. The asking for consent and then saying lack of it would have been ignored is another of their compromises, and it's worked so far.
Dean pulls lube out of the pocket of his shorts and, still holding down Seamus's arms with one hand while his legs sit atop Seamus's, clumsily slicks up one hand and slips a finger into Seamus's arse.
"Won't need much," Seamus says, pushing up again and struggling slightly against Dean, probably just to feel him pushing back.
"I can feel that," Dean says. "D'ya have a finger-fuck in the shower?"
He shakes his head. "I should punish you for that," he says. "Leave you high and dry for sitting out here teasing me with these tiny little swim trunks."
Seamus whimpers, chasing Dean's finger as he pulls it out.
"But I won't," he continues. "Just have to make it harder on you. Stay still." Dean sits up to take off his own shorts and Seamus stays where he is, though he does turn his head to watch Dean disrobe and lube up his cock.
"Christ, it's big," he says, as though he hadn't been playing with it, exclusively, for a good ten years now.
"Feel bigger in you," Dean says. He kneels so that his calves are planted firmly across Seamus's, and lowers his torso back on top of Seamus, lining up his cock with Seamus's entrance. Then he grabs Seamus's wrists, using all his weight to hold him down and still as he pushes into Seamus with one long and not particularly slow thrust.
"Fuck," Seamus says, nearly breathless.
"Prepare yourself well enough for me?" Dean asks. "Want to see what happens when you tease me?"
Seamus moans, struggling a little against Dean's hold on him, but Dean knows that's mostly to feel it, and he's happy to use his strength to hold Seamus right where he wants him. "Fill me up, honey," Seamus says.
He starts thrusting. "You were made for this," he says. "Made for me, made to have my cock in you."
"Yours," Seamus says, pushing back, and Dean fucks him harder. "So full of you."
"Good job I found you so young," Dean says. "You know the chaos you would have caused, if you'd been allowed to run amok?"
"Always yours," Seamus says, still forcing Dean to push down hard to keep him still. "Take me."
"Taking what's mine," Dean says, thrusting harder because he's not going to last so he has to make it count, make it hard and rough for Seamus and for himself, let himself feel how little Seamus is in comparison, how much Seamus trusts him, how much they both like it like this.
It's just animal noises after that, the squelch of fucking, their moans and gasps and grunts as they push against each other.
"Gonna come," Dean says. "Come so much in you."
"Fuck yeah," Seamus says, so Dean does, pushes Seamus flat on the ground with the force of his orgasm, taking what he wants.
He needs a moment to catch his breath after that, and then he slips out of Seamus and rolls onto his side. Seamus does the same, and it's only then that Dean sees that Seamus had come at some point, without being touched, and without Dean even noticing. He feels a little guilty about that.
It must show on his face because Seamus shakes his head. "No," he says, running a finger through the bit of come on his stomach and then rubbing it on Dean's abs. "I loved it. Kiss me."
And just like that Seamus's usual bossiness is back, though Dean is more than happy to comply. "Me too," he says.
"Mmm, my big strong man," Seamus says, rolling Dean onto his back and climbing on top of him. "Thank you."
"Any time," Dean says, and realizes he means it.