Mo Ghrá

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It came from behind the cloud of smoke, which suddenly disappeared to reveal a classroom of giggling teenagers and her glare directed right at Seamus. Seamus was out into the corridor and running to the common room even before Dean had picked up his bags. It was there again. The pain. He reached the dorm and fell to his knees by the window. The rain thudded against the glass in heavy droplets as he clenched his shaking hands together and closed his eyes. The taste of salt from his tears filled his mouth. He prayed that his da would never find out and that his ma would never have to hide her son, her gay son.

Please go. His body shook with empty sobs. Pain coursed through him, swallowing him whole. This pain could not be categorised, not defined. It was all and everything. It was him.

Seamus closed his eyes tight shut, allowing himself, this once, to feel. And I still love you. I tried so many spells and potions and nothing worked.

Mo Ghra'sa, Mo Dhia

Nothing worked. And I still feel this way. You love me like a man loves a man. And there is nothing wrong or disgusting or evil about that, Seamus. A man loving a man is as right and beautiful as a man loving a woman. And no matter what your dad or your religion says, nothing will change how much I am in love with you and how right that is.

Seamus did not know that kissing could feel like this, like the world no longer existed and all that was left was him and Dean and this heaven. Dean snorted and Seamus lifted his head to see the glow in the brown eyes that always came when he laughed. He had missed looking at that. He had missed Dean more than he could ever admit. How did I not see? I was such an idiot and you were hurting and I did nothing. I should have spoken to you earlier but I was scared.

I still am. Go raibh maith agat! Main Content While we've done our best to make the core functionality of this site accessible without javascript, it will work better with it enabled. Get an Invitation.

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He worshipped Dean. Notes: See the end of the work for notes. Work Text: Seamus Finnigan was no stranger, no acquaintance to pain. Seamus glared into the forgotten Butterbeer in his hand and felt the fire burn in his chest. It seemed pain was his only friend now. You just looked like you needed some company. What more company could I want?

Tomhais Méid Mo Ghrá Duit

Seamus had drowned a long time ago and never resurfaced. Seamus was in love with a boy. Nothing could save him now. He would be disgusted. Dean was a hymn that Seamus could only dream of singing. That was something Seamus Finnigan was familiar with. Seamus smiled ruefully.

Mo Ghrá-sa - Vicipéid

When am I not? It was a bloody ugly cushion if he was honest. Seamus gripped his wand tighter. God, he hated himself.

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The wrongness of his existence was like a knife to his heart and all he could do was bleed. Seamus prayed.

Irish Hymn - Mo Ghrá'sa, Mo Dhia - sung by Aoife Ní Fhearraigh

He begged that, through his choked sobs, God would answer his prayers. Their eyes met. The comfort Seamus felt in those arms was pain in itself. Just Seamus and Dean. Nothing more. Pain gripped his soul. He stood up, away from Seamus. Total Song Plays: 3, Last Login: over 30 days ago. Sign up for Broadjam today to follow Ronan Doherty, and be notified when they upload new stuff or update their news! Space to Earth Discovery of Music and sound 1. Plays: Discovery of Music and Sound 4 Culture to Plays: 8.

Undersea Discovery of Music and Sound 2. Lullaby for a hotel 1.

The first Nowell. Venite Adoremus. Hero on a horse medium length. Panis Angelicus ChoralMix. A New Song has been Given. Lullaby for a hotel 2.

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Fanfare for the common centurion. Panis Angelicus.

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