The look on Sean's face was actually that of quintessential surprise.  Actually, he didn't seem all that displeased when it seemed that Mike was making a pass at him, and neither did he flinch when the larger man's hand brushed down his chest.  He was simply silent, still, watching Mike carefully, holding his breath.<br/><br/>When Mike admitted he was kidding, Sean snorted.  "Careful, boyo," he grinned.  "You don't want to bite off more than you can chew.  You keep at it, you're going to start getting a reputation for being a tease."   He looked for a moment as if he was seriously thinking about kissing Mike, but then broke off with a grin and started on the dishes.  "I did have a boyfriend, once.  His name was Quinn, and he was the stereotype of the crazy Irish bastard."  He laughed as he recalled the memory.  "And when I say crazy, I mean abs-o-lutely fucking insane.  When he wasn't drinking he was smoking salvia, and when he wasn't smoking he was fucking anything on two legs.  Men, women, didn't matter.   He had a<em>joie de vivre</em>that I've never seen before or since.  I think the last time I saw him, he said he was going to Mexico to learn how to cliff dive."  He shook his head.  "God, I miss that boy sometimes."<br/><br/>He finished the last of the dishes.  The dish towel was now wet with water, and Sean flipped it over and over, rolling it up into a tight rope.  With a playful *smack*, he flicked the end of the towel lightly against Mike's bottom.