godlyvan

A surprise, that's what this was. She had to remind herself that you couldn't tell Van that she had found her way to California, that she was in his hotel room, and that she knew you had the weekend to yourselves. Three days. Three whole days alone with Van in a hotel room. It couldn't get much better than that. "Yeah, Lar, I'm in the room. Tell him to grab a different shirt or something, tell him he smells bad or something."

"Van, please, for the love of God, change ya shirt or somthin'. Smell like moldy rubbish." You heard from the other line of the phone. You snickered, knowing Van was probably a bit pissed. "Okay, he's left. I better hear him scream like a little girl in two minutes."

"You will." She hung up the phone and hid in the bathroom, closing the door a little more than it was, but keeping it open enough to watch him walk through the door. He takes off his jacket, and throws it on the bed before beginning to undo the buttons on his shirt. She comes out from the bathroom, wraps her arms around him from behind. "Gettin' undressed without me?"

"Love!" He shouted, turning around immediately, wrapping his arms around you. "Scared the piss outta me, what're ya doing in California?"

"Heard from Larry and the boys that you had a weekend off. Figured I could see you before we start rehearsing for Swan Lake." She worked for a local children's theater that puts on all kinds of different shows, regular plays, musicals, and even dance performances. It wasn't too big, just a ballet full of kids with big hearts and a range of talents. "You smell nice."

"Oh do I? Larry told me I smelled like moldy rubbish." She giggled a bit. "I'm guessing you had something to do with that?"

"A bit. Didn't think he'd tell ya that exactly, but I told him to say ya smelled bad or something." He acted offended, sitting on the bed, pulling her towards him by the hands. She stood between him, holding his face. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too, love." She pressed a kiss to his forehead, making him hum in approval. "What are we doing for the weekend, then? I suppose lots and lots of sex, yeah?"

"Not completely, dirty bastard. I was thinking we could be tourists. Never come out here, might see the city while we're here." He groaned, falling back on the bed. "I know you don't like that stuff, Van, but could you at least pretend to for two days? That's all I ask."

"I guess. I've heard the pier can be class at night."

And it was. It was also incredibly busy on a Friday night. People flocked along the beach, seaside shops that had odd items at high prices. A quick stop for ice cream and they were on their way to the end of the pier. “You nervous about Swan Lake?”

“Not really. We’ve done it before, but it’s been a while.” She went on to talk about the kids who had auditioned, how many of them there were. “Loads of girls, though that isn’t surprising. Most boys think ballet is girly.”

“Can’t blame them, love. Think ballet, you think tutus and girls spinnin’ about on stage.”

“Oh hush it. You’ve been to the shows a few times. You know it’s not like that much.” He nodded, lacing his hand in hers. “Where to after this?”

“After LA? I think we go to Houston. Not sure.” A silence fell between them. It’s your typical, slightly awkward, nervous butterflies type.

The moon was high in the sky, the pier was lit up, and the entire boardwalk just looked astonishing. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, eyes still concentrated on her. It seemed like a silly question, asking to kiss her. They had been dating for so long. She nodded lightly, smiling at the seemingly trivial question. And in a split second his lips are on hers.

Time escapes them, it’s soon one in the morning when they arrive back at the hotel. They’re giggling and all over each other. They can barely get the door open before their mouths are on each other again. Hands messily take off clothing and heads knock into each other a few times. They laugh it off, rubbing their heads for a moment before their lips are together again.

“Been a while.” She spoke, laughing about their misfortunes and possible new bruises. He chuckled, fingertips playing with the ends of her hair.

“We should really move in together.” It came out of nowhere. She’s thrown aback by this, turning her face towards his. “Y/N, it’s ‘bout time. Been together long enough, ya know? You can make breakfast, I’ll make the tea and you can put your cold ass feet on me.”

“My feet aren’t that cold!”

“They’re like icicles, love. Frozen to the bone.”