living fast

I better get my head up

Before she gets her legs up enough

Do you recall my face?

“What are you doing?” 

She sighed into the phone, the small sound almost being completely enveloped by the noise around her. “I’m at a party.” 

“Will you come over after?” Van’s eyes were closed, trying to focus on the conversation as he leaned his head back against the grimy wall. He opened his eyes wide and then squeezed them shut, then repeated the whole process again to try and get his head straight. People around him were so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts, let alone her soft words through the phone. 

“You’re serious? Again? We agreed not to do this shit anymore,” she replied, words slurring together so beautifully. God, how Van loved her voice. 

This is not the time

This is not the place

To be cheated on you

But I’ll do it anyway

“Not the time, love. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Van stumbled down the street, singing some shitty new pop song that had been playing all night because everyone in the world was apparently obsessed with it. He was drunk enough that now, the lyrics seemed perfect to him, like it was damn near the best song ever written. 

He managed to unlock the door after fumbling around with his keys for a few minutes and cursing at it. “Christ,” he said with a laugh, shaking his head as he tripped up the stairs to his bedroom and flopped onto his bed. The world felt like it was spinning extra fast when he shut his eyes, like it was spinning so fast it wanted him to shoot off and end up in space. He tried to focus on his dresser across the room but then his dresser started spinning too and he knew he was fucked. 

“Fuck… ‘m fuckin’ drunk,” he mumbled to himself as he dug through his bedside table for a lighter and a joint he had thankfully rolled earlier. He peered down at the end of it after he stuck it in his mouth, eyes going crossed as he tried to light it. He smoked quickly, head sticking out of his window, needing to finish it before she got there. 

The lights go down

And then her hands go south

She’s too messed up

So don’t you dare tire out

The door handle turned and Van tried to focus his vision as she entered, not saying a word as she sat down on the bed next to him, slipping her shoes off. Van was slumped back on the mattress, eyes squinted but never leaving her figure as she crawled on top of him, staring down at him with red-rimmed eyes. He swallowed when she leaned over and switched the lamp off. The moonlight from outside his window outlined her face so he could focus on the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the furrow of her eyebrows. He rubbed his eyes quickly, trying to wake himself up as her hands went to his zipper. 

This is not the time

This is not the place

To be getting a grip of you

But I’ll try it anyway

Everything between them was messy and confusing, just like it always was. They fucked hard and fast, sweat dripping onto each other and the stale air of his room being filled with groans and curse words. 

Nails digging into his back, fingers around her neck, heads tilted back, eyes rolled shut. 

Van tried to lean down to kiss her and she turned her face to the side, offering her cheek instead. 

“I love you,” he mumbled against her skin. 

“Fuck you,” she whispered back with a gasp. 

And I know I’ll wake up

To the bottom of the bed, cold looks

And she won’t look the same to me

Van woke up in the morning, head pounding and glaring at birds chirping outside for being so fucking happy. What gave them the right? He rubbed his eyes and sat up, piecing together what had happened the night before. He realized when he saw her at the end of his bed, leaning over to tie her shoes. 

“Morning,” she muttered, standing up and looking for her bag. 

Van scoffed and flopped back on his pillow, not even bothering to say anything back. He covered his eyes with his arm, trying to block some of the obnoxious sunlight that was streaming in through his window right on his face. 

He didn’t open his eyes again until he heard his bedroom door slam and she was gone, as if she had never been there in the first place.  

“Shut up.”

“I’m trying,” you whisper-shouted as Van kissed down your neck, “but you’re making this kind of hard.”

“And you’re making this kind of hard, darlin’,” he pulled away, a smirk evident on his face, gesturing down at his jeans. 

You rolled your eyes, pushing his shirt up so he would pull it over his head. “You’re the worst,” you muttered, leaning in to kiss him again, having to shush him when he groaned into your mouth as your hand slipped below the waistband of his pants. 

How did you get to this point? Being locked in your room with the one and only Van McCann, your once arch nemesis, trying to stay quiet while he ripped your clothes off so your roommate wouldn’t hear across the hall through the thin walls? You weren’t quite sure. 

All you knew was that there was something about him, something so annoying yet fucking addicting that you couldn’t stay away from him for long. 

After you’d admitted you both had feelings for each other, you both agreed to just keep things on the down low. You didn’t need Jack or Larry or any of the other boys asking any questions or digging around in your business, plus you both figured they’d do something to fuck up your relationship or hookups or whatever it was you had going on. The status of your relationship was still very much undefined but you didn’t mind. 

The whole sneaking around thing was a little strange but you also found it to be kind of a turn on, honestly. Because you lived with Jack and Van lived with Larry, you had really no choice but to be secretive about your encounters. You tried hooking up in the backseat of your car once, parked on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you decided it felt a little too high school. You were in your twenties, for God’s sake. 

Well, in your twenties but still sneaking around with a boy you liked. Fuck, you really did feel like you were still sixteen sometimes. 

Van still spent a lot of time at your’s and Jack’s house, usually claiming once it got late that he was going to crash on the couch because he’d had too much to drink or smoke or just didn’t feel like driving the whole ten minutes to his house. After Jack went to bed, Van would sneak to your room and you’d both do your best to remain quiet. Your walls were awfully thin and Jack was known for being World’s Lightest Sleeper - not a great combination for your situation.

But you really didn’t mind the whole thing. Yeah, you and Van clearly had feelings for each other, which made things a little tough. When he was gone for a string of interviews, he called you every night and you fell asleep to the sound of his voice three nights in a row. He visited you at work when he could, usually armed with a coffee from your favorite cafe or some other treat. So spending the majority of your time together in your room at night, lights off and hushed voices wasn’t ideal but it worked for you. 

And the thing about Van was he was as equally sweet as he was annoying. You thought maybe he would act a little different when you were alone versus when you were around the rest of the boys. But nope, he was just as aggravating, picking on you for everything he could and pushing your buttons. It seemed to be his favorite pastime. His sarcastic comments and inappropriate remarks probably should have bothered you more. But you realized after a while that his bothersome behavior was part of the reason you were so attracted to him. He loved to grind your gears and get you riled up until you’d be so turned on you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. 

Riling you up was precisely what he was doing right now. “Van,” you half moaned, half scolded as he continued to tease you, fingers rubbing over your underwear so lightly that it just pissed you off. 

“Hm?” 

“Can you… just - Christ, please,” you muttered, squirming under his touch. 

“Wow, was that a please I heard? Didn’t know you had such good manners,” he mumbled as he kissed up the inside of your thighs, bringing his hands to your hips. 

You tugged on his hair hard enough that he had to tilt his head up and look at you. “I swear to God, McCann, I don’t have time for this teasing shit.” 

He licked his lips and bit back a smile. “Eager tonight, are we?” he asked, that crooked grin revealing itself. 

You rolled your eyes, shifting underneath him and running your hands through his hair. “It’s been a long fucking week, okay, and a woman has needs so if you’re not gonna fulfill them I’ll just do it myself.” 

Van bit the inside of your thigh and looked up at you, smirk evident on his lips once again. “Yeah, because I’m sure you touching yourself is as good me fucking you,” he said in a low voice. He was such a cocky little shit. 

“As a matter of fact, my hands can do the job just fine, thank you.” He chuckled, slipping off of you and standing up. You watched from the bed, eyebrows furrowed as he looked around the room, digging through your discarded clothes. “What are you doing?” 

He glanced at you, his eyebrows raised in a mocking way. “Well, you don’t need me so guess I’ll just get my stuff and head home.” He bit back a smile as he found his jeans and was about to slip one leg into them when you spoke.

“Van,” you whined, sitting up to look at him. “Quit it.”

“Quit what?”

You sighed deeply. “Being dumb.” 

His eyes scanned over your nearly naked body, clad only in your underwear still and shrugged. “I dunno, you seem to have everything you need so maybe I’ll just leave you to it.” His lips were curled up in an irritating way and you wanted to kill him. 

“Van. Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Please come back into bed with me.”

A grin spread itself across his face, his eyebrows raised. “And why should I do that? Thought you could do the job ‘just fine’.”

“I swear to God. Please, Van, come fuck me because my mere mortal hands could never compare to your godly ways,” you said in a monotone voice, rolling your eyes as you spoke. 

He tossed his pants on the ground and nearly jumped on you in bed like a little kid. He kissed you quickly and ran his hands down your body, pressing your hips into the bed. “That’s more like it, darlin’,” he replied with a cheesy smile. 

The next night, you were out at a pub with the boys, all drinking a little more than you probably should. Jack and Larry were discussing their latest conquests, trying to compare who had more game with women between the two of them. It appeared that Larry was losing. 

“What about, Van, huh? Feel like you’re in a bit of a dry spell, mate. Can’t even remember the last time you picked up a girl,” Larry said, tipping his beer towards Van. 

You glanced at him across the booth from you, pausing the game of footsie he’d been playing with you under the table. He was looking at you already and you raised your eyebrows at him. “Yeah, you’re definitely in a slump, Van,” you said with a smirk. 

He shook his head. “Fuck off, ‘m not in a slump. I’ve just been busy, y’know. Band stuff.”

Larry laughed, nudging him with his elbow. “Busy with what? We don’t have anything going on for like a month.”

Van finished his beer, pushing the empty bottle away from him. “I still have to write songs and come up with music and shit.” 

Jack jumped in. “That’s such a garbage excuse. You were seeing like three different girls when you were recording the last album. And you picked one up at the release party for fuck’s sake. You’re in a slump, mate,” he said with a chuckle, “but it happens to the best of us.”

Blush crept up on Van’s cheeks - something you weren’t all that used to seeing. Van was so carefree, always secure with himself that it was strange to see him getting worked up like this. 

“It’s okay. We’re here for you in this difficult time Van,” you said dramatically, reaching forward and grabbing his hand, biting back a smile. 

He pulled his hand back after a moment. “I’m not in a fucking slump! Christ, you all need to get off my case.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile only you caught. Of course he wasn’t actually upset with the boys for claiming he was in a dry spell - he definitely was not, if you had anything to say about it. But he still didn’t like being teased by them when he was known for being such a ladies man. 

“Yeah, sure. Why don’t you just prove us wrong? There’s plenty of lovely ladies here tonight,” Larry said, gesturing around the bar. 

Van’s eyes flicked to yours, and you became suddenly interested in the label on your beer. This was something you hadn’t discussed. You weren’t exclusive, necessarily, but you had no interest in seeing anyone else. Clearly, Van hadn’t been seeing anyone else with as much as the boys were teasing him but you knew how competitive he was and he certainly did have a big ego. Plus, maybe he did want to see other people.

“I don’t have to prove shit to any of you. For fuck’s sake, Larry, you haven’t had a girl over in like, a year, mate. I’m getting us another round,” Van said, sliding out of the booth. “Help me carry?” he asked, eyes locked on yours. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you said, following him to the bar and trying not to feel too pleased with yourself. 

“You really are in a dry spell, hm? I found that whole thing pretty funny,” you said with a smirk as you leaned up against the bar next to him. 

“Yeah, let’s see how funny you find it when I’m in your bed later tonight,” he chuckled. He leaned in close and brushed his lips against your ear. “It’ll be real funny when you’re trying to hold in your screams,” he muttered, pulling away quickly and pretending to be interested in something across the bar. 

You swallowed, shifting your weight. “Fuck off. You wish you could make me scream.”

Van cocked an eyebrow at you. “Is that a bet?” 

Jesus. “No,” you said under your breath. 

The corners of his mouth turned up into one of his most irritating smiles. “Kinda think it is. And I never lose a bet. You can barely stay quiet at your place because of Jack. You’re such a moaner.”

You could feel your cheeks getting red. “Am not.”

Van laughed, pausing the conversation to order from the bartender. 

“Are too. Don’t think you can even argue this one, sweetheart. And I bet I can turn you into a screamer,” he said after a moment, fishing cash out of his wallet, seeming all too eager with the idea. 

“Whatever. It’s not like you’re exactly quiet, either. You’re always talking.”

“Oh, so you don’t like the things I say during sex? News to me.” He really did know how to make your blood boil. 

“I never said that,” you mumbled as he passed two beers to you. Yes, Van was a big fan of dirty talk in the bedroom. And yes, you fucking loved it. 

“Tell you what. Let’s see if we can get one of the boys to not sleep at home tonight and then we’ll see if we can get a place to ourselves, hm? Then I can prove you wrong with that bet.” It was all you could do to not lean in and kiss him in the middle of the bar. 

“Deal.”

So for the next hour, you became wingwoman of the century. You told Larry you were making it your mission to make sure he went home with someone, just so he could take Van’s title as being the most successful with women out of the group. 

By midnight, Larry was whispering in the ear of a girl at the bar, clearly doing his best to come off alluring - which he really wasn’t, but you had to give it to him for trying. 

“What are the odds this works out?” Jack said with a laugh as the three of you watched from your booth. 

“I think it will. She seems into him,” you said, feeling quite proud of yourself.

After a few minutes, Larry and the girl made their way to your booth, a smug look on his face as she clung to his arm. “Hey, guys. This is Amelia. Uh, I think we’re gonna head back to our place,” he said, glancing at Van, “so see you all later.”

Van coughed. “Uh, mate, y’know I’m really not feeling too well. Think I got the shits coming, dunno if you wanna go to ours.” 

You stared at the ground, trying to hold in your laughter. You glanced up at Larry who looked more pissed than you’d seen in a while. “You serious?”

Van shrugged, bringing a hand to his stomach. “We only have the one bathroom, so, y’know.” 

Amelia tugged on Larry’s hand. “We can just go to my place,” she said with a small smile. Thank God. That was all Larry needed to hear because they were out the door within a few seconds. 

“What a cockblock, you are,” Jack said with a laugh. 

“The shits, really?” you teased later when Van opened his front door. You had gone home with Jack and pretended to go to bed, saying you were exhausted when he begged you to stay up and watch a movie with him. You felt kind of bad when you snuck out later but, well, Van was waiting. 

Van rolled his eyes, letting you in and shutting the door behind you. “Hey, because of me, we’re alone, finally,” he replied, leaning against the door. 

You tugged your jacket off, then walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’m the one who set Larry up with that girl, so don’t go taking all the credit, McCann. I reckon it’s because of me that we have the place to ourselves.” 

He licked his lips, his eyes hooded as he dropped his hands to your hips and pulled you against him. “Let’s just take advantage of that now, yeah? Time to prove you wrong on that bet.”