#godlyvanblurb

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.”

This was one of those times. She couldn’t stop replaying the way his fingers felt inside of her in her mind. She remembered almost all of the details of those nights, even the way his face looked while he watched her from start to finish, though the ending was a bit fuzzy, the only thing her mind remembered was how intense the orgasm was, not the way his face looked. She went back to the night he first fingered her -- his hands so wonderful against her skin, peeling off clothing from her bottom half until there was nothing left. “Fuck,” she let out a low moan, “Keep going, Van.”

She didn’t know he was home. She didn’t even hear him come in the door, or even lean up against the doorframe of the bathroom. But nonetheless, he didn’t make a sound to let her know that he was here. He was too engrossed in how beautiful she looked, her eyes screwed shut, her body distorted under the water. She wasn’t anywhere near orgasm, her mouth wasn’t opened forming an “o” shape at all yet.

Van inched near the tub, leaning his arms on the edge of it. He rested his head on his arms, watching her up close. He wanted to reach out and touch her, help her, but he didn’t want to ruin her fun. Instead, he just kept watching her, blood rushing to his dick as she kept moaning his name, over and over. “Fuck, Van…”

God, how he loved to hear her moan. He didn’t realized he let out one himself until Y/N gasped, going to cover her body but realizing there was absolutely not point in doing so. “You gonna sit there and watch, or are you gonna touch me yourself?”

“Is this one of those nine times?” She shook her head, both of them knowing it was a lie. She pulled away from him, running a hand through her hair. He watched her carefully, straight face turning into a crooked smirk. “Oh really?”

“Really. I’m going back inside now, so, yeah.” She turned on her heel and walked towards the room filled with their friends. She grabbed a beer from the table and twisted the cap off. She began to down the whole thing, putting the bottle back down on the table when she was done. Y/N wiped her mouth off as a few people stared at her. She didn’t mind them. She just kept drinking, which wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had. “Let’s play never have I ever.”

This wasn’t going to end well, her night bound to go wrong. It started off slow, asking about things everyone pretty much already knew about. And everyone was damn near down to the last three players, ten minutes in. Once everyone that was completed finished their drinks, they sat and watching, wondering who’ll win. Y/N prayed to God that Van wouldn’t bring up what almost happened outside, but this was Van McCann she was talking about, he’s do it for fun, not meaning to intentionally hurt anyone. But of course, somebody was going to end up hurt. Y/N just didn’t know who yet. “Never Have I Ever… thought about cheating.”

Adam took a sip from his beer, Y/N taking one as well. Thankfully for Van, he’d never truly been in a decent relationship since him and Y/N broke up, and not once did he think about cheating on her, or any of his other nighttime visitors. They, Adam and Y/N, both looked at each other, Y/N hoping that it wasn’t her he’d thought about cheating on. Bondy slyly smiled, speaking what was on everyone’s minds, but they were too afraid to ask. “You two, do tell.”

Adam chuckled. At first, he didn’t want to say anything, knowing full well that Y/N would be upset. Y/N knew he was a dick, but she wanted to show Van that she could be happy without him. Y/N knew about the cheating. She knew about every text, call, email - whatever it was - she knew about it all. “Thought about doing it a few times and went through with it. Was gonna do it again tonight actually.”

“You’re a fucking prick, Adam.” Lucy spoke, looking over at Y/N to see her reaction. She was just there, existing. She really didn’t know how to feel, since she knew everything. Van stood up and paced around the floor for a second, debating on whether or not to interact with him or not. Y/N wouldn’t like that, but it seemed like the right thing to do, so he hit him. Van punched him once square in the jaw, which lead to a half-assed fight. The fight only came from Adam’s side, hitting Van wherever he could land a punch. Y/N shouldn’t have gotten in the middle of it, but she did. Adam hit her in the cheek, recoiling his fist fast.

“Shit, Y/N, I didn’t mean t--”

“Just fuck off, Adam.” Y/N grabbed Van from the floor and walked him to the bus’ bathroom. It was about a five minute walk away, which was good, Y/N couldn’t truly carry him much longer. She made him sit on the toilet seat, grabbing the first aid kit from underneath the sink. She looked at his face, seeing little cuts here and there.

“Are you mad at me, love? I didn’t mean to make you upset. Guy’s a prick, and you know he deserved it.” He spoke quickly, Y/N’s pointer finger covered in Neosporin. She shook her head, applying the small amount to the first cut on his cheek, putting a little bandaid over it. “You sure? You don’t have to do this, love.”

“You won’t heal as fast, and I’m sure, Van. He did deserve it. I should’ve broken up with him a long time ago,” she admitted, Van’s eyes gazing into hers. He loved her eyes, and how you could always see what she was thinking in them. She cleaned up the last of his cuts, feeling his fingertip play with the hem of her skirt, touching her thigh. She looked into his eyes when she was done, looking down at his lips, realizing she missed a cut, and kissed him to make him feel better.

“Ow,” he laughed, pulling away.

“Shit, sorry.” He shrugged it off, pulling her back in for a kiss. His hands didn’t really move, still teasing at the thought of easily inching up her thighs, brushing past the material of her skirt, but he didn’t. He just moved them to her waist, pulling Y/N onto his lap. And it was like nothing had changed; those three years of not seeing each other never happened. Their bodies were so used to other’s, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, trying to bring his body closer to hers. His hands were holding on tight to her hips, trying to stop her from grinding her hips into his.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting so long to do that,” he admitted with a smile. She looked at him, licking her lips. Y/N nodded her head, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. “Missed you the whole time. I didn’t want to be away from you, you know? I figured you wanted time away because everything became so heavy.”

“It did, but it hurt more not dealing with it. It felt like you let me run away from our problems instead of working it out with each other. You had the lids, and I had myself for the longest time. I needed you, and you weren’t there.” She breathed, her forehead pressing against his when she finished. “I wanted to make things work because I’m so fucking in love with you, Van.”

“Can we try again?” He whispered quietly, like it was some sort of a secret. She nodded, bringing her lips to Van’s, capturing them in a kiss. It was short and sweet, until Van pulled away, Y/N climbing off his lap. She followed Van, who lead her into the back lounge area, and found her spot on his lap once again. She loved him more than words could say, and he did too.

Her hips were guided by Van’s hands, his head rolled back, watching the way she rode him. She was beautiful, her skin glowed under the terrible lighting on the bus, and his chest did too. His necklace looked so beautiful against his lightly sweat covered chest. Her hands gripped his shoulders tight, the rolling of her hips becoming more and more erratic. Baby hairs, flyaways and bangs stuck to her face, some even caught in the corners of her mouth. She brought her head down as she began to ride out her climax, her mouth open, her eyes screwed shut.

Van didn’t last much longer after that. His breathing was rapid, slowing down after he came into the condom. Bodies were peeled apart and clothes were put back on, hair all haphazardly fixed. No missed calls or text messages from any of them, besides Larry, who told the pair to be less noisy next time. Y/N liked the sound of that - next time. “I’m glad you came today.”

She peeked out of the curtain that hid the moonlight from the two. Noticing it had climbed into their room, she turned to see the moonlight reflecting off of his skin. She decided on leaving it open, seeing how beautiful he looked with the moon on his skin. She pushed his hair around, framing his face, looking over his features closely. The slope of his nose was always a personal favorite for her, aside from the brilliant color of his eyes, and the shape of his lips. It was also the bones that stuck out from his body, his collarbones that reflected the most moonlight.

Y/N left the room, heating up a cup of hot chocolate, thinking of bringing it back into their room. She turned around, cup in hand, hearing the sound of Van’s footsteps across the floor. He appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against it. “Van, hey, go back to bed.”

“Can’t without you.” She smiled, putting her arm around his waist, the two walking back to their room. He got back into bed while she grabbed a stool to put her glass on. Y/N climbed into the bed with him, her back against the headboard. Van’s head placed itself in her lap, wrapping his arms around one of her legs. One hand occupied his hair, the other holding her glass of hot cocoa. He mumbled, his voice raspy, kissing her thigh, “Thank you, baby. I’ve missed you.”

“Lids, tonight was fucking amazing! Did you see that crowd? Pretty sure they loved us,” he smiled, taking a huge drink from his cup before pulling out a cigarette. He lit it before handing his lighter to Bondy, who agreed with him. They boys discussed their wondrous night before heading out to some bar located near the venue they played.

Nobody knew who they were, and frankly, nobody cared. At this time, everyone was too drunk to even notice someone stealing their wallet. The music was loud enough to be heard from outside, and it wasn’t even good music, but the boys didn’t care. Van was just happy to be getting drunk tonight. He wanted to wash away all of his feelings.

He was still thinking about her. Her being the girl who’d “broken up” with him a few weeks before. They weren’t anything serious - a little bit of sex here and there - but it still meant a lot to him. It killed him when she broke it off. He was absolutely devastated, but he grew into this new person in what seemed like overnight.

“Yeah, Bond, I’m doing great. I’m just gonna go out for a quick cig. I’ll be back when I’m done.” Van said to his friend, patting him on the back. He walked outside, taking his lighter and a cigarette from his pocket. His hand shielded the fire from the wind, it catching fire immediately.

“You’re a liar, you know that, right?” A voice spoke from the silence that had filled his ears. He looked over at her, his eyes looking over her up and down.

“How am I a liar?” He scoffed, pulling his cigarette from his lips, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth. She looked over at him and smiled, chuckling to herself.

“Your eyes say what you’re really feeling,” she replied, taking a drink from her cup.

“Oh yeah, well, what are they saying then? ‘Cause I’m feeling grand.” He asked, his whole body turning towards her. She looked him up and down, her eyes focusing on his face. She studied every little bit of his face, from his tiny freckles, to the pinkish tint of his lips. She looked back up into his eyes, looking down at his lips again before she spoke up.

“You’re sad. I don’t know what about, or if any of your other friends know, but you’re really gutted about something.” Van stared at her, his bottom lip finding salvation between his teeth. How could she know? He didn’t even know her, and he was 100% sure that she didn’t know him. Tears formed in his eyes, but he was too damn proud to cry in front of her.

“No, I’m not.” He protested.

“Yes, you are. Quit pouting like a child.”

“I’m not pouting.” He argued, crossing an arm over his chest while the other occupied his cigarette. She looked over at him and rolled her eyes. He looked at her and dropped his arm, putting out his cigarette with his boot. “You’re right. I’m pretty upset.”

“I told you so.”

“This girl,” he began, opening up to someone about his thoughts for the first time in what seemed like years. “We had a little thing, but it meant a lot to me. She ended it on bad terms, I was so into her. She just - she never did anything for anyone else. It was always about her and I don’t know. I guess I liked that.”

“She didn’t deserve you, anyways. You seem like a good, loving guy. You don’t need someone like her to drag you down.” She kicked her feet around, playing with the gravel on the sidewalk. He watched her as she looked down at her feet. He was surprised he’d shared his thoughts with her. “What are you doing to cope with that?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, drinking. Smoking. Living life as per usual. I’m usually not so hung up on people, but this one just felt different. Felt right, you know?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah. There was this guy that I was seeing. I wasn’t too thrilled about going out with him, but I loved his company. He could hold an intelligent conversation without giving me a headache. Packed up and moved to France without telling me, called me to end it. I know where you’re coming from. People suck.”

“They do, don’t they.” He moved closer to her, his arm brushing up against hers. “How about this: you and I go back in so I can say goodbye to my friends, we go back to mine, and I show you my extensive record collection. You in?”

“Hell yes. Please tell me you’ve got beer at yours.” They walked in, her hand grabbing onto his arm. He whispered in someone’s ear, them nodding before he began to escort her out.

“Fully stocked. I’m Van.” He yelled over all the loud music, before they were greeted with the cool air once again. He hailed a cab, holding the door open for her.

“I’m Y/N.” They shook hands, sitting really close to one another in the cab. Van gave the driver his address, wrapping his arm around Y/N. The drive didn’t take too terribly long, the cab fare was lower than expected. They walked hand in hand up to his apartment. He offered her a drink as he shut the door behind her. They both took a beer from the fridge. “You’ve got quite the collection. It’s not as large as mine, though.”

“Oh, piss off. Which one do you wanna listen to?” He asked, walking over by the record player. She grabbed one off the shelves, handing the record over to him. He smiled, pulling it out of its case. The needle touched the vinyl, the sound bouncing through the room. Her fingertips tapped on his shoulder, putting her hand out for him to grab. He grabbed it, standing up right in front of her.

“Dance with me?” Her eyes looking into his. He nodded, his hands wrapping around her waist. Her hands were flat against his chest, her right hand feeling his heartbeat. She smiled to herself, putting her head in between her hands.  He pulled away to change the record, but Y/N pulled Van in by his belt loops, her lips on his. 

Van’s hands found their way to Y/N cheeks, hers still on his belt loops. It was full of passion, They were breathless when they pulled apart. His eyes slowly opening as Y/N watched him. “What was that for, sugar?”

“Felt right, you know?” She smiled at him, biting her lip as she walked away. He followed close behind her as she went back into the fridge to grab another beer. “Thank you for sharing with me earlier.”

“Wanna see something else? I usually don’t show other people this.” She nodded again, Van’s hand taking hers. He leaded her into his bedroom, letting her sit on the bed. He pulled out of worn-out, leather notebook and sat on a chair in front of her. He held it so tight in his hands, his knuckles turned white. “This is where I write all my songs. Well, not all of them. There’s some like snippets of stuff that don’t fit into songs, like thoughts that I have an all that. Never shared this with anyone.”

“Are you sure, Van?”

“I don’t know why, but I trust you. So, yeah. I’m sure.” That was a lie. He did know why he trusted her, and he wasn’t sure at all. He trusted her because she had seen past his facade, which nobody had really done before. Other than his parents, who would see right through Van like plastic wrap. He wasn’t sure because his thoughts were so private. The raw side of him lie in between those words. Everything he felt during those weeks with his fling was in there. Every single little emotion, no matter how small.

“You feel everything all at once, don’t you?” Van lightly nodded, attempting to swallow the lump forming in his throat. She set the notebook down next to her and kneeled between his legs. Tears were in his eyes, his nose beginning to drip. Her hands put themselves on his cheeks, moving his head to look her dead on. Her eyes searched his, not looking for anything in particular, but looking for something to let her know that he wanted her there. “Have you cried since you two split up yet?”

“No,” he croaked.

“Let it out, then, baby.” And he cried. And somewhere in the mixture of his sobs, she brought him over to the bed, his head laying in her lap. Her hands brushed through his hair, letting him know she was there whenever he was finally ready to talk about it. His crying went on for another twenty minutes, Y/N kissing his forehead and wiping away his tears when they were about to fall on to her skin. She rocked him back and forth when he finally sat up, his arms lazily wrapping around her waist. “It’s okay, Van. You’re okay.”

“I liked her so much,”

“She didn’t deserve you like I said before. You deserve someone who wants to be with you every step of the way — no matter how difficult it is. After reading your thoughts, all I could think about was how could someone make you feel so happy, and then so shitty in what seems like two days.”

“I’m difficult to love.” He sulked, stopping his crying. He sat up, wiping his face of all tears.

“No you’re not.”

“How would you know? You just met me tonight.”

“I just know people like you. People like us,” she answered, putting her hand on his shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. He didn’t really hug back, his hands just laid in her lap. She pulled back, asking him if he was tired. “Well, you should put pajamas on anyways. Do you guys have any milk?”

“Yeah, in the fridge.” She poured him a glass of milk and put it in the microwave. Warm milk would always help Y/N fall asleep when she was younger. She hoped it would help Van fall asleep. She came back up, accidentally walking in on Van changing, his back exposed. He turned around, looking at her with the glass in her hand. “Warm milk? Mum used to give me a glass whenever I couldn’t sleep right. Forgotten about it.”

“Helps me, figured it’ll help you.”

“Can you stay? With me tonight?” Y/N smiled and nodded, taking off her shoes. She asked him if it was fine she didn’t wear pants. He didn’t care and opened the blanket enough for her to crawl under. She laid next to Van, facing him. “Thank you for letting me… do whatever that was. Means a lot.”

But now they were back home, lying on their bed, some of their clothes discarded somewhere in the room. Lips collided, hands found their rightful places, and moans came from the both of them. She hovered over the bottom half of his torso, her mouth making strings of profanity fall from his lips.

“Fuck, love, do that again.” He groaned, throwing his head back. His hand was tangled in her hair, but not in a forceful way. Her hands raked down the tops of his thighs and back up again, finding him a moaning mess underneath her touch. “Baby, I’m not gonna last any longer if you keep, oh fuck, going. Oh, God.”

She didn’t have to say anything, the little taps to his hipbone, telling him it was okay, was enough to push him over. His head threw itself all the way back, his eyes rolling back into his head, squeezing them tightly as he let go. His breathing was still heavy, his forehead beading with sweat. “You alright, love?”

“I’m good. Why?”

His fingers pulled at the elastic band, his nails scratching her on the way down. “Sorry, sugar. I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s fine, just keep going.” She chuckled, pulling him over to the bed. They kneeled in front of each other, lips connecting with each others. Her hands twisted the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck, his holding her hips. He slipped off his boxers and went back to kissing his woman. She pushed on his chest, telling him to lie down.

“Today’s not my fucking day,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his head. He’d hit the top of the headboard on the way down, which resulted in Y/N laughing as she put her hands on his chest, making sure he was alright.