Anything (Van McCann | CATB Fan Fiction)

31. Glastonbury Festival, England

"You too, Vienna. You don't have to wait around for the lads. Consider the rest of the day your leisure day. It's Glasto after all. Go. Have fun," Dan winked.

"Are you sure?" I looked at Dan, confused.

"Yeah. I'm gonna roam around myself right after the boys are done with those bloody interviews. Can't wait for that," Dan exhaled. I bet he was too tied up with work and touring that he needed a bit of a breather himself.

Van wasted no time and quickly grab my hand. He held it like I was a lost child, looking for her mother. "Gonna go and rest on the bus now then," he signaled a thumb up with a huge grin plastered on his face.

"Of course you would," Dan chuckled which made me blush. The way he said it sounded like he was thinking of something else other than Van resting.

Van exhaled when we were finally at the back of the bus. He crashed himself on the couch and rested his head against the wall.

"Yeah. Okay. I should let you rest then. Let me know if you want anything. I'll be in my bunk," I told him.

"Please stay. I want you to stay," he said softly. "Why are behaving like you're my assistant or something?" Van asked with furrowed brows as he stood up, quickly shutting the door behind him. Click. I heard it being locked. Oh shit.

"Come here," he spoke softly again, almost like a whisper as he rapidly closed the gap between us. His hand grabbed onto my waist so suddenly, making me flinched. We were so close that the tip of my nose touched the skin of his neck. I was almost unable to breathe. Van wasted no time and leaned in to kiss me.

"You're not really sick, are you?" I managed to say between his lips. He responded with a smile before he briefly bit his lower lip. The tip of our noses still touched.

He planned this. He knew the only time we could be alone together was when the other boys were busy with interviews that he just skipped. Oh my god. He definitely had planned this!

"Maybe," he chuckled. Van started to unbutton my shirt. Slowly. One by one. Our lips met again but we were not kissing. We were just standing there. Breathing together. Inhaling and exhaling. I counted the number of the buttons of my shirt in my head as he unbuttoned them. There were altogether seven. Seven buttons. As soon as he was done unbuttoning the last one, I looked up. Van was staring at my bra. It's was nothing fancy. Just a plain, black, t-shirt bra. God, why did I choose the most unflattering bra, anyway? I was glad that it matches my underwear though. Van let the shirt fall off my shoulders. I tried to act normal but Van started to kiss my neck, and then my shoulder. It was making me shiver. Exhaling, I told myself - relax, relax, relax!

I snapped myself out of it right away and pulled his shirt over his head. My hands were still shaking but I managed to let his shirt fall on top of my shirt on the floor. We were both topless. Well, maybe not entirely. I still had my bra on, and Van realized that. His fingers brushed underneath the strap and gingerly moved towards my back so they could get to the hooks. And just like that, my bra fell on top of the pile on the floor. That boy. He was definitely good with his hands.

Van stopped moving. He was starring, making me uncomfortable. I started to think that maybe he was disappointed with what he saw. I was not the sexiest. I twisted my arms together in front of my chest, without giving them permission to do so. My body was behaving like a teenager that I felt stupid. Van was making me feel like as though it was my first time.

"Sorry," he said, snapping out of it. "You, uhm, you- you're beau-," he stopped talking because I was kissing him. I had to stop him from talking because I didn't want him to say things they were not true. Van took it as a sign of eagerness rather than insecurities. He ran his hand along my neck and then onto one of my breasts. It just stayed there for a moment before he moved to unbutton my jeans. A second later, he was unzipping them. Perhaps my heart had stopped for a few minutes because all of the sudden, my jeans were down over my butt, my thighs. I kicked the heels of my sneakers off with my toes. I looked down. Van looked down too. At my socks. Those stupid dark blue socks were still on my feet. Great. There I was, standing awkwardly in front of that beautiful man. In my underwear and those stupid socks. I tried to free my legs from my jeans which was stuck at my ankle, but my leg got caught as I lifted it up, causing me to lose my balance. Van tried to get a hold of me but I ended up crashing on top of him, sending us both down to the floor.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I wished the floor would just swallow me right down to the pit of the earth. It was just far too embarrassing.

"Are you okay?" Van managed to ask, despite being pinned down still. I quickly brought myself away from his body and sat on the couch.

"I'm sorry. This is-uhm-not going well, huh?" I asked, placing my face into both of my palms. I wanted to die.

"No. It's going fine," Van laughed. "Come on, Vienna, baby, what's wrong?" He asked, still chuckling while pulling me into a hug.

"This is not sexy at all," I snorted. We both then bursted into laughters. "I'm sorry!"

"On the contrary, I think this is the sexiest thing ever. You and me, sneaking at the back of our tour bus, getting naked and all that," he paused, like suddenly remembering that I was just in my underwear. And stupid socks. He tried not to stare, but he was staring again. "Uhm... should we-uhm-"

"Start over?" I cut him off.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Start over."

"Okay," I animatedly said.

Van started to unzip his jeans. Pulling his boots and socks together with it. It just amazed me how fast this boy could undress. So, there he was, standing in front of me in his boxers. While I sat on the couch in my undies. I quickly took of my stupid socks to make things even.

Van then slowly straddled on top of me. Making me nervous again. He started to kiss me again. Slowly and tenderly, as out breaths started to thicken. It felt so sweet. So nice. He was concentrating hard to do it nicely. He touched me carefully like I was the most fragile thing that needed to be handled with care.

His hand reached for something at the back of the couch. I only realized what it was when he ripped it open. This is happening, I thought to myself. My heart raced incredibly fast. My chest tightens. My skin burned.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. I nodded. Of course I was okay. He was kissing me softly, stroking my hair and skin so gently that it felt foreign to me. My skin used to be all bruised up, and I was so used to be thrown around the concrete wall, being treated like I didn't matter that the way Van was handling me felt so strange. He was touching me like he was afraid to hurt me. I wanted to cry. Not because I was sad. But because I was finally feeling happy. And loved. I've never felt so overwhelmed with these kinds of emotions before. He was making me feel like he loved every inch of my skin, where every single cell in my body mattered to him. Like I mattered to him. He was making my mind stop in a way I never thought was possible. He was making me fall more and more in love with him.

I love you, Van McCann.