Only Just Begun (McFly) Fletcher/Jones - Part 02
Title: Only Just Begun
Author: coloured_dream
Part: 2/4
Rating: NC-17 (overall) PG-13 this part.
Genre: Romance, genderswap
Pairing: Tom/Girl!Dan (Flones!!)
Summary: Danny’s not sure there’s such a thing as a perfect man anymore. But maybe there is and maybe her perfect man has been under her nose the entire time.
Disclaimer: Not mine, nothing more than a work of fiction.
A/N: My first complete venture into girl!fic. I’m a little nervous about posting this because I’ve never actually written anything like this before. It’s my first multi-part McFly fic in a while as well so I really hope you enjoy it.
A/N2: I apologise now for the ridiculous word play on Danny’s real name.
Part One
Part 2
(‘Maybe he isn’t just pissed off because of that, maybe he’s jealous!’)
She doesn’t see Tom until the next morning when they leave the hotel and he barely even looks at her then. It’s the worst feeling in the world, her head hanging, unsure why he’s making her feel like this?
Adjusting the beanie on her head she sighs and tries not to think too hard about it, moves towards him as they stand in the lobby waiting for Harry. He’s always the last one, always late.
“Tom, can I have a word with you?” Her voice is quiet and he looks up, eyes hesitantly meeting her own.
“Not right now Danny!” Its firm and she doesn’t argue with him, has a hangover and really doesn’t want to deal with an argument this right now, senses that’s just where this will lead her to, just nods and catches Dougie questioning look and mouthed, ‘you okay?’
She hesitantly nods, the corner of her lips upturning into a small, shy smile. She hopes it’s placated him in some way, but then she sees his frowns and knows he’s going to question her later. For now she just wants to lie down in the dark, sleep and pretend last night never happened.
Tom’s cold and standoffish when she gets on the bus and creates as much distance as he can between them. He settles in the lounge with coffee and his morning paper and she slopes off to her bunk without further words, hopes he’ll thaw out and she’ll be able to clear the air later.
The rocking of the bus soon soothes her to sleep and she wakes later to raised voices, her name, her full name no less, shouted through the bus, making her groan and curl her fingers around the edge of the covers tugging them up and over her face as she lays curled up, head pressed into the pillows.
“DANIELLE ALANA JONES!!”
She feels the slight hollow feeling in her chest again and somewhere inside she’s cursing the shots she drank last night, feels grubby and disgusting, really wishes she’d had time for a shower this morning, had chance to wash the cigarettes and alcohol away. She’s really in no mood for whoever’s yelling and whatever they’re yelling for right now.
“DANNY!”
She grimaces recognising the voice, Tom’s voice, and the sound of footsteps that grow ever closer to her bunk. Sinking further beneath the covers she hopes he’ll leave her alone, leave her and her hangover in peace. He doesn’t, of course not, he yanks the curtains back and a second later his face swims before her tired eyes, lips pressed together tight and faint from anger.
“Sometimes I really don’t believe your stupidity Danny!” His words are snapped and he doesn’t have to say more she can see it, feel the anger rolling from him as he simply throws the tabloid paper he’d been holding on her stomach and turns around, marching back the way he came.
Covering her face with her hands she groans and knows what she’s going to find when she looks won’t be something she’ll want to see. She grimaces when she sees what it says, sits on the edge of the bunk, legs swinging from side to side and her teeth biting into her bottom lip. She knows she owes them an apology, a big grovelling apology!
Pulling herself from her bunk, tugging at the sweat top she’s wearing she wanders towards the lounge. The guys are gathered around, watching her with unease and she feels her freckled cheeks heat as she swallows and tilts her head, pushing tangled curls out of her eyes.
“Look, I know what it says and I want to apologize.”
The first words from her dry lips are quiet and she slides into the seat beside Dougie, dropping the paper onto the table in front of her with a sigh. She knows she looks a mess, un-showered, dark curls tangled and make up free, skin pale. But she doesn’t really care anymore.
“He was just some guy.” She says it quietly, voice weak and words meaning very little, knows that doesn’t justify anything. She cans see Tom from the corner of her eyes as he grits his teeth and shakes his head, features slightly pink.
“And that’s exactly the point, you don’t know him, anything could have happened. Bed hopping doesn’t achiever anything but a bad reputation.” Tom’s arms fold and she swallows seeing the look in his eyes, almost wants to ask him who he thinks he is. It shouldn’t matter to him who she invites into her bed, she’s always careful. Something stops her momentarily from saying that to him, and she feels the anger mounting beneath her skin, the pressure building.
“Why are you being so sanctimonious? Would we be having the same conversation if it was one of you guys?” She narrows her gaze at Harry before continuing, knows she’s really just making this whole thing a lot worse for herself. “It’s alright for Harry to shag whoever he likes.”
There’s truth to her words, she sees it in Harry’s eyes, sees the discomfort and remembers how many times she covered for him when they were all living together and he was sneaking girls in and out.
“That’s different.” Tom’s gaze is piercing and hard and she can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, feel the shivers that tremble through her bones and she almost want to challenge him, ask how its different, but he answers for her, voice a little soft and sad and it stops her dead, mouth a little agape.
“We’re just looking out for you, Dan. We care for you, don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“We’ll I won’t. After I saw you I left, nothing happened; I went back to the hotel on my own.” She fails to add the reason why, how she couldn’t sleep for the look she’d seen on his face.
He doesn’t respond just gets to his feet and slopes off towards the bunk. She watches him, rolls her shoulders and with a sigh sinks back into the seat and stares at the paper lain out on the table in front of her. The black and white picture of her locked in an embrace with her mystery man from the night before accompanied by the words ‘MYSTERY MAN FOR MCFLY’S DAN!’ stare back and she feels the tumbling waves of guilt enclosing in upon her once more.
She groans and closes her eyes and feels Dougie’s hand on her own, his words a soft whisper, “It’ll be okay, Dan!”
Right now she fails to see how.
::
The tension lingers between herself and Tom for the next week and in the back of her mind it drives Danny a little insane, not having her writing buddy to throw ideas at, only speaking when necessary. They do a photo shoot, smile for the cameras and pretend it’s all okay. She knows she needs to do something to clear the air, just isn’t sure he’s willing to listen to what she has to say just yet!
She hates the clothes stylists pick out, always dose. It’s always dresses and girly tops when she’d much rather be one of the boys. She hates how they cake her in makeup and how self conscious she feels when Harry teases her. She always snaps in the end, always ends up play fighting, refraining from kneeing him in the nuts to get her own back.
When she stumbles on the bus afterwards, make up free and wearing her own clothes, tee and skinny jeans along with her trusty converse she smiles at Dougie as she passes him in the lounge area, dumps her bag on her bunk and turns back towards him.
“You alright?” His blond haired head lifts, features slightly scrunched when she sits beside him, picking at the label on her water bottle.
“’m fine, Doug’s,” she sighs. “Just miss Tom that’s all. I wish I could make things right between us.” She feels the way her shoulders ache, muscles tight, rolls her shoulders. “I don’t know how and that hurts a bit.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want to admit what you feel, might make it easier.” His words are rumbled, low and she lifts her head and stares at him, eyes dark.
“No Dougie, still good denying I feel anything.” She doesn’t know who she’s trying to fool anymore him or herself. She feels the weight on her chest getting heavier and heavier, feels like she’s in danger of suffocation the longer she denies it. It’s just not that easy though, telling him when it’s only just something she’s started to believe herself, see herself.
“Of course and that’s why you do such stupid things like you did the other night, it has nothing to do with you trying to hide it at all.” He huffs quietly moving small hands to her back, mumbling a ‘so tense, Dan’ as he moves his fingers in gentle circles.
She makes a small sigh, feels warmer and a little less taut as fingers creep across her back and curl around her shoulders, fingers moving and working her kinks and aches free.
“He’ll come round eventually, Dan. Just let him brood.”
She just hums quietly and hopes he’s right but it still niggles under her skin, still makes her feel restless. Its like puzzle pieces are scattered and she’s tasked with finding them, putting them back in place and working it out.
“I can understand brooding but I haven’t done anything you guys haven’t over time. It can’t just be because I’m a girl and he thinks I shouldn’t do these things. He can’t be that pissed off with me because I kissed some bloke!”
Dougie’s eyebrows raise and she feels the knot in her stomach tighten, knows that look and wonders just what theory he’s going to chuck at her now.
“Maybe he isn’t just pissed off because of that, maybe he’s jealous! Think about when it started, Dan! Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
She swallows hard and then shakes her head, the date, the morning after. Her mind feels like she’s wrapped in a haze of cotton wool, spinning, harder to focus. Her head tilts and she stares at Dougie, gravity pulling the pieces into place.
“Oh come on, you can’t seriously believe he has feelings for me, Doug’s?” The voice in the back of her mind vehemently denies it, won’t believe it, but the warm, giddy feeling spreading through her veins betrays her. “You’re completely mad!”
Dougie just offers a lopsided smirk, shrugs and doesn’t say anymore, his hands continuing their movements, rubbing slow and delicate circles into her skin. Her mind wanders else wear, head lifted as the sole focused of her mind steps aboard, blonde hair hidden under a grey beanie, his gaze flashing between herself and Dougie.
She shifts a little, uncomfortable all of a sudden at the position she’s sat in, between Dougie’s legs. Sees it then in his eyes, exactly what Dougie had just said, jealousy. She tries to dislodge the lump forming in her throat, smiles hesitantly and hopes that maybe this time it’ll be enough to break the ice and that the gloominess with just melt away.
His lips turn a little in return, his head bobbing and she knows they still have a long way to go, but it’s a start, a crack in the ice. He’s stepping towards them obviously on his way to the bunk and she’s watching him, milling over Dougie words.
“You looked nice earlier, Dan. For the shoot, I mean.” He stops in the doorway and looks back, words mumbled.
Her mouth feels dry when she smiles, feels the flutter of her heart like there’s a million and one butterflies encased within her ribcage. Her cheeks feel hot and her meek ‘thanks,’ just a whisper is lost to the sound of the humming bus.
::
Its Dougie’s birthday midway through the mini tour and to celebrate they head out afterwards. Danny promises herself as she gets ready, that she’ll be on her best behaviour, the rift between herself and Tom not quiet fully repaired. She feels like she’s waiting for the broken pieces of their friendship to knit themselves back together, the frostiness still there, still hanging in the air like a second skin.
They find themselves in one of those lame VIP areas, plush chairs and free drinks and it doesn’t really take long for Danny’s promise of being good to start slipping. It starts with tequila, but then again doesn’t it always start with alcohol of some sort?
The bar is just the usual, a little bit dark, thick pounding music and pretty face. She doesn’t complain when someone places another set of shots down in front of her, thinks it’s probably Harry and murmurs a thanks. She’s following everyone else’s lead, licking the sprinkling of salt from off the back of her hand and swallowing the shot with a grimace, slamming the glass back down and biting into the lime she wedges between her lips.
It’s bitter and sets her teeth on edge, her features scrunched as she grimaces. She hears someone chuckle and reclines her head and smiles, feels the touch of a hand to her wrist, fingers hooked around as she’s pulled towards the dance floor, not protesting as herself and Harry move to the music.
She feels the heat of the bodies surrounding her, the clash of other people dancing and laughing, having a good time. The effects of the alcohol clouds her mind and she finds herself lost to the rhythm of the music, only noticing Harry has disappeared when she feels his hands on her waist fade away.
It doesn’t deter her and she continues to move, mingling with nameless faces, smiling and laughing. She feels hands on her shoulders this time, and turns quickly coming face to face with Tom. He’s expressionless as he stands before her, smiles and wraps her fingers around his wrist. She wants to dance, wants to dance with him.
“Come dance with me!” She’s tugging on his arms and wrapping her own around his neck, feels the resistance, the stiffness of his body, like cardboard, un-pliant and unwilling to move.
“I think you’ve done enough dancing tonight!”
His tone isn’t angry, isn’t soft, is something in-between and she swallows, takes a mouthful of her drink and allows Tom to lead her from the dance floor. The fresh air hits her face and sobers her as soon as they step outside, skin prickling and head spinning. It takes a few moments for her to gather her bearings, feels Tom watching, knows he’s moved and turns to face him as he speaks.
“Why are you doing this, Dan?”
“Doing what, having fun?” Spinning to face him she watches the frown lines on his forehead, watches as he exhales his frustrations and swallows hard his Adams apple bobbing.
“No, making a spectacle of yourself, Danny!”
She exhales herself, warm breath creating a transparent coil in the air. She can feel all her frustrations, frustrations at him bubbling to the surface again and takes a step back, feels like she could scream and shout at him and still not be satisfied.
“God, what is your problem, Tom?!”
There’s a moment of silence then, eyes dark and glued to one another’s, a clash of hazel brown and aqua blue. Waiting and watching for someone to break it, Tom does eventually, voice cold and harsh.
“You are right now!”
He snaps it in a silent whisper his voice falling away with the realisation of what he’s done, the softness of his features falling into a frown. The words are cruel and she feels cold, feels the sting against her skin like she’s been slapped, the burn of tears in her eyes.
“Thanks, Tom. Really thanks!” She nods her head, swallows the lump forming in her throat and takes a step back, a step away from him, not sure just how long she’d be able to hide the wobble of her lips.
“I’m sorry I can’t always be perfect. I know landing myself in the paper pissed you off, I shouldn’t have let that happen, I shouldn’t have kissed him. And in there I was just having a laugh, dancing, letting my hair down enjoying myself. If I’d have known you think so little of me!”
Her words are spat and her eyes close, turns away before she says something else she knows she’ll live to regret. Then she feels it, feels his hands on her wrist, stopping her moving any further and dragging her back to face him.
“You really have no idea just what, just how much I do think of you!”
Her body thrums when he steps closer, nervous tension, and closes the gap. Before she can react he presses his lips against hers and she’s so stunned for a moment that she doesn’t do anything, doesn’t kiss him back, it’s almost like she’s forgotten how to move.
Just as she feels his lips pull away she grabs his wrist, holds him closer, tilts her head and captures his lips, kissing him in return. It’s soft and gentle to begin with one of his hands resting against the bottom of her back the other on the indent of her hip, fingers stroking over the satiny material of her dress.
Her stomach flips and her pulse goes wild, blood pounding in her ears. She holds back a groan when the kiss deepens, a little more forceful, a little less sweet. The heat of her body against his, the feel of his fingertips, his lips against hers suddenly makes it very hard to concentrate on anything other than that feeling.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, through the haze it all suddenly makes so much more sense and she feels the waves of panic encroaching upon her, pulls away because she can’t do this, shouldn’t, lips kiss swollen and body warm, still buzzing. He watches her through heavy eyes and she thinks he’s going to apologize, doesn’t want him to, something that scares her completely.
“Are you? I mean do you. . .” She trails away, catches her breath before continuing. “Are you in love with me?” She watches as he bobs his head, swallows thickly and tries to keep her balance. Dougie was right all along. Dougie saw what she never could, what she was determined not to believe.
“I am, yes!” And she knows how much courage it must have taken to say that, thinks the light pink hue that flushes his cheeks is cute, shakes her head before that train of thought takes her somewhere she doesn’t want to be, too far.
“How long. How long have you?” She wants to ask how long he’s had feeling for her, wants to ask so many questions but none of them will pass her lips, her breaths heavy as she tries to grasp onto the spiralling edges of her world.
He pauses then and turns and she thinks he’s going to walk away from her, but he stops and she chews on her bottom lip, sees the sad shadows cast across his face as he turns back to face her. “A while, too long maybe.”
She swallows then, momentarily taken aback. It’s not a definitive answer but the jealousy, the sniping, the tension; it all makes so much sense now. Her heart makes a soft thump, thump, thump against her ribcage and she catches his gaze and knows he never meant for any of this to be out in the open, sees the hesitation in his eyes, wonders if he’s regretting telling her already.
There’s a moment then when she wants to tell him none of it mattes, but it does. It does deep down. The uncomfortable silence in the air makes her wish she could say something, something to break the tension, tell him how she feels, tell him that they’ll work though all of this no matter what. She just doesn’t have words anymore, wraps her hands around his wrist when she feels him take a step back, anchoring him in place, bodies so close that even without touching she can feel the heat from his skin.
“I’m glad you told me, Tom!” And she really is, closes the gap this time and watches his eyes widen when her lips meet his, pressing softly, knowing it’s caught him with his guard down. She feels the slight sway of his body, the bruising touch of his lips with each caress and it sets the hairs on the back of her neck on end, the sheer electricity of his touch, the way her body hums and buzzes.
“Want to go back to the hotel?” She sees the shy nod of his head, the bob of his Adams apple when he swallows, and takes a hold of her hand, fingers locking and making some sort of warmth bubble through her veins.
She knows going somewhere more private is the sensible thing to do, that anyone could see them here. Too much had already happened out in the open, but she knows whatever else is going to be said, going to happen will do so behind closed doors.
Author: coloured_dream
Part: 2/4
Rating: NC-17 (overall) PG-13 this part.
Genre: Romance, genderswap
Pairing: Tom/Girl!Dan (Flones!!)
Summary: Danny’s not sure there’s such a thing as a perfect man anymore. But maybe there is and maybe her perfect man has been under her nose the entire time.
Disclaimer: Not mine, nothing more than a work of fiction.
A/N: My first complete venture into girl!fic. I’m a little nervous about posting this because I’ve never actually written anything like this before. It’s my first multi-part McFly fic in a while as well so I really hope you enjoy it.
A/N2: I apologise now for the ridiculous word play on Danny’s real name.
Part One
Part 2
(‘Maybe he isn’t just pissed off because of that, maybe he’s jealous!’)
She doesn’t see Tom until the next morning when they leave the hotel and he barely even looks at her then. It’s the worst feeling in the world, her head hanging, unsure why he’s making her feel like this?
Adjusting the beanie on her head she sighs and tries not to think too hard about it, moves towards him as they stand in the lobby waiting for Harry. He’s always the last one, always late.
“Tom, can I have a word with you?” Her voice is quiet and he looks up, eyes hesitantly meeting her own.
“Not right now Danny!” Its firm and she doesn’t argue with him, has a hangover and really doesn’t want to deal with an argument this right now, senses that’s just where this will lead her to, just nods and catches Dougie questioning look and mouthed, ‘you okay?’
She hesitantly nods, the corner of her lips upturning into a small, shy smile. She hopes it’s placated him in some way, but then she sees his frowns and knows he’s going to question her later. For now she just wants to lie down in the dark, sleep and pretend last night never happened.
Tom’s cold and standoffish when she gets on the bus and creates as much distance as he can between them. He settles in the lounge with coffee and his morning paper and she slopes off to her bunk without further words, hopes he’ll thaw out and she’ll be able to clear the air later.
The rocking of the bus soon soothes her to sleep and she wakes later to raised voices, her name, her full name no less, shouted through the bus, making her groan and curl her fingers around the edge of the covers tugging them up and over her face as she lays curled up, head pressed into the pillows.
“DANIELLE ALANA JONES!!”
She feels the slight hollow feeling in her chest again and somewhere inside she’s cursing the shots she drank last night, feels grubby and disgusting, really wishes she’d had time for a shower this morning, had chance to wash the cigarettes and alcohol away. She’s really in no mood for whoever’s yelling and whatever they’re yelling for right now.
“DANNY!”
She grimaces recognising the voice, Tom’s voice, and the sound of footsteps that grow ever closer to her bunk. Sinking further beneath the covers she hopes he’ll leave her alone, leave her and her hangover in peace. He doesn’t, of course not, he yanks the curtains back and a second later his face swims before her tired eyes, lips pressed together tight and faint from anger.
“Sometimes I really don’t believe your stupidity Danny!” His words are snapped and he doesn’t have to say more she can see it, feel the anger rolling from him as he simply throws the tabloid paper he’d been holding on her stomach and turns around, marching back the way he came.
Covering her face with her hands she groans and knows what she’s going to find when she looks won’t be something she’ll want to see. She grimaces when she sees what it says, sits on the edge of the bunk, legs swinging from side to side and her teeth biting into her bottom lip. She knows she owes them an apology, a big grovelling apology!
Pulling herself from her bunk, tugging at the sweat top she’s wearing she wanders towards the lounge. The guys are gathered around, watching her with unease and she feels her freckled cheeks heat as she swallows and tilts her head, pushing tangled curls out of her eyes.
“Look, I know what it says and I want to apologize.”
The first words from her dry lips are quiet and she slides into the seat beside Dougie, dropping the paper onto the table in front of her with a sigh. She knows she looks a mess, un-showered, dark curls tangled and make up free, skin pale. But she doesn’t really care anymore.
“He was just some guy.” She says it quietly, voice weak and words meaning very little, knows that doesn’t justify anything. She cans see Tom from the corner of her eyes as he grits his teeth and shakes his head, features slightly pink.
“And that’s exactly the point, you don’t know him, anything could have happened. Bed hopping doesn’t achiever anything but a bad reputation.” Tom’s arms fold and she swallows seeing the look in his eyes, almost wants to ask him who he thinks he is. It shouldn’t matter to him who she invites into her bed, she’s always careful. Something stops her momentarily from saying that to him, and she feels the anger mounting beneath her skin, the pressure building.
“Why are you being so sanctimonious? Would we be having the same conversation if it was one of you guys?” She narrows her gaze at Harry before continuing, knows she’s really just making this whole thing a lot worse for herself. “It’s alright for Harry to shag whoever he likes.”
There’s truth to her words, she sees it in Harry’s eyes, sees the discomfort and remembers how many times she covered for him when they were all living together and he was sneaking girls in and out.
“That’s different.” Tom’s gaze is piercing and hard and she can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, feel the shivers that tremble through her bones and she almost want to challenge him, ask how its different, but he answers for her, voice a little soft and sad and it stops her dead, mouth a little agape.
“We’re just looking out for you, Dan. We care for you, don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“We’ll I won’t. After I saw you I left, nothing happened; I went back to the hotel on my own.” She fails to add the reason why, how she couldn’t sleep for the look she’d seen on his face.
He doesn’t respond just gets to his feet and slopes off towards the bunk. She watches him, rolls her shoulders and with a sigh sinks back into the seat and stares at the paper lain out on the table in front of her. The black and white picture of her locked in an embrace with her mystery man from the night before accompanied by the words ‘MYSTERY MAN FOR MCFLY’S DAN!’ stare back and she feels the tumbling waves of guilt enclosing in upon her once more.
She groans and closes her eyes and feels Dougie’s hand on her own, his words a soft whisper, “It’ll be okay, Dan!”
Right now she fails to see how.
::
The tension lingers between herself and Tom for the next week and in the back of her mind it drives Danny a little insane, not having her writing buddy to throw ideas at, only speaking when necessary. They do a photo shoot, smile for the cameras and pretend it’s all okay. She knows she needs to do something to clear the air, just isn’t sure he’s willing to listen to what she has to say just yet!
She hates the clothes stylists pick out, always dose. It’s always dresses and girly tops when she’d much rather be one of the boys. She hates how they cake her in makeup and how self conscious she feels when Harry teases her. She always snaps in the end, always ends up play fighting, refraining from kneeing him in the nuts to get her own back.
When she stumbles on the bus afterwards, make up free and wearing her own clothes, tee and skinny jeans along with her trusty converse she smiles at Dougie as she passes him in the lounge area, dumps her bag on her bunk and turns back towards him.
“You alright?” His blond haired head lifts, features slightly scrunched when she sits beside him, picking at the label on her water bottle.
“’m fine, Doug’s,” she sighs. “Just miss Tom that’s all. I wish I could make things right between us.” She feels the way her shoulders ache, muscles tight, rolls her shoulders. “I don’t know how and that hurts a bit.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want to admit what you feel, might make it easier.” His words are rumbled, low and she lifts her head and stares at him, eyes dark.
“No Dougie, still good denying I feel anything.” She doesn’t know who she’s trying to fool anymore him or herself. She feels the weight on her chest getting heavier and heavier, feels like she’s in danger of suffocation the longer she denies it. It’s just not that easy though, telling him when it’s only just something she’s started to believe herself, see herself.
“Of course and that’s why you do such stupid things like you did the other night, it has nothing to do with you trying to hide it at all.” He huffs quietly moving small hands to her back, mumbling a ‘so tense, Dan’ as he moves his fingers in gentle circles.
She makes a small sigh, feels warmer and a little less taut as fingers creep across her back and curl around her shoulders, fingers moving and working her kinks and aches free.
“He’ll come round eventually, Dan. Just let him brood.”
She just hums quietly and hopes he’s right but it still niggles under her skin, still makes her feel restless. Its like puzzle pieces are scattered and she’s tasked with finding them, putting them back in place and working it out.
“I can understand brooding but I haven’t done anything you guys haven’t over time. It can’t just be because I’m a girl and he thinks I shouldn’t do these things. He can’t be that pissed off with me because I kissed some bloke!”
Dougie’s eyebrows raise and she feels the knot in her stomach tighten, knows that look and wonders just what theory he’s going to chuck at her now.
“Maybe he isn’t just pissed off because of that, maybe he’s jealous! Think about when it started, Dan! Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
She swallows hard and then shakes her head, the date, the morning after. Her mind feels like she’s wrapped in a haze of cotton wool, spinning, harder to focus. Her head tilts and she stares at Dougie, gravity pulling the pieces into place.
“Oh come on, you can’t seriously believe he has feelings for me, Doug’s?” The voice in the back of her mind vehemently denies it, won’t believe it, but the warm, giddy feeling spreading through her veins betrays her. “You’re completely mad!”
Dougie just offers a lopsided smirk, shrugs and doesn’t say anymore, his hands continuing their movements, rubbing slow and delicate circles into her skin. Her mind wanders else wear, head lifted as the sole focused of her mind steps aboard, blonde hair hidden under a grey beanie, his gaze flashing between herself and Dougie.
She shifts a little, uncomfortable all of a sudden at the position she’s sat in, between Dougie’s legs. Sees it then in his eyes, exactly what Dougie had just said, jealousy. She tries to dislodge the lump forming in her throat, smiles hesitantly and hopes that maybe this time it’ll be enough to break the ice and that the gloominess with just melt away.
His lips turn a little in return, his head bobbing and she knows they still have a long way to go, but it’s a start, a crack in the ice. He’s stepping towards them obviously on his way to the bunk and she’s watching him, milling over Dougie words.
“You looked nice earlier, Dan. For the shoot, I mean.” He stops in the doorway and looks back, words mumbled.
Her mouth feels dry when she smiles, feels the flutter of her heart like there’s a million and one butterflies encased within her ribcage. Her cheeks feel hot and her meek ‘thanks,’ just a whisper is lost to the sound of the humming bus.
::
Its Dougie’s birthday midway through the mini tour and to celebrate they head out afterwards. Danny promises herself as she gets ready, that she’ll be on her best behaviour, the rift between herself and Tom not quiet fully repaired. She feels like she’s waiting for the broken pieces of their friendship to knit themselves back together, the frostiness still there, still hanging in the air like a second skin.
They find themselves in one of those lame VIP areas, plush chairs and free drinks and it doesn’t really take long for Danny’s promise of being good to start slipping. It starts with tequila, but then again doesn’t it always start with alcohol of some sort?
The bar is just the usual, a little bit dark, thick pounding music and pretty face. She doesn’t complain when someone places another set of shots down in front of her, thinks it’s probably Harry and murmurs a thanks. She’s following everyone else’s lead, licking the sprinkling of salt from off the back of her hand and swallowing the shot with a grimace, slamming the glass back down and biting into the lime she wedges between her lips.
It’s bitter and sets her teeth on edge, her features scrunched as she grimaces. She hears someone chuckle and reclines her head and smiles, feels the touch of a hand to her wrist, fingers hooked around as she’s pulled towards the dance floor, not protesting as herself and Harry move to the music.
She feels the heat of the bodies surrounding her, the clash of other people dancing and laughing, having a good time. The effects of the alcohol clouds her mind and she finds herself lost to the rhythm of the music, only noticing Harry has disappeared when she feels his hands on her waist fade away.
It doesn’t deter her and she continues to move, mingling with nameless faces, smiling and laughing. She feels hands on her shoulders this time, and turns quickly coming face to face with Tom. He’s expressionless as he stands before her, smiles and wraps her fingers around his wrist. She wants to dance, wants to dance with him.
“Come dance with me!” She’s tugging on his arms and wrapping her own around his neck, feels the resistance, the stiffness of his body, like cardboard, un-pliant and unwilling to move.
“I think you’ve done enough dancing tonight!”
His tone isn’t angry, isn’t soft, is something in-between and she swallows, takes a mouthful of her drink and allows Tom to lead her from the dance floor. The fresh air hits her face and sobers her as soon as they step outside, skin prickling and head spinning. It takes a few moments for her to gather her bearings, feels Tom watching, knows he’s moved and turns to face him as he speaks.
“Why are you doing this, Dan?”
“Doing what, having fun?” Spinning to face him she watches the frown lines on his forehead, watches as he exhales his frustrations and swallows hard his Adams apple bobbing.
“No, making a spectacle of yourself, Danny!”
She exhales herself, warm breath creating a transparent coil in the air. She can feel all her frustrations, frustrations at him bubbling to the surface again and takes a step back, feels like she could scream and shout at him and still not be satisfied.
“God, what is your problem, Tom?!”
There’s a moment of silence then, eyes dark and glued to one another’s, a clash of hazel brown and aqua blue. Waiting and watching for someone to break it, Tom does eventually, voice cold and harsh.
“You are right now!”
He snaps it in a silent whisper his voice falling away with the realisation of what he’s done, the softness of his features falling into a frown. The words are cruel and she feels cold, feels the sting against her skin like she’s been slapped, the burn of tears in her eyes.
“Thanks, Tom. Really thanks!” She nods her head, swallows the lump forming in her throat and takes a step back, a step away from him, not sure just how long she’d be able to hide the wobble of her lips.
“I’m sorry I can’t always be perfect. I know landing myself in the paper pissed you off, I shouldn’t have let that happen, I shouldn’t have kissed him. And in there I was just having a laugh, dancing, letting my hair down enjoying myself. If I’d have known you think so little of me!”
Her words are spat and her eyes close, turns away before she says something else she knows she’ll live to regret. Then she feels it, feels his hands on her wrist, stopping her moving any further and dragging her back to face him.
“You really have no idea just what, just how much I do think of you!”
Her body thrums when he steps closer, nervous tension, and closes the gap. Before she can react he presses his lips against hers and she’s so stunned for a moment that she doesn’t do anything, doesn’t kiss him back, it’s almost like she’s forgotten how to move.
Just as she feels his lips pull away she grabs his wrist, holds him closer, tilts her head and captures his lips, kissing him in return. It’s soft and gentle to begin with one of his hands resting against the bottom of her back the other on the indent of her hip, fingers stroking over the satiny material of her dress.
Her stomach flips and her pulse goes wild, blood pounding in her ears. She holds back a groan when the kiss deepens, a little more forceful, a little less sweet. The heat of her body against his, the feel of his fingertips, his lips against hers suddenly makes it very hard to concentrate on anything other than that feeling.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, through the haze it all suddenly makes so much more sense and she feels the waves of panic encroaching upon her, pulls away because she can’t do this, shouldn’t, lips kiss swollen and body warm, still buzzing. He watches her through heavy eyes and she thinks he’s going to apologize, doesn’t want him to, something that scares her completely.
“Are you? I mean do you. . .” She trails away, catches her breath before continuing. “Are you in love with me?” She watches as he bobs his head, swallows thickly and tries to keep her balance. Dougie was right all along. Dougie saw what she never could, what she was determined not to believe.
“I am, yes!” And she knows how much courage it must have taken to say that, thinks the light pink hue that flushes his cheeks is cute, shakes her head before that train of thought takes her somewhere she doesn’t want to be, too far.
“How long. How long have you?” She wants to ask how long he’s had feeling for her, wants to ask so many questions but none of them will pass her lips, her breaths heavy as she tries to grasp onto the spiralling edges of her world.
He pauses then and turns and she thinks he’s going to walk away from her, but he stops and she chews on her bottom lip, sees the sad shadows cast across his face as he turns back to face her. “A while, too long maybe.”
She swallows then, momentarily taken aback. It’s not a definitive answer but the jealousy, the sniping, the tension; it all makes so much sense now. Her heart makes a soft thump, thump, thump against her ribcage and she catches his gaze and knows he never meant for any of this to be out in the open, sees the hesitation in his eyes, wonders if he’s regretting telling her already.
There’s a moment then when she wants to tell him none of it mattes, but it does. It does deep down. The uncomfortable silence in the air makes her wish she could say something, something to break the tension, tell him how she feels, tell him that they’ll work though all of this no matter what. She just doesn’t have words anymore, wraps her hands around his wrist when she feels him take a step back, anchoring him in place, bodies so close that even without touching she can feel the heat from his skin.
“I’m glad you told me, Tom!” And she really is, closes the gap this time and watches his eyes widen when her lips meet his, pressing softly, knowing it’s caught him with his guard down. She feels the slight sway of his body, the bruising touch of his lips with each caress and it sets the hairs on the back of her neck on end, the sheer electricity of his touch, the way her body hums and buzzes.
“Want to go back to the hotel?” She sees the shy nod of his head, the bob of his Adams apple when he swallows, and takes a hold of her hand, fingers locking and making some sort of warmth bubble through her veins.
She knows going somewhere more private is the sensible thing to do, that anyone could see them here. Too much had already happened out in the open, but she knows whatever else is going to be said, going to happen will do so behind closed doors.