Only Just Begun (McFly) Fletcher/Jones - Part 01
Title: Only Just Begun
Author: coloured_dream
Part: 1/4
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 started writing this sometime last year but I lost all inspiration and gave up writing McFly completely for a while. When I came back to it I hated what I already had and spent quite a long time re-writing and editing and I finally managed to get it finished. I’m going through a bit of a Flones stage at the moment as well so that was a massive help.
Only Just Begun
Part one
(‘love always wins, doesn’t matter how much you deny it!’)
Her head rests against the cold window and she’s almost asleep. Almost. She knows she would be if it wasn’t for the constant jiggle of the car over the bumps in the road that make the journey uncomfortable, make falling into any sort of real slumber difficult.
She feels like she’s hardly slept for days, it isn’t far wrong either. They were up before dawn this morning going to a radio interview, then onto a signing and a pre-recorded performance. She feels the exhaustion on her limbs, mind heavy and hazy.
I’m just resting my eyes I deserve it, she thinks, still able to hear the guy’s conversation, muffled and distorted by the hum of the engine, smiles to herself and opens her eyes when she feels the car slowing.
She peers out of the window through squinted eyes and sees it’s their street, the sun sinking in the murky grey sky, the dull rays bobbing over the slanting rooftops of their houses. Sliding the car door open she steps out onto the wet pavement, converse splashing in the puddles as she pulls on her hoody and hoists the bag of stage clothes over her shoulder.
“So anyone fancy a movie marathon at my place tonight, beer and pizza.”
She can almost sense Tom bouncing as he utters the words, smiles to herself. The slight breeze ruffles dark curls as they spill over her shoulder, tilts her head towards him and watches him walk around the back of the car.
“Dan, you up for it?”
She grins at him, watching the way his blonde locks blow in the breeze, shining a pale honey colour in the dispersing sun. She almost feels guilty when she shakes her head, watches his features fall, eyes darkening just a little.
“Sorry, can’t I have a date tonight.” She says it with a smile a warm and bright smile, but doesn’t really feel anything. She tries not to notice the way his features have sunken, the way his eyes seem duller, sadder. She tries, really tries not to register the way the knot of guilt in her stomach tightens.
“What? That dude you met yesterday at that pre-record. The tech guy?” She hears the awe in Dougie’s voice, hears his wet footsteps as he moves towards her and she nods her head and smiles softly, consciously aware of Tom watching her.
She knows he’s always had a tendency to protect, to be slightly overbearing at times; it hadn’t really been something that really bothered her in the past. It made tummy flip just knowing there he was there, looking out for her. Harry and Dougie were the same in their own ways, just with Tom it was different, he projected security and warmth.
“Yes, the tech guy, Doug’s. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a date to get ready for, I seriously need to shower. Enjoy your movie, guys!” And with that she turns towards her house, hair blowing in the breeze, ignoring Harry’s over exaggerate, ‘ooooh, that told you, Doug’s!’ flipping him the finger and disappearing inside, into the warmth.
::
Darkness envelops the road before the moving taxi the headlights illuminating the way. The gentle pitter patter of the rain drops against the windows was somewhat soothing to her exhausted mind. Rubbing her palm lazily across the slightly condensed glass, she watches the world pass by in a dizzying blur, her head lolling slightly, her hot freckled cheek pressing against the cold, slightly damp window pane.
It wasn’t until she heard the deep cockney voice of the driver, a grey haired man perhaps in his mid fifties, that she realised the taxi had stopped by the curb outside her house. Thankful for the darkness hiding her blushes she lifts her head off the window, quickly tucking a strand of deep auburn hair behind her ear.
“You alright love?” he peers at her through the partition, eyes filled with concern and all she can do is nod shyly, somewhat mortified by the strangers worry, glad he doesn’t seem to recognise her, probably thinks she’s just another drunk going to puck all over his backseats.
“Yeah, fine, thanks. So how much do I owe you?”
He taps the meter and she sees the bright illuminated number nods and digs around in her purse for the money.
“Keep the change, yeah.” She steps out onto the pavement the light mizzle of rain falling across her skin, rousing goose bumps and inwardly she cursed herself for not bringing a jacket.
She watches the taxi crawling away in the distance, lights fading and with a gentle sigh she’s stumbling towards the house, splashing through the puddles that had accumulated on the driveway. It’s as she’s stood fumbling around in her bag for a key that the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and the feeling of being watched, of not quite being alone creeps through her veins.
Turning quickly her cobalt eyes scan the darkness as the panic, the adrenaline, rushes through her veins like a bolt of lightning through stormy skies. Once her eyes have adjusted they come to rest on the all too familiar figure stood nonchalantly leaning against the garden gate, cigarette between his lips, the tip blazing orange and glowing in the darkness, the panic disappearing almost as fast as it had come.
“Don’t scream, it’s just me.” His voice is thick, smoke curling away from him and she instantly feels calmer, the rage of fear that had been below her skin nonexistent now. She exhales the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, creating an almost transparent coil in the air.
“I can see that Dougie. What the fuck are you doing prowling around at...” She looked down at her watch, squinting at the numbers. “Ten past twelve?”
“I aren’t prowling around. I was taking Flea for a walk,” he gestured to the chocolate Labrador by his feet; something that she’d somehow missed, and continues. “And we saw you and thought we’d say hi.” He grins stubbing out his cigarette and she rolls her eyes, watching him, eyes narrowed.
“Sure.”
It was times like this she cursed them all living so close together, she just wants to get into bed, sleep, forget the night. Turning back to the door and jamming the key in the lock she didn’t need eyes to know he’d moved, she could hear his footsteps on the wet ground, could pretty much sense his presence beside her.
“So how was your night?”
“A bit of a letdown actually. But I’d rather not talk about it here, I’m freezing.”
She turns her head when she speaks, watching the street lamps glint in his irises and rubs at her goose bumped arms for emphasis, pushing the door open. He follows her inside.
“Why don’t I get rid of Flea and you can tell me all about it?” He nods to the dog that licks his fingers affectionately when he pats his head, then looks and back to her, watching her head bob
“Sure.” She smiles softly, gratefully and suppresses a yawn. Dougie disappears before she has chance to blink and she leaves the door open a fraction, toes off her flats in the hallway and rubs at her feet with a sigh.
Turning on her heels she heads for the kitchen, the parquet flooring cold against the soles of her feet. Wrenching the fridge door open with slightly more force than intended, the bottles inside clinking, she sighs pulling the vodka out, head lifting and eyes meeting Dougie’s. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
“So what happened?” She watches as he pushes blonde hair out of his eyes and smiles lopsidedly.
“Jeez! You’d make a great burglar. What do you do walk on air?”
“Danny!” He tilts his head, voice serious and watches as she chews on her bottom lip, head turned towards him, long dark curls flowing over her shoulders. Underneath all that eccentricity Dougie had a caring side that could rival Tom’s; he knew what to say to make her smile or laugh, to make things just a little easier.
“He was just a monumental let down.” She shrugs and pulls two glasses from the cupboard above her and squeezed by him.
“He didn’t hurt you. Try anything dodgy, did he?”
Like an obedient puppy Dougie follows her, slouching down on the couch beside her an arm thrown over the back, fingers gently brushing through her hair.
There’s a definite edge to his voice, can’t mistake it for anything other than worry and she can’t help but smile, shaking her head. It feels strange hearing those words from Dougie. The same Dougie who was almost a year younger than her, that looked like he’d snap in the wrong sort of breeze.
“No nothing like that! He just, I just. God, I don’t even know. It wasn’t quite how I expected.” She shrugs and swallows and tries to form some sort of understanding. It’s impossible. There really wasn’t anything wrong with the guy, he wasn’t the sort of guy that looked liked he’d brag to his friends, was charming enough, had a good job, made her laugh and saw past her job. It was something else, something subconscious, something there in the back of her head, a steady niggle.
“He just, he wasn’t the right guy!”
“You mean he isn’t Tom!”
Her head snaps up at that, surprised, unsure as to where Dougie gets his assumptions from. Isn’t sure why she’s not denying it either. Thinks Dougie obviously sees something she can’t, isn’t sure why alarm bells aren’t ringing.
He eyes her warily, sighing softly. “You won’t be able to hide it forever, Dan! It’ll creep up and catch you in its trap when you least expect it, love always wins, doesn’t matter how much you deny it!”
“I’m not trying to hide or deny anything, its kinda hard to when there’s nothing there to hide.” She swallows hard the weight of her tongue heavy, tone clipped, takes a quick drink and swallows the clear liquid with a grimace and lulls herself into silence.
Dougie doesn’t push, say anymore he just cocks his head with a knowing smile, and thanks her when she hands him a glass. “You’ve still got me anyway,” the words are said in jest, with a smile, consciously aware he’s being watched, of Danny’s curious blue eyes lingering on the light line of stubble that accentuates his features and makes him seem more mature than he actually is.
She still can’t work out when he grew from painfully shy boy to an outspoken and brash man, her best friend, someone to laugh with, get drunk with, cry with. She lets her lips curl and doesn’t reply.
“So what was your night like?” She thinks a subject change is best, takes the glare off herself and listens to him sigh and launch into his own account of the night, giggles to herself and rests her head on his shoulder, thankful to have him around, thankful for a friend like him.
::
The thing with Danny is she completely trusts the guys, one hundred percent. So when she wakes up the next morning in her bed beside a sleeping lump she knows is Dougie, she feels there is nothing at all odd or wrong about that. He’s just Dougie.
She scrunches up her nose at the sunlight that streams through the open blinds, sits up and rubs languidly at her eyes. She can hear his muffled words, can’t quite make out what, thinks its something along the lines of, ‘get off my leg, get off!’ shakes her head bemused and slips from between the sheets, pulling the straps of her pyjama top back into place as she creeps towards the ensuiet.
When she sheds her clothes she feels the slight chill to her skin and quickly turns the water on, stepping into the cubical the warm water beating down on her skin, awakening her senses. She works the strawberry shampoo through tangled curls, the suds washing away and down the drain when she tilts her head backwards and under the spray of water.
She can feel the dirt, the club, washing from her skin and when she gets out, wrapping a towel around herself she feels so much more comfy in her skin, cleaner, refreshed, ready for the world. She quickly towel dries her hair, dark spindly curls hanging limply around her face, cleans her teeth and returns to the bedroom, much, much fresher.
Dougie’s awake this time, sat upright against the headboard hair mussed and eyes scrunched slightly, peering at her. He mumbles a morning; words rough and sleep filled and watches with a smirk as she grabs hold of the towel and pulls tighter, stepping towards the bed.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before!” He wiggles his eyebrows and smirks at her.
“Yeah, in your dreams you big perv!” She replies with a giggle and roll of her eyes, sitting on the edge of her bed, rifling through the bedside draw. She feels Dougie’s fingers moving over her exposed skin, knows it’s just an instinctive gesture, fingertips soft and like a shadow catching the stray droplets of water that roll from the nape of her neck and along her spine, wiping them away.
“Every night baby!” He deadpans and she can feel his breath on the back of her neck as he smirks, almost wants to lean back into his touch and ask him to press harder, but he’s mumbling softly and leaving the bed and she’s shaking her head, a loud and obtrusive knock breaking the silence.
She sighs, grabs hold of her towel as she stands up making sure it’s securely in place and leaves Dougie in the bedroom rooting around on the floor for his clothes from the night before. She knows how the whole scene would look to an outsider, shuts the bedroom door and pulls open the front door.
When she sees who’s on the other side she almost blushes at her lack of clothing, cursing herself for not getting dressed straight away. She can feel the heat pooling in her cheeks, feels Tom’s eyes roaming the skin, watching the droplets of water fall from the ends of her hair and onto her collarbone. She tries to divert her focus away from the way that makes her feel, tries to concentrate on something other than the way his hazel eyes darken further, the way his cheeks pinken.
He coughs then as if finding his manners and snapping his head upwards, swallowing hard. He meets her eyes with a sheepish smile, a soft, ‘I need your help,’ falling from between his lips.
Before she can answer, before she thinks to pull her thoughts together Tom is stepping by her and into the hallway, lyric book in hand, his cheeks rosy and she’s not ultimately sure if it’s because of the slight breeze outside of the state of undresses he’s found her in. She’s not sure why she’d prefer it to be the latter.
“Have you seen Dougie, he’s not. . .” She hears Tom trail off and turns and follows his gaze, finds him staring at her bedroom door, obviously hearing movement from the other side.
“Oh, sorry is your date from last night here?” He stops and she stares, watching as he licks at his bottom lip, hears his voice break and she can’t explain just what she feels, just why there’s an hollow feeling in the centre of her chest.
“I can go, come back later.”
She’s not sure why the hurt in his voice bothers her so much, doesn’t know why the look in his eyes makes her skin tingle and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She’s not sure how he’s rendered her speechless like he has.
Her mouth opens and she wants to say, ‘no, don’t its only Dougie’ but she can’t find her voice. It’s then that the bedroom door opens and Dougie appears just in his boxers, hair tussled and scratching his stomach and she sees Tom’s eyes darken and feels like she needs to justify herself to him.
She can see what he’s thinking, sees it in his eyes and almost wants to say it’s not what you think, clichéd but so true, but she shouldn’t have to, need to. She wonders just how well he knows her and it annoys her that he’d think she’d do that with Dougie, she’d never, not with any of her band mates, her friends.
“S’up, Tom!” Dougie just nods, totally oblivious, features innocent and a picture of perfectness as he disappears into the kitchen. She swallows and can see the vein in Tom’s neck protruding, sees the way his jaw sets, the flicker of discomfort on pale flesh.
“We got drunk and fell asleep together.”
Even though it’s the complete truth it feels like a lie, feel like she’s done something wrong; voice a low murmur and an arm waved in Dougie’s general direction, the night still hazy.
“It’s none of my business.” Tom shakes his head; his tone is standoffish and clipped, his eyes not quite meeting her own. She feels the shiver jolt along her spine and doesn’t know why, just knows it’s a feeling she likes, that sets nerve endings on fire, head shaking those thoughts away.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll have a look over your lyrics, yeah.”
She’s walking away before he can answer, wet feet leaving marks on the floor.
::
She spends the weekend writing with the boys and it is while sprawled out on the music room floor with Tom that it all clicks together and Dougie’s words echo in her mind. She can feel the weight hanging over her, swinging back and forth, just waiting to crash into her, dragging her from her feet.
Tom watches her, chewing on the end of his biro as she scribbles down lyrics humming gently to herself before turning the book around so he can see what she’s written. He smiles as he looks over her words, adds some himself, repeating the process over and over again.
“Your date, what went wrong you seemed pretty excited about it.” He knows he shouldn’t pry but he can’t help himself from blurting it out, curiosity clawing under his skin.
He sees the taken aback look on her face and is about to make an apology for snooping but before he can she’s speaking and he’s listening intently, voice like velvet wrapping around him.
“I just realised he wasn’t the right guy for me!” She stands up and smiles, isn’t sure she wants to talk anymore about this. “You want another beer,” she gestures to the bottle by his wrist and watches him nod.
The rest of the weekend is spent watching TV, eating pizza and lounging around. All the awkwardness seems to have melted away. They all lounge around on her living room floor, drink beer and just giggle with one another as Harry recounts his latest date. She shares cigarettes with Dougie out on the patio, smiles when he wraps his arms around her and rests her head on his shoulder, he might look weedy but he’s comfortable.
When Dougie and Harry fall asleep on the sofa part way through the film they’re watching she catches Tom’s eyes and it doesn’t feel weird, not at all. At least that’s what she tells herself.
::
They get into the gruelling tour rehearsals first thing Monday morning, work their way through what’s going to work, what wont, what songs they want to include and what order they should be in. Danny can feel Tom’s gaze on her the whole time she strums her guitar, and bounces her head to the beat, giggling as Dougie rushes by her.
Her cheeks are hot, her skin sticky with sweat as they play though the set list once without stopping, getting a feel for how things are working, then talking over what needs to be changed later.
They spend the better part of the week in some grungy little studio rehearsing, spend the whole day Thursday travelling to their first venue, spend Friday running the set through and rehearsing some more, and by Saturday night are ready to show just what they can do!
Opening night goes with the usual hitches, unpredictable hitches. Broken guitar strings, Dougie’s stories and a fair few curses when fingers slip and miss notes, glances cast between. Danny always feels in her element when on stage, when playing, when singing, when entertaining a crowd.
She feels goosebumps on her arms, feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as her eyes narrow and she glances across the crowd, watching lips move, singing back, singing one of her songs. She looks towards Tom with a wide smile on her face, feels elated, savouring every second.
When they get off stage sweaty and flushes she feels like she’s walking on air. When Dougie suggests they go out to celebrate their first show the agreement with that idea is more than evident on everyone’s lips.
Once they get back to the hotel the first thing they do is go up to their room, hastily shower and arrange to meet in the bar and of course Danny’s the first one there, curls still a little wet on the end from the shower. She’s not particularly dressed up, casual and comfy but sort of elegant, legs crossed carefully as she chats to the blond barman, ordering herself a vodka and cranberry with a subtle flutter of her eyelashes.
“You just can’t help yourself, can’t resist flirting with the pretty boys.”
She jumps hearing Dougie’s voice, a smile evident in his words as he slides onto a stool beside her, flashing her that dirty and mischievous grin of his that has her giggling and ordering him a beer, swirling her straw around in her drink, ice clunking against the side of the glass.
“Oh, honey not feeling left out, are you?” She coos with a giggle and pats his cheek lightly, bracelets jingling around her wrist. “I’m just getting myself ready for a night out, dancing and alcohol.” She sighs happily, eyes glistening with promise as she sweeps dark curls out of her eyes.
Dougie just grins.
::
She doesn’t really remember his name, but then again it doesn’t really matter too much, names are overrated. He’s a good kisser and somewhere in the back of her alcohol clouded mind that’s all that really counts, it shouldn’t be, but it is.
The groan that rumbles from between her lips is entirely surprising, feels his hand close around her hip, soft fingertips stroking the skin below her top as her lips part and his tongue meets her own. She can taste the beer, the shots they had and the cigarettes they came outside to smoke, closes her eyes and groans again, sinking against him.
She feels his muscles taut under the palm of her hand and his skin warm, feels the goose bumps spilling over her skin and her fingers move curling around his shoulders as she arches up into him, not really minding when he backs her against the slightly mossy wall, the bricks cold against her back.
It’s when his arms tighten their grip that she feels her head spin, feels herself sobering up, and knows just how wrong this is. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, blue eyes flicker when their lips part, heavy breaths in the cold air creating a cloud in the atmosphere that curls around them. He nuzzles against her neck, lips wet as they graze the skin his hands staying on her waist, fingers continuing to caress the warm skin.
There’s a part of her, a small part that wants to curl her fingers around his own and drag him towards one of the taxis that are lined up in front of the club, knows she can’t, she won’t. She pulls her body away completely and it’s in a moment of sanity that she sees him, sees him watching them, eyes dark and features creased into a furious frown, that gaping hole is back aching in her chest, the guilt bubbling in her stomach.
His blond hair shines under the street lights, the strands glinting as he shakes his head and turns his back to them. The shivers that run through the core of her body are completely disturbing, the look in his eyes, the disgust and anger suddenly making her feel much sober, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
She feels the eyes of the man whose name she’s yet to remember staring at her with a crook of his eyebrows, can’t form words, can’t feel anything other than guilt. It’s a feeling that leaves her hollow and confused because really she’s done nothing wrong.
“Hey, where are you going?”
He’s speaking, calling after her, but she’s shaking her head, dark curls falling across her face as she stumbles away from him, Tom the sole thought on her mind.
“I can’t. I can’t do this!”
The look on Tom’s face, the streaking of his dark eyes with diluted disgust makes her heart drop and her head hang. She doesn’t know why it’s so important she just knows she needs to speak to him, explain this to him.
Author: coloured_dream
Part: 1/4
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 started writing this sometime last year but I lost all inspiration and gave up writing McFly completely for a while. When I came back to it I hated what I already had and spent quite a long time re-writing and editing and I finally managed to get it finished. I’m going through a bit of a Flones stage at the moment as well so that was a massive help.
Only Just Begun
Part one
(‘love always wins, doesn’t matter how much you deny it!’)
Her head rests against the cold window and she’s almost asleep. Almost. She knows she would be if it wasn’t for the constant jiggle of the car over the bumps in the road that make the journey uncomfortable, make falling into any sort of real slumber difficult.
She feels like she’s hardly slept for days, it isn’t far wrong either. They were up before dawn this morning going to a radio interview, then onto a signing and a pre-recorded performance. She feels the exhaustion on her limbs, mind heavy and hazy.
I’m just resting my eyes I deserve it, she thinks, still able to hear the guy’s conversation, muffled and distorted by the hum of the engine, smiles to herself and opens her eyes when she feels the car slowing.
She peers out of the window through squinted eyes and sees it’s their street, the sun sinking in the murky grey sky, the dull rays bobbing over the slanting rooftops of their houses. Sliding the car door open she steps out onto the wet pavement, converse splashing in the puddles as she pulls on her hoody and hoists the bag of stage clothes over her shoulder.
“So anyone fancy a movie marathon at my place tonight, beer and pizza.”
She can almost sense Tom bouncing as he utters the words, smiles to herself. The slight breeze ruffles dark curls as they spill over her shoulder, tilts her head towards him and watches him walk around the back of the car.
“Dan, you up for it?”
She grins at him, watching the way his blonde locks blow in the breeze, shining a pale honey colour in the dispersing sun. She almost feels guilty when she shakes her head, watches his features fall, eyes darkening just a little.
“Sorry, can’t I have a date tonight.” She says it with a smile a warm and bright smile, but doesn’t really feel anything. She tries not to notice the way his features have sunken, the way his eyes seem duller, sadder. She tries, really tries not to register the way the knot of guilt in her stomach tightens.
“What? That dude you met yesterday at that pre-record. The tech guy?” She hears the awe in Dougie’s voice, hears his wet footsteps as he moves towards her and she nods her head and smiles softly, consciously aware of Tom watching her.
She knows he’s always had a tendency to protect, to be slightly overbearing at times; it hadn’t really been something that really bothered her in the past. It made tummy flip just knowing there he was there, looking out for her. Harry and Dougie were the same in their own ways, just with Tom it was different, he projected security and warmth.
“Yes, the tech guy, Doug’s. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a date to get ready for, I seriously need to shower. Enjoy your movie, guys!” And with that she turns towards her house, hair blowing in the breeze, ignoring Harry’s over exaggerate, ‘ooooh, that told you, Doug’s!’ flipping him the finger and disappearing inside, into the warmth.
::
Darkness envelops the road before the moving taxi the headlights illuminating the way. The gentle pitter patter of the rain drops against the windows was somewhat soothing to her exhausted mind. Rubbing her palm lazily across the slightly condensed glass, she watches the world pass by in a dizzying blur, her head lolling slightly, her hot freckled cheek pressing against the cold, slightly damp window pane.
It wasn’t until she heard the deep cockney voice of the driver, a grey haired man perhaps in his mid fifties, that she realised the taxi had stopped by the curb outside her house. Thankful for the darkness hiding her blushes she lifts her head off the window, quickly tucking a strand of deep auburn hair behind her ear.
“You alright love?” he peers at her through the partition, eyes filled with concern and all she can do is nod shyly, somewhat mortified by the strangers worry, glad he doesn’t seem to recognise her, probably thinks she’s just another drunk going to puck all over his backseats.
“Yeah, fine, thanks. So how much do I owe you?”
He taps the meter and she sees the bright illuminated number nods and digs around in her purse for the money.
“Keep the change, yeah.” She steps out onto the pavement the light mizzle of rain falling across her skin, rousing goose bumps and inwardly she cursed herself for not bringing a jacket.
She watches the taxi crawling away in the distance, lights fading and with a gentle sigh she’s stumbling towards the house, splashing through the puddles that had accumulated on the driveway. It’s as she’s stood fumbling around in her bag for a key that the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and the feeling of being watched, of not quite being alone creeps through her veins.
Turning quickly her cobalt eyes scan the darkness as the panic, the adrenaline, rushes through her veins like a bolt of lightning through stormy skies. Once her eyes have adjusted they come to rest on the all too familiar figure stood nonchalantly leaning against the garden gate, cigarette between his lips, the tip blazing orange and glowing in the darkness, the panic disappearing almost as fast as it had come.
“Don’t scream, it’s just me.” His voice is thick, smoke curling away from him and she instantly feels calmer, the rage of fear that had been below her skin nonexistent now. She exhales the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, creating an almost transparent coil in the air.
“I can see that Dougie. What the fuck are you doing prowling around at...” She looked down at her watch, squinting at the numbers. “Ten past twelve?”
“I aren’t prowling around. I was taking Flea for a walk,” he gestured to the chocolate Labrador by his feet; something that she’d somehow missed, and continues. “And we saw you and thought we’d say hi.” He grins stubbing out his cigarette and she rolls her eyes, watching him, eyes narrowed.
“Sure.”
It was times like this she cursed them all living so close together, she just wants to get into bed, sleep, forget the night. Turning back to the door and jamming the key in the lock she didn’t need eyes to know he’d moved, she could hear his footsteps on the wet ground, could pretty much sense his presence beside her.
“So how was your night?”
“A bit of a letdown actually. But I’d rather not talk about it here, I’m freezing.”
She turns her head when she speaks, watching the street lamps glint in his irises and rubs at her goose bumped arms for emphasis, pushing the door open. He follows her inside.
“Why don’t I get rid of Flea and you can tell me all about it?” He nods to the dog that licks his fingers affectionately when he pats his head, then looks and back to her, watching her head bob
“Sure.” She smiles softly, gratefully and suppresses a yawn. Dougie disappears before she has chance to blink and she leaves the door open a fraction, toes off her flats in the hallway and rubs at her feet with a sigh.
Turning on her heels she heads for the kitchen, the parquet flooring cold against the soles of her feet. Wrenching the fridge door open with slightly more force than intended, the bottles inside clinking, she sighs pulling the vodka out, head lifting and eyes meeting Dougie’s. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
“So what happened?” She watches as he pushes blonde hair out of his eyes and smiles lopsidedly.
“Jeez! You’d make a great burglar. What do you do walk on air?”
“Danny!” He tilts his head, voice serious and watches as she chews on her bottom lip, head turned towards him, long dark curls flowing over her shoulders. Underneath all that eccentricity Dougie had a caring side that could rival Tom’s; he knew what to say to make her smile or laugh, to make things just a little easier.
“He was just a monumental let down.” She shrugs and pulls two glasses from the cupboard above her and squeezed by him.
“He didn’t hurt you. Try anything dodgy, did he?”
Like an obedient puppy Dougie follows her, slouching down on the couch beside her an arm thrown over the back, fingers gently brushing through her hair.
There’s a definite edge to his voice, can’t mistake it for anything other than worry and she can’t help but smile, shaking her head. It feels strange hearing those words from Dougie. The same Dougie who was almost a year younger than her, that looked like he’d snap in the wrong sort of breeze.
“No nothing like that! He just, I just. God, I don’t even know. It wasn’t quite how I expected.” She shrugs and swallows and tries to form some sort of understanding. It’s impossible. There really wasn’t anything wrong with the guy, he wasn’t the sort of guy that looked liked he’d brag to his friends, was charming enough, had a good job, made her laugh and saw past her job. It was something else, something subconscious, something there in the back of her head, a steady niggle.
“He just, he wasn’t the right guy!”
“You mean he isn’t Tom!”
Her head snaps up at that, surprised, unsure as to where Dougie gets his assumptions from. Isn’t sure why she’s not denying it either. Thinks Dougie obviously sees something she can’t, isn’t sure why alarm bells aren’t ringing.
He eyes her warily, sighing softly. “You won’t be able to hide it forever, Dan! It’ll creep up and catch you in its trap when you least expect it, love always wins, doesn’t matter how much you deny it!”
“I’m not trying to hide or deny anything, its kinda hard to when there’s nothing there to hide.” She swallows hard the weight of her tongue heavy, tone clipped, takes a quick drink and swallows the clear liquid with a grimace and lulls herself into silence.
Dougie doesn’t push, say anymore he just cocks his head with a knowing smile, and thanks her when she hands him a glass. “You’ve still got me anyway,” the words are said in jest, with a smile, consciously aware he’s being watched, of Danny’s curious blue eyes lingering on the light line of stubble that accentuates his features and makes him seem more mature than he actually is.
She still can’t work out when he grew from painfully shy boy to an outspoken and brash man, her best friend, someone to laugh with, get drunk with, cry with. She lets her lips curl and doesn’t reply.
“So what was your night like?” She thinks a subject change is best, takes the glare off herself and listens to him sigh and launch into his own account of the night, giggles to herself and rests her head on his shoulder, thankful to have him around, thankful for a friend like him.
::
The thing with Danny is she completely trusts the guys, one hundred percent. So when she wakes up the next morning in her bed beside a sleeping lump she knows is Dougie, she feels there is nothing at all odd or wrong about that. He’s just Dougie.
She scrunches up her nose at the sunlight that streams through the open blinds, sits up and rubs languidly at her eyes. She can hear his muffled words, can’t quite make out what, thinks its something along the lines of, ‘get off my leg, get off!’ shakes her head bemused and slips from between the sheets, pulling the straps of her pyjama top back into place as she creeps towards the ensuiet.
When she sheds her clothes she feels the slight chill to her skin and quickly turns the water on, stepping into the cubical the warm water beating down on her skin, awakening her senses. She works the strawberry shampoo through tangled curls, the suds washing away and down the drain when she tilts her head backwards and under the spray of water.
She can feel the dirt, the club, washing from her skin and when she gets out, wrapping a towel around herself she feels so much more comfy in her skin, cleaner, refreshed, ready for the world. She quickly towel dries her hair, dark spindly curls hanging limply around her face, cleans her teeth and returns to the bedroom, much, much fresher.
Dougie’s awake this time, sat upright against the headboard hair mussed and eyes scrunched slightly, peering at her. He mumbles a morning; words rough and sleep filled and watches with a smirk as she grabs hold of the towel and pulls tighter, stepping towards the bed.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before!” He wiggles his eyebrows and smirks at her.
“Yeah, in your dreams you big perv!” She replies with a giggle and roll of her eyes, sitting on the edge of her bed, rifling through the bedside draw. She feels Dougie’s fingers moving over her exposed skin, knows it’s just an instinctive gesture, fingertips soft and like a shadow catching the stray droplets of water that roll from the nape of her neck and along her spine, wiping them away.
“Every night baby!” He deadpans and she can feel his breath on the back of her neck as he smirks, almost wants to lean back into his touch and ask him to press harder, but he’s mumbling softly and leaving the bed and she’s shaking her head, a loud and obtrusive knock breaking the silence.
She sighs, grabs hold of her towel as she stands up making sure it’s securely in place and leaves Dougie in the bedroom rooting around on the floor for his clothes from the night before. She knows how the whole scene would look to an outsider, shuts the bedroom door and pulls open the front door.
When she sees who’s on the other side she almost blushes at her lack of clothing, cursing herself for not getting dressed straight away. She can feel the heat pooling in her cheeks, feels Tom’s eyes roaming the skin, watching the droplets of water fall from the ends of her hair and onto her collarbone. She tries to divert her focus away from the way that makes her feel, tries to concentrate on something other than the way his hazel eyes darken further, the way his cheeks pinken.
He coughs then as if finding his manners and snapping his head upwards, swallowing hard. He meets her eyes with a sheepish smile, a soft, ‘I need your help,’ falling from between his lips.
Before she can answer, before she thinks to pull her thoughts together Tom is stepping by her and into the hallway, lyric book in hand, his cheeks rosy and she’s not ultimately sure if it’s because of the slight breeze outside of the state of undresses he’s found her in. She’s not sure why she’d prefer it to be the latter.
“Have you seen Dougie, he’s not. . .” She hears Tom trail off and turns and follows his gaze, finds him staring at her bedroom door, obviously hearing movement from the other side.
“Oh, sorry is your date from last night here?” He stops and she stares, watching as he licks at his bottom lip, hears his voice break and she can’t explain just what she feels, just why there’s an hollow feeling in the centre of her chest.
“I can go, come back later.”
She’s not sure why the hurt in his voice bothers her so much, doesn’t know why the look in his eyes makes her skin tingle and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She’s not sure how he’s rendered her speechless like he has.
Her mouth opens and she wants to say, ‘no, don’t its only Dougie’ but she can’t find her voice. It’s then that the bedroom door opens and Dougie appears just in his boxers, hair tussled and scratching his stomach and she sees Tom’s eyes darken and feels like she needs to justify herself to him.
She can see what he’s thinking, sees it in his eyes and almost wants to say it’s not what you think, clichéd but so true, but she shouldn’t have to, need to. She wonders just how well he knows her and it annoys her that he’d think she’d do that with Dougie, she’d never, not with any of her band mates, her friends.
“S’up, Tom!” Dougie just nods, totally oblivious, features innocent and a picture of perfectness as he disappears into the kitchen. She swallows and can see the vein in Tom’s neck protruding, sees the way his jaw sets, the flicker of discomfort on pale flesh.
“We got drunk and fell asleep together.”
Even though it’s the complete truth it feels like a lie, feel like she’s done something wrong; voice a low murmur and an arm waved in Dougie’s general direction, the night still hazy.
“It’s none of my business.” Tom shakes his head; his tone is standoffish and clipped, his eyes not quite meeting her own. She feels the shiver jolt along her spine and doesn’t know why, just knows it’s a feeling she likes, that sets nerve endings on fire, head shaking those thoughts away.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll have a look over your lyrics, yeah.”
She’s walking away before he can answer, wet feet leaving marks on the floor.
::
She spends the weekend writing with the boys and it is while sprawled out on the music room floor with Tom that it all clicks together and Dougie’s words echo in her mind. She can feel the weight hanging over her, swinging back and forth, just waiting to crash into her, dragging her from her feet.
Tom watches her, chewing on the end of his biro as she scribbles down lyrics humming gently to herself before turning the book around so he can see what she’s written. He smiles as he looks over her words, adds some himself, repeating the process over and over again.
“Your date, what went wrong you seemed pretty excited about it.” He knows he shouldn’t pry but he can’t help himself from blurting it out, curiosity clawing under his skin.
He sees the taken aback look on her face and is about to make an apology for snooping but before he can she’s speaking and he’s listening intently, voice like velvet wrapping around him.
“I just realised he wasn’t the right guy for me!” She stands up and smiles, isn’t sure she wants to talk anymore about this. “You want another beer,” she gestures to the bottle by his wrist and watches him nod.
The rest of the weekend is spent watching TV, eating pizza and lounging around. All the awkwardness seems to have melted away. They all lounge around on her living room floor, drink beer and just giggle with one another as Harry recounts his latest date. She shares cigarettes with Dougie out on the patio, smiles when he wraps his arms around her and rests her head on his shoulder, he might look weedy but he’s comfortable.
When Dougie and Harry fall asleep on the sofa part way through the film they’re watching she catches Tom’s eyes and it doesn’t feel weird, not at all. At least that’s what she tells herself.
::
They get into the gruelling tour rehearsals first thing Monday morning, work their way through what’s going to work, what wont, what songs they want to include and what order they should be in. Danny can feel Tom’s gaze on her the whole time she strums her guitar, and bounces her head to the beat, giggling as Dougie rushes by her.
Her cheeks are hot, her skin sticky with sweat as they play though the set list once without stopping, getting a feel for how things are working, then talking over what needs to be changed later.
They spend the better part of the week in some grungy little studio rehearsing, spend the whole day Thursday travelling to their first venue, spend Friday running the set through and rehearsing some more, and by Saturday night are ready to show just what they can do!
Opening night goes with the usual hitches, unpredictable hitches. Broken guitar strings, Dougie’s stories and a fair few curses when fingers slip and miss notes, glances cast between. Danny always feels in her element when on stage, when playing, when singing, when entertaining a crowd.
She feels goosebumps on her arms, feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as her eyes narrow and she glances across the crowd, watching lips move, singing back, singing one of her songs. She looks towards Tom with a wide smile on her face, feels elated, savouring every second.
When they get off stage sweaty and flushes she feels like she’s walking on air. When Dougie suggests they go out to celebrate their first show the agreement with that idea is more than evident on everyone’s lips.
Once they get back to the hotel the first thing they do is go up to their room, hastily shower and arrange to meet in the bar and of course Danny’s the first one there, curls still a little wet on the end from the shower. She’s not particularly dressed up, casual and comfy but sort of elegant, legs crossed carefully as she chats to the blond barman, ordering herself a vodka and cranberry with a subtle flutter of her eyelashes.
“You just can’t help yourself, can’t resist flirting with the pretty boys.”
She jumps hearing Dougie’s voice, a smile evident in his words as he slides onto a stool beside her, flashing her that dirty and mischievous grin of his that has her giggling and ordering him a beer, swirling her straw around in her drink, ice clunking against the side of the glass.
“Oh, honey not feeling left out, are you?” She coos with a giggle and pats his cheek lightly, bracelets jingling around her wrist. “I’m just getting myself ready for a night out, dancing and alcohol.” She sighs happily, eyes glistening with promise as she sweeps dark curls out of her eyes.
Dougie just grins.
::
She doesn’t really remember his name, but then again it doesn’t really matter too much, names are overrated. He’s a good kisser and somewhere in the back of her alcohol clouded mind that’s all that really counts, it shouldn’t be, but it is.
The groan that rumbles from between her lips is entirely surprising, feels his hand close around her hip, soft fingertips stroking the skin below her top as her lips part and his tongue meets her own. She can taste the beer, the shots they had and the cigarettes they came outside to smoke, closes her eyes and groans again, sinking against him.
She feels his muscles taut under the palm of her hand and his skin warm, feels the goose bumps spilling over her skin and her fingers move curling around his shoulders as she arches up into him, not really minding when he backs her against the slightly mossy wall, the bricks cold against her back.
It’s when his arms tighten their grip that she feels her head spin, feels herself sobering up, and knows just how wrong this is. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, blue eyes flicker when their lips part, heavy breaths in the cold air creating a cloud in the atmosphere that curls around them. He nuzzles against her neck, lips wet as they graze the skin his hands staying on her waist, fingers continuing to caress the warm skin.
There’s a part of her, a small part that wants to curl her fingers around his own and drag him towards one of the taxis that are lined up in front of the club, knows she can’t, she won’t. She pulls her body away completely and it’s in a moment of sanity that she sees him, sees him watching them, eyes dark and features creased into a furious frown, that gaping hole is back aching in her chest, the guilt bubbling in her stomach.
His blond hair shines under the street lights, the strands glinting as he shakes his head and turns his back to them. The shivers that run through the core of her body are completely disturbing, the look in his eyes, the disgust and anger suddenly making her feel much sober, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
She feels the eyes of the man whose name she’s yet to remember staring at her with a crook of his eyebrows, can’t form words, can’t feel anything other than guilt. It’s a feeling that leaves her hollow and confused because really she’s done nothing wrong.
“Hey, where are you going?”
He’s speaking, calling after her, but she’s shaking her head, dark curls falling across her face as she stumbles away from him, Tom the sole thought on her mind.
“I can’t. I can’t do this!”
The look on Tom’s face, the streaking of his dark eyes with diluted disgust makes her heart drop and her head hang. She doesn’t know why it’s so important she just knows she needs to speak to him, explain this to him.