Read my mind | Van McCann

6.

They remain in touch. After the third time a conversation becomes phone sex, it's clear that Van isn't the only one having trouble letting go. (They both end up in Cheshire during Christmas and he sneaks into her room at night, breaking their holiday rule.)

It isn't only him that's seeing it either. After almost four years of this arrangement, the people in Van's life are finally catching on.

Bernie drops by one weekend. He tries to be casual but Bernie isn't ever the kind to open up, so when he starts telling Van about his ex-girlfriend before Mary, it's clear that Bernie has an inkling of what's going on.

And Van gets it. He understands how it must look. He even appreciates the concern. But as similar as they may be, Van is not his father. Hell, if Van had been Bernie, he probably would have left with the ex-girlfriend. Either way, Van isn't waiting. If he had any real desire to be with anyone else, he would be. And when Y/N finally moves on (because she will, she always does), he'll continue to live his life.

When she calls him and invites him out in London with her for the first time he doesn't overthink or hope.

"There's a party I need to go to, a work thing really, and I was thinking maybe you'd like to come? You don't have to, I know parties aren't really your thing, but I need a date and I haven't seen you in a while so I thought it might be nice."

She's breaking their long-established holding pattern. He can hear the nervousness in her voice. He's nervous too.

So he gets the girl in the apartment downstairs to trim his hair, grabs some of his work, packs his one suit, tells the guys that he'll be back in a few days, and ignores the looks the bandmates give him.

Van has never actually been to Y/N's apartment - never been to visit her anywhere other than the childhood home in Cheshire or his apartment in London. He's meant to be separate from this life; that's the point.

He barely has enough time to walk through the door before she's jumping him, lips on his, hands grabbing at the fly of his pants, pulling it down while dragging him to bed. It's quick and it's good because it's always good and, shit, it doesn't make it any easier when she's fucking addicting.

"Hi," she says, rolling over.

"You always give the best greetings," he replies, adjusting his pants and sitting up. He looks around the apartment for the first time. It's a studio, a nice one - nicer than any he's ever lived in. It's also fairly barren. "You just move in?"

She blushes. "Actually, this is my fourth apartment since I moved here. I started off bigger but it seemed silly since I barely lived in them, so they just kept getting smaller. Made more sense to keep most of my stuff at Mum's a few miles away."

He nods. Whenever he thought about Y/N's apartment he'd come up blank. Their roles are reversed now; Van is the stable one living in one place, Y/N the nomad traveling the world. A furnished apartment just doesn't suit her lifestyle.

It's already fairly late so they get takeout and find a movie on TV, eating, watching and laughing on Y/N's bed. She touches him often, pets his hair, scratches at his stubble, kisses any area she touches. He imagines this happening more often, happening every night.

It's strange, sleeping in a different bed, different from his apartment or the one he sleeps in at Cheshire. "Been a while since I've slept in a bed that wasn't mine," he says when they lay down to sleep.

There's an awkward silence. "So you bring all the other ladies home with you? I hope you wash your sheets before you let me in them."

It's somehow a conversation they've avoided since this whole arrangement started. He knows from the few holidays they've gone to at the same time that Y/N has dated off and on - "nothing serious," she'd always say, avoiding his eyes every time.