Bandom One-shots book 3

Birthday Chaos! (Van Roth/Eddie Van Halen x David Lee Roth)

The first thing I noticed when Dave stepped into the room was that he was already mid-dance move. Not walking, not casually entering—nope, full-on twirl, arms out like some rock 'n' roll ballerina. "Edward!" he exclaimed, dragging my name out in that theatrical way of his, like he was addressing a sold-out crowd. "What's my favorite guitarist up to this fine evening?"

I didn't even look up from my guitar, already grinning. "Trying to tune this thing, but thanks to you, I just lost my focus."

Dave flopped onto the couch dramatically, his long legs sprawling out like he owned the place. "You're welcome. Don't say I never bring excitement to your life."

Excitement. Yeah, that was one word for it. Being around Dave was like trying to keep your balance on a runaway rollercoaster. You never quite knew where you'd end up, but you could bet it was going to be one hell of a ride.

"Come on, Eddie," he said, tossing a pillow at me. "Put that thing down for a second. Live a little!"

I caught the pillow mid-air and set my guitar aside, already anticipating trouble. "What kind of 'living' are we talking about?"

Dave's grin widened, and that mischievous glint in his eyes told me I was in for it. "I'm glad you asked," he said, leaping to his feet. "We're gonna see if your tiny little kitchen can handle my culinary genius."

I blinked. "Culinary genius? You can't even make toast without setting off the smoke alarm."

"Details, Edward, details!" He was already halfway to the kitchen, and I had no choice but to follow him.

Fifteen minutes later, the "culinary masterpiece" turned out to be a haphazard attempt at making pancakes. Except Dave insisted on flipping them mid-air like a circus act, which meant most of them ended up stuck to the ceiling.

"Dave, you're supposed to catch them!" I said, laughing so hard my stomach hurt.

"I'm catching the vibe, Eddie!" he shot back, twirling the spatula like it was a mic stand. "And that's what matters."

He handed me a plate with the least-mangled pancake of the batch, then flopped onto the counter beside me, legs swinging. We ate in companionable silence for about two seconds before he smeared syrup on my cheek just to see my reaction.

"Really?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Absolutely," he said, completely unrepentant.

I retaliated by flicking some flour at him, and before I knew it, we were in an all-out food fight. By the time we called a truce, the kitchen looked like a sugar bomb had gone off.

Later, we collapsed on the couch, still laughing and covered in flour, syrup, and who knows what else. Dave had this way of making the simplest moments feel like the best damn party you'd ever been to.

"You're a bad influence," I said, leaning back against the cushions.

"And you love it," he said, tossing an arm around my shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I didn't argue, because he was right. I did love it—love him, if I was honest with myself. The way he could turn a boring evening into an unforgettable memory, the way he could make me laugh when I didn't even feel like smiling.

"You know," he said, his voice softer now, "this might've been the best pancake disaster I've ever had."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "You say that like it's a normal thing for you."

"With you, Eddie?" He leaned in closer, his nose brushing mine. "Anything feels normal."

My heart skipped a beat, and before I could think too much about it, I closed the gap between us. The kiss was warm and sweet, probably from the syrup, and it left me feeling dizzy in the best way.

"Happy early birthday, by the way," he whispered when we finally pulled apart.

I smiled, resting my forehead against his. "I think this might be my favorite one yet."

~Birthday Chaos!~