Boys of Summer
I Could Get Used to This
Harry/Danny's Apartment, London, UK
[font color="6dd888"] June 26th
[font color="ff9fc9"] 11:29 PM
DANI'S POV
I smiled as I sat on the couch, which reeked of an unidentifiable odor, and watched as Harry and Tom wrestled to solve some obscure conflict. Danny sat in the loveseat perpendicular to me, laugh at his friends. He glanced over at me, "Having fun, Dans?" I smirked, "You guys are entertaining, that's for sure."
An agreement had been reached over dinner, after the whole 'I didn't fly' episode in the car. I was, henceforth, known as 'Dans' to the McFly boys. Not that going from 'Dani' to 'Dans' is too much of a stretch. A lot of people call me 'Dans,' especially if they know someone named Danny.
"Hey Yank," Dougie called from the kitchen, "You drink?" I sighed; Dougie had suggested calling me 'Yank' instead of 'Dans' to "avoid [font color="6dd888"] any confusion." Harry promptly smacked him upside the head, followed by a kick in the shin from Tom. It doesn't make anything better that, when I was a toddler, my mom's nickname for me was 'Dani Doodle.' She used to sing 'Dani Doodle went to town' to try and calm me down when I got upset.
Dougie, on the other hand, decided he loved the idea and now refuses to call me by any other name. Danny offered to beat him up, if it offended me, but I didn't care much. At least, at first I didn't.
The offer to drink, though, sounded strangely like a challenge that, without Harry's objection, I could not deny. I, admittedly, don't like beer too much. I think it tastes bad and smells worse. But I've had it and I can bear it, so it shouldn't be too terrible.
"Yeah," I responded, receiving a raised eyebrow from Danny. "What," I asked innocently. "Nothing, you just don't seem like the kind of girl who would like beer." "What kind of drink do I seem like I'd like, then," I asked, amused. Danny studied me for a moment, "Long Island Ice Tea." My jaw dropped, "That is a sweet talent."
Danny shrugged and smiled bashfully as he accepted the beer from Dougie, clinking it against mine and Dougie's, "Cheers, then, to my new roommate." "Cheers," I muttered to myself, trying to smile as I raised the bottle to my lips, taking a long drink from it. I flinched when the beer, which tasted bitter, sloshed into my mouth and slid down my throat.
But, painfully aware of Dougie's eyes on me, I masked my slight disgust for the drink; I put it on the table after my partial-gulp, smirking proudly. I don't know why I'm so pleased; I've had a beer before and I really don't care what Dougie thinks of me. Nothing too special is happening, save the fact that Harry is now sitting on Tom's head.
Harry was a little sweaty and breathing deeply as he surveyed Danny, Dougie, and I. He nodded towards my beer, "When did you start drinking, Dans?" "About a year ago; remember when I called you and just screamed at the phone?" "Yeah. You were drunk," Harry questioned, amazed as Tom flailed underneath him, "I thought you were just really excited." "Nope, drunk-dialing."
Harry nodded in understanding, which surprised me. I figured he'd flip because I've been drinking, and I didn't wait for him to be around when I had my first drink like I promised him I would. He's protective about the most random things, with his siblings too. But, now that I think about it, he never really cared about alcohol like my parents cared. Go figure.
Harry nodded again as he reached for his bottle, letting Tom slip out from under him in the process. "God, your arse smells," Tom complained, catching the beer clumsily that Danny threw to him.
I smirked as Harry fell into his seat next to me, separating Dougie and I as my cousin wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders. Tom sat down next to Danny and, not quite sure I wanted to establish the conversation, I reached for my beer, sipping it and acclimating myself to the taste.
The silence was finally broken by Dougie with what I'm hoping is an inside joke and not just an example of what he thinks about, "Cowcum." "Ew, Dougie, will you ever stop with that," Tom groaned as Harry slapped the bassist in the chest.
Danny, on the other hand, had a much different reaction than the disgust that the three of us were feeling. He fell onto the ground, laughing hysterically as he clutched his stomach, "Dougie, you are the most random cracker in London!" Danny's empty beer bottle fell off the couch after him, hitting him soundly on the forehead. Well, someone doesn't hold their liquor well.
Harry/Danny's Apartment, London, UK
[font color="6dd888"] June 27th
[font color="ff9fc9"] 1:47 AM
DANI'S POV
I laughed as Tom jumped up and down, playing an overly-dramatic air-guitar. "And then Dougie was like, 'Woah! You play guitar good!'" The story, despite its terrible punch line, made the four of us laugh quite unreasonably hard.
The table, which Tom gripped when he stumbled after he stopped jumping, shook in front of me, and made the beer bottles set on top of it clink together, reminding me of Danny's toast. Danny was sitting back in his seat, and was just finished his sixth beer. I, personally, was only halfway through my third beer; Harry was finished four, Tom had been halfway through his fifth beer when he fell down on the ground, and Dougie was done six before he almost passed out on the other side of the couch.
Tom laughed as he realized that he fell to the ground, hitting his hand on the coffee table when he tried to get up. Danny, Harry, and I started to laugh at him and his feeble attempt to stand up. Harry stood, stumbling towards his band mate as a silence fell once again over the apartment, the first since Dougie's 'cowcum' episode.
This time, though, I felt courageous, and drunk, enough to break the silence and ask a question that had been bothering me. "Hey, do you all know what that mob at the airport was about? I couldn't see what was going on."
Danny laughed, "Why, me dear Dans, those were the famous McFly fan girls." I rolled my eyes, punching Danny in the arm, "Seriously. It's been bothering me that I don't know why they were there."
"I am serious," Danny insisted, slurring his words. He sipped his beer bottle, "We've got fan girls! Crazy fan girls! And they always want an autograph!" "Psh, riiight you drunken crazy man," I replied, rolling my eyes as I finished my third beer, interested at how a halo seemed to float over Danny.
"You don't believe me, then," Danny asked, incredulously. I shook my head, causing Danny to whine, "Harry, tell her!" "What," Harry asked, raising his head off of the ground, where he'd fallen when he couldn't help Tom up.
"Tell her about the fan girls! She won't believe me!" "Mate," Harry said, obviously exasperated, "I've been trying to tell her about the fan girls for the past three years, you think she'll believe me now?" "Tom," Danny asked. But there was no response; Tom was either passed out or didn't feel like responding.
"Fine, prove it myself," Danny muttered as he stood, making his way down the hall towards his room. He stumbled back, collapsing next to me in Harry's seat and shoving his lap top onto my lap. "Here; this is a fan site! Here, Frank Skinner, we talked about our fans a bunch with him, didn't we boys?"
Danny only received a muffled grunt from Dougie, which surprised me because, from the way he fell onto Danny's shoulder when he sat down, I assumed Dougie had passed out. "Right then," Danny slurred, "You watch that."
Danny stood, allowing Dougie to fall into my lap as the boys came out and sat on the couches. I petted Dougie's head as I watched the interview, indiscriminate about whose head I was petting. I always pet people, its habit. Never mind that I'm really not liking the bloke whom I'm petting.
Danny fell into the writhing, wrestling mass of bodies that, when separated, would be Tom and Harry as I sat on the couch, trying desperately to watch the interview. But I could only gather a few, non-descript details. The fans make banners that make them seem like porn stars. Dougie owns a lot of porn and doesn't need to leave the house. Danny has a funny accent.
But beer has always made me unreasonably tired, and as I dropped the beer and allowed my head to fall back as I passed out, I realized the unidentifiable odor. It was a mix of Harry's cologne, Danny's shampoo (which was quite potent) and beer.
Harry/Danny's Apartment, London, UK
[font color="6dd888"] June 27th
[font color="ff9fc9"] 9:54 AM
DANNY'S POV
I yawned as I pushed myself up, my eyes squinting as they took in the sights of my flat's living room, full of friends, beer bottles, and my computer, the last of which was lying open on the ground in front of Dans. I groaned as I leaned forward from the loveseat to close it.
Unfortunately, I was unable to stop myself, still disoriented, and fell onto the ground, banging my head against my laptop. I closed my eyes to block out the sunlight that they were exposed to at this angle, opening them again when I felt someone poke me in the forehead.
Dougie raised an eyebrow at me inquisitively, and I moaned as I felt the oncoming of what would be a serial hangover. "Dougie, did you put something in those beers last night?" Dougie smirked blissfully, "I added something or another."
With that said, he let his head fall back into Dani's lap, still smiling as he tried to fall back asleep. I rolled my eyes at his happiness and, deciding against trying to stand, crawled to the kitchen for the ibuprofen.
After splashing some water on my face, I returned to the living room to bring some pain-killers to Dougie. It was only when he was sipping his water that I noticed something odd about the picture, "Dougie, did you sleep in Dans' lap?"
Dougie looked at me like I was crackers before looking up further to see Dans' placid face, calm with sleep. His smirk fell as he spit out his water and one of his ibuprofen. The water, which landed all over Dani, caused her to jump and wake up.
She pushed Dougie off of her, looking startled as she realized that he'd been laying on her. "Go on, then, not my fault I passed out like that," Dougie defended. Dani looked down at him incredulously, wiping some of the dripping water from her chin before turning her gaze to me.
Feeling quite helpless, I opened the bottle of painkillers, smiling and trying to be as charming as possible, "Ibuprofen?" She glared at me for not offering a defense, but accepted the pills and, stealing Dougie's water, swallowed them.
"Mate, can I get another one of them," Dougie asked, leaning on one of his elbows as he grabbed the bottle. "Well, I can't stop you now can I," I questioned. Dougie smirked as he took another, grimacing, "Do you really have to drink all the water, Dans?"
Dani paused, the glass still touched to her lips as she thought over what Dougie had said, her mind no doubt working a little slower because of the headache. Then, looking just as relaxed as she had when she'd been sleeping, she poured the last bit of water onto Dougie's head.
"Hey," he protested, trying to dive out of the way, but only hitting the legs of the coffee table. "I'm going to go sleep in Harry's room for a few more hours," Dani said, smiling briskly and waving me off as she headed down the hall, turning into my room.
A moment later, she walked out and crossed the hall, attempting to tip-toe for whatever reason, "Sorry about that." "Not a problem," I replied, "Have a nice nap." She nodded as she slipped into Harry's room, shutting the door behind her.
"Well, she's a beast, isn't she," Dougie asked from his spot on the ground, shaking water droplets from his hair. "Oh, come on, like you couldn't have gotten up and gotten your own water," I asked, standing and moving towards my band mates, nudging them with my shoe.
I could feel Dougie's eyes boring into me from behind, and when I turned back to him, unsuccessful at my attempt to waking our friends, his jaw had dropped, "You fancy her, don't you?"
"I fancy any girl who isn't a dimwit," I defended, picking up the beer bottles and throwing them in the recycling by the door. "It's hopeless, mate," Dougie said, shaking his head as he grabbed my laptop, opening it up and typing something in, "You know what Harry said; Dani is off limits."
"I never said I was gonna do anything, you dingbat," I responded, wishing I could smack him in the head. But, with the hangover, it would be too cruel for even me to do. "Well, you do usually try to hit on 'em a little."
"I don't," I defended, going into the kitchen so Harry wouldn't overhear and sitting on the table. "You've snogged more girls than anyone else by miles, except for maybe Harry," Dougie responded, sitting in the chair to my side and playing with the salt shaker.
"Doesn't mean I hit on all the girls I think fit," I countered, "You know full well there are many girls I think are too gorgeous to talk to." "And Dani is one of them," Dougie questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Dani," I said, grabbing a can of pop from the counter, "Is not someone I will fancy for long. You'll see, nothing will come of this." Dougie shook his head, taking a sip of the pop before I drank any of it, "You really do fancy every girl you meet, don't you?"
"And many that I don't," I said, smiling as I thought of the many crushes that I'd had and hadn't ever talked to, Joss Stone being one of them. "You're sick," Dougie said, cracking his neck. I laughed at him, "And what was that? Charming?"
[font color="6dd888"] June 26th
[font color="ff9fc9"] 11:29 PM
DANI'S POV
I smiled as I sat on the couch, which reeked of an unidentifiable odor, and watched as Harry and Tom wrestled to solve some obscure conflict. Danny sat in the loveseat perpendicular to me, laugh at his friends. He glanced over at me, "Having fun, Dans?" I smirked, "You guys are entertaining, that's for sure."
An agreement had been reached over dinner, after the whole 'I didn't fly' episode in the car. I was, henceforth, known as 'Dans' to the McFly boys. Not that going from 'Dani' to 'Dans' is too much of a stretch. A lot of people call me 'Dans,' especially if they know someone named Danny.
"Hey Yank," Dougie called from the kitchen, "You drink?" I sighed; Dougie had suggested calling me 'Yank' instead of 'Dans' to "avoid [font color="6dd888"] any confusion." Harry promptly smacked him upside the head, followed by a kick in the shin from Tom. It doesn't make anything better that, when I was a toddler, my mom's nickname for me was 'Dani Doodle.' She used to sing 'Dani Doodle went to town' to try and calm me down when I got upset.
Dougie, on the other hand, decided he loved the idea and now refuses to call me by any other name. Danny offered to beat him up, if it offended me, but I didn't care much. At least, at first I didn't.
The offer to drink, though, sounded strangely like a challenge that, without Harry's objection, I could not deny. I, admittedly, don't like beer too much. I think it tastes bad and smells worse. But I've had it and I can bear it, so it shouldn't be too terrible.
"Yeah," I responded, receiving a raised eyebrow from Danny. "What," I asked innocently. "Nothing, you just don't seem like the kind of girl who would like beer." "What kind of drink do I seem like I'd like, then," I asked, amused. Danny studied me for a moment, "Long Island Ice Tea." My jaw dropped, "That is a sweet talent."
Danny shrugged and smiled bashfully as he accepted the beer from Dougie, clinking it against mine and Dougie's, "Cheers, then, to my new roommate." "Cheers," I muttered to myself, trying to smile as I raised the bottle to my lips, taking a long drink from it. I flinched when the beer, which tasted bitter, sloshed into my mouth and slid down my throat.
But, painfully aware of Dougie's eyes on me, I masked my slight disgust for the drink; I put it on the table after my partial-gulp, smirking proudly. I don't know why I'm so pleased; I've had a beer before and I really don't care what Dougie thinks of me. Nothing too special is happening, save the fact that Harry is now sitting on Tom's head.
Harry was a little sweaty and breathing deeply as he surveyed Danny, Dougie, and I. He nodded towards my beer, "When did you start drinking, Dans?" "About a year ago; remember when I called you and just screamed at the phone?" "Yeah. You were drunk," Harry questioned, amazed as Tom flailed underneath him, "I thought you were just really excited." "Nope, drunk-dialing."
Harry nodded in understanding, which surprised me. I figured he'd flip because I've been drinking, and I didn't wait for him to be around when I had my first drink like I promised him I would. He's protective about the most random things, with his siblings too. But, now that I think about it, he never really cared about alcohol like my parents cared. Go figure.
Harry nodded again as he reached for his bottle, letting Tom slip out from under him in the process. "God, your arse smells," Tom complained, catching the beer clumsily that Danny threw to him.
I smirked as Harry fell into his seat next to me, separating Dougie and I as my cousin wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders. Tom sat down next to Danny and, not quite sure I wanted to establish the conversation, I reached for my beer, sipping it and acclimating myself to the taste.
The silence was finally broken by Dougie with what I'm hoping is an inside joke and not just an example of what he thinks about, "Cowcum." "Ew, Dougie, will you ever stop with that," Tom groaned as Harry slapped the bassist in the chest.
Danny, on the other hand, had a much different reaction than the disgust that the three of us were feeling. He fell onto the ground, laughing hysterically as he clutched his stomach, "Dougie, you are the most random cracker in London!" Danny's empty beer bottle fell off the couch after him, hitting him soundly on the forehead. Well, someone doesn't hold their liquor well.
Harry/Danny's Apartment, London, UK
[font color="6dd888"] June 27th
[font color="ff9fc9"] 1:47 AM
DANI'S POV
I laughed as Tom jumped up and down, playing an overly-dramatic air-guitar. "And then Dougie was like, 'Woah! You play guitar good!'" The story, despite its terrible punch line, made the four of us laugh quite unreasonably hard.
The table, which Tom gripped when he stumbled after he stopped jumping, shook in front of me, and made the beer bottles set on top of it clink together, reminding me of Danny's toast. Danny was sitting back in his seat, and was just finished his sixth beer. I, personally, was only halfway through my third beer; Harry was finished four, Tom had been halfway through his fifth beer when he fell down on the ground, and Dougie was done six before he almost passed out on the other side of the couch.
Tom laughed as he realized that he fell to the ground, hitting his hand on the coffee table when he tried to get up. Danny, Harry, and I started to laugh at him and his feeble attempt to stand up. Harry stood, stumbling towards his band mate as a silence fell once again over the apartment, the first since Dougie's 'cowcum' episode.
This time, though, I felt courageous, and drunk, enough to break the silence and ask a question that had been bothering me. "Hey, do you all know what that mob at the airport was about? I couldn't see what was going on."
Danny laughed, "Why, me dear Dans, those were the famous McFly fan girls." I rolled my eyes, punching Danny in the arm, "Seriously. It's been bothering me that I don't know why they were there."
"I am serious," Danny insisted, slurring his words. He sipped his beer bottle, "We've got fan girls! Crazy fan girls! And they always want an autograph!" "Psh, riiight you drunken crazy man," I replied, rolling my eyes as I finished my third beer, interested at how a halo seemed to float over Danny.
"You don't believe me, then," Danny asked, incredulously. I shook my head, causing Danny to whine, "Harry, tell her!" "What," Harry asked, raising his head off of the ground, where he'd fallen when he couldn't help Tom up.
"Tell her about the fan girls! She won't believe me!" "Mate," Harry said, obviously exasperated, "I've been trying to tell her about the fan girls for the past three years, you think she'll believe me now?" "Tom," Danny asked. But there was no response; Tom was either passed out or didn't feel like responding.
"Fine, prove it myself," Danny muttered as he stood, making his way down the hall towards his room. He stumbled back, collapsing next to me in Harry's seat and shoving his lap top onto my lap. "Here; this is a fan site! Here, Frank Skinner, we talked about our fans a bunch with him, didn't we boys?"
Danny only received a muffled grunt from Dougie, which surprised me because, from the way he fell onto Danny's shoulder when he sat down, I assumed Dougie had passed out. "Right then," Danny slurred, "You watch that."
Danny stood, allowing Dougie to fall into my lap as the boys came out and sat on the couches. I petted Dougie's head as I watched the interview, indiscriminate about whose head I was petting. I always pet people, its habit. Never mind that I'm really not liking the bloke whom I'm petting.
Danny fell into the writhing, wrestling mass of bodies that, when separated, would be Tom and Harry as I sat on the couch, trying desperately to watch the interview. But I could only gather a few, non-descript details. The fans make banners that make them seem like porn stars. Dougie owns a lot of porn and doesn't need to leave the house. Danny has a funny accent.
But beer has always made me unreasonably tired, and as I dropped the beer and allowed my head to fall back as I passed out, I realized the unidentifiable odor. It was a mix of Harry's cologne, Danny's shampoo (which was quite potent) and beer.
Harry/Danny's Apartment, London, UK
[font color="6dd888"] June 27th
[font color="ff9fc9"] 9:54 AM
DANNY'S POV
I yawned as I pushed myself up, my eyes squinting as they took in the sights of my flat's living room, full of friends, beer bottles, and my computer, the last of which was lying open on the ground in front of Dans. I groaned as I leaned forward from the loveseat to close it.
Unfortunately, I was unable to stop myself, still disoriented, and fell onto the ground, banging my head against my laptop. I closed my eyes to block out the sunlight that they were exposed to at this angle, opening them again when I felt someone poke me in the forehead.
Dougie raised an eyebrow at me inquisitively, and I moaned as I felt the oncoming of what would be a serial hangover. "Dougie, did you put something in those beers last night?" Dougie smirked blissfully, "I added something or another."
With that said, he let his head fall back into Dani's lap, still smiling as he tried to fall back asleep. I rolled my eyes at his happiness and, deciding against trying to stand, crawled to the kitchen for the ibuprofen.
After splashing some water on my face, I returned to the living room to bring some pain-killers to Dougie. It was only when he was sipping his water that I noticed something odd about the picture, "Dougie, did you sleep in Dans' lap?"
Dougie looked at me like I was crackers before looking up further to see Dans' placid face, calm with sleep. His smirk fell as he spit out his water and one of his ibuprofen. The water, which landed all over Dani, caused her to jump and wake up.
She pushed Dougie off of her, looking startled as she realized that he'd been laying on her. "Go on, then, not my fault I passed out like that," Dougie defended. Dani looked down at him incredulously, wiping some of the dripping water from her chin before turning her gaze to me.
Feeling quite helpless, I opened the bottle of painkillers, smiling and trying to be as charming as possible, "Ibuprofen?" She glared at me for not offering a defense, but accepted the pills and, stealing Dougie's water, swallowed them.
"Mate, can I get another one of them," Dougie asked, leaning on one of his elbows as he grabbed the bottle. "Well, I can't stop you now can I," I questioned. Dougie smirked as he took another, grimacing, "Do you really have to drink all the water, Dans?"
Dani paused, the glass still touched to her lips as she thought over what Dougie had said, her mind no doubt working a little slower because of the headache. Then, looking just as relaxed as she had when she'd been sleeping, she poured the last bit of water onto Dougie's head.
"Hey," he protested, trying to dive out of the way, but only hitting the legs of the coffee table. "I'm going to go sleep in Harry's room for a few more hours," Dani said, smiling briskly and waving me off as she headed down the hall, turning into my room.
A moment later, she walked out and crossed the hall, attempting to tip-toe for whatever reason, "Sorry about that." "Not a problem," I replied, "Have a nice nap." She nodded as she slipped into Harry's room, shutting the door behind her.
"Well, she's a beast, isn't she," Dougie asked from his spot on the ground, shaking water droplets from his hair. "Oh, come on, like you couldn't have gotten up and gotten your own water," I asked, standing and moving towards my band mates, nudging them with my shoe.
I could feel Dougie's eyes boring into me from behind, and when I turned back to him, unsuccessful at my attempt to waking our friends, his jaw had dropped, "You fancy her, don't you?"
"I fancy any girl who isn't a dimwit," I defended, picking up the beer bottles and throwing them in the recycling by the door. "It's hopeless, mate," Dougie said, shaking his head as he grabbed my laptop, opening it up and typing something in, "You know what Harry said; Dani is off limits."
"I never said I was gonna do anything, you dingbat," I responded, wishing I could smack him in the head. But, with the hangover, it would be too cruel for even me to do. "Well, you do usually try to hit on 'em a little."
"I don't," I defended, going into the kitchen so Harry wouldn't overhear and sitting on the table. "You've snogged more girls than anyone else by miles, except for maybe Harry," Dougie responded, sitting in the chair to my side and playing with the salt shaker.
"Doesn't mean I hit on all the girls I think fit," I countered, "You know full well there are many girls I think are too gorgeous to talk to." "And Dani is one of them," Dougie questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Dani," I said, grabbing a can of pop from the counter, "Is not someone I will fancy for long. You'll see, nothing will come of this." Dougie shook his head, taking a sip of the pop before I drank any of it, "You really do fancy every girl you meet, don't you?"
"And many that I don't," I said, smiling as I thought of the many crushes that I'd had and hadn't ever talked to, Joss Stone being one of them. "You're sick," Dougie said, cracking his neck. I laughed at him, "And what was that? Charming?"