The van smelled like cigarettes, vapes, weed, and Rodrick’s cologne — a weird mix, but one you’d gotten used to over the past few months. You weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Just spending time the way you always did: tangled up in each other in the back of his van, kissing slow, easy — familiar. Comfortable.

Rodrick’s hand was in your hair, the other anchored at your hip, pulling you closer like you could fall right through him if he let go.

Then the van door slammed open.

“Rodrick?” Greg’s voice cracked halfway through the name. You both froze.

Rodrick pulled back with a sharp intake of breath, eyes darting toward the now open door — and there stood Greg, slack-jawed and horrified, with Rowley peeking over his shoulder, looking like someone had just hit pause on his brain.

“Are you—wait, are you making out with a girl in your van?” Greg blurted, voice rising an octave.

Rodrick’s whole body jerked like he’d been electrocuted, he scrambled to sit up straighter, running a hand through his hair with a muttered curse. “GREG—oh my god—can you not? Why didn’t you knock?!”

You shifted beside him quietly, sitting upright, your heart thudding in your chest as the shock settled in. Rodrick’s knee brushed yours. He didn’t let go of your hand.

Greg gawked at the sight of you both. “Wait. You’re like… dating? Since when?”

Rodrick huffed, cheeks flushed a deep red. “A couple months, okay?! And if you tell Mom and Dad, I swear to god—”

Greg blinked, stunned into silence. Rowley’s mouth was still open like he wanted to say something but forgot how words worked.

He looked between the two of you, his eyes lingering on the way Rodrick’s fingers were still locked around yours. “So you really like her?”

Rodrick’s face softened just a little. His voice dropped, quieter. “Yeah. I do. So just—keep it to yourself, alright? Please?”

Greg was quiet for a moment, processing. Then: “I always thought you were bad with girls. Turns out you do have game.”

Rodrick groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Shut up.”

Rodrick turned to you for a second, brows furrowed with worry, but your calm presence — the way you sat there steady, solid, not pulling away — seemed to settle him. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. He still looked nervous, but a little less alone.

Greg nudged Rowley, who was still frozen. “C’mon, dude. Let’s leave them alone before Rodrick explodes or something.”

As the van door slid shut again, Rodrick let out a long breath and leaned his head back against the seat. “Well… that was literally my worst nightmare.”