AT LEAST IT'S ALL ABOUT YOU // Dream X Reader

25

The L.A show was just like all the others - a smashing success. Every song that was played, the crowd cheered and sang along - they knew all the words. Of course, so did you, and you sang them loud from your seat in the scaffolding until the show was over and your throat hurt. You didn't mind too much though, because it was the good kind of hurt - the kind that just meant you had had a good time. 

Still, you stopped at the bus for a glass of water before heading back outside to join Clay on top of the Dream Team bus. It was like a routine now - after the show you would make you way up the ladder to sit next to him and dangle your feet over the parking lot. Tonight was no different, and Clay was already up there when you arrived.

"Heyo." He greeted, smiling as you took your place next to him. 

"Hey." You returned, noticing the absence of a joint in Clay's hand. "Not smoking tonight?"

"Not tonight." Clay replied, leaning back on his elbows. "Why?" He cocked his head. "Hoping I was going to shotgun you again?"

You felt your face heat up at the mere mention of last time you had sat up here with him - the ghost of his lips over yours, his hand holding your jaw in place. Still, you forced the rush of nerves back down - two could play at that game. 

"Maybe." You said, shrugging. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Clay stop for a second to glance at you, those calculating wheels turning in his head. He huffed out a small laugh, nodding to himself as he gazed out over the parking lot. You followed his gaze, watching the sun sink below the horizon slowly. 

A moment passed before Clay spoke again. 

"Remember that song I was writing?"

You turned to look at him - his figure outlined against the slowly darkening sky. He was looking up at the sky, watching as the stars slowly started to peek through. 

"The one you said you wanted to fall in love for?" You asked, tipping your head back to watch the sky as well. 

Clay smiled. "Yeah." He said. 

"What about it?" You asked. 

He looked over to you, a soft sort of look in his eyes (they looked blue now, reflecting off the dying sun). "I think I've got it. At least, some of it."

"That's great." You said. "Can I hear it?"

"Well, I don't exactly have a melody yet." Clay said. "But, you can read what I have so far if you want." He reached backwards, grabbing that beat up notebook he always brought up here with him and held it out to you. 

You took it, flipping through the wrinkled pages until you came to the last entry - a verse and a chorus to a song. Clay's handwriting was a little hard to read, but as your eyes scanned over the page you could feel your face begin to heat up again. The moments he described in the song were some of your memories - nights on the rooftop of this very bus, the fourth of July, pancakes and parties and concerts. The object of his affection was described as well - the hair, the eyes, the laugh - it all matched perfectly. 

You looked up from the notebook to meet Clay's eyes. "This is all about me?"

"Yeah." Clay breathed. "I figured you would want to know."

You looked back down at the notebook, a smile playing on your lips. "Clay, I have something to tell you."'

His lips twitched downward for a second, but you ignored it, pulling out your phone and navigated to the song, handing it to him without saying anything. He glanced up at you, obviously confused, but you just nodded at the phone, indicating that he should read. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched Clay read, the downward twitch in the corner of his mouth slowly righting itself until he was smiling again, staring down at the phone in his hand.

Eventually, he tore his eyes away from the screen to look up at you. "You wrote this?"

"Yeah." You said. 

"It's all about me."  Clay said, that soft look coming over his eyes again. 

"Yeah, it is." You said softly, just looking at him. 

Clay set your phone down, getting up off his elbows and leaning closer to you, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw, just like he had when he had leaned in to shotgun you. A shiver ran up your spine as he brushed a thumb over your cheek, his eyes searching your in silent question. 

"Just kiss me." You breathed, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

He did, sealing your lips together - this time without the tickle of smoke. You melted into the kiss, winding your arms around his shoulders and dragging you both down to lay on the rooftop of the bus without breaking the kiss. Clay's lips were soft and pliant against yours, moving in gentle rhythm, and it was a while before he broke away, looking flushed and happy. 

For a moment, you both just looked at each other, smiles growing over your faces. 

"So." Clay said. "I think I might write about this for the bridge-"

You broke out into a fit of giggles, rolling onto your back to look up at the sky. "You're such an idiot."

Clay settled in beside you, taking one of your hands in his and laying your interlaced fingers on his chest. "I think you like that about me though." He said. 

You sighed, mockingly annoyed, even though it was true. You liked that he was a goof, and you liked that he had the sense of humor of a fourteen year old, and you liked that he put so much work into his music and that he genuinely cared about his fans and that he would jump off a bridge for his friends.

What you liked the most though, was that you could feel his heartbeat from where your interlocked hands were placed on his chest, and it was beating very fast.