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

22

Nick placed the plates down on the tray table with a little flare. "Bon appetit."

Two plates of french toast (not really, Nick had just soaked a few slices of bread in sugar water, and then syrup, and then sprinkled powdered sugar on them) sat on the tray in front of you and Myra. You smiled thinly and Myra wrinkled her nose. 

"You might as well have just given me a spoonful of sugar." Myra laughed, poking at the toast. 

Nick pouted. "Hey! This was how my mom made it for me when I was a kid, I promise it's really good-"

You tentatively took a bite, only to be absolutely overloaded with sweetness. Just like the bus, for the past hour and a half. As soon as Nick had put some clothes on, he had walked over, making himself at home for the rest of the wait, saying something about how George had kicked them out so he could sleep. You hadn't minded at first, but after a while, watching Myra and Nick just be so painfully in love, it was starting to grate.

You stood up from the couch. "I think I'm going to go get some air."

"C'mon!" Nick said. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

You could hear Myra's laughter as you stepped out of the bus, letting the door swing closed behind you. It had gotten warmer as the night had slowly began to fade to day, and you could just see a sliver of sun on the horizon, illuminating Clay's silhouette as he perched on top of the Dream Team bus, blowing smoke rings to join the clouds. 

Your earlier resolution came back to you as you looked at him. You would set outright asking behind you, and instead play his own game, dropping hints and then acting like it was nothing. If he picked up on it (which you thought he would), great. If he didn't, you could be fairly confident that it had just been a coincidence, and that you were overthinking things. 

You made your way to the back of the bus and climbed the ladder, coming to sit beside him. 

"Hey." Clay said, a lazy grin coming over his face. 

"Hi." You returned. "Heard you got kicked out."

Clay laughed, a puff of smoke leaving his lips. "Yeah." He said. "George said we were being annoying, but, you know, he always says that." Clay took another hit of his joint, exhaling to the sky. "What about you?"

"I elected to leave." You said. "I love that Nick and Myra are in love, but oh my god, they're so in love." You laughed. 

Clay laughed along with you. "You should hear the love song he wrote for her, holy shit dude. It sounds like something Shakespeare would have whipped up."

You hummed. "How's that going for you, by the way?" You asked. "The whole, falling in love to write an epic song thing?"

Clay paused, and his eyes flickered over to you for a second, calculating, determining. "It's going pretty good." He said after a moment, taking another drag off the joint and letting the smoke out in an exhale. "It's going pretty good." He said again, still looking at you. 

"That's good to hear." You said.

You sat together in silence for a moment, as the sun rose more in the sky. In the background, you could hear the crew members working on the flat tire. You leaned back to rest on your elbows, letting the morning sun wash over you. 

Clay let out another ring of smoke, holding the joint out to you, in silent question. You watched the smoke from it swirl around his hand, an idea forming in your head. 

"Shotgun me?" You asked, tilting your head to look back at Clay. 

Clay stopped, and the smoke swirling around the lit end of the joint began to curl upwards. You could see the wheels turning in his head. He looked down at the joint in his hand, and then at you, before a wry sort of smile came over his face. "Alright."

You let out a nervous laugh - you hadn't thought he was going to say yes. You thought he was just going to laugh it off and pass you the joint, but no, Clay was taking a long hit and leaning towards you, his free hand coming up to cradle your jaw and tip your head backwards slightly.

His lips hovered over yours and you looked up into his eyes (they looked green now, in the early morning light). You steeled yourself, letting your eyes flutter shut and your mouth open so that Clay could lean in, and shotgun the hit. 

You were so focused on how close you were to him that you completely forgot about the smoke, and you weren't expecting it when it tickled the back of your throat. You backed away, coughing as the smoke poured out of your mouth, your eyes watering. 

Clay put a hand on your back, looking at you with concern in his eyes. "You good?"

"Yeah." You said, sucking in a greedy breath of fresh air. "Just got distracted."

There was a twinkle in his eye as he handed you the joint, sitting back and using his hands as support. You took it from him, taking a short drag, this time ready for the feeling of the smoke in the back of your throat, and exhaling normally. That was not how you wanted that to go at all. 

You handed the joint back to Clay without looking at him. "I can feel you laughing at me."

"I would never." Clay said, taking it back from you and taking a hit, exhaling the smoke through his nose. "That would be rude of me."

"And now you're showing off." You grumbled. "Look, I'm trying my best here, okay? You're just leagues ahead of me."

Clay caught your eye and smiled, laughter playing on his lips. You found yourself grudgingly smiling as well - it was a little funny, you had to admit, even if it wasn't exactly what you had planned on.