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

27

In the back of your mind, you could hear voices. You couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but they were familiar - a medium tone with a rasp, and a lower tone with a wheezing laugh. As you woke up more, they came more into focus.

You pushed yourself up off the bunk, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. After getting food with everyone else, you had made your way back to the buses to get some sleep before you headed back out onto the road for the next stop on the tour - San Francisco. You slipped your feet out of the bunk, stretching out before you actually got up. Judging from the ache behind your eyes, you had gotten about four hours of sleep. Judging by the fact that Myra's bunk looked like it hadn't even been touched, she hadn't even bothered to get any.

Whatever, you probably weren't going to be doing much today anyway.

The voices coming from the front of the bus caught your attention again and you pulled yourself fully from the bunk, padding towards them still rubbing sleep from your eyes. You could make out what they were saying now.

"...think it's a good idea?"

"Of course. One, it would be a great song. Two, that's adorable. Oh, morning Y/N."

You stepped into the rest of the bus to see Myra, flipping an omelette, and Clay, perched on one of the couches, his acoustic guitar and his laptop next to him. Your heart gave an involuntary flutter at the sight of him and you smiled. 

"Morning." Clay said, scooting over on the couch so you could sit next to him. 

You did. "What are you doing here?" You asked. "Shouldn't you be on your own bus?"

Clay shrugged. "I thought I would ride with you guys. If that's alright."

Myra shot you a look, mischief on her lips. It was very clear to you that she found this amusing, and you shot her a look back, because she and Nick were ten times worse. She ignored you, taking her omelette off the stove and flipping it onto a plate before grabbing a fork. 

"I'm going to eat this, and then I'm going to pass out." She announced, heading towards the bunks. "You kids have fun. Condoms are in the bathroom-"

"You're disgusting!" You shouted at her retreating figure. You could hear her laugh before she closed the door to the bunks, and then it was quiet. 

Your attention was drawn back to Clay when he draped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into the touch, smiling at him. "Any special reason you wanted to ride with us, or just because?"

Clay hummed. "Little of both." He said, before he closed the distance between you to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You sighed into it, letting your eyes flutter shut. It was like last night had never ended.

When Clay pulled away he was grinning and he pressed one last kiss to the tip of your nose before leaning back into the couch, content to just wrap the arm around your shoulders tighter, so that you were pressed together from shoulder to hip.

"I have something I want to ask you."

You glanced over at him. "Sure."

"So, you know that song I'm writing?" Clay led in. You nodded. "And that you also wrote part of a song." You nodded again. "I was thinking, that if you were okay with me using your work and you wouldn't mind it maybe being on the next album, we could put them together into one song?"

You rolled the idea over in your head for a second. That song was awfully personal, and you didn't know if you wanted hundreds of thousands of people hearing it. On the other hand though, it was unlikely that you would ever do anything with it by yourself. And, if Clay put it out, people wouldn't know it was from you. 

And on a third separate hand, that was the most romantic thing you had ever heard in your life. Your stomach erupted with butterflies just thinking about it - Clay wanted to put out a song about you, and include the part you had written about him. He had taken 'your song' to an entirely new level. And looking at his hopeful face, you couldn't bring yourself to say.

"Yeah." You said. "That's... actually amazing."

Clay brightened immediately, reaching over to grab his laptop. "Yeah? You're down?"

"Yeah." You said. "I don't know much about the technical aspects of making a song, but yeah, I'm down."

Clay grinned, popping open his laptop and pulling the battered notebook he had brought up to the roof all those nights before from the pocket in the front of his guitar case. He flipped to the page, opening a document and beginning to transcribe what he had written there. Following his lead, you pulled out your phone, opening the note so that he could take your lyrics as well. 

"We might have to change the tempo in a couple places so that it flows smoother, and some of the rhymes too... but I think if we used these parts as verses and then I could make a bridge that kind of winds it all together - maybe I should write about that kiss for the bridge - we could use this bit for the chorus, and we'll have to decide if this is going to be slow and sensual or fast and passionate and what key should I put this in?.."

You nodded along, even though you only had a vague idea of what Clay was talking about, content to watch him work and offer your opinion when he asked. You settled back into the sofa, listening to him ramble and hum and pluck notes on his guitar, hearing your own words about him sung back to you - hearing the words that he had written about you sung to you. It was all very touching, and it made your heart swell up with those warm and fuzzy feelings you had come to associate with Clay. 

You could sit here with him for hours.