Ryan Seaman x Reader - Off Stage

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You were standing at the side of the stage, well hidden by the same curtain that also shielded one of the electronic consoles from the excited audience's view. You watched Dallon stride over the stage, over to where Ryan was playing. From your position you could only see the drummer in his profile, admiring his head banging to the music he was playing. You could not help the smile that tucked at your lips watching him. No matter how many days you spent on tour with the band, no matter how many hours you watched them perform, no matter how often you had heard each song, there was still excitement rushing through you when you heard them play.

The last notes of 'Modern Day Cain' sounded over the stage and into the cheering audience, then the lights dimmed and the two musicians moved backstage. You stayed up, knowing that they would come up for an Encore and that you had another few minutes before you started searching for Ryan. Just like any other show before a minute passed, before they stepped back on stage to do the last song, 'Nobody Likes the Opening Band'. They had played halfway through the song, the audience singing along with dedication, when you started making your way around to the other side of the stage to where Ryan would later come through. You waved the technician, who still stood over the console, goodbye and he smiled in return before concentrating back on his work. The space between wall and curtain that hid people walking around backstage from the audience was narrow and you had to stand close to the wall several times to let technicians pass by. Even if from the stage everything looked peaceful and idyllic, behind the curtains people were hurrying busily around, reminding you of an anthill.

You reached the gap between the curtains just in time with the last chords of the piano. The audience cheered loudly and Dallon waved Ryan to the front to do some bows, then they walked backstage, both sweaty but with big smiles on their faces. Dallon walked past you, shooting you a grin and getting something to drink. Ryan wrapped his arms around you, his lips capturing yours in sweet kiss. When you pulled away, you ran your hands through his blue dyed hair and admired the crinkles around his eyes.

"You were brilliant," you whispered, kissing him again quickly.

"Well, thank you," he grinned, letting go of you and taking your hand instead, leading you to one of the rooms where they had hung out before the show.

The room was stuffy, there were two sofas and a table on which bottles with water and sodas were waiting for the crew members. Ryan grabbed some water and flopped down on one of the sofas next to Dallon, pulling you into his lap. He took a few gulps of the cool beverage before handing the bottle to you. You also took a few sips, thankful for the refreshment.

Dallon, Ryan and you talked quietly for a while, the boys coming down from their adrenaline high. Ryan had his arms wrapped around your hip, one of his hands casually playing around with the hem of your shirt, sometimes grazing his fingers over a thin line of exposed skin. When you had first started dating, it had been an unusual feeling, but overtime you got used to Ryan's need always to touch you. It gave him a feeling of safety and reassurance, and you were definitely not going to complain.

"Do you think we should see if we can help with the stage," you wondered after a while.

"Yeah, let's take a look," Ryan agreed and together you got up to check if someone might need your help.

The stage was almost cleared and the roadies assured you that they needed no help, so the two men decided to go outside to talk to the fans, which were doubtlessly waiting outside the venue for them to sign a few things. You decided not to tag along, the fans were here for Dallon and Ryan, and you did not want to be the annoying partner who could never be separated from their significant other. So while Dallon and Ryan went outside, the crowd who had been waiting for them erupting into loud cheering, you walked backstage again. You helped with a few cables and checked the fastening of the cases which held Ryan's drums. The roadies insisted that you did not need to help, but were glad you did. It was late at night and they had worked a lot more over the day than you had, so you thought it would only be nice to give them a hand. You had some lovely chats with them, asking about their families, since you all knew each other, and enjoyed some videos of a dog, that one of the stage workers' children had sent to him.

When everything was packed up and loaded into the bus, you left the venue through the back door and snuck around a few corners towards the entrance where still a small crowd had gathered around the artists to talk to them. You stayed a few meters away, not wanting to draw any attention to your presence, while watching your boyfriend talking to the fans. You loved seeing him interact with them, the patience he had when someone was searching for the right words, the way he placed a calming hand on their arm when they were nervous, the joy when he got a compliment. It made you happy knowing that he was doing something he enjoyed so much and you were glad that he had taken you on tour to see this side of him.

You had only been standing around for a few minutes, when a group of three girls noticed you and started talking to you. They told you about how much they loved the music and asked you many questions like what your favorite song of the band was and who you thought would survive a zombie apocalypse.

"I really wanna say me, but I guess I'd die first," you had chuckled at that question. "In the end it would just be Dallon, because Ryan would sacrifice himself or something."

After a few more questions and many more laughs, the girls were picked up by one of their mothers, and not long after, Ryan said goodbye to his last admirers and walked over to where you were waiting for him.

"Ready to go home," he asked, tapping on the tip of your nose, "It's hotel night and I am really looking forward to a proper bed."

You grinned and took his hand in yours. Somehowyour hand always fit perfectly into yours, as if they were made to be held byeach other, just the same way his lips fit perfect onto yours and his smell wasso addicting to you. Ryan closed his fingers around yours tightly and leant hishead against yours, while you calmly walked down the street, enjoying eachother's company in perfect silence.

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