Chapter Text
Clay stepped towards the exit of the room with haste. He was always glad that he got to skip the next part of his band’s preparation process- makeup. Clay wouldn’t say that he didn’t like makeup, he was just happier that he got some free time to himself before his performance.
It was a perk that came from being faceless on stage. When he went on stage, he wasn’t Clay anymore- he was ‘Dream.’ He used a circular white mask with a smile drawn on the visible side to hide his identity when on stage. None of his fans had seen his face before (well, that wasn’t true, but that’s a story for later).
Said mask was in his hand as he mindlessly strolled his way around the room. Most people were frantically running back and forth to get the makeup they needed for each individual band member. Clay didn’t need to set anything up or do much of anything. His hair was done and his mic was already set up.
He didn’t need to set up any musical instruments because he didn’t play anything. Clay was the vocalist- the main attraction honestly. It probably had something to do with his band being called ‘The Dreamers’ while his own stage name was Dream. If there was any way to make him the focal point, it was that.
That wasn’t to cast aside the other members of his group. Sapnap was known for his drum solos. Quackity always played exceptionally well on his electric guitar. Karl shredded on the bass. And Callahan was known for playing whatever extra instrument needed for the song at the time- but he was mainly seen playing the keyboard.
Before Clay left to do his own thing, Sapnap called him over. “The four of us are gonna play backup for the opener,” He explained from his seat. Clay quickly shifted out of the way of the woman as she hurriedly worked on Sapnap’s face to make him look good underneath the burning lights on the stage.
“What- seriously? Miss ‘whatever her name is’ didn't bring her own crew to play?” Clay groaned as he looked at his bandmates. He was used to having them backstage with him before their shows while the opening act went on.
“Miss Sugar Pink,” Karl quipped from his seat when he heard Clay. The others glanced at him as he sheepishly found himself shrinking in his head. “What? I listen to MSP all the time!”
“I thought MSP was mainly a British sensation. You’re not exactly British, Karl,” Quackity hummed as one of the ladies dusted some powder onto his cheek. Callahan (always the silent type) nodded along beside him.
“Well- yeah, but I’m allowed to enjoy whatever music I like,” Karl defended himself quickly. He turned away, clearly embarrassed by the others joking around about his taste in music and singers.
“You are, just don’t fangirl on stage, alright?” Clay suggested with a small wheeze. His laughter was infectious- causing all the others to laugh along. Even Karl, the one who was previously too embarrassed to talk much, joined in with the laughter.
They all apologized to the makeup assistants around them as they struggled to work on them while they were all in their fits. Clay, despite not having to have his makeup done, got the most dirty looks from the women and men working on his friends’ faces.
“Just wanted to let you know,” Sapnap chuckled as he waved Clay away. The lady working on Sapnap seemed more than happy to have Clay leave the area.
With a small roll of his eyes, the blond stepped out of the room. He could go backstage to his dressing room if he really wanted to, but he didn’t feel like sitting alone. Instead, he made his way around to the side of the stage to see if there was anyone he could bug.
Sometimes, he was lucky and there were fans with backstage passes. Since he wasn’t always that involved with the tickets, he never knew when they were selling backstage access or not. He always found out in the moment of meeting a fan.
Lazily, his gaze scanned over the area for anyone who wasn’t wearing the black crew uniforms. It seems to be that everyone was in a blur of motion as they worked on making sure the concert ran smoothly. He tried to look past them to find anyone he could actually chat with.
He soon spotted a rather attractive individual standing in the area just offstage. Said person seemed to be glancing towards the stage occasionally before dipping back to the side room and adjusting the clothing she was wearing.
Speaking of clothing, they were wearing a rather tight fitting pink shirt with text on it at about the chest. As Clay stepped closer, he realized that the shirt was merch for the opening act and had her name on it in fun white bubble letters. The name was surrounded by several things like strawberries and what seemed to be bubbles.
A loose, pale blue jacket was halfway up her arms as she continued to step back and forth from her spot to the stage. It seems that she was mainly wearing it for the look or else she would’ve been wearing it properly instead of halfway down her arms.
On top of that, she was also wearing white thigh high stockings that had three stripes of pink around the top. A white tennis skirt covered just about where said thigh highs met with her skin. As she walked around, the skirt flipped up enough for the blond to see the thigh highs squeezing the plush fat of her thighs. The sight was almost enough for Clay’s mouth to start watering.
As she stepped around the area, her shoes clicked against the floor loudly. Her feet were hidden away inside of a pair of pink heels that almost entirely matched in coloration to the shirt. There was a decorative bow at her ankles on the strap that held them in place. A blue and pink choker with a heart shaped piece of metal in the middle held tight around her throat.
Her eyes were hidden away behind chunky white glasses. Clay wouldn’t admit it, but he was actually somewhat upset that they weren’t heart shaped. Instead, the white frames were round as they consumed a large portion of her face from view.
Her frame wasn’t as curvy as he was used to in women. She didn’t have that much of a chest nor that wide of hips. She did, however, have a beautifully shaped ass that Clay was much too interested in getting a better look at.
Just being near her made Clay feel like he was underdressed when he was anything but. He was dressed in his normal stage wear- a neon green hoodie with a ‘belt’ running from the shoulder to the waist, tight black jeans, fingerless gloves, and the mask held in his hand.
He swallowed before licking his lips as he approached the attractive stranger. He built up all his confidence in his short walk over. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could bring her to his dressing room backstage- whether that happened before the show, after, or both times didn’t matter much to him.
“You’re rather pretty,” he purred as he continued to rake his gaze up and down the smaller individual’s body. His grip tightened on the mask in his hands as he tried to stop himself from physically touching the other individual. That would be rude- he wasn’t given consent.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she answered. The blond was surprised as her voice was much deeper than he expected. From her appearance, he was expecting a light lit to her voice, not the almost masculine yet airy voice that rose out. He shoved that away as he didn’t care too much what she sounded like.
“It is a compliment,” Clay snorted with a small chuckle. He shook his head before continuing on. “So are you here to see Miss Sugar Pink?” Clay asked as he pointed out the shirt that the smaller individual was wearing. His gaze flicked down to her chest for a moment before turning back to her beautiful face.
“Mmm, you could say something like that,” she laughed lightly. She reached out first and lightly grazed her hand against Clay’s arm. He shivered at the touch as he realized she had well manicured nails he hadn’t noticed before. The base of the nails were a similar pink color to the rest of his outfit before fading into a pastel blue color at the tips.
“How about The Dreamers? Have you heard of them?” He teased as he leaned closer. He couldn’t help himself as, despite the girl wearing heels, she was shorter than him. The blond towered over most people- it was sometimes a wonder how people didn’t
“Of course I have. I’m here, aren’t I?” She chuckled lightly. Despite how surprised he was at first from hearing her deep voice, he couldn’t help but find it rather appealing to his ears. It was much better than some women who had squeaky, higher pitched voices.
“Would it surprise you if I told you I was the lead singer?” He grinned as he scanned the smaller individual’s face carefully. When he didn’t notice much of a change, he cleared his throat before continuing, “Dream?”
“I assumed you were,” She hummed as she reached over and laced her pointer finger around Clay’s own. Clay’s eyes followed the movement where he noticed said mask still held tightly in his hand.
“Oh- my mask gives it away, huh?” He chuckled as he brought the mask up and covered his face with it. He clicked the latch on the back together with a soft click before he spun the mask around so that it hung on the side of his head instead of on his face. The hairdressers would be pissed if they saw this, but he didn’t care.
The girl reached her own hand up and pushed the glasses to the top of her head.
“So does the outfit,” She continued with a laugh. Her hand reached up and poked at the brightly colored fabric. It wasn’t something someone would normally be seen wearing- well, it wasn’t before 'Dream' became famous with his band. She tugged on it lightly causing him to jerk forward.
Clay was more than happy to oblige and close the distance between them. The blond grabbed her chin inside of his palm and tilted her head upwards so that he could stare into her beautiful brown eyes.
“Do you treat all your fans like this?” She scoffed with a smile as she leaned against the wall behind her. She shifted on her feet for a moment as she adjusted her position. The tall heels on her feet didn’t seem to be doing much in terms of comfort.
“Only the pretty ones,” Clay chuckled out the answer. His tongue slipped out and licked his lips as he continued to gaze down at the girl in front of him. He usually didn’t need to try this hard when he was flirting with a fan backstage. Just saying his name was usually enough to get them to throw themselves at him.
“Only the ones you want to fuck,” She clarified with a small tut. Despite the apparent disapproval in her voice, she still leaned upwards slightly to get more into Clay’s face. Both of her hands had found their way to his hoodie and grabbed the green fabric in her tight grip.
“Same thing, right?” He grinned wickedly as he caged the smaller person between his arms as he pressed one of his palms against the wall. He smirked as he brought the other hand up to stroke her cheek gently.
She let out a small noise in response, shaking her head but not pulling away. They were inches apart. Clay could see the heavy flush across her cheeks as her brown eyes flicked down to his lips before meeting up at his eyes again.
Clay couldn’t help but mimic the action. From the closeness, Clay could see the makeup coating her face. It seemed to be light, though, as the heavy pink flush that covered her cheeks was very visible. Her lips, though, seemed to be coated in some sort of lip gloss giving them a shiny finish.
A low chuckle escaped his mouth. She inhaled sharply as she felt his hot breath cross her lips from the noise. Usually, he’d take that and smash their lips together, but he actually liked the attitude of this girl. He craved to know more about her- both personally and physically.
“What’s your name, gorgeous?” He smirked as he brought one of his hands down and adjusted some of the hair that fell onto her face. After that, he moved his hand and rested it against her cheek loosely while absentmindedly running his thumb under her eye.
Her eyelids fluttered at the movement before she answered. “Close, but no. It’s George,” She giggled at her own joke for a second. Clay paused for a moment at the name, but something else clicked in his head before the other thought crossed his mind.
“Oh, like a nickname for Georgina?” He asked, tilting his head ever so slightly.
“No,” She answered quickly. It took her another moment before she realized what he asked. She pulled herself away from Clay’s face to the point that she was practically pressing herself against the wall. “What? Why would you think my name is Georgina?”
“I assumed that your name was a nickname. Was I wrong about that? Did I do something wrong?” Clay quickened his speech as he removed his arms from around her head. He could tell the change in her demeanor almost instantly- while he was looking for a quick fuck, he certainly wasn’t going to force someone into it.
“W-what?” George began, her eyes scanning over Clay’s face for a second as it seemed she was connecting the pieces. She swallowed before she spoke again, “I don’t know how you don’t realize this, but I’m a man. George is my name- my full first name.”
Clay blinked a few times as he tried to process the information. It didn’t seem like it wanted to pass through his thick skull, though, as he continued to malfunction while standing in front of the smaller person.
“You have to be joking with me- there’s no fucking way,” Clay grunted as his green eyes widened. He couldn’t help himself from scanning the smaller man’s body up and down to try and figure out how he messed up so badly.
“Wow- that’d be so funny, wouldn’t it be? Hilarious joke, really,” George remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He rolled his eyes as he shifted his stance into a more defensive one.
“Why- Why the fuck are you dressed like that?” Clay exclaimed as he awkwardly stepped away from George. His mouth watered whether he actually wanted it to or not. He swallowed heavily as he continued to stare at the man. He honestly looked very feminine in his outfit to the point that Clay seriously didn’t realize that he was actually a man- or maybe Clay just didn’t want to admit to himself that he was attracted to his less than feminine frame and voice.
“Am I not allowed to dress feminine Dream?” The blond’s stage name felt like poison as it dripped out of the smaller man’s mouth. He huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“That’s not-” Clay began but was quickly cut off by the smaller man.
“Sure, sure,” George scoffed as he pushed away from the wall and towards the stage. While he was stepping away from Clay, he brushed their shoulders against one another roughly at his exit. “Speaking of, I need to get on stage. I don’t want to be late, do I?”
“No, wait-” He hurried after the smaller man. The heels made him walk slower, but gave him an all too alluring walk style- wait, what the fuck was Clay thinking? No, he couldn’t be thinking like that. He was attracted to women- not men. Men were… not his thing, right? He grabbed the thin wrist of the British man as he forced him to a stop. “Miss Sugar Pop or whatever is the opening act. I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you are clearly not her.”
“You are the biggest fucking idiot, aren’t you?” George snapped. His brown eyes were filled with fire as they glared directly into Clay’s green ones. If Clay was much more of a coward, he would’ve let up at this point… but he certainly wasn’t a coward (nor was he all too bright).
“What are you implying-” Clay was clipped off by the brunet once again.
“I’m Miss Sugar Pink, you- you, ugh! Did you never listen to my music before I became your opening act?” He yanked his hand from the larger man’s grip as he turned on his heel. Clay reached out and grabbed his wrist once again to stall him from leaving. A million thoughts crossed his head as he tried to figure out what to say.
“But- you’re a man,” Clay swallowed as he spoke. He knew how he sounded and he wasn’t entirely pleased with it. But- but! Clay wasn’t attracted to men. And the men he knew never dressed as feminine as George did.
“You said the same thing about my outfit- shut the fuck up about that! I’m allowed to look however I want,” George growled as he once again pulled himself away from Clay’s grip. He shook his head as he muttered aloud, “Implying that a man can’t use a feminine stage name? Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Clay watched as the pretty brunet strided away and towards the side of the stage. The other members of his band had made their way out of hair and makeup and were making small talk with the small British man.
Karl looked like he was about to pass out before Quackity slung his arm over the tall brunet to calm him down and refocus his attention. Clay would never admit he felt jealous that everyone seemed to be getting along so well with him after… that. But then again, none of them knew what happened.
He knew better than to walk over there- especially since they were about to go on stage. If one of the fans glanced over to the side of the stage, they might get a glance of his face… or worse, someone might have their camera angled at the wrong spot at the wrong moment.
Clay groaned in frustration as he pushed himself away from the area and towards one of the many chairs strewn around the place. If Miss Sugar Pink aka George was going to be their opening act for the rest of their shows in Britain, this was gonna be a long month.
