#came very close to titling this one 'mixing fireworks and gasoline' but then i didnt think clumsy was like

[clumsyclifford]

(are you supposed to send prompts in ask boxes. is that what happens. idk what i'm doooiiinnnggg) (thank you for putting up with me being a tumblr plebian) (I've never requested a prompt before!! This is very exciting!! idk what to say uh no pressure bb) okAY!! for the touch prompts, holding the other's chin up for whatever atl pairing you're vibing with currently - team

hi team how exciting! your first prompt fic! i think you will like this one. i like it. a lot. so thank u for the prompt.

read it here on ao3

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They’re the last ones left in the dressing room.

The game is getting a little bit absurd at this point, because every other cast member takes off their own stage makeup. Most of them wait until they’re home to do so. But Alex insists that Rian does the most thorough job of it, so after everyone else has dispersed, it’s always just the two of them.

By all rights, they shouldn’t be allowed to stay this late. Everyone else — everyone — has left. The auditorium should be locked. But Feldy has a soft spot for Rian, since Rian started out on construction crew before he found his calling with makeup, so Rian has the keys in his back pocket and a (semi-joking?) threat of death on his head if he doesn’t lock up when they’re done.

At the moment, Rian’s not thinking about locking up. Rian is thinking about Alex sitting on the counter of the vanity, long legs swinging, head tilted just so to the side, like a dog trying to puzzle him out. Or like a poker player, calling his bluff.

The thing is, Rian’s not bluffing. He’s just not sure if Alex is.

“Stop moving your legs,” he finally says, reaching down to wrap a hand around Alex’s calf. It’s bold, maybe too bold, but tonight had been their second to last performance and Rian is starting to feel the pressure as his window of time to make a move begins to noticeably shrink. Bold might be necessary at this point.

Alex immediately stops. “Sorry,” he says, not seeming sorry at all. A crooked smile hangs from his lips. “I’m trying to sit still, I swear.”

“I know, I know,” Rian says. “Show adrenaline.” He takes Alex’s chin in his hands again, ignoring the way his heartbeat spikes — it always does that — to bring the makeup wipe to his face. “You sounded great, by the way, I don’t know if I told you.”

“Thank you,” Alex says as best he can with his ability to speak obstructed by Rian’s hold. Helpless to say more, he falls silent. Rian also falls silent, focused on Alex’s face.

And here they are again.

Frankly it’s to the point where Rian thinks they should kiss just to get it over with, because that’s obviously what they’re building toward. If it doesn’t happen, he’ll be disappointed on an emotional level, but also on a narrative level, because come on. They’re alone. In the dressing room. And Alex’s face is in Rian’s hands and they are literally inches apart.

Rian had originally thought he just needed to say the right thing to get Alex to break, but more and more he’s starting to wonder if it’ll fall to him. If Alex is too chicken to cave, or maybe just too stubborn. Rian’s not sure he can do it either, but if neither of them acts, then nothing will happen, and if nothing happens Rian is going to have some serious notes for whoever’s writing their story. Specifically about the ending.

He’s just hoping it’s not the ending yet. There’s always tomorrow’s show.

And there’s always tonight. Tonight’s not over yet.

The makeup wipe leaves an oily residue over Alex’s skin as it cleans away layers of stage makeup. Rian could probably do Alex’s makeup in his sleep by now. He wouldn’t want to, because then he’d lose the opportunity to Stand This Close and see Alex so relaxed at surrendering total control of his face to Rian, but. The point is he could. Taking it off is a breeze in comparison. In a few minutes it’ll all be gone.

Rian is trying to drag it out, but there’s only so many ways to slow down makeup removal.

“Did you think it went well?” he asks in a low voice, pulling away for a moment to throw away the dirty wipe and get a new one.

Alex clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says. “I remembered the line I usually forget about, thankfully. I mean, I think I was a little sharp at one point in the first song, but…wins and losses.”

“Didn’t sound sharp to me,” Rian says.

Alex shrugs. “Who can say.”

“I can say,” Rian says. “I have perfect pitch and I’m telling you you weren’t sharp.”

“You have perfect pitch?”

Rian nods.

“And yet you do makeup and play drums,” Alex says contemplatively.

“What can I say, I’m an enigma,” Rian says, with a wry smile. “Okay, no more talking.” He grabs Alex’s chin, again, and Alex falls dutifully silent, again, although his eyes seek out Rian’s and when they meet Alex doesn’t look away.

And continues not to look away. Rian loses the staring contest because he has a job to do, but he can feel his cheeks growing warm and hopes that Alex can’t tell. He can still feel Alex’s gaze heavy on him. A part of him wants to look, to see what exactly Alex is looking at, and a part of him is just too nervous.

Depending where, exactly, Alex is looking, it could put the ball in Rian’s court, and Rian’s not ready to make a play yet, not when he’s still in the middle of a task.

Everything around them is dead silent. It’d be spooky if they weren’t here together. Rian’s not afraid to admit that the auditorium after hours scares him a little. It’s one of those places that isn’t meant to be observed or experienced except at specific, scheduled times. The atmosphere feels nebulous, liminal, like anything taking place here now might not actually be taking place at all, or like they’re in some alternate dimension where actions have no consequences, where nothing they say or do in here has any effect on the outside world.

So maybe it scares Rian for more than one reason. And maybe scare isn’t the right word, but it sure does have his heart racing.

“Y’know Jeff—”

“Alex.”

Alex huffs. “Sorry.”

Rian drops his hand and raises an eyebrow. “Alright, go ahead.”

Unruffled, Alex restarts his story. “I was saying that Jeff told me that I looked good in the stage lights tonight. Like, he thought that my makeup looked really good.”

“Thank you to Jeff,” Rian says dryly, “but I’m not the person who makes you look good, Alex, you do that all on your own.”

Alex blinks. Maybe he hadn’t expected such an obvious flirt. Well, fuck it. Rian’s losing his patience.

“Now shut up,” he adds, and brings the makeup wipe back to Alex’s forehead before Alex can say another word.

A minute passes without event. Rian goes to throw away the wipe in his hand and Alex says, “You do make me look good, you know.”

“No, I make you look visible to the audience,” Rian says. “And I make you look like a character instead of a person. Trust me, if being in a show was about looking good, you don’t need any of my help.”

“You say that to all the cast members whose makeup you’re in charge of?” Alex’s tone is light, but his gaze is piercing, and Rian can tell that this question, and his answer, is going to matter. Alex is giving him the chance to say he’s joking. Rian could retreat right now, back to the darkened wings of safety. Backstage behind the curtains, where he’s always belonged.

Or he could take a brave step into the spotlight and hope the glare doesn’t blind him.

“No,” says Rian, swallowing, holding Alex’s stare. “Just you.”

As Rian watches, Alex’s eyes flicker down to Rian’s lips and then back up.

There’s no explaining that away. There’s really no explaining any of this away.

Rian can feel his heartbeat in his ears.

“I’m almost done,” he says under his breath. More gently than ever before, he lifts Alex’s chin with his index finger and holds him carefully in place. The last streaks of makeup vanish as the makeup wipe passes over them, and at last Rian is sure he’s finished.

As he exhales and throws away the last makeup wipe, Alex speaks up. “Now are you done?” His voice is slightly hoarse. Strange. It’d been fine before.

Rian reclaims his position just in front of Alex, even though now he has no excuse to do so. “Yeah,” he says, handing Alex a tissue. “You have oil all over your face, you might want to…” He makes a gesture to indicate wiping it off, and Alex does as instructed. “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” Alex says, balling up the tissue and setting it off to the side.

“Yeah,” Rian says again, a little breathless. This has to be the moment, but now that it’s here he’s at a loss for what to do with it.

Alex is looking at him like he was earlier, with that infuriating mixture of curiosity and smugness that makes Rian want to kiss him just to take him by surprise. Except why should Rian have to make the first move? Why can’t it fall to Alex? Maybe it’s that Alex doesn’t want to. Maybe he’s rethinking things.

Or maybe their moment was actually before, with Alex’s gaze falling to Rian’s mouth, and now that Rian’s missed it they’ll never have another one.

“What are you thinking about?” Alex asks, quiet. Like that’s an easy question to answer.

Rian looks at him. And then looks at his mouth, and then looks back at his eyes, and he knows that Alex knows. So they’re both in the spotlight now. It’s just a matter of remembering lines.

“Uhm.” Rian reaches for Alex’s face, a well-worn habit by now, and tilts his chin up just slightly. Alex breathes out. “I think I missed a spot.” He drags his thumb over Alex’s bottom lip and murmurs, “Here.”

A faint noise slips from Alex’s throat through his sharp exhale. It’s as good a cue as any.

And as Rian leans in and closes his eyes he feels that rush of adrenaline that Alex so often uses as an excuse for restlessness. Now he understands the thrill of the performance. Even sweating under the spotlight, he’d said all the right lines.

His mouth meets Alex’s, finally, and the satisfaction of this ending more than makes up for the agonizing arc. In fact, if Rian were to do it again, he’d do it the same. If a kiss is only as good as the tension that precedes it, then Alex and Rian are a shower of sparks. Maybe fireworks, maybe just a broken scoop light seconds from crashing down. At the moment, Rian doesn’t care if these sparks are good or bad.

At the moment, Alex is twisting a hand into the front of Rian’s shirt to draw him in, trapping him between Alex’s knees, taking the kiss as a personal challenge. At the moment, Alex is kissing Rian with staggering intensity, and it’s all Rian can do to keep up.

He snakes an arm around Alex’s waist to pull him closer, so that his legs wrap around Rian’s thighs. Out of nowhere, Alex breaks away, grinning and breathing hard, to say, “If I fall off this counter, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh,” Rian says dazedly, but before he gets a chance to recalibrate Alex is hauling him back in like they never stopped.

Even if Rian wanted to move away, he couldn’t; Alex has him locked in between his legs. Not that Rian is complaining. He’s far too distracted by Alex’s tongue skating over his lower lip to be concerned with things like mobility. That, or Alex’s arms sliding around Rian’s neck. It’ll be impossible to break them apart, Rian is sure; they might just be stuck this way forever.

There are definitely worse ways to be stuck.

Slowly but surely, the kiss dims until it’s dark, and Rian is the one to pull back, though as soon as he does he can’t resist one more kiss, for the road, so to speak. In case they talk about it now and something goes terribly wrong. In case they don’t talk about it now and then never acknowledge it again. In case they leave the auditorium and it turns out it never happened.

When they separate for real — both short of breath, though Rian significantly moreso — Alex bites his lip and smiles. Like clockwork, Rian’s gaze snags on the motion, because how could it not when those are the same lips he’d just had his teeth around, and that only makes Alex’s smile bigger.

“So,” he says, and Rian notices he’s still stuck between Alex’s legs; Alex has yet to release him.

“So,” Rian repeats, taking an undignified deep breath because fuck it, he really needs it. Alex seems to be waiting for the rest of a sentence, even though he hadn’t finished his own, and Rian really hadn’t thought further than the so. Under Alex’s watchful gaze, Rian continues, “What are you thinking about?”

This seems to take Alex pleasantly by surprise. He laughs a little. “Uh, guess,” he says, and looks very obviously from Rian’s mouth back to his eyes a few times.

Yeah. Rian is too.

“Other than that,” Rian says, licking his lips, partially because they’re feeling dry but also partially for the rush that comes from knowing Alex will watch him do it. Sure enough, Alex’s gaze is like a magnet.

“Right now?” he asks, lifting his eyes to meet Rian’s.

“Yeah.”

“I’m thinking that I’m really glad I wasn’t wearing stage makeup when we did that just now,” Alex says. There’s a twinkle in his eye. It’s probably the least calculated thing he’s said since the door shut behind the last person to leave, and it leaves Rian smiling.

“Agreed,” he says. “Okay, ask me what I’m thinking about.”

Alex presses his lips together and smiles. “What are you thinking about, Rian?”

“I’m thinking,” Rian says, tilting his head just so, “that however good you look onstage, it’s nothing compared to how you look right now.”

Alex’s smile broadens. “Rian Dawson, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he proclaims, wrapping his hand in Rian’s t-shirt again. “I’d love to see you in stage lights, for the record. You’d outshine everyone.”

“I doubt it,” Rian says. “My luck is pretty good backstage.”

“Is that so?”

“You tell me,” Rian says, cradling Alex’s face in his hands, almost smiling.

Alex’s laugh is swallowed up in Rian’s mouth, and then they’re kissing again, and Rian has a good feeling about the future that’s based on nothing at all. Just instinct, a gut feeling, telling him that these sparks are definitely fireworks.

And it’s going to be a long show.

#rian dawson #alex gaskarth #rilex #rilex fic #all time low #atl fic #fic #my fic #THANKS FOR NOT GIVING ME A PAIRING SO I COULD MAKE IT RILEX TEAM I LOVE U #no one sent rilex and i think they deserve better than that. i love them #dude this fic slaps not to be like my fic slaps but my fic SLAPSSS #i love this one #i dont even care if anyone else likes it lol #came very close to titling this one 'mixing fireworks and gasoline' but then i didnt think clumsy was like #the right VIBE for the fic #so i did not do it #not that that means anything to anyone who's reading it on tumblr #but i mean for the ao3 version lol