“Alright!” Creed whoops, dropping a wet kiss to my cheek, then Riley’s before dancing his way over to the booth where Blair is waiting, bouncing on the balls of his feet with an excited grin as Bear follows in after him.
An hour in, I’ve concluded that I’m either easily impressed, or this really is one of the coolest and most magical processes I’ve ever seen in my life. The sound guy, Nathan, is sweet as can be. He had quietly answered my many, many questions when he could. Riley has spent the better part of the hour sitting quietly next to me with his headphones in. Though this time, he’s plugged directly into the soundboard, absorbing everything that’s going into this track.
Creed starts to sing the same bridge for what has to be the ninth time, and I can’t help but giggle when he shrieks enthusiastically into the hanging microphone after Nathan hits a big red button that stops the playback. He pumps his fists in the air before turning and demanding high-fives from Bear and Blair.
Riley chuckles next to me, and I turn to see him smiling at his boys through the window.
Creed bursts through the studio doors a moment later.
“Tell me that was fucking perfect!” he pants, planting his hands on his hips as he stares intently at the soundboard. “Because it felt like it was perfect.”
Nate hits a button, and suddenly all the dials and knobs automatically readjust, and the bridge begins again. This time, the sound playing on the speakers is right in front of me. My skinerupts in chills when the music builds to a crescendo, and the bridge plays out. I can’t tell if I want to scream or cry over just how perfect this song is.
I feel insanely honored to get to witness it come to life.
“I think this is it,” I rasp, looking into Creed’s eager eyes. I’m no professional, and it’s nice to see that Nathan doesn’t take offense at me answering before he can. “I think it’s a fucking banger, Creed. I love it.”
The smile that blooms across his beautiful face has me feeling dizzy with a painful need to keep him smiling like that, always.
“She loves it,” he whispers to himself before kicking the studio door open and belting out, “She loves it!”
Creed looks like a kid in a candy store when he all but shoves Bear and Blair from the studio while chanting the very same words over and over. My face heats, and it’s impossible to hide the genuine joy that’s radiating outward from within. Creed’s excitement as he all but bounces over to where Riley sits. His eyes home in on the fact that Riley’s currently distracted with his headphones, so he calms himself long enough to crouch in front of Ri, bracing his hands on his knees before sliding them up his thighs. Riley blinks a few times before he realizes Creed is there, but he smiles when he sees the goofy grin that greets him.
Riley slides the headphones down until they encircle his neck.
“It’s your turn,” Creed states, his palms slapping against Ri’s thighs. “You ready?”
Deep mocha eyes look more determined than I’ve seen in a while as he rests his steady hands atop Creed’s. “More than ready.”
“Fuck yeah!” Creed whoops as he pulls Riley to stand with him.
The moment they’re both on their feet, Creed traps Riley’s face between his tattooed fingers and pulls him in for a kiss that I’m certain is not appropriate for such a public or professional space—all lips and teeth and tongue. Nobody protests, and everybody conveniently has somewhere else to be looking while Creed claims his boy.
Except for me.
I don’t think I’ll ever get over the sight of them together.
They were a perfect pair when they were simply best friends, but now they’re a match made in chaos-infused heaven.
“You’ve got this, baby. The song is fucking incredible, but it’s missingyou.” Creed kisses Riley’s swollen lips once more before shoving him towards the studio door with a playful swat to his ass.
He yelps before laughing, and he blesses me with those perfect fangs as he does so.
Riley settles behind the drum set and dons a new pair of headphones, thicker than the previous pair. He stretches, and his eyes flare with surprise when he wiggles his fingers and the drumsticks twirl perfectly in his hand before sliding into the silicone strap that will keep it attached to his hand.
Creed takes a seat between Nate and me, his eyes studying the small monitor in front of him before tweaking and adjusting the soundboard. Nate seems unbothered that Creed’s taken over his job, and I watch in fascination because none of it makes sense to me. He holds his thumb up in the air, waiting for Riley to look up and acknowledge him. The moment he does, Riley freezes. I recognize the exact moment his body locks up and his breaths shorten.
“Shit…” I whisper, my heart aching for Riley.
His beautiful, glassy dark eyes find me through the glass, and he swallows thickly.
“I, uh—” He tries to grab at the back of his neck while still gripping the drumstick, his nails scraping at the tender skin there. “Fuck, I need…”
My head snaps to Creed, who is already looking at me with his hands clasped and elbows resting against the desk of the soundboard.
“Can I go in there?”
Creed nods immediately, standing with me before grabbing the chair I was sitting in. He quickly ushers me into the studio and places the chair in the corner, facing where Riley waits patiently.
