Chapter Text
The crowd cheered as he walked from the flashing lights to the backstage area. Part of being a DJ was reading your crowd and adapting to it, and here he felt the task every gig: he could tell not everyone in the crowd liked him, that this was not their usual space nor his, but he saw that some of them enjoyed his show and he took it as the win it was.
He needed something to take the edge off and, heading to the band room, he very much craved those yummy additions from the menu. Who had suggested those? He wouldn't be surprised if it was Josh. He arrived and picked one of the water bottles, drank it while looking for those snacks but found none. He turned to the solitude room then, they were there sometimes, he was feeling particularly determined to eat that and nothing else. Besides, he could use some privacy.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw the door was ajar. He almost picked the handle when, by chance, took a peek inside.
Trent was there, his head ducked down. Damn, didn't he have to go on stage, like, right now?
Maybe he wasn't feeling well. He almost moved to help him, but a hand leaned on Trent's shoulder. The person got closer and turned out to be Atticus, which Trent turned up to look at, blinking leisurely.
Somehow this reminded him of the days when he worked with them on their last album. They always seemed to be in a bubble that was hard to get into —not in the sense that he wasn't included in the production process, they were both receptive to his ideas, thank god— but in the sense that they always seemed to understand each other. The kind of understanding that only builds up over years and years of working together, he guessed, but he could also sense an inherent sense of trust, the kind that's hard to get... and the kind that, sometimes, made him feel like he was interrupting something. Like right now.
They were just looking at each other, Atticus' hand started doing little caresses on Trent's shoulder. It slid from there and stopped on his cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. Atticus' face got closer and gave Trent a kiss. A gentle, sweet, intimate kiss which was pleasently returned.
Alex thought that he had read them wrong before, that he was making things up in his mind. Weren't these guys married? To other women, he meant. He couldn't understand—
Behind him, he heard the door being opened. He turned quickly, seeing Robin coming in and behind him a young man with a tray full of those yummy additions.
"Hey, have you seen Trent? We have to get in a minute."
"Uh... I think they're in the private room—excuse me." He dodged Robin and went for what he had originally come in here for.
Whatever it was he saw, maybe he could ask later...