PRETTY LOVER BOY - ROGER TAYLOR

X.

NOTE!!: yes, i'm fully aware that in the movie they were recording the Queen album but for the sake of my sanity we're skipping to Sheer Heart Attack so we can get to the touring. don't come for me.

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By the time we finish recording, I'm completely worn out. Elijah had left a while ago for his flight and it had been a mildly tearful goodbye, to which I received a back pat from Brian, but other than that there weren't really any hitches. I now sit in the middle of the live room, a metal bucket lovingly placed on my head by none other than Deaky.

"I'd say that was successful," I say to no one in particular, pushing the can up past my eyes.

"Yeah, I think I'd agree," Brian comes up from behind me, knocking the can back down over my eyes. I giggle, the sound reverberating around me. As I pull the bin off my head and set it back down on the ground, I catch Roger looking at me. I smile at him briefly before turning my attention to helping Deaky put some stuff away.

"Alright, anyone who needs a ride, let's go," I quickly scramble over to Brian, followed closely by Roger. We wave our goodbyes to the three stragglers, Freddie, Mary, and Deaky, before Bri leads us out of the studio and to his car.

"That was fun," I pipe up as I slide into the backseat of the car. Roger shuts the door after me before getting in the passenger side. The two boys voice their agreeances before Bri starts the car, the radio softly filling the inside as he drives us off.

After only a moment, with my head leaned against the door, I'm not able to keep myself awake any longer.

-

"Clementine?" I jump as I feel someone's hand come around my arm, gripping their wrist harshly. When I find it's Roger, I immediately let go.

"Sorry," I say quickly, running my hand across my eyes and throwing my legs out of the car, "I didn't realize." Roger holds his hand out to me and I take it, getting pulled from the back seat.

"Thanks for the ride, Brian," I say sloppily, shutting the car door. Brian grins at me, giving a honk before driving away. I watch as he goes, and then I feel a presence behind me and remember Roger's there.

"Hey, he left you," I say, looking back at him.

"I'm helping you into your flat silly, come on," he pulls me by my hand up the fire escape, careful to make sure I don't throw myself off the side as we come into the rather cool third floor hallway. From there, Rog leads me all the way to the room. I fish my key from my pocket, unlocking the door and stumbling inside, covering a yawn with the back of my hand as I flop down on the couch.

"You seem drunk," Roger says to me, shutting the door gently behind him.

"I'm just tired," I respond, propping my head on a pillow, "I really don't want to do anything tonight, Rog." He comes over to me at my comment, almost looking hurt.

"That's not all I want you for you know," he says, sitting down in front of the couch, leaning against the mahogany coffee table.

"You don't want me, Rog," I reply, rolling my head to the side a bit so I can throw my arm over my eyes, "don't say that."

"How would you know?" He asks, pushing my arm from my face.

"Your pretty little lady friend Mr. Taylor," I put my finger to his chest, "and all the other ones I convinced myself didn't exist."

"I'm sorry," I look to him, surprised to find some sort of remorse in his eyes. "I didn't realize how wrong it was until you were standing right in front of me."

"Wrong, Roger, what're you going on about," I pull my hand back to my chest, "we aren't together or anything. No harm no foul, you didn't break any rules."

"How're you so unbothered?" Roger takes my hand in his, running his thumb across my knuckles.

"If someone doesn't want me, why waste my time caring," I shrug simply.

"But I do want you, Clems." I furrow my brows, rolling fully on to my side. I look at him for a moment before dropping my face back to neutral.

"Prove it then," I squeeze his hand.

"How?" He asks.

"You decide. Just make it work." Roger looks at me for a while, and I can't help but shrink back under his piercing gaze, wanting to crawl inside myself. After a moment, he leans forward, pressing his lips to mine.

This isn't the rough, lustful kiss I'm used to from him. It's sweet, gentle, and it makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. I can feel the heat building up in my cheeks as I wonder quietly if he can hear my heart racing. When he pulls away, I have to blink back the daze.

We sit for a while after that, and it's in those moments that I realize the little things about him. The smile that can look cocky, but to the right person is a nervous one or the way his eyes become almost translucent if the light hits them just right. He's an Angel, straight from a painting.

"You're gorgeous," I manage, reaching out and taking a strand of his hair between my thumb and forefinger. Roger wraps his fingers around my wrist, moving it so he can kiss my palm gently.

"If you want something serious, we have to start from square one," I begin, catching Roger's attention, "dates, hangouts, stuff like that. We'll go from there, but if you really want me like you say you do, you'll put effort in."

"Yeah, no problem," he says, a grin spreading across his face. I can't help the one that drags across my face as well as Roger gets to his feet, falling down on top of me to envelope me in a crushing hug.

"Rog, you're gonna kill me," I manage to get out, pushing at him. He moves slightly off me, slotting himself between my side and the back of the couch.

"I'll take you on a date tomorrow?" He asks me, brushing some stray pieces of hair away from my face.

"Will you? Where to?" I question, propping myself up on my elbow.

"Anywhere you want," he responds.

"Ok, you decide." I throw my leg over his hip, tucking my arm under his and pulling myself flush to his chest.

"Do I get any guidelines?" I press my forehead to his chest.

"Nothing too fancy, we could even stay in, eat Chinese," I suggest. Roger hums in response and I can feel it through his chest. We sit in a comfortable silence for only a moment.

"How close of a friend is Elijah?"

"I've known him since the end of grade school."

"You know what I was asking."

"Yep."

"I hated when you called him cute."

"I know."

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