✨ Oneshots ✨

I Don't Wanna Talk About It - John and Roger (platonic)

Another thing I don't see much of is John and Roger -- it's usually all Deacury. Hope you enjoy. 

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1983

Today was not a good day for a certain blond drummer in a rock band. He was in a bad mood.

And when it was bad, this was no joke. Roger would just sit around and pout like a child all day if he wanted.

Currently, that's what the man was doing—a bit hungover and just grumpy.

He scoffed at the laughter he heard from the neighbours, and also at the tabloids, just absolutely anything he could be angry at.

-

All he wanted to do was sit around and frown. And Roger was feeling physical pain, though he wasn't sure why—he wasn't that old, and he drummed enough to be in shape. 

The only problem was that he smoked, but it hadn't really affected him before.

He didn't realise that physical and emotional pain could be affecting each other.

But as he was slumping down in his seat, a knock came from the door.

-

"Coming, just gimme a minute," the drummer grumbled and got up to answer the door.

When it was opened, the person behind the locked door revealed to be none other than the bassist.

With a scowl, he answered, "I don't want to see anyone right now, thanks." Before closing the door.

But John pushed it open before it could be locked again, looking determined and empathic. "You look upset, Rog. Can I come in?" 

-

"I already told you. Now go away, I don't think you understand."

What Roger didn't know is that Freddie was standing to the side out of sight, but enough for John to see him. He was there for emotional support, knowing Roger could be stubborn.

Deacy turned to look at the singer, not feeling strong himself.

Freddie gave a silent look that told him to persist, and the bassist nodded and kept his hand on the door to keep it open slightly.

-

"Please let me inside. I just wanna help." John nearly pleaded, using his 'dad voice.'

Roger begrudgingly opened the door and gestured for the man to step in, though he was still grumpy.

After they both got to sitting down, Roger started to open up. 

"I feel like rubbish, and I don't know why." The drummer sighed heavily.

-

"Maybe you're starting to crash from the lifestyle of a rocker.." John said, which he then looked nervous because it was a projection of his own feelings.

"John, are you sure? You don't seem like you know." Roger raised one eyebrow.

"Ee-yes, I am." He replied quickly, that odd accent showing through.

"So anyway, what can I do?" John offered, occasionally glancing out the window since he knew Freddie was out there.

-

"I don't know.. Is there something out there that's so interesting?" Roger asked gently, catching on.

John was too nervous to really answer, so he shrugged, unsure whether to tell the truth.

Though not given credit for it, Roger was quite intelligent. Maybe not as much as his band mates, but he wasn't dumb.

"Well, I'm here to listen if you want." John quickly added, distracting his friend.

-

"I'm just so bored. I mean, I'm feeling a bit blue." Roger couldn't decide how he really felt.

The younger man spoke a bit, "life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans."

That did make the drummer smile, he recognised the John Lennon song.

Both Freddie and Roger were big fans of the late singer.

-

Honestly, Roger was lacking in physical affection, his eyes had a hunger but at the same time looked disappointed. Perhaps in himself.

"Can I just.. Have some hugs..?" The blond haired man asked softly, hating how terrible he felt.

John nodded, giving his friend the needed embrace.

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Word count: 622