Somebody To Love (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor fanfic)

fifty nine

Rebecca sighed, resting her head on her hand. The first couple of weeks here were fun, but now she was bored. There was nothing for her to do here and if anything, she just felt like she was getting in everybody's way. 

At around five, the band came back into the house except Roger, who Brian said was staying in the studio to practice for tomorrow, which is when they'd record the drums since the overdubs took so fucking long  (John's words, not hers) and so Rebecca dishes up a plate of food for him and heads for the door. 

Her plan was to just drop in the plate and leave again but when she enters, he's in the middle of playing; eyes closed, cigarette hanging from his mouth and in his own little world and she finds herself sitting down in the sound mixer's chair. 

She enjoys watching him play. He's so concentrated and he makes these little faces that she loves because he doesn't realise that he's doing it; like he'll pout or he'll bite down on his lip when he's doing a particularly intense solo. 

She snaps out of her daze when the drumming comes to an abrupt end, hearing Roger swear and toss one of his sticks off to the side before he's running his hands over his face and opening his eyes. 

She gives him a little wave while he smirks at her, making her roll her eyes. 

He's such a cocky little shit sometimes, he knows that she likes watching him play. He's not stupid. He sees what it does to her sometimes.

He nods his head, signalling for her to come into the booth and she doesn't need any more invitation than that, the plate of food forgotten. 

"You sound good," she says quietly, "But you already know that, don't you?"

"I do," he shrugs, "Though it's always nice to hear it. Come here,"

"I only came in to bring you some food," she mumbles. 

"Come here," he instructs again, "Think it's time for your next lesson, don't you?"

Rolling her eyes, she moved to sit on his lap, picking up the stick that he'd launched before doing so. 

"What were you playing?" she asks as she sits down, "Is that for Freddie's song?"

He shakes his head, "It's my song."

"The car song which I still haven't heard?" she asked.

"It has a name, love, but yes."

Rebecca tapped the bass drum's pedal, "I can't really imagine Freddie singing about being in love with a car."

"Then it's a good thing Freddie isn't singing on the track then, isn't it?"

"Oh," she hummed, "Makes sense. You are a bit strange with your car."

"Not you too," he groans, resting his forehead against her back. 

"I mean, you won't let me touch it. Or drive it."

"You can't drive!"

"You said you'd teach me!" she said loudly, turning around so she could look at him. 

That's true. He did say that. 

"And I will," he promised, "Just not in that car."

Pouting, she toyed with some of his hair and unable to help himself, he leans in to give her a kiss, which made her smirk. 

"I'm not having sex with you in here."

His mouth fell open, "I never said anything about having sex. Get your mind out of the gutter, Miss Jackson."

"You never said anything but the fact that I can feel you getting hard underneath me says differently."

He shrugs and gives her a toothy grin, "It knows what I want."

"Sometimes I think you really are insatiable," she whispers against his lips. 

"Only when I'm around you." 

"Ridiculous," she mutters but kisses him softly.

He rolls his hips which makes her gasp and the grip she has on his shoulders, tighten. 

"Roger," she warns, "Don't," 

He knows she won't do anything with the potential risk of being caught by the guys. Being caught by Brian will do that to a person...but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy teasing her. 

"I've never had you like this before," he hums, resting his hands on her waist, making her look at him again, "On top. That's something we'll have to try."

"Okay," she huffed, quickly climbing off of him, dancing out of his way when he reaches for her, "I'm leaving now before you start something we can't finish."

"We could always finish it," he shrugs, standing up from his stool, "Come on, love."

But she stays strong, shaking her head as she moved for the door, "No. I am not scarring the rest of your band mates."

Roger smiles and follows her out of the booth, picking up the plate that she'd put down as she scurries out the door, "You know where to find me if you change your mind!"

"Don't count on it, Taylor!"