Roses in December

Twelve

The last relationship Roger remembered in full was with a girl named Lydia. She had red hair and big tits. She was loud and brash and so very full of herself. Roger and she didn't fit well at all and the relationship crumbled easily enough. Roger wasn't sad about it, as he knew there would be others out there for him; more fish in the sea as they.

Now, many years later, Roger had found someone else, just as he knew he would. Someone far, far different from his uni girlfriend. John wasn't a redhead and he didn't have big tits, or any tits actually. He wasn't loud, he wasn't brash, and he wasn't full of himself in the least. He was proper and sweet. He could be snarky if he wanted to and have as much attitude as one would expect from a rockstar.

Roger tried to find a good middle ground in what he remembered being imitated with another and what be was currently meant to be doing with John. The brunet was truly a blessing, as he hadn't pushed Roger in the days to come. If anything, it was Roger who continued to take the next step.

They were a couple, were they not? Couples should be kissing and going out on dates. Couples were meant to share a home and a bed. John had tried to keep the distance, and Roger knew why. While it was nice that the blond was beginning to come around, there was still a piece of him missing and Roger knew that John feared what would happen if this backfired. If somehow, someway, Roger didn't feel the connection they once felt.

John couldn't afford to get his hopes up and that was what hurt Roger most of all. Knowing this wonderful man who loved and supported him oh so very much was so willing to push his own feelings aside so Roger could have time to adjust.

They had done little things, with the approval of the man. Kissing had quickly become something of a second nature for them, greeting one another with a soft peck that later on would turn into a complete snog session.

Roger knew people who liked to experiment back in university; with the belief of free love high up in the air, it wasn't unlikely for him to stumble upon something a bit out of the ordinary. Roger had never thought about getting involved with such things, and yet he found himself completely at ease with settling down with John on the couch, his arms wrapped around the skinny man as they kissed and kissed.

Things had gone a bit south a time or two, with their bodies reacting in the only proper way one could imagine. Roger had stopped cold, pulling away when he felt himself growing hard at the way John's hand felt on his knee, despite how simple it seemed.

John didn't seem worried, or angry, or even annoyed. He would whisper again and again that it was fine. Utterly and completely. He would pat Roger's shoulder the way you would a friend after their football team lost the big game and hurried on out of the room to take care of himself, leaving Roger a way that he couldn't describe.

He was turned on, that much was obvious and even if he didn't fully understand why Roger would never deny it. John may not have been women, but he was gorgeous in his own way. Pretty smile with bright eyes. Wonderful hips that jutted out in a way that always seemed to catch Roger's attention. Slim body with a pert bottom. He wasn't leggy like Brian, but he could hold his own well enough. John was beautiful and sexy without even trying and Roger wasn't going pretend like he wasn't.

Perhaps it was just the way he was raised, shoved in a small town where swishy boys who took it were meant to be stoned and beaten. Where old rules in a shitty book were used against you. Roger hadn't cared about rules much and to be honest, he didn't care about it now.

Religion had never been very important to him and he didn't really care about what other people thought. He wanted to kiss John because he was lovely, and yet even now when he had come to realize that he wanted to, he wasn't able to. There had been a day when they went into town. Freddie wanted to meet up for brunch and enjoy the day together — not as the band, but just as mates.