One Day in a Record Store • Roger Taylor

24

A/N: thank you for 4k reads!

Roger was awoken early the next morning by his own stomach and everything in it from the night before making its way out and into the garbage can Dylan had put next to where he was sleeping.

Dylan was awoken by the sound of Roger vomiting. She didn't really want to get out of bed since she felt so tired, but upon realizing no one else was up, she forced herself out of her bunk and made her way to the back lounge.

"Rog," she said as she lightly knocked on the door. All he did was grunt in response which she took as an okay for her to go in.

"Feeling like shit?" She asked as she sat next to him and he just nodded before leaning back over the garbage to puke some more, while Dylan held his hair back with one hand and rubbed his back comfortingly with the other.

"How much did I drink last night?" He asked her once he was finished.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "You weren't either though."

"Fuck," he mumbled, shutting his eyes as he leaned back against the couch. "I don't even remember coming back here."

"Do you remember anything?" She asked and he thought about it for a second before slowly shaking his head no.

"I remember getting there and sitting at the bar with you guys. Then it's kinda fuzzy. Then nothing," he told her and she just nodded in response, feeling a slight pang of disappointment at the realization that what he'd said to her the night before - about him not pretending to be her boyfriend - was just drunken gibberish.

But she brushed it off, not wanting him to notice and ask what was wrong.

"Well, it's just a travel day today so you can chill back here," she told him before reaching for the medicine and water she'd left the night before and handing it to him.

"Here, take this," she told him. "It'll make you feel at least a bit better."

"Thank you," he said as he took it from her. "You're too nice to me."

"Just trying to help," she told him with a light laugh.

"Why are there pillows everywhere?" He asked once he'd finished his water.

Dylan let out a laugh before replying. "I put them down in case you rolled off the couch."

"See what I mean?" He told her. "Too nice."

She let out another laugh before speaking again. "Do you want something to eat or anything? I can bring you some bread or something."

"Not right now, love. Thank you," he said. "Go to sleep. You're tired."

"I was up anyways," she lied. She would've pulled it off too had she not yawned.

"Sure you were," he joked.

"You're all sickly, Rog. I'm not gonna make you fend for yourself," she told him.

"Well, you're gonna have to because I feel bad," he replied.

"You can just owe me," she joked, making him roll his eyes.

"Fine then just nap here and I'll wake you up if I need something," he said as he put an arm around her.

"Why do I have a feeling you're not going to wake me up even if you need something?"

"That's your problem," he said with a laugh.

Despite her feelings that a) he was just going to let her sleep despite how shitty he felt and b) that he'd just been spewing gibberish the night before, his flirty manner and the appeal to being able to sleep some more took over as she leaned into him and felt her eyes get heavier by the second.