Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy (JoeMazzello!JohnDeacon fanfic)

forty three

That night, John is just about finished his book when there's a quiet knock on his room door. He glances at the small clock on the side table, seeing that it reads eleven-thirty. He's been reading a lot longer than he thought.

Tossing the book off to the side, he gets up. He has a feeling he knows who it is and when he opens the door, he sees that her suspicions are correct.

"Hi," Roxanne is grinning up at him, looking ridiculously cute in some sausage dog pyjamas and he crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame as he looks up and down the hall to see that there are no other guests -or her parents- around, "What are you doing?"

"Well," she ducks past him into the room, "Since you wouldn't come see me, I thought I'd better take things into my own hands."

When she starts pulling his shirt over her head, he quickly closes the door, turning to her again in time to see her tugging one of his on.

"And what if your mum or dad come looking for you?"

"Oh please," she waves a hand as she climbs up onto his bed, "They're probably dead to the world right now. Besides, I'm twenty-two years old. Are you really going to make me spend the evening of my birthday all on my lonesome?"

John rolls his eyes as she pouts but locks the door again before joining her, lifting up an arm once he's resting against the headboard.

"Dad likes you," she repeats her words from earlier on as she slings a leg over his to get comfortable.

"What makes you say that?" he enquires, raising an eyebrow.

"He's said more to you in the past two days than he's spoken to Roger in five years." when he looks at her disbelievingly, she smiles, "Alright, slight exaggeration but it's somewhat true! He does speak more to you than him and he's his nephew."

"Rog can be a bit...much," John mumbles as he makes sure she's covered by the blankets, "But your dad seems interested in the band. You should bring it up whenever they next meet."

"Maybe," she nods, toying with the end of his shirt, "What do you want to do tomorrow? It's supposed to be dry so I was thinking we could take a walk along the beach. There's this neat little cave I want to show you."

"That sounds interesting," he nods and she grins, pushing herself up so she can kiss him.

This kiss starts off innocent enough; he's got his hand resting gently on her cheek but when she moves so she's sat on his lap, he pulls back, lips twitching when she lets out a groan.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Because it's going to lead to something else," John whispers, kissing her cheek, "And I don't know about you but I don't particularly want your parents to overhear."

Roxanne sighs but backs down. He's right. She'd be mortified and John, bless him, he would probably have an aneurysm.

"You're right," she nods, "But believe it or not, I didn't come in here to have my way with you."

"Oh really?" he raised a disbelieving eyebrow and she nods.

"I just wanted to spend time with you."

"We've spent the whole day in the city together!"

Her eyes narrowed, "Are you getting sick of me, John?"

"Come off it," he laughs softly, "Never could get sick of you."

"That's what I like to hear," she grins.

"Well if you didn't come here to have your way with me," John watches her as she inches closer to his lips, "What did you come here for?"

"I told you!" she whispered, "To spend time with you. Maybe make out a little."