Chapter 6
You were walking around London again, back in your old ways. But this time, you're not alone. By your side, holding your hand, in black leather pants and a loose maroon shirt, is Roger. It's been a month since the first time you kissed.
And it's been exciting, so far. You're both still fascinated by each other, that phase in a relationship where the other person says something funny or smart and you just think F uck, I can't believe I found you. There's a world full of people and we managed to meet because everything is still so intense. It wouldn't be correct to say that you were both seeing each other through rose colored glasses; no, your glasses oversaturated everything. Your cute moments were really cute, but your rough, sexual moments were the rougher you've ever had.
You thought to yourself months ago that Roger would be good in bed; it was, in fact, one of the first things you thought about him. And you were right. But he also had a soft, domestic side you didn't really expected, but enjoyed. You could be riding him, his hand bruising your buttcheeks as he slapped your ass, your voice raspy as you moaned his name, at 9pm, and at 10 you'd both be on his living room, the TV turned on, you finishing a book for class, drinking a cup of tea he made you, trying to convince you to have it with milk "as british people would", and he'd be with his head on your lap, half asleep, his eyes staring at the TV as you ran your fingers through his hair.
Now you were both on your way to an empty classroom in Imperial College. Roger invited you to watch Queen rehearse, and you were excited. You were seeing each other nearly every day, and you spent time together even when doing everyday stuff; you'd even spent some afternoons on his stall in Kensington, trying to finish a paper as you both talked about your childhoods, your first times, what music he was listening to. You'd stop when a customer got in, and if it was a woman, she would usually hit on him, and you'd wink at him when he looked at you, trying to see if you were annoyed or jealous.
But you weren't - it was almost something that made you proud, because you were once another customer flirting with him, but it was you that he would fuck later that night, and it was you he called when he felt stressed after a bad writing session with the band, his voice tense as he asked you to talk about your day or which songs were playing in your prom, anything that could distract him.
You didn't officialize your relationship, there was no binding, no promise of exclusivity, but you were spending so much time together that you doubted he was seeing anyone else. But him taking you to a rehearsal made you wonder if he planned to make it more serious. The rehearsals were one of the only moments you didn't spend together.
You were both at his couch, him only in his boxers, you wearing just panties and one of his button ups, sharing a cigarette and watching Doctor Who, when he told you about the rehearsal the next day. "Sure", you said, thinking he was subtly telling you that he wouldn't be able to see you the next afternoon. "Do you want to come? I know it's not a show, so I understand if you want to skip. But I think we've been sounding really good; we have this new bass player, and he's the best we've had so far-" and he continued to talk about how you could actually enjoy the rehearsal, and you realised he was rambling. He was nervous, for some reason. You thought that maybe this was a big step for him.
"Of course I'll go. I've been dreaming about you banging those drums for months, you know. That's my chance", you said, and you could see his shoulders relaxing. "Good. I hope I give you some more material for when you're alone", he said, and grabbed the cigarette from your fingers.
"I don't know why you like this. It used to be better a few years ago, when the Doctor travelled around galaxies and stuff. Now he's stuck on Earth", he complained, and stretched his legs over the coffee table. "I like the way he speaks. I think it's pretty soothing. And I like his companion, Jo Grant. She looks cool", you said, leaning onto his shoulder.
"But she's not really smart, though. The one before her, Liz Shaw, was smarter, but still looked cool. I recently found out I like girls that can do both", he said, wrapping his arms around you. "And why is that?", you asked, but you knew the answer. "Well, I think you raised my standards", he answered with a chuckle. "You're such a flirt", you said, and kissed his neck.
"Shit, I marked you again", you realised. "It's okay. It really goes with the rockstar look, don't you think? I like it", he answered, and started to pay attention to the show again. You always left love marks on each other; sometimes you wondered if it was really by accident. You thought once that maybe you left marks on each other's skin the same way a kid would write his name on his favourite toy; maybe if you lost touch again, it would be easier to re encounter, since there was evidence you belonged to one another, at least for a small period of time.
Your arrival at the college made you wake up from your daydreaming. You've been silent for the last few minutes, and Roger was humming a song to himself. The silent wasn't uncomfortable; you were now used to being around each other, and sometimes you were quiet, just enjoying being together.
He moved his hand to the small of your back as he guided you to the classroom Brian got for them to rehearse. He seemed a bit nervous, so you stopped yourself from making any snarky remarks. And you arrived at the classroom.
You could recognize two of the man standing in the room; the first was Brian, who you still remembered from the only time you watched Roger perform, and the other was Freddie, who you met in your afternoons at Kensington. The other one seemed younger than you, his long brown hair covering some of his face. Roger said it took some time for him to feel comfortable around people he didn't knew, and you respected that.
"Hey, Y/N. Good to see that you and Roger stopped fucking like rabbits enough for you to catch a rehearsal" Freddie said, coming closer and hugging you. "Maybe you should start the sexual jokes after I'm introduced to the rest of band?", you joked, and Roger laughed along with the others.
"So Y/N, this is Brian, he's the only person I know that is as smart as you", Roger said, holding your waist as you both walked closer to the tall guitarist. "Well, thank you, Roger" Brian said, and Roger mumbled "Don't get used to it" the same time Brian said "Nice meeting you, Y/N. So you're the reason Roger's mood been sucking less recently?", and you laughed. "I don't know, he's been nothing but a ray of sunshine ever since I first saw him. Nice meeting you too", you said, both of you teasing Roger.
"And this is Deacy, the bass player", he said, at the same time he said "Hey" to you. "Hey, Deacy", you answered, and Roger took you to one of the chairs, all in one side of the room, and set in a way you could enjoy the band as if it was a private show.
"I hope you like it" he said, leaning closer to your lips. "I'm gonna love it", you said, leaning in and giving him a peck on the lips.
And you did. You recognized "Doing Alright", the only song you really watched them perform, and they were all in tune, no pauses for adjustments in the middle on the song. Then there was a few others you didn't know, but you enjoyed them as well; they sounded experimental, but the songs also had something epic in them - you felt like they would be appropriate as soundtracks for movies, the amount of world building potential in them surprising you. There was a song that encapsulated that feeling, something about Seven Seas, but they could barely play it; Freddie was always unsatisfied with the way it sounded. "It's not ready yet, darling", he told you as Brian tried to play the guitar the way he wanted.
Roger looked especially hot when playing a song you supposed was called Keep Yourself Alive, judging by the way the phrase was repeated in the chorus. There was a small drum solo, his concentrated frown during it making you want to fuck him right there, and when he sang the phrase "Do you think you're better every day?", he looked at you, and you smirked at him.
His rockstar façade was so casual and devil-may-care that it was driving you mad. You kept biting your lips every time you started to really pay attention at Roger, and you were reminded of how he could make such a long lasting impression on you just by playing the drums.
And by the time they were playing the last song in the setlist, an impeccable cover of Jailhouse Rock, you were turned on. Roger's chest was glimmering with sweat, just like it would when you had sex, and you crossed your legs, trying to distract yourself - look at Freddie singing, look at Brian playing the guitars, look at Deacy and his bass, look at anything but Roger. You technically still had to get home before being able to do anything about it.
So after they were done, Roger got up as you did the same, the both of you meeting in front of his drum kit. "Did you like it?" he asked, still a bit out of breath. "I loved it", you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a quick kiss on his lips. "You guys were amazing. When is the next show?", you asked, now talking to the rest of the band as well.
"Next month. You're coming, right?", Freddie asked you. "There's no way I'm missing it", you answered, and they started to pack some of their instruments. The heavier ones were allowed to stay in an empty janitor's closet on the corridor outside, and that included the drums.
They would usually stay and help Roger, but you said you could do it, and they left the two of you in the room. You watched as Roger sat on the stool, probably about to start packing the drums, but you quickly moved there and sat on his lap, your face inches away from him.
He smirked as you grabbed his hair by the base of his neck and pulled you closer to him, moving his hands through your body, setting one of them on your waist and the other one on your hips. "You look pretty hot playing the drums. Made me remember why I didn't forget your face for months", you said, placing a lingering kiss on his lips.
"Took you long enough. I remember why I kept thinking of you everytime I look at you", he said, outflirting you. You were always competing, it seems, who can be a more obvious, cheesy, ironic flirt.
You got up, turned around and sat on his lap again. "Teach me something", you said, and he chuckled. "Sure", he said while grabbing the drumsticks. He moved his hands through your sides before extending them over your arms and placing the drumsticks on your hands. He started to hit the drums slightly, a simple beat, moving the drumsticks as he moved your hands.
That's when he decided to lean himself completely onto you, pressing himself onto your body, his lips ghosting on the skin of the curve of your neck, before propping his chin there. You felt a shiver on your back, and you dropped one of the drumsticks. He laughed as you got up, but you didn't pick the drumstick as he expected. You turned back around and sat on his lap.
"You already gave up on our class?" He said as you started to kiss his neck, holding him by the collar on his shirt. "I'll ask for another one later", you said moving your hands down to the hem and pulling his shirt up, kissing his lips. You then broke the kiss as you realised the door was unlocked.
"Shit", you said, and you started to move up, but Roger's strong hands held you down. "What?" he asked. "The door's unlocked", you said, motioning up again, but he held you down. "So what? The college is technically closed", he said, smirking and moving his hands down your skirt, pushing your panties to the side, his fingers convincing you to forget about the unlocked door, a moan leaving your lips.
"I need you to come to every rehearsal if it leaves you like this", his voice already sounding out of breath, and you smirked at him. You really hoped he would.