PRETTY LOVER BOY - ROGER TAYLOR

XXII.

♛ ♛ ♛

Roger's curled completely around me when I wake up in the morning, arms securing me to his chest. I shift slightly against him and he groans, tucking me farther into him.

"It's bloody fucking cold in here," he says in that raspy morning tone that gets me every time.

"Feels great," I respond, tilting my head to the side so I can press a kiss to his bicep.

"Yeah, if you're a penguin," he quips, and I turn in his arms, facing him. His eyes are still screwed shut as I snake my arm up between us.

"Maybe if you'd put a shirt on it would warm you up." I begin to mindlessly draw shapes on his bare chest.

"I know what else would warm me up," I can hear the snarky look that must be on his face.

"I'm not doing shit in the bed I slept in as a kid," I push back a bit so I can look at him, groggy blue eyes now open and on me, hair tousled in just the right way.

"You're no fun," he sticks his bottom lip out and I just shake my head.

"Absolutely not, suck it up," I respond.

"Meany," his hands travel down, pinching my thigh.

"You're a child." He only sticks his tongue out at me, further proving my point.

We lie in bed a little longer than we normally would, tangled together in the bed sheets until the door to my bedroom bursts open, Noah and Sidney throwing themselves on to the bed as Freddie looks on from outside of the room.

"That's my stomach," I grunt, pushing them away so I can breath again. Roger throws the covers off of us and over the two of them, trapping them underneath. Shrieks and laughter erupt from under the duvet, both of them struggling to get out. Eventually, Roger releases them in their giggling mess, pulling each other to the floor in a desperate attempt to not roll off the mattress.

"It's breakfast time," Noah eventually manages, face flushed from all the laughing. I sit up, sliding off the bed and stepping over them.

"Alright, go on, we'll be down in a second," I shoo them out, Freddie grinning devilishly at me and I shake my head before shutting the door. Roger's getting out of bed as I turn around, stretching his arms over his head.

"A nightmare, the two of them," I say, walking over to him.

"They aren't all bad," he responds as I reach up, fixing his hair a bit.

"You really do have a lot of hair don't you?"
I run my fingers through it, gently pulling out any tangles.

"You like it," he replies with a cheeky grin and I shake my head.

After getting ourselves together, even through how distracted Roger kept getting and how much he was trying to distract me, we both head down stairs, enticed by the smell of whatever was made for breakfast.

"Hurry up you two, it's going to get cold," my grandma ushers us into the kitchen area.

"How did you sleep, honey?" I look back as I scrape some eggs on to my plate, expecting that she's talking to me but instead finding she's talking to Roger.