He Makes Me (Queen AU)

Chapter 50

The ride to the dormitory was the most quiet of them all. Brian had lost himself in his own thoughts, leaving Roger to focus on his cigarette, testing himself on how much nicotine he could draw before bursting into a fit of coughs. Each time he choked, he earned a side-eyed glance from the curly-haired student, but the latter refrained from commenting, only allowing the occasional, small grin to curl his lips in amusement before the former would look over at him, sending his attention back to the road and wiping the smile from his face.

When they arrived at the university, Brian had hoped to catch Roger before he got out of the car, but when he turned to stop him, the blonde had already opened the door and was stepping out of the vehicle, dropping his cigarette—not the first one, or the second, but the third—onto the ground and extinguishing it with the toe of his worn-out trainer. The guitarist ran a nervous hand through his hair, getting out of the car himself and following Roger into the building that was once so lively, with students flowing in and out of the common areas and crowding the halls in exclusive cliques. It had since turned into a ghost town, with only a few lingering souls, all collecting the last of their belongings.

The curly-haired student trailed behind the blonde, trekking the stairs that led up to the top floor where the latter had roomed. His dorm was at the end of the long, deserted hallway, and their footsteps echoed as they pushed through the empty corridor. There were only a few boxes left for them to take—the rest of the room cleared out. The walls were bare, the beds were dismantled, and the tapestry that hung from the window and colored the dorm in a faded array of reds, oranges, browns, and blues was taken down, illuminating the room with a blinding brightness.

Brian leaned against the threshold with squinted eyes as Roger entered the room, bending down to stack the boxes atop one another. Pressing his hand to his forehead to obtain a clearer view, the guitarist's eyes trailed down the drummer's spine and landed on the exposed skin between the hem of his tank top and the waistline of his jeans. His own jeans shrunk in size again, and without really thinking, he blurted out, "Is it really not that different?"

Roger turned his head over his shoulder, tucking his longer hair behind his ear. "Is what really not that different?"

"You know," the curly-haired student muttered embarrassedly, tipping his head down and scuffing his shoes on the weathered flooring. "What you did with the clerk."

The blonde smirked, standing up. "What, you mean stealing a few beers and cigarettes from him?"

"No, not that," the guitarist groaned, his cheeks burning as the distance between them began to disappear. The closer the drummer got, the tighter the guitarist's jeans grew, and the thinner the air became. "The other thing."

"What other thing?"

Brian could tell by the smile crawling across Roger's face that he already knew what he was referring to. He was just toying with him, pushing his buttons in hopes of hitting the right one that would get him to say what he didn't want to.

"I didn't kiss him, Brian," the blonde revealed when his friend didn't answer, tauntingly biting his lip and tugging at the bottom of the curly-haired student's shirt before suggesting, "But if you want..."

The guitarist abruptly turned his cheek to the drummer, leaning back and looking down the hallway void of life. When he saw the coast was clear, he glanced back at his bandmate.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

Roger chuckled, flashing him his brilliant smile. "Of course not. Who am I going to tell?"

Brian shrugged, playing with the free buttons on his shirt. "I don't know...Chrissie, maybe?"

"I'm not going to tell Chrissie, Brian," the blonde promised, holding up a pinky finger. "In fact, I won't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret."