More than just a friend || Roger Taylor

34- never missed anyone more

22nd October 1980

Tw- mentions of abuse, drug use, injury

I woke up that morning, or realistically afternoon, in a lot more pain than I'd anticipated, drowning in Roger's jumper in the middle of his spare bed. It didn't dawn on me really how ridiculous the situation was until I woke up. My hands were covered in cuts after stupidly smashing them into broken glass, my relationship had completely ended, and the only person that knew was my ex. And I'd decided to stay with him for the night.

I stretched out maybe too dramatically before slowly getting out of bed, making my way down the stairs towards where I assumed the drummer would be. Not a single detail about his place had changed, the entire house seemed as if it hadn't been lived in for two years. But knowing he'd been tangled in the depths of his career, it didn't exactly shock me that he hadn't had the chance to change the place up.

"How you feeling ?" Roger must of heard my footsteps as they came down the stairs, because his frame wound up stood at the bottom of them before i was. His expression held a certain worry that he managed to imbed behind a small smile as I nodded a little.

"It could be worse I think." I chuckled, holding out both hands in front of him, watching as he winced slightly as if he'd felt the pain. The cuts seemed much softer now, not as deep now that the blood was clear of them and the worse of them had been quite literally sewn together.

"Yeah... I suppose you could have no hands. Saying that, I think chopping them off might of been more beneficial to you." He brushed his thumb over the left one with a concern that he didn't seem to hide well as he clicked his tongue. "It's like... almost one in the afternoon though surely you're bound to be hungry ?"

"I'm alright to be honest..." I shrugged, following closely behind him as he walked through to the kitchen I remember us spending many mornings in. "I erm, I don't suppose you could give me a lift to Connie's ? I would ask you to drop me to Julian's but he'll be working no doubt."

"Yeah course." He nodded as I hopped up onto the counter behind him, watching as filled the kettle with water and placed it on top of the stove. "I was erm, wondering, even though it's not the most convenient time to ask, if you wanted to come to Freddie's party... on Halloween ? He kinda wants you there."

"You're inviting your ex to a Halloween party ?" I giggled as he nodded with a little serious twang in his expression. My face sat with my eyes brows raised slightly higher than I'd anticipated them to be, only a little smile trying to peak through.

"It's weird really... that you're my ex. It's just, I dunno what it is. But I do know that any party hosted by Freddie Mercury is one worth going to. And you've gotta dress up."

"Yeah, that'd definitely an offer I'm gonna have to think about." I laughed again as he nodded, turning on his heel to face me. As soon as our eyes met I thought of the moment years ago that me and him spent in almost the same position, and how gently his lips would meet mine. I couldn't recall the feeling anymore. It was so long ago I couldn't describe the sensation the touch of his lips would cause.

"I thought you'd say that. But, everything else aside, how are you feeling ?" Roger stepped only an inch closer, my stomach deciding to surprise me with a flutter of butterflies when his eyes dropped down and then looked back up at mine. The second I was reunited with the blue pair I realised how much I'd missed them over the years. And how the craving was going to scarily come back.

"Yeah... um, I don't even know. Shocked. Confused. It's all a bit sudden, give it a week and I'll be drinking myself to death when it all finally hits me."

"Well I'd prefer it if that didn't happen." He chuckled, his lips in a smile so gentle I couldn't help but let my cheeks blush. He noticed a small strand of hair that had fallen in front of my face, and decided to push it back behind my ear almost too gently. I remembered the way he did that before, and I realised I didn't have any other hand to compare it to. It was never like Nathan did any acts as gentle or simple as Roger seemed to.