More than just a friend || Roger Taylor

36- this reminds me of old times

1st November 1980

I woke up the following morning with an ache in my head I partly expected, my memories of the party slightly vivid after me and Roger finally left our spot in the garden when the wind got too cold for us to enjoy the peacefulness of it.

Despite everything else our past held, I really did have a nice night with Roger. Even dancing to the song I'd heard all those lies to, I somehow still enjoyed every second of the moment knowing I'd treasure the memories of that certain Halloween. I liked the time I spent with Roger, now that I knew everything between us had to be true, it was nice. It was simple in the moment, but we both knew it was all far too complicated to think about.

I tried to place my last memory of the night, trying to  recall any detail that would assist me into placing where exactly I was that morning, but the last thing I remember was Freddie, John and Brian all drunkenly yelling at Roger about whatever joke they had between them as the blonde sat besides me on the sofa with his arm draped around me and my head leant on his shoulder. 

I stretched out underneath the covers, my eyes opening fully to find I wasn't exactly by myself. I soon realised the cover keeping my warm and pillow beneath my head weren't mine, and the sheets underneath me held another frame.

"Fuck fuck fuck." I mumbled, sitting up right as my eyes widened looking at the watch on my wrist to notice it was almost midday. My hands tried to push their way back through my hair, soon deciding to cover my face when the ache seemed to suddenly hit me harder.

I let out a loud sigh, looking back down at the frame besides me as they laid fast asleep, lips slightly pursed and eyes shut gently, their hair in a rough mess that looked maybe too perfect.

"Roger... you gotta get up." I nudged him gently, slightly disturbing the blonde, but not enough to wake him up. I nudged him again, this time slightly harder than last, which I knew managed to wake him up from the groan I was met with. "Roger... what the fuck happened ?"

I had no memory of even coming back to Roger's place, which of course meant I had absolutely no detail to recall which would lead me to the conclusion of why I woke up in his bed that morning. I didn't wake up in his spare bed, or his sofa, or his bedroom floor for that matter- I woke up besides him with his arms wrapped around me and my head resting against his chest I wasn't exactly thrilled about being bare.

"What ? What's u-" he paused as he sat up right, his eyes adjusting to the scene around him, which only caused them to widen. We were both sat up, glaring at one another with panic, both too scared to move the slightest inch underneath the covers in case we discovered something that would answer the question we both had plaguing our minds. "Fuckkkkkkk..."

"Yeah. Fuck. I don't even remember coming back to yours... it's like midday."

"Midday ? Jesus Christ." Roger put his hands on his head and fell back against the pillows behind him, a loud sigh as he remembered his shirt from last night had been tossed onto the floor. "I remember you wanting to get a cab... and then you said let's just go back to yours, and I obviously agreed, but I remember nothing after getting out the taxi."

"Well..." I glanced around the room, noticing empty bottles stacking on top of Roger's dresser, which explained the pounding headache I expected us to both have. "We definitely had more than one drink when we got back here."

"Did we ? I mean... you don't think we did ? I mean surely we weren't that drunk." He turned to face me, lips scrunched into one another as I nervously lifted the covers, chuckling with maybe too much relief when I noticed last night's skimpy dress was still tightly clinging to my frame.

"I have literally no idea why we ended up falling asleep in the same bed... but I don't think we..."

"Well..." he peaked under the covers on his side of the bed and sighed with relief. "I'm still fully dressed from the waist down, including socks, and the ashtray's empty, which would've had atleast two cigs in if we fucked... and our sex was always pretty fucking amazing so I like to think I'd remember."