More than just a friend || Roger Taylor

43- it took years to unlove you

27th December 1980

An- don't hate me

Once I'd finally cleared my body of all the alcohol and unnecessary symptoms a hangover carried, there was only one thing left to occupy my mind- and after the kiss we shared in the snow by very much my own drunken fault, it was obviously Roger.

I couldn't decided wether the move I made was one right or wrong. At the time it seemed like the only answer, the only way to feed the desperate craving, but after coming down from the high of it and examining the real aftermath- I wasn't sure wether the addiction was one worth relying on again.

I enjoyed being Roger's friend. Not because it was better than being with him, because nothing would ever compare to that, but because I knew I couldn't get hurt again if I was only a friend. But I was guilty for wanting more than I should, especially when I was drunk and falling for a man so hard I couldn't hit the ground without at least one kiss.

The others didn't know what advice to give, especially Julian- who's jaw remained against the floor for the entirely of Christmas and Boxing Day. They had no idea what the next steps forwards supposedly were, and neither did me and Roger. We didn't have a clue.

We'd spent one call awkwardly discussing his day at his parents and mine spent throwing up on Julian's sofa last night, and agreed that maybe him coming over wasn't a bad idea, which is why I was curled up in his jumper with a heavy anticipation for the door to knock.

There was one thing I didn't want to happen, and surprisingly even through he was without a doubt the best I ever had, I didn't want to have sex with him. Mainly because I wanted to be reassured that wasn't what he was here for. I wanted to know this time, if there was gonna be a this time, he would care for me the way he said he would that night in Charlie's.

That if he did ever tell me that he loved me again and could never find a flaw to match me with, he would mean it instead of use it as a desperate hope I would sleep with him that night. Though it may have been my own fault for thinking a man who started off as just a friend I shagged on the side would've really loved me truly, I couldn't help but want it to be true. And if there was going to be a 'this time'... then it had to be.

Soon enough the door was rattled by the same hand that had last been cupping my cheek, a small nerve taking to my mind as I jumped up to answer it. I peeled the door back to of course find Roger smirking down at me, scratching the back of his neck as I smiled gently.

"Hiya." He mumbled almost, stepping through the door before I closed it, the cigarette that he had between his fingers managing to make its way between mine after i stole it from his hold. "Feeling better ?"

"Yeah... recovered from Christmas with your parents ?"

"Yeah." He huffed a little, laughing as we both slumped down onto the sofa. "I very unfortunately couldn't stop thinking about you..."

I released a cloud of grey between us rather than any words that may have eased Roger's nerves, stumping out the cigarette in the ash tray before the drummer inched closer towards me. He swiftly took my cheek in his palm, watching my expression dust with pink as our eyes glared into one another's- up until the moment they closed as our lips met.

His kisses were needy, desperate to feel my lips after being parted from them for so long. He didn't want to wait any longer for what he felt like he had for years, subtly pushing my frame back onto the sofa until I was laid beneath him with my hands tangled in his hair.

Our lips didn't dare to break, his hands travelling further down my figure as our kisses feel deeper with each passing second- until I pushed him back slightly, watching his expression become concerned.