Somebody To Love (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor fanfic)

seven

Roger followed Rebecca up the stairs to her flat, which was on the second floor of the building, leaning against the doorframe as she dug through her bag to find her keys. 

"Sorry," she smiled sheepishly, looking up at him, "They always end up in the worst place. Here, will you hold this?" 

Laughing, he took the bag from her, which allowed her to open it up better, sticking her hand in again and he couldn't help but notice that her tongue was sticking out the corner of her mouth. 

"Got them!" she finally said, turning to unlock her door, "Christ, I left the fire on." 

"It's August!" Roger couldn't help but say, making her laugh, "Oh, so you're one of those people." 

"Those people?" she asked, turning to raise an eyebrow at him. 

"Who's always cold," he said, holding up her bag again, "Where do you want this?" 

She waved a hand, "Just put it anywhere and make yourself at home." 

"Thanks," he murmured as she disappeared through into the kitchen and he took the time that he was alone for, to take a look around her flat. 

Overall, he liked it. It was perfect for just her, small with a little kitchen when you just came through the door on the left and on the other side of the room, there was a second door that probably led to her bedroom. 

She had a vast record collection; stuff like The Beatles, Led Zepplin, Fleetwood Mac and Pink Floyd - the classics, really and Roger moved on to looking at the photos that were scattered on the walls and sideboards. 

He was looking at one of her when she was younger and beside her, there was an older woman - probably her mother - and he was so concentrated in looking at it, that he didn't hear her return from the kitchen. 

"That's my mum," she said softly from beside him, "I think that was taken on my eighth birthday...yeah, it was. My dad had just left and despite us having nothing, it was one of the best days I'd ever had." 

Roger looked down at her to see her looking at the photo with furrowed brows and he wanted to kiss the creases away, "Why'd he leave? Wait, I'm sorry if that's..." 

"It's fine," she murmured, placing her hand on his arm again, "I don't really know why he left to be honest. Mum never told me and I never asked. It made her upset. I always heard them arguing when they thought I was sleeping and I guess he'd just had enough." 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I shouldn't have asked."

"Roger, it's fine. Last I heard, he had remarried and had a kid on the way." she then let out a little laugh, "Sorry, I'm being rude. Do you want a cup of tea or anything?"

"Sure," he nods, "Then I'll phone John." 

"Is that where this party is? Deaky's?" she asked, "Well, the phone's on the cabinet behind the couch, next to the record player."

He nods, momentarily forgetting that she can't see him, "Okay. Thanks again, Bex." 

"Bex?" she calls, appearing in the doorway for a brief couple of seconds, "No one's ever called me that before. I kinda like it." 

||-||

Rebecca was clearing up the cups and wrappers from the many biscuits Roger had consumed while he was finally on the phone to John - one hour later.

"What do you mean he said no?" he hissed into the receiver, glancing over his shoulder to see that Rebecca was still in the kitchen, "Stop being a wanker and ask him." 

"I don't have to ask him, Rog. He said as soon as he came in that if you phoned, which we knew you would, I was to tell you to either make your own way here or don't bother coming at all." John said on the other end of the line. 

"Put him on the phone, Deaky." 

"He's busy." 

"I swear-" Roger began but stopped when Rebecca came back through, "Fine. Tell Brian thanks for nothing." 

"I will pass the message on." 

"Everything okay?" she asked, sitting down on the couch, leaning her arm against the back of it to lean on it. 

"Brian won't come get me," Roger sighed, sitting down beside her. He sat so close that because of the way Rebecca was sat, her knees were pressing against his thigh. 

"See," she poked his arm, "If you hadn't walked me home, you would be there. Probably drunk and with a beautiful girl in your lap." 

"Impossible," he grinned as he placed his hand on her knee, "That couldn't happen if you weren't there." 

He marvelled in the fact that once again, he'd made her blush and she rest her hand on top of his, "Roger." 

"Rebecca," he whispered, leaning closer but she doesn't look up from their joined hands, "Bex." 

Finally, her gorgeous eyes met his and his free hand came up to cup the side of her face. She found herself leaning into his touch, noticing that he's leaning in ever closer.

"What about the party?" she breathed, his lips mere inches from hers. 

"I'd rather be here," he said, just as quiet and in the next moment, he's tilted her face to meet his and pressed his lips against hers.

She doesn't quite know what to expect when kissing him - he tastes like chocolate and there's a hint of smoke from the cigarette he's just smoked but she finds that she likes it. 

Her hand moved to the back of his neck when he attempted to pull away, and she opened her eyes to see that he's already looking at her with blazing eyes.

And all Roger can think, is finally.