eleven

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  Le Drum Stick Twirl à la Roger Taylor  

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This is the first time that Rebecca has been to Roger's flat and the first thing she notices when he opens the door for her is that it's small. She also takes note of how it smells exactly like him; his aftershave along with a hint of cigarette smoke. 

And honestly, she thought it would be messier than it is but all he's got lying around is some clothes on the floor and a couple of empty beer bottles on the coffee table. 

She takes her time exploring, poking her head around the door of his kitchen and bathroom before turning her attention to his record collection - one which could put hers to shame and a few photographs that were piled next to a Polaroid camera. 

He was a little bit embarrassed by the place and really, he didn't know what possessed him to invite her over. 

In all honesty, the flat is a shithole. It's small, his neighbours are a bunch of arseholes and he's got damp in his bathroom. 

But seeing Rebecca's smile when she turns around relaxes him a little, although he can't tell if she's just being polite. 

"I like it." she finally announced and he snorted. 

"You don't have to lie to me." 

"I'm not!" she cried, hurt that he would even think that, "I don't know what it is about it...nothing matches and it's great!" 

Roger pulled his jacket off, "Do you want a drink?"

"Tea? If that's okay." 

"Sure," he nodded, scratching the back of his neck, "Just, um, make yourself comfortable." 

So that's what she does and by the time Roger returns with her cup of tea and a beer for himself, Rebecca's kicked her shoes off and is sitting comfortably in the old tartan armchair that he has and normally, he doesn't let anyone sit in that chair because it's his but he doesn't have the heart to ask her to move so once he hands her the tea, he sits on the couch.

"Wow," she sighed after taking a sip, "You make a good cuppa, Taylor." 

"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents. You should know that by now." 

She hides her smile by taking another sip of her tea, clearing her throat before looking at him again, "What happened when we left the pub?" 

"How do you mean?"

She gave him a pointed look, "You know what I mean. You didn't punch him and then clean yourself up before you came out, did you?"

"No," he said seriously, "Didn't mean I didn't want to hit him though. Besides, you'd already smacked him one. Which, by the way, was impressive. You've got some hand on you." 

"You should know." she threw his words back at him, a teasing grin on her face as he laughed, "Would you really have punched him?" 

"I would've," he nodded and she looked away from him, back into her mug. 

"Y'know, for a second, a moment even, I thought he was going to come for me. There was just something in his eyes." 

Roger's grip tightened on his bottle, "Then I would have killed him." 

Rebecca put her cup down on his table and got up, moving to stand in front of him and his legs automatically parted so she could stand between them and he looked up at her. 

"Thank you," she whispered, pushing some hair from his forehead, "For stepping in when you did."

He put the bottle down on and he placed his hands on her hips while hers lay on his shoulders.

"When I saw him kiss you," Roger whispered, resting his forehead against her stomach. "I..." he trailed off at the feeling of her hand toying with the hair on the back of his neck, "If he'd touched you." 

Rebecca let out a small gasp when he suddenly pulled her onto his lap and his thumbs were gently stroking the exposed skin of her legs from where her skirt had ridden up.

"But he didn't," she finally whispered, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. 

He pressed the lightest of kisses to the corner of her mouth before looking at her again and she swore that if she were standing, it would have floored her. Though, thinking about having to go into work tomorrow worried her. 

And Roger could tell, "Something else is bothering you." 

She shrugged and toyed with his hands, "I just...I have to go to work tomorrow and," 

"He'll be there," he guessed.

"Yes," she nodded, "And I dunno, guess I'm just worried." 

"Hey," he placed his finger under her chin and made her look at him, "If he does anything and I mean anything, to make you feel uneasy, give us a ring. I'll come get you." 

"You don't have to do that," she tried to say but he was shaking his head before she'd even finished her sentence. 

"I do," he said quietly, "Can't have my girl feeling uncomfortable, can I?" 

"Your girl?" she squeaked and the side of his mouth pulled up in a smile. 

He nodded. 

The way he was looking at her, it was as if she was the only woman in the world and his eyes fell shut when she leant in to kiss him.

"Roger," she whispered as he pressed a series of kisses across her cheek to her ear then down her neck. 

"Mhmm?" he hummed, pulling back to look at her once more. 

Her hands toyed with the collar of his shirt, "Can we go to bed?" 

He made her stand, following seconds later and she giggled when his hands secured around her thighs to lift her and she was quick to wrap her legs around him.

"We can definitely do that."  

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