angel | dealor

ten

The practise went well. So well, in fact, that a few more practises followed. Nothing of any substance happened during the first few, but once we'd figured each other out we began to play as a group and we were sounding pretty good. We would almost definitely smash that band contest.

"Rog, love. Do you want a drink?" Freddie asked, to which I nodded with a smile. John had set his bass down and come to stand behind me, massaging my shoulders. I closed my eyes and let my head fall forward, enjoying his touch.

"Thanks.." I mumbled to the younger boy, yawning. It was the Saturday of our third consecutive full weekend of rehearsing, as well as some days in the week. Frankly, I was getting a little sick of it. At the same time, I absolutely loved playing music with my three best friends. The drumming was getting to me - I could drum, but just wasn't quite at the needed level of fitness to drum the amount that I was doing. It was taking a toll on the muscles in my shoulders and arms, which John knew, so he'd taken to rubbing them whenever he could, like a sweetheart.

"S'okay. Anything for my angel," He said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the back of my neck. He'd taken to calling me that. His angel. In reality, I couldn't be further from angelic. It was something to do with the bullying - how I was like his guardian angel, coming in to save the day. The bullying hadn't stopped, we'd just found ways to curve it. I'd walk him to his first lesson every morning, then pick him up from his second lesson at the start of break, where he'd wait inside the classroom until he saw me. We did the same at lunch, and at the end of the day. So long as I was around to walk him to and from his classes, they didn't touch him. In a sense, maybe I was his guardian angel. I couldn't be there during movement time between lessons, but I just hoped that the four minutes the school gave us to get to the next class wasn't enough time for anything to happen. Nothing can happen in four minutes.

I smiled and slowly turned to face him, patting my lap. He sat down carefully, his legs either side of my body. His eyes met mine, and a wave of happiness crashed over my body. Every time I got to look into those beautiful eyes I was reminded of how lucky I was. How hard I was willing to try to not fuck this up. The younger boy laid his head down on my shoulder, his arms around my neck and mine around his waist, gently tracing patterns on his lower back with my fingertips. This was bliss.

"Get a room!" I heard from behind me, and I smiled as I carefully spun around in my seat.

"Shut up, May." I grinned, watching the two other boys enter the garage and walk over to their instruments. Well, Brian to his guitar. Freddie came over and handed me two bottles of water. "Oh, yeah. This isn't boring."

"It's the May household, Rog. No fizzy drinks in sight," Freddie pointed out, grinning at me.

"They're bad for your teeth!" Brian retorted, causing the three of us to burst into laughter. It was such a perfectly Brian thing for him to say.

We'd moved our practises to Brian's garage, rather than my living room. There was more space there, and it was far enough away from the other houses for us not to get any complaints. My mum had helped us move the drum kit, although it wasn't easy considering the slight size of her car.

"Here, John," I said, kissing him quickly before he had a chance to get off of my lap. He dropped his head as quickly as he could whilst he was moving, but it wasn't fast enough to hide the bright crimson flush that appeared on his skin. No matter how many times we kissed, the action still made him blush like a schoolgirl. It brought a smile to my face, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of him as he took the water bottle from my hand and headed back to his bass.

I was definitely falling in love with the boy.

"Freddie, hurry up and get ready to sing, or we'll have to replace you," Brian said after a while. The three of us were ready to play, and we were just waiting on the singer to fix his hair - not that anyone could see his hair, considering we were sat in a garage.

"You couldn't replace me, darling," Freddie replied, a grin forming on his lips. We probably could, but we'd struggle.

"Roger got a choir scholarship at a Cathedral scho- Ow!" My stick flew through the air and hit John on the back, earning me a cold glare from the boy. As cold a glare as he could give, which wasn't very cold at all. Imagine a marshmallow that someone had drawn an angry face on. All I could do was smile sheepishly and hold my hand out in hopes he'd pass it back.

"My hand slipped?" I offered. I could see his grumpy façade slipping, and eventually he cracked a laugh before passing it back, muttering something about hating me. Whatever.

"Wait. You can sing, Rog?" Freddie piped up.

Oh joy, here we go.

"I'm not brilliant, but, yeah.. I was in a choir," I laughed, shrugging. The choir was never anything serious, nor something I wanted to do. The school forced me to do it. Which insinuated I was at least okay, I guess.

"Stop being so modest. He's incredible. He'd probably give you a run for your money, Fred," John teased, grinning at me. I shook my head and gave him the bird, laughing at his feigned offence at the gesture. Part of me regretted singing to him.

"Whatever. We can discuss this later. Can we practise?"

a/n
Yikes this chapter isn't great and it's just a fluffy filler