Feelings Long Buried - Roger Taylor

April 1976

Warning: Slightly smutty

It was gentle at first, enough to allow them to melt into the other person. The drunken glow surrounding them lit the kiss up in a beautiful way. Roger's hands instinctively wrapped around her waist gently, tenderly even, and sparks lit up her skin in their wake. She blamed the alcohol for that. Y/N's fingers found themselves tracing over his jawline and combed back through his hair. Roger blamed the booze for the moan that almost slipped out.

Their tongues quickly introduced themselves, and that's what it took for their bodies to erupt in flames. There was this want, this need for the other person, that neither Roger nor Y/N could ignore.

Roger's experienced hands danced down to her thighs and pulled Y/N into his lap. He could feel her smirking against his lips at the action. She clearly wasn't fazed by his cocky attitude at this point in their friendship, which was a relief.

Friendship... The word started to echo in his head. Friends, she's your friend he kept thinking. But the more Y/N grinded onto his lap, the less he thought of her as that. He was far too intoxicated to talk himself out of this.

Y/N's hands gripped Roger's shirt, ultimately pulling it over his head, and she was almost embarrassed at how desperate she seemed. Roger didn't seem to care, quite the opposite actually, as he unbuttoned her shirt just as quickly. She couldn't help but groan slightly seeing his shirtless torso, and bulge in his jeans. He started placing wet kisses down her jaw, neck, and shoulder, nipping at her skin occasionally. Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair again, encouraging every kiss. As Roger pushed her shirt off her shoulders, he finally pulled back for long enough to gaze at Y/N.

His eyes trailed over her hungrily and admiringly at the same time. "Bloody hell, Y/N..." Roger's fingers traced over her collarbone and chest like he had to touch her to assure himself she was really in front of him. Then the reality set in. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he slurred gently. 

Y/N's eyes found his through his eyelashes and she saw only authenticity in the question. "Yes," she whispered. Roger cracked a smile at her response and his gaze was instantly pulled back down to her chest. She chuckled. Classic Rog. "Are you just going to stare or are you going to do-" Y/N started to tease, but she quickly ate her words. Roger's teeth tugged off her bra strap as his hand went around to unhook it. Y/N was frankly impressed. Drunk, one-handed, and in one try? He certainly lived up to his reputation.

She quickly shook her head at the thought. Though it helped distract her when he sucked a hickey on the curve of her breast. A light moan left her lips and Roger swore it was music to his ears. He hadn't been with anyone in a few weeks (a rarity for him), but he could've sworn he hadn't been that turned on before. It must've been the booze...

Almost on auto-pilot, Roger swiftly turned and swung Y/N onto her back. As he grabbed the button of her jeans, he looked up for any indication he should stop, but only saw Y/N biting her lip and glancing to him expectantly. With her help, Roger slid her jeans down her legs before admiring her once again. He'd always found her attractive, he had eyes after all, but this was different. It was much more intimate of an attraction.

Despite how insecure she'd been feeling for the past few hours, Y/N somehow felt completely comfortable in front of Roger like this. It had to have been the liquid courage. What else could it be?

Roger peppered kisses down her stomach, ultimately bringing her back to reality, and Y/N's eyes fluttered closed. Her hand found his blonde locks again, like a reflex at that point, and she reveled in the feeling of the cool kisses on her burning skin. It felt so good it should be wrong.

Wait, it was wrong. They're friends, she just got out of a year and a half long relationship, and they just consumed way too much alcohol. All the reasons why they shouldn't be doing this rang out in Y/N's mind, but as Roger started to suck a hickey onto her inner thigh, her body's need for him screamed much louder. As his lips traveled higher, Y/N knew she should probably tell him to wait, but she said quite the opposite.