Somebody To Love (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor fanfic)

fifty eight

All the way back down to the farmhouse, Roger would periodically raise their linked hand to his mouth so he could kiss the ring that adorned her finger and every time he did it, they would grin at each other like idiots.

She'd said yes.

He'd known she would say yes but that didn't mean that he didn't feel like he was going to be sick while waiting for her to answer.

Rebecca frowned when he suddenly pulled her to a halt just outside the house, "What's wrong?"

"I had a speech prepared," he said quietly, "I-Christ, I didn't even ask you properly."

"I don't care," she whispered, resting her hands on his chest as she gazed up at him, "I don't care, Roger. It was perfect." She tugged at his hand to get him to start walking again, "Rebecca Taylor...that has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"God, yes." he kisses her forehead as he unlocks the front door, hearing that the radio in the kitchen is on, which means that the house is starting to wake up and as he closes the door, Freddie comes down the stairs.

"Morning," Rebecca greets quietly, knowing that he, along with everyone else in the band, like to have as little conversation as possible before their morning coffee.

And true to that, Freddie gives her nothing but a nod in reply.

They follow him into the kitchen, seeing Deaky hovering over the cooker and without even having to say anything to one another, they silently agree not to say anything about the ring until someone notices and says something themselves.

Rebecca sits at the table with Brian and Alice, who are trying to finish the newspaper's crossword between them but he does look at her.

"You two were up early."

"We went to watch the sunrise," she explains and he nods.

"Picked a good morning."

"Yeah," she hummed, meeting Roger's eyes as he sits across from her, "We did."

There's a loud crash as John throws the pans he's using into the sink before he's turning to the rest of them, "Breakfast is served."

"What are we having today?" Roger mused as they all approached the worktops where John had laid out the food, "Oh, bacon and eggs again. Do you know how to cook anything else, Deaky? Or is this as far as your culinary skills go?" 

"If you're not happy with what I'm making, feel free to cook your own breakfast, Rog," he muttered. 

"Now, boys," Alice said quietly, "Play nice. It's early. You have plenty of time for arguing."

After everyone had their food, they all sat back down at the table, conversing quietly about what was going to happen when they went into the studio later on. 

When Rebecca, who was sat beside John, reaches over to grab the milk for her tea, he lets out a small gasp before he's choking on the bit of toast he's eating. 

"Christ," Brian mutters as both he and Rebecca start smacking him on the back, "What's the matter with you?"

He croaks a reply that no one understands and Alice gets up to get him some water. 

"Ring," John coughs after taking a sip, "There's a ring on her finger."

Roger and Rebecca's eyes meet once more and her face reddens when everyone starts leaning over trying to get a glimpse of it. 

"You did it!" Freddie cheers, pushing away from the table to come wrap his arms around Rebecca, "Oh darling, look at you. You're positively glowing!"

"You knew?" Rebecca questions and he nods enthusiastically.

"Of course I knew, darling."

"Me too." John nodded and Brian frowned. 

"I didn't."

"Oh, that's right," Roger said, "This lot found out when we got back from America. When we dropped you off at the hospital." 

"And you didn't think to tell me when you came to visit? I'm hurt, Rog. Hurt."

Rebecca giggles into her mug as Alice inspects the ring, "It's beautiful, Roger."

Her boyfriend opens his mouth to reply to the praise but Freddie beats him to it, "Of course it's beautiful, angel. I helped him pick it. A beautiful ring for a beautiful lady."

"Freddie," she laughed as he pressed a loud kiss to her cheek, unable to keep the smile off her face.

"As much as I'd love to sit here and listen to all of this gushing over rings and whatnot," Brian said, standing up from the table, "I've got a song to record. Boys?"

They all grumbled but did get up to follow and John gave her shoulder a squeeze, "Congratulations."

||-||

"We're going to have to tell your mum," Roger says later that night when she's getting ready for bed and Rebecca freezes where she's changing into one of his shirts. 

 "Maybe I'll ring her."

"You can't tell her this over the phone," he laughed, laying back against the headboard, "You have to tell her in person."

"You don't understand, Rog," she says quietly, tossing her own shirt onto the chair that's by the window before crawling up the bed to him, "You don't know what she's like."

"Oh, I think I know what she's like," he hummed as she lay down beside him, resting her hand on his chest. 

Laughing, she kissed the bare skin of his shoulder, "You don't. Picture this; my twenty-first birthday party. I'd had it all planned out and then, I walk into the venue that I'd booked up and I see that she's changed everything."

"Everything?" 

"Everything." she repeats, "So if we tell her in person, you know what she's going to do?"

"What?" 

"She's going to take charge. Of everything."

"You need to tell her love."

"I know," she sits up, "I'll tell Sophie and she can tell her. She's told her everything else about our relationship so it's only right that she should be the one to tell her of our engagement."

"Rebecca," he says sternly but there is a smile pulling at his lips. 

"Fine," she sighs, dramatically rolling onto his chest, resting her chin on her hands, which are resting on his stomach, "But I hope you're prepared for the invitations to say Rebecca and Richard's wedding."

She let out a shriek when he suddenly rolled them over, his hands moving to her sides where he started tickling her. 

"Roger," she cried, trying to grab hold of his hands to stop him, "Roger, stop!"

Grinning, he managed to grab hold of both of her hands and pin them above her head on the mattress, "I'll take that ring back, please." 

"Never," she panted, "You're not getting rid of me now, Taylor."

Instead of replying, he leans down to kiss her, making her sigh and when he relaxes his hold on her hands, she brings one down to rest on his cheek, rubbing the skin softly with her thumb when he pulls away. 

"I love you," she whispers, "And I can't wait to be your wife." 

He turns his head just slightly so he can kiss her palm. 

Neither can he.