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Drops Of Juniper

Chapter Text

15 May 1993

John stood with his fingers twitching at his sides as he stared blankly at the tightly shut door in front of him. From where he stood he could hear the outburst the drummer was having. The sound of expensive glasses came crashing down to tiled floors and wood slamming into wood greeted the bassist. Grunts and angry huffs loud over the destruction of the older man's home.

With Freddie beside him, hand on his shoulder in  silent comfort, John finally grew the strength to bring a hand up and disrupt the chaos from the other side of the door.

There was a pause and John had half the mind to turn around and head back to the car. Not wanting to be caught up in one of Roger's moods.

The door opened and a the blonde peaked out. From what they could see his hair was ruffled and messy, face streaked with tears and eyes red and puffy. Roger was barely dressed even though Freddie and John had both reminded the boy as gently as they could that the wedding was to start midday and they would need to be there early to help set up and help with anything they could.

"Rog, are you ready to go?" John's voice was soft as if he was speaking to a frightened child. His voice any louder it would scare the child away.

The drummer only huffed, still shaking from his tantrum. "I'm not going."

"Roger," it was a scolding tone that Freddie rarely used.

"No," Roger whipped the door open, "I'm not bloody well going. I'm not going to stand up there and pretend I'm not..." he stopped knowing if he went on it would only make him feel worse. Having already cried and screamed all night long. Getting not even a wink of sleep. The dark circles adding to the list of things wrong with today. "it doesn't matter. You two can be his best men and I'm sure he'll be happy all the same."

"And what do we tell Brian then? That you are acting like a complete twat or a child?"

"Oh sod off, John. Just tell him I'm sick or something."

John and Freddie shared a disapproving look between the two before sighing heavily.

"If that's really what you want, Darling." The singer took his boyfriend's hand, "let's be on our way then. We have to go support Brian." It was a hit toward Roger that didn't bother him much.

Not on the surface anyway.

Slamming the door behind him he watched from the window as his friends got into their car and left without looking back. Knowing once Roger put his foot down he would be too stubborn to change his mind.

He didn't want to go to the stupid wedding. Hell, he didn't even want the stupid wedding to happen. Wanting to tell Brian everything from the beginning. How Roger never expected to fall for him. At first it had been simple attraction between to attractive people. Sleeping together and not giving it a label. The drummer never believing Freddie when he said the taller boy had a crush on him. Then they moved into the friends with benefits, helping each other out after gigs and when days dragged on and stress seemed too much to handle.

Roger never wanted to fall for the tall nerd who could go on and on about constellations and guitar riffs. Writing songs with meanings deeper than they seemed. With the saddest eyes the drummer had ever looked into. Finding himself lost in a sea of deep thoughts and worry. 

He could remember the moment he had fallen for Brian.

It was a beautiful summer day, one of the cooler days luckily for them since the air conditioning in their building was non existent, and Brian had come back to his flat looking completely defeated. Shoulders slumped, smile small, and eyes holding that same sadness. Roger had seen him outside his flat on the way up the stairs to his own. Watching as the older boy struggled to get the lock open once more. The lock itself being as old as the building it seemed with more rust than possible.

Roger had made his way down the stairs after hearing Brian give a forfeiting huff and laying his forehead against the old wood.

"You right, Bri?" It was dripping with concern, putting a hand on the other boy's shoulder who had their back to him. Brian slowly lifted his head, not even bothering to try and give him much of a smile.

"Oh, hey Rog." The tone of his voice just screamed that something was wrong. It sounded like someone had just told Brian the stars had all fallen from the sky or someone had smashed his red special and made the boy watch as they wrecked it to pieces.

"What's wrong, Mate?"

"Its just been a pretty shitty day," for the older boy to curse it must have really not been great, "I totally flunked my final and I just know my parents are going to freak if I fail this course. I started writing a new song, but someone spilled coffee on it earlier and now it's ruined and I haven't been sleeping well since Tim and his new girlfriend have decided to shag every night. Even though he knows we share a bloody wall." Brian leaned his head back against the door, his bag falling to the ground below.

Roger snorted, "I highly doubt that, Bri. You're like a mega genius and anyway you studied like someone was holding you hostage. There's no way you didn't do good, Bri."

The guitarist sighed heavily, seeming more defeated than Roger had ever seen him. "Thanks, Rog. I don't know I just feel like I could have done better, ya know?"

"Nope, stop that right now. I'm sure you did great and I will not have you stressing out over this. And as for the other things I'm sure you can still write out that killer song and you can always stay at my flat with Fred for the night so you can sleep. I'm sure he won't mind much. He likes you anyway."

Brian's smile was small but still there and Roger was proud of himself for having been able to do that.

He wanted to see more of that smile.

Pushing that thought aside he grabbed Brian's hand and practically dragged him up the stairs to his own flat, the older boy complaining the whole way up.

"Rog, what are you doing? I have course work to finish and I want to try and at least nap before Tim comes back."

Roger ignored the older boy and instead only said with a smile, "Wait here." Before opening his flat door and walking in, shutting the door behind him.

And Brian waited.

It was only a few minutes later until Roger came out with a bag on his shoulder and keys bunched in his hand. Taking the other boy's hand once more he dragged him back down the stairs and out of the building.

"Rog, are you going to tell me what you're doing now?" Brian asked curiously as Roger unlocked his car and hoped into the driver seat.

"Nope, get in we're going for a ride."

Brian followed without much of a fight knowing Roger could tell him to jump and he would simply ask 'how high'?

They drove mostly in silence. The only sound being the soft sound of the radio playing. Watching from the window, Brian looked from the window to see tall buildings and crowds of people start to slowly disappear. As the night drew closer so did their journey.

The boys ended up at the countryside, the sun setting and making room for the moon and stars to greet the pair. The moon lighting up the sky along side the stars that accompanied it.

"You aren't going to murder me, are you?" The guitarist joked and Roger rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"No, then we'd be out a pretty awesome guitarist and I'm not exactly cut out for jail. Now let's go slow poke."

Brian laughed, "alright alright." Moving out of the car and following the younger boy who still had the bag hanging from his shoulder. They moved out to a clearing with a little body of water that the moon could cast off of and trees to dance with the wind when it passed by.

In the bag, the blonde pulled out a blanket and laid it down on the ground before plopping down.

"Roger-"

"No more questions, get down here." And he pulled the boy down, laying his head on Brian's chest once he was laid down and snuggling up close. "Tell me about the constellations?"

He smiled down at the younger boy, "ok."

They spent the rest of the night looking up at the stars, Roger getting lost in the way Brian spoke of the stars like they were the most beautiful thing. Smiling softly and letting the taller boy stroke through his hair as he talked. Feeling Brian relax under him.

That was the moment he knew he wanted Brian for the rest of his life. As Freddie scolded him for not calling or letting him know where the other was. Worrying and pacing until the blonde came back smiling wider than he ever had before.

With a sigh he moved from the window and to his bedroom where his suit lay waiting for him. Roger did want to go and watch the love of his life marry someone far better than him. Watching them simple and kiss and say their vowes. It would hurt more than the drummer thought he could handle.

That wasn't fair to Brian though.

The older boy had always been there to help him when he needed it. Frustrated with coursework, Brian would sit beside him and help where he could. Couldn't figure out the next part of a song, Brian would swoop in and suggest a line or two to help get his ideas rolling once more. He wanted to stay behind in the studio and work on his solo until he could play it in his sleep, Brian would be right beside him the whole time. Making sure he ate and actually went home instead of crashing on the sofa in the studio.

Brian had always been there for Roger and it wouldn't be right for him to not show up. So, the drummer did what he should have done hours ago and slid into his suit. Looking into the mirror to fix his hair and looking at the clock to see how much more time he had to waste before he would be making it by just a hair.

It took a lot of self motivation to grab his keys and drive over to the quiet little church the wedding was being held at. Somewhere Chrissie had picked since it was close to where her parents lived. Knowing her mum wouldn't be able to handle a long drive out to London with how sick she had felt.

Pulling in and parking wherever was left which just so happened to be a spot in the far back of the lot. Which gave him enough privacy to lean back in his seat and light a cigarette to calm his nerves. Taking a few drags before moving out of the car and slamming the door. Crushing the cigarette under his dress shoes before moving to the church entrance. The entrance having been decorated all in white. Pink and white pillows tied to the railing. Inside was very small and simply decorated. The aisle having a white train leading to the alter where Brian, John, Freddie and Chrissie's bride's maids were all waiting for the bride.

Freddie, John, and Brian all whipped their heads to find Roger opening to door to the church and moving quickly down the aisle to Brian's side. "I'm sorry I'm late," he leaned in to whisper to Brian who looked to be sweating what little weight he had away, "I wasn't feeling good, but I couldn't miss out on my mates wedding."

Brian seemed to relax a bit, unconsciously leaning back into Roger's voice. The familiar raspiness helping calm his nerves. The other two bandmates shared a simple between each other before touching Roger's shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"I knew you wouldn't stay away, Darling," Freddie smiled. Voice low so their family and friends didn't hear from their seats at the pews. Faces of all ages and sizes looked at the alter where Chrissie would be any moment.

Roger took a breath and shook his head, reminding himself that he had had his chance and that chapter was finished. It was time for Chrissie and Brian to start their new beginning together.

He knew she would make him happy.

Then the wedding march played and there was no time for Roger to back out. Simply watching as Chrissie moved down the aisle, family and friends gasping at her beauty and smiling. Her father, an older man with graying hair and a strict look, was walking her down the aisle. Glaring daggers at Brian who seemed ready to shake right off the alter and into his grave.

"Thank you, Dad." She kissed his cheek before moving to stand across from Brian. Holding each other's hands and smiling lovingly at each other.

The priest went on and Roger shut him out, ready to move onto the reception where he could get shit faced and forget all of this.

"Brian, do you take Chrissie to be your lawfully wedded Wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

Brian smiled, "I do."

"And Chrissie, do you take Brian to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"

Chrissie was crying happy tears, a smile on her face as her eyes became glassy. "I do." She choked.

"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. May. You may now kiss the bride."

Rings were slid until fingers before Brian leaned in and kissed Chrissie with all the passion he used to show Roger.

Roger couldn't help thinking how that should be them.

Everyone followed after the newly wedded couple, getting into the cars and following each other to a banquet hall. Big enough for everyone to move around comfortable.

The light dimmed and the DJ setting up to play their first dance song.

Roger wanted to be sick.

It was after watching the two dance and listening to the speeches that Roger was able to opt out of when he was finally able to drink. Ordering whatever was the strongest and waiting at the bar surrounded by people he didn't recognize.

Brian walked up then, smiling and his ring shining even in the low light. Making Roger feel sick.

"Hey, Mate. Thanks for coming. John and Fred said you may not come because you weren't feeling good. I'm glad you were feeling better though. I don't think I could have done it without you." Brian pulled Roger in for a hug that the drummer stiffened up in. Wanting to get his drink and go back to his table before he said something he would regret.

"No problem, Bri. I just figure I needed to be here to support you through such an important step in your life." The drummer simply shrugged. Feeling a weight lift when his drink was slid his way. Taking a big gulp of it before turning to look at Brian who still hadn't left.

"You right, Mate?" a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder

"Fine," Roger deadpanned.

"You don't look very happy. What's going on?" Brian's hand never left his shoulder, leaving what was normally a comfortable weight now something much more heavy on him.

"I'm fine, really. Congratulations Brian." Roger forced a smile before shrugging the other's hand from his shoulder and walking away. Eyes burning into his back as he moved further away and back to his table where John was sipping on champagne and bobbing his head to whatever the DJ was playing.

Brian wanted to follow after him, make sure everything was alright but was quickly pulled away by Chrissie's family.

They didn't speak the rest of the night.

 

'Child Of Queen Thrown Out and Hidden?' Roger's heart all but stopped the next morning reading the newspaper.

Fuck.

The picture was of a girl sitting on a guitar case with the guitar strap secure around her. It looked like she was mid strum when they caught the picture. Long waves of hair cascading down her back large framed glasses and a pair of overalls. Her hazel eyes doll like, but god did she still resemble Brian.

There was no way he could get out of this. Maybe the boys would just think it was another wild news article and leave it alone.

It did not go that way.

A knock at his door had his heart thumping in his chest far louder than what should be considered healthy. Pounding in his ears as his breathing became shallower. It couldn't happen like this. Brian didn't deserve to find out this way.

Slowly he made his way to the door, taking another deep breath before pushing it open a crack.

"I thought you two would have been hung over. What are you doing here?"

"Open the bloody door, Rog." It was John, his soft tone far gone. Marching in when the door was opened wide enough to do so with his boyfriend following close behind.

"Can I get you both anything?"

"What the fuck is the meaning of this?" And the paper the drummer had been reading now moments before was shoved violently into his face. The picture of the young girl burned into his memory. Freddie's hand squishing the paper into his face before letting it fall to the floor.

How could he forget that face, those eyes, that smile. She was all Brian.

"Just another crazy story, Fred. Don't pay that any mind."

"You know damn well that girl is the spitting image of Brian and you. So, unless Brian has a secret kid we don't know about with Clare then you have some explaining to do. And we want answers now, Rog." John spoke up, fuming beside his boyfriend. How could Roger hide something like this from them. They were bandmates second and friends first. Friends who told each other secrets and didn't hide anything from.

What happened to that?

The younger boy sighed, "follow me and I'll explain everything." Moving to the sitting area where he nervously sat on the sofa. Waiting for the other two to sit on the sofa across from him. "Tea?"

"No, Rog."

He knew this would happen one day. Someone would make the connection and start asking questions which would start a whole shit storm to erupt over his simple life.

"I wanted to tell you guys. I really did, but I was afraid you might tell Brian and well-"

"So, she really is yours?"

Roger crossed a leg over the other, tucking hair behind his ear and picking at his fingers. "She is."

"And Brian's?"

He nodded and that was all the confirmation the other two needed before they shared a look between each other.

"She looks like she's in her teens. How the hell did you hide this from us for so long?" Freddie asked leaning forward. More interested in everything Roger would spell than how angry he still was.

"And since when can men have babies because last time I checked-" John piped in before Roger cut him off.

"She's going to be eighteen this coming December. She doesn't know about, well, any of this." Roger explained, "after I found out I was pregnant I went to Clare and I asked her to take care of her since I knew I wouldn't be able to raise a kid especially one that was the spitting image of Brian without raising suspicion."

"You mean that little girl Clare adopted was..." the two were starting to finally put the pieces together after years of being kept in the dark. John first coming to the realization then Freddie soon following with a gasp.

"Mine and Brian's baby, yes."

"How could you have hid this from us?" The hurt in Freddie's voice made Roger's heart ache.

"I'm sorry, I really am but I couldn't have Brian finding out. Don't you think I wanted to tell you. Wanted to complain and tell you guys to slow down during recording our album or ask you guys to help me out with my weird cravings. Call you up when my hormones were making me cry or when I first felt her kick. Don't you think I wanted to show off all my ultrasound pictures or tell you when I found out the gender." Tears were quickly gathering in his eyes, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. "Don't you think I wanted to keep her."

"Roger, I'm so sorry." The two boys squeezed themselves onto the smaller sofa Roger was sitting on and wrapped their arms around him. "I can only image what you had to go through."

"I'm sorry I never told you guys. I wanted to," a choked sob had him sniffling, "I wanted to so badly."

The two boys shushed him, helping him calm down and dry his nose. Once Roger didn't finally calm down, tissue in hand and eyes sore from crying, he looked between the two before smiling.

"Let me tell you how Juniper May Taylor came to be."

Chapter Text

December 1969

"Smile?" Freddie tried his best to read the poster that was being shoved in his face by the overly excited drummer. The words so close to his face that the letters started to blur and blend together. Roger pulled the offending paper away from the older boy's face, replacing the space with his face. Smiling wide and practically bouncing around the room in excitement. 

Roger had been trying, ever since graduating Secondary, to get back into playing. Only finding enough time between selling things at the market with Freddie and all the coursework his professors loved to give him. Getting lost in essays and projects for the past few months. Finding time to play the acoustic that had taken refuge leaning against the old desk his parents had let him take, Freddie having haggled a nice old women to sell it to them after finding out Roger had played acoustic back home, was near impossible let alone have a minute to set up and jam on his drum kit. Noise complaints be damned. He missed playing. Missed the thrill of playing in front of a crowd, of jamming with friends, and of course playing and creating music for others to enjoy.

"Yeah, they're finally having auditions for a drummer," Roger flopped down on the sofa after safely folding the poster and shoving it into his too tight to be healthy pants, "apparently their last drummer was kind of a Twat and didn't get along well with the lead." He shrugged, "I don't know, but what I do know is that I'm totally going to blow the two blokes away. I mean I'm a shoe in."

Freddie, who's arms were still full of clothing he had haggled and bought from a goodwill not far from their flat, snorted. "I'm not so sure, Darling. You can be a twat as well." He moved to lay the clothes down on the edge of the safe where Roger's head was resting, a shoe falling rebelliously to the old wood below with a loud thud. 

"Oh, sod off." Roger laughed. 

The older boy playfully rolled his eyes before moving into the kitchen to make himself and, if he was feeling nice, Roger tea. "But, seriously Darling," he said from the kitchen loud enough for the other to hear over the sound of running water, "this could be it." The kettle was filled and the stove was set to high to boil the water. "Screaming crowds, flashing lights," Freddie peaked his head into the lounge with a playful smirk, "warm bodies."

Roger's smile grew impossibly wider, "sounds bloody wonderful." He sighed waiting until the other boy returned before snuggling up to him. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Freddie's head ended up tucked under Roger's chin, staring at the wallpaper he was growing to hate more and more the longer they stayed there. 

"If, on the off chance they choose me as their drummer and this does go somewhere, where will that leave you? I know this has always been your dream. I can't just leave you in the dust, ya know?" Roger couldn't help but worry about Freddie. Not wanting to be the only one to live out the rock star dream.

Freddie scoffed, "Oh please, Darling, I would obviously be your costume designer." he slowly sat up and shifted so he could face the younger of the two. "I would put you in the sexiest things I could come up with. No one would be able to focus on the lead when your in one of my outfits, throwing your head back and pulling those absolutely sinful faces." 

The drummer pulled Freddie back down with a laugh. "Of course, thanks Fred."

They spent the rest of the evening talking about what Roger would play during the audition and what he would be wearing. Going through more outfit changes than Roger had ever gone through in his life. And he was pretty picky when it came to creating a unique style.

 Brian didn't know if the universe was pulling tricks on him or if he was going crazy. He had spent the better half of his afternoon putting up posters for the band. Planning on having auditions to find a new drummer seeing as the last one walked out on the not a week ago. His personally clashing with Tim who was overall a pretty chill lad. They fought constantly about the timing of a song or when the drummer was off beat, which was more often than not. Their last performance had been on the fine line of embarrassing. The drummer having played off beat and tried his hand at backing vocals, not being able to harmonize with Brian no matter how hard the pair tried. That had Tim flying into a rage once they were off stage. Brian having to step in between the two before a fight broke out.

That had been the end of that bloke putting the band back at square one,

Since then, he had put up posters everywhere hoping to attract a large crowd so they would have options. And wouldn't you know Brian would find himself with his breath caught in tight in his throat. Eyes scanning over the most beautiful person he had ever seen staring at the poster he had put up not moments ago with the most brilliant smile the guitarist had ever seen. Blonde hair a shaggy mess wearing the tightest jeans he had ever seen someone squeeze themselves into with the buttons on his button up undone. The boy practically dripped sex. Not only that, but he was a drummer too. 

How could this boy get any better?

And just as soon as Brian had laid eyes on the boy he was gone. Walking down the hall with the most confident of strides, poster hanging loosely from pale fingers.

Then he saw him again the next day on his way back to his flat. Having decided to stop at the little cafe only a few minutes walk from the flat he shared with Tim.  The boy was walking with another bloke, taller with a big smile and ruffled hair. 

Brian wouldn't admit he was jealous of whoever this mystery man was, but he definitely felt the sting of jealous bubble up inside of him. 

The last time the universe would allow the two to cross paths was the staircase of their building. They would be going opposite directions. The boy carrying a pile of clothes down the stair, a pile big enough to have to peak around just to see the stairs below to make sure he didn't trip. Brian had almost asked to help. Just to hear the boy speak and maybe even see the smile he was giving the bloke he was walking with not even a day ago. Something stopped him though. He didn't know if it was nerves or if it was because he knew he wouldn't be much help with how exhausted he had been due to long hours of practice Tim forced them to go through even without a drummer. Knowing he wouldn't be much help and probably embarrass himself.

The guitarist wouldn't see the blonde for a few days after watching him disappear into the building him and Tim lived together in. Disappearing behind the door and up the steep stairs. Not seeing him until the auditions would take place unless he didn't show up. Which Brian prayed he did, wanting to hear what someone who looked like that would sound like. Talking, laughing, crying out. The guitarist buried himself in his coursework to avoid his thoughts going any further. 

"You right, Mate?" Tim was pushing the desks together, creating a makeshift judges table like in those tv shows. "You've been kind of spacey the past few days." 

"Fine, just hoping for this to work out. I can't handle another twat like Gill. I mean, why on earth did we think he would work out. He was bloody awful during his audition and his attitude was just as bad." Brian sighed, moving to sit at the the desks Tim had set up. Tim sitting beside him not long after. A moment past before the guitarist spoke up again, "I just want to find someone who wont be a bloody nightmare to be around."

Tim clasped a hand over the other's shoulder, "I'm sure there's someone out there, Mate. Don't look so down. You might scare all the drummers away."

And that was that. Brian nodded before they called in the first drummer. A bulky boy with long chestnut hair and an almost snooty look on his face. Brain knew this would be a long day once the boy hit the first cymbal, ears ringing accordingly.

As it grew later and later, sitting in the old practice room listening to drummer after drummer with an insistent headache moving to the surface, Brian kept looking for the boy his eyes seemed to always be scanning for. Each time they would call the next person in his heart would clench in excitement only to be disappointed once the door opened to reveal everyone but the beautiful blonde.  No one seemed to be working out. Each drummer seemed to just be aggressively pounding the drums like their life depended on it and none of them had a personality worth mentioning. Most of them thinking they were too good to be apart of 'Smile' or lacked confidence to the point that they asked to start over more times than Brian cared to count. It seemed hope was lost on them and they would have no choice but to choose the least arrogant bloke to play the drums.

Until the door swung open and Brian's heart jumped into his lungs. 

"Sorry, I know I'm late." and if that raspy voice didn't have Brian's thoughts wondering, "I was at work and didn't realize how far Imperial was." He looked up and the guitarist was pierced by the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. "Name's Roger by the way."

Tim, thankfully for the flustered guitarist, chose this moment to speak up. Having been ready to pack up and head back to the flat. Call this one a complete flop and try again. "No problem, Mate. You'll have to excuse us. The last couple auditions really took a toll on our ears. I've don't think I've ever had a headache worse than this one." The bassist half joked, headache pounding by not as bad as a few moments prior. He watched curiously as the boy bent over and started to fiddle with the kit. 

After a moment of feeling eyes on him, Roger looked up confused. "What never seen a drummer tune a kit before?"

"You have to tune the drums?" That was the first thing Brian had been able to utter after having been tongue tied by the boy. Which earned him a generous laugh.

"Do you tune your guitar, Curly?" Roger asked and the taller boy nodded swallowing the lump, "alright then."

The boys watched after that. Watching the younger boy tune the kit for a moment or two longer before he stood from his crouched position with a huff. "Alright, looks good. Ready for me to start?"

Tim shrugged, sliding back into his seat beside Brian who was sitting at the edge of his chair waiting for the drummer to start. "Go for it."

And go for it he did.  

"That was- you're amazing." Brian was, for the lack of a better word, completely and utterly fucked. The boy who had walked in confidence dripping from every pore had not only played like no one he had ever heard before, but was also gorgeous. Long wavy blonde hair fell in his face as he played, doll like eyes shut tight, lips wet opened wide, and his shirt opened enough to show the expanse of flawless skin. Sweat dripped from his temple down porcelain skin disappearing under the harsh classroom lights.

Brian wondered what it would be like to drag his tongue down the column of the other's neck. Watching him throw his head back in ecstasy, like he did when he played, from Brian stuffing him down his throat. Thrusting deep inside him and hitting every spot that had the boy screaming.

He looked like a screamer.

"-ian. Brian, hello. Brian!" Tim nudged his friend's side harder than necessary. Knocking the curly hair boy out of his daze. Roger chuckled.

"I'm sorry... what was that?"

"I said what do you think?"

What did he think?

All his thoughts right now were of bending Roger over the drum kit or the desks the two had pushed together. Having the boy on his knees under the desk, long fingers pulling blonde locks. The younger boy's playing totally out the window at this point.

Brian shifted uncomfortably.

"I think it was... good."

"Good?" Tim waved Brian off, "how about we meet up Thursday so we can play together and see how we sound."

"Sounds good." Roger's smile had Brian's knees weak.

"Can I have your number?" Fuck. "Just in case anything changes or something comes up."

"Oh, yeah, no problem." Roger moved towards the two older boys, looking for paper and a pen.

"Shit, sorry mate I didn't bring anything with me," Tim shrugged. Having left his bag at his flat before coming here with his bass safely in its case.

Brian gulped, "I- I only have a pen..."

Roger shrugged, "hey, no problem. If you don't mind I can just write it on one of your arms. Save us all the headache." Brian almost jumped out of his skin. Thinking about the boy's hands holding his arm as he wrote, leaning in close to make sure the numbers are clear. His breath tickling the skin and causing goosebumps to prick across his skin. Brian thanked whoever was up there that the weather had been nice recently, calling for t-shirts and possibly shorts.

"You can use my arm if you want?" He cringed at the nerves present in his voice.

"Sure mate," Roger grabbed the pen Brian had outstretched than placed two hands on the other's arm. Holding him steady. The guitarist had to fight the gasp when calloused fingers gripped delicately at the top of his arm where the elbow bands. Quickly scribbling down his number, which felt too quick for Brian's taste. Luckily enough for him Roger's vision was shit and so he did have to lean down close. Ghosting a breath over the skin and his hair tickling his arm.

Once done he grabbed his things and thanked the boys for letting his audition. Something he had been excited about for days. Always hoping to be in a band  after finding his love for the drums.

"I'll call you," Brian hurriedly said as he watched the retreating figure. Roger stopped and turned towards the boys with a playful smirk.

"Goodbye Brian."

Brian was cute. Adorable even with his nervous ticks. Fixing his clothes every few moments to keep up a well kept appearance. Fingers twitching to touch the hastily straightened hair. Each piece starting to natural wave with the humidity in the air. Come on spring with its cool mornings and humid afternoons.

Roger couldn't help thinking of Brian as he left the little practice room the boys had found in their Uni, an old classroom that thankfully wasn't used. Only downside was there was no heating nor air conditioning so during the winter and spring months the boys sweat. Making sure to bring enough water to get them through practice and opening the doors to the empty hallway which helped flood the room in cool air. The professors, however, did not appreciate their afternoon classes being distracted by the sound of 'aimlessly strumming a few instruments and banging on the drums like an animal'.

They weren't allowed to open the doors after the professors complained.

Hoping in the back of his mind Brian, would in fact, call him. About the band or... otherwise.

"I'll call you, really?" Tim raised an accusatory eyebrow at his friend who was carefully putting his guitar away.

"I was just saying, ya know, if we can do practice or something I'll call... that all," Snapping the latches on his guitar case before grabbing the handle and standing with a huff. Brian turned to see Tim staring at him with his arms crossed and lips pulled into a tight line.

He rolled his eyes with a sigh, "Please you were drooling over the guy since the moment he stepped into the room." Grabbing the bass case and heaving it up onto the desks they had pushed together.

"Was not."

"Whatever, just don't get into anything with this guy. He's really good and we can't afford to lose a drummer because you decided of all the people to get your dick wet with it had to be with him." Tim finished packing up, loudly snapping the latches on the case and lifting it off the desk. "Promise me."

"Alright, I get it."

"Promise me."

Brian sighed, "I promise." And with that he left, glad he wouldn't have to see Tim at their shared flat until he was finished with his afternoon class. Knowing he would still be hearing about his lousy attempt at flirting with the beautiful blonde.

How could he not?

At least Roger didn't seem bothered by it. That little playful smirk burned in the back of his mind and the number scribbled in chicken scratch like handwriting.

He wondered, as he moved through the streets of London to the little cafe he liked to do his coursework that was quite a walks away, if calling the boy now would be too soon. Wondering what that lovely raspy voice would sound like over the phone, muffled around his cock, crying his name.

No Brian.

You made a promise to not shag Roger.

Which means any phone conversations were to be friendly only. No flirting.

Feet moving on autopilot as they took him to the front of the shop. Opening the door and ordering something simple before grabbing his drink and moving to one of the tables in the back. Knowing he was more likely to be bothered less by the small crowd inside than if he were to sit in the front. Brian had made that mistake before and paid for it when an older man sat at his table and kept talking to him until he left. Coursework unfinished and the day already most of the way over.

He took out his textbooks and made a mental note to stop at the library soon to grab a few books for his paper. Wanting to gather as much information as he could to guarantee a good grade. The knowledge he would keep once he was done was worth it anyway.

Sipping on his tea, Brian spent the next two hours or so with a pencil in his mouth while he revised his outline. Making sure he didn't repeat or overuse a point that would knock his marks down. Sometimes stopping to people watch until he noticed his tea was long finished and the crowd of people had long but vanished at this point. The quiet chatter comforting in the darkening sky and harsh lighting in the shop.

Leaving soon after he noticed the sky darken, approaching around the time Tim would be back. Wanting to be back before the other boy to make sure he was all set up so Tim wouldn't bother him much except maybe to ask about dinner. Their flat, luckily, was only a short distance away and didn't allow him to drift far into his thoughts. Only allowing his very much focused mind to think about the paper he had to finish and all the work his professors had thrown on him.

Brian tried, with no luck, to unlocked the door with as little trouble as possible but, the lock was old and slightly rusted. Their landlord refusing to fix it and the two didn't exactly have the money to get someone to fix it themselves . So, they were forced to jam their keys into the keyhole in jiggle it a few times. Normally the lock would click and then they'd be able to easily get into the flat.

Which was a whole other story.

Today, though, it seemed the door didn't want to open. No matter how much Brian jigged the key into the lock nothing happened. He thought about having the wrong key, but knew that couldn't be it seeing as he didn't have any other keys.

With a sigh he rested his forehead against the wood door and silently prayed for a miracle.

"Brian, what are you doing here?"

And there was his miracle.

When he lifted his head Roger was standing a few feet away from him, his bag slung over his shoulder and his sticks in one hand. Keys hanging in the other with more keychains than he's ever seen.

"This is actually my flat I share with Tim," Brian said with as little frustration as he could. Wanting to just slam his head against the door and get it over with. Thought drifting back to Roger's pretty eyes glancing up at him from behind long lashes on his knees.

He shifted uncomfortable again.

"Wow, small world. I live on the third floor. Lifts shit so I gotta take the stairs." And Brian nodded because he remembered the nightmare of moving in with the lift being as ancient as the building, creaking and rattling if more than one person was in it. Bags were an iffy and Brian didn't plan on throwing his life away just to avoid carrying groceries up the stairs.

"Yeah, what a nightmare that is. Wish they'd fix this place up, but we pay for what we get." The taller boy shrugged.

"Sadly," Roger shifted to lean against the drywall, "so, why are you standing out here instead of inside?"

Brian held up his keys, "my locks messed up and it was fine for awhile, but seems our lucks run out."

"Tried jiggling the lock?"

"Yup."

"Fuck, you guys are screwed." Roger said flatly. Than felt bad when Brian grimaced. His own pocket weeping for the boy. "Hey, maybe you just need to come back to it. You can come hang in my flat for a little bit. Listen to some records or something," Shrugging nonchalantly before looking at the taller boy through thick lashes.

Brian thanked whoever was up there for not only brining this miracle to him, but that he was also leaning against the wall. His knees having buckled at the delicious sight in front of him.

How would he survive being in the boy's flat?

He'd just politely say no and then call his landlord to tell them his lock was messed up and hope they'd be nice enough to fix it. Not likely, his landlord was kind of an asshole. Maybe he could go back to the little cafe by the building. He could get started on his paper since his outline was done and then-

"Yeah sure."

Fuck.

Roger smiled, "Alright, come on in then." He unlocked the door with little trouble before pushing it open and kicking his shoes off. Moving out of the way for Brian to step inside.

The lay out was Roger's flat was the same as his own. Tiny little hallway leading into the lounge and through a doorway would be the kitchen. Further in the back another hall with three doors. Two, he assumed, for bedroom and one for a bathroom. Brian wasn't expecting the mess, but ignored it nonetheless.

"Sorry about the mess, wasn't expecting company." Roger sent another playful wink to Brian who tried his best to keep his face from heating up.

This boy would be the end of him.

They moved to the lounge after Brian carefully slid out of his clogs and set them in the battle of shoes by the door. Curiously wondering if the boy had a flatmate or if he just had a lot of shoes.

"Make yourself at home." Roger was bent over looking through the many records he had, but Brian could only focus on the way his back curved and how is ass stuck out.

His throat drying.

He sat down and tried to look anywhere but Roger when he stood once more. "Jimmy Hendrix's sound good?"

"You like Jimmy Hendrix?"

"You better bloody believe that." Roger put the record on before moving to the kitchen. "Fancy anything to drink? Got liquor or I could make tea?"

"Tea's fine." Brian leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Tapping his foot and enjoying the music.

"Bloody boring," he muttered, "You're having a sip of my drink then." Roger called from the kitchen before making himself a drink and setting the kettle up to boil the water. Instead of hanging in the kitchen know it would be a few minutes he moved back into the lounge and sat next to Brian. Who noticed his presence only after he had sat down.

"Try this," The blonde pushed a glass cup with a worrying color towards Brian's face.

"What is it?"

"Just trust me and try it, yeah?"

How could Brian argue with that?

So, he took the glass and took a small sip of at least tried before Roger tipped the glass back and had him taking a giant gulp. Whatever it was burned his throat and had him coughing up a storm. Feeling warmth spread across his chest and through his body.

"What the hell was that?"

"Special drink, I call it The Taylor Experience." The smaller boy catching his breath from laughing after watching Brian's face scrunch up from the strong taste. 

"Jesus, what the hell is in that?" Brian could still the burn in his chest, fighting back another cough.

"It's a secret." The wink sent his way had the drummer losing his breath all over again.

He knew he was in too deep to go back now.

Chapter Text

"Fred." the older boy found himself in the same situation as a few days prior with an overexcited drummer greeting him as soon as the door to their flat was opened. A cup was handed to him before Roger pulled him carefully to the sofa, a big smile on his face.

"I'm going to take a guess and say they liked you?" Freddie asked, sipping on what he found to be earl grey. Something simple to soothe his throat after the long day he was having.

Roger put his own cup down, facing Freddie with a huge smile. "You're looking at a real drummer now."

"I knew you could do it, Darling. No one can bang the drums quite like you can," he winked.

"Not only that, but the guitarist is absolutely adorable. He was undressing me the entire time," that got Freddie's attention, "and had the cutest blush when I gave him my number."

"Oh, and what does this guitarist look like?" The older boy hid his smirk behind his cup, feeling bad for however caught the attention of the drummer.

"He's got real short hair that he clearly straightens by how it waves, its adorable. And his voice is all soft and nervous and his eyes are full of wonder and are this beautiful hazel color. And his legs, God, his legs go on for bloody ever." Roger paused, smirking at the older boy sipping on his tea beside him. "And he's got the longest fingers I have ever seen, Fred."

"Long or thick?"

"Long and bony." Roger recounted, having watched him nervously tap his fingers on the edge of the desk and got an even closer look when he was writing his number on the other's arm.

The older boy's smirk grew, "sounds like a fun time, Dear. Do let me know if he'd be interested in letting me have a go."

"In your dreams."

Brian looked at his arm for the hundredth time that day, looking at the numbers and wondering what would come from punching them into the landline they had in their flat. Not knowing what he would even say to the other if the boy was able to answer. He had debated with himself about just calling and seeing what the other was up to maybe see if the younger boy wanted to go out for drinks or jam together. But then all he could think about was Tim's words. They had been friends since they had started Uni, two years and still going strong, and he didn't want to ruin that all because the drummer in their band was gorgeous. Who just so happened to live above him, lived in a cluttered little flat, laughed like a dream, and made the strongest drink the other had ever tasted. Someone who could play the drums like no one else and looked damn good while doing it.

This was so unfair.

The guitarist decided, with a defended sigh, to simply write the number down and leave it somewhere it wouldn't get lost until he grew the balls to actually call the other boy. Returning to his studying and trying not to think about the slip of paper beside him with the number that seemed to consume all his thoughts.

"How do you feel about a drum solo in Keep Yourself Alive? Ya know, to spice things up." Roger had asked a few practices later, leaning against the wall with a cigarette between his lips. "Freddie, my flat mate and I, have been working on a drum solo for the past few weeks and were thinking it might add a bit to the song."

Tim shrugged, "I don't see why not." He wasn't paying too much attention. Instead choosing to tune his bass while the other finished his smoke and Brian finished tuning his own instrument. "How about you play it for us before we decide anything, yeah? Just to make sure it's something we can all agree on."

The blonde nodded, flicking his cigarette out the open window before moving behind his kit. All tuned and ready to go, he waited patiently to play what him and Fred had put together. Wanting to make sure the two were paying attention since this was one of the more difficult solos he had written for himself. Freddie had said he was ready for a challenge and Roger had to agree after getting back into the groove of things.

"Ready?" Tim and Brian nodded, turning to give Roger their full attention. The guitarist wish he hadn't.

Roger played a short section before the solo was to come in then quickly flew into it like he had practiced it a million times. Sticks flying over the kit like this is what he was born to do. Put on a good show for everyone to watch and enjoy. Brian couldn't help the way his eyes zeroed in on the blonde's face as he played. Bottom lip between the top row of his teeth before his lips parted into an 'O', hair flying into his face, and eyes full of playfulness. It was breath taking to watch the boy play and Brian almost made a little sound of disappointment when Roger finished with his solo. Sweat dripping from his forehead and slightly out of breath.

"How was that?" It was breathed out, a wide smile on the boy's face.

Tim smiled, "You just keep impressing me, Rog. Never seen someone fly over a kit like that."

Brian swallowed the lump in his throat, "I think that was bloody perfect, Rog."

And that's how they kept it. Watching Roger easily knock out the solo each and every time they performed Keep Yourself Alive. Tim and Brian sharing a smile when the crowd would clap and shout at the end. Loving the response they were getting not only for the song, but also for the drummer who was more that anyone expected.

And each time they would move off stage, giving a wave to the overly enthused crowd, Brian would have to hold himself back from pulling the younger boy in. Adrenalin pumping through his veins giving him enough courage to lean in and capture the lips he had stared at longer than what could be deemed normal. Twitching fingers lay at his side as Tim clasped a hand on his band mates backs and lead them to the bar. Brian sipping on whatever Tim forced into his hand, watching Roger flirt with whoever caught his eye. Cigarette hanging from his lips and confidence oozing from every pore.

Brian wouldn't admit he was jealous watching Roger wrap an arm around his next conquest and disappear into the night nor would he admit he wanted to be in that person's shoes.

It took the better end of half the year before anything happened between the two.

June 1970

"And you're sure you have time to help me out? I don't want to keep you from your stars." The two were walking back to their flat building together, hands bumping every so often. It was one of the nicer evenings as of late since the rain seemed to not be letting up. A nice breeze blew between the two as they moved, the ground still damp from the earlier rain fall. Brian had promised, after overhearing the boy complaining about having no one, to help the younger boy study for an exam that was coming up. Jumping at the chance to be alone with the blonde after trying to keep a friendly distance. Not wanting to upset Tim by flirting with Roger.

The taller of the two shrugged, holding the door open for Roger to walk through and following after. "I don't mind. It'll give me a break from all the coursework I have and," he smiled, "I'll be able to make sure you aren't goofing off."

Roger scoffed, "I would have been just fine without you, Star Boy." They moved up to Roger's flat, the younger boy throwing his bag down by the sofa and kicking his shoes off. Walking into the kitchen to make the two tea. "Make yourself at home, Bri."

Brian carefully kicked his shoes off moving to sit on the sofa and wait for Roger to come back so they could start.

"Hope you don't mind," light steps had Brian turning to find Roger walking back to the lounge, "we've been having a problem with our heater so it may take a bit before we can actually drink our tea."

"That's no problem." He simply shrugged and watched the drummer flop beside him. Pulling his bag up into his lap and pull out a binder. Taking out what Brian assumed was a study guide.

"Alright, let's get started."

Brian had to bite back praise when he saw Roger had taken the time to make note cards. Knowing the boy never took the time and instead study via study guide or just glanced through the textbook.

A good portion of the cards Roger had no problem getting through, taking a second before a cute little smile would spread across his face and he would confidently tell Brian his answer. It wasn't until they were close to the end did the drummer actually start to have a little trouble. Squinting at the cards as if that would give him insight to figuring out the definition until the older boy would give him the answer. Putting those cards aside to go over.

"Come on, Rog. You know this one. What cell walls consist of kingdom or kdomain eubracteria?" It was their second time going over the cards and Roger was just starting to get it. Only having trouble with this one last card.

"Firmacutes, gracilcutes, and... fuck I know this." The younger boy grunted, drumming his fingers against the coffee table.

"You do know this. Come on, Rog. I know you can do this."

And then a light bulb seemed to go off, "tenericutes! it's tenericutes, right?" Blonde eyes shimmered in hope.

Brian't heart skipped a beat, "that't it." and he couldn't help the smile that spread on his face at seeing the other boy pump his fist in victory and sink into the sofa. "Good job, Rog. I knew you could do it."

Their eyes locked.

 He wasn't expecting Roger to place his hand on Brian's chest and lean in. His brain didn't even have time to register the fact that the calloused hand that could make him melt was a thin layer from being on his skin once more. Too caught up in the lips pressed against his.

Fuck.

He shouldn't be doing this. He had made a promise to Tim to not get involved. A promise he shouldn't break or it could effect the band because what if things don't work out with him and Roger or they get in a fight.

Roger's lips felt so very soft.

A moment went by and Brian had stayed completely still, eyes wide and heart thumping it's own wild beat in his ears. But when Roger went to pull away arms quickly wrapped around his waist and those beautiful hazels closed.

Kissing Roger was an experience all in itself. Starting off gently, skating on the line of unsure before swooping in and ripping the air from Brian's lungs. Getting the older boy's lips to part by biting at his bottom lip till a gasp gave him the opening he wanted. Moving his hands up into straightened hair wondering what it would feel like if those gentle waves were instead beautifully untamable curls. Watching them bounce as the taller boy walked. Feeling the soft hair between his fingers.

They moved together, fighting for dominance while trying to also breathe without pulling away. Afraid if they did the spell would be broken and they would be left with an awkward air around them. Brian's hands smoothing over the back of Roger's shirt, reaching underneath to feel the warm skin there. A contrast to the fire he felt was burning all around him. The smaller boy, with Brian's help, ended up straddling the guitarist's lap. His hands buried under his shirt.

The sound of a whistle had the two pulling away with a jump. Hazel met a beautiful blue, confusion and lust meeting in the middle.

"Thanks, Bri" Roger's voice was soft, breath fanning over his lips since they were still so close. The older boy had to bite back a disappointed huff when Roger did pull away, licking his lips and staring at Brian like an animal who had caught its prey. Slowly, he climbed out of the older boy's lap and moved into the kitchen to finish making Brian's tea.

Brian swallowed hard against the thump in his throat. Heart still pounding in his head and ears. His thoughts a jumbled mess. All he could think about was the boy sat in his lap. Smooth skin under his own calloused fingers, the softest lips moving against his. Hungry and wanting all the same.

He was so fucked.

"Here's your tea, Bri." It was set down in front of him on the table, the note cards had been long forgotten on the table.

"Thank you," he croaked. Still in shock at the boy being so bold.

"In a daze I see. I'm told I have that effect on people."

Brian really felt as though he could fall for this man. Forgetting about his tea, he put on a brave face and wrapped his arms around the blonde once more. Crashing their lips together in a heated kiss. The younger boy following lead with his finger finding their way back into his hair.

Fuck Tim's rules.

Pulling the boy back into his lap, their hips grinding into each other. Brian's heart doing flips at the beautiful little gasps that Roger let out whether that be against his lips or when he pulled away to catch his breathe, lips shiny with spit and swollen from Brian's biting.

Roger pulled away with another breathy gasp, "Can I suck you off?"

Brian's throat dried, his hands grew sweaty, and dammit all of his pants didn't tighten instantly at the wicked words almost begged at him. The look on Roger's face was a look he only ever imaged. Out of breath while sitting in his lap. Still grinding down into his hard cock.

"I'm sorry?"

"Can I blow you?"

The hitch in his breathing had Roger smirking. "please."

Slowly the younger boy slid out of the lap of the flustered guitarist and in between spread legs. Hands balanced on slim thighs. "Get ready for me to blow your mind." Was all that was said with Roger's trademark playful wink that Brian was beginning to love more and more.

The guitarist's mind was blown when instead of Roger's hands moving, skilled fingers teasing circles into his clothed skin, the boy leaned forward and took his zipper between his teeth.

And. Bloody. Tugged.

He couldn't look away. Too engrossed at watching him tug his zipper down.

Roger would really be the death of him.

Tilting his head back to rest against the back of the sofa, a soft groan left between parted lips when he felt those skilled fingers reaching between the teeth of his zipper to grab his cock and pull it from his boxers. Thanking whoever was out there that he hadn't wore his favorite boxers with little planets and stars on it.

No matter how much he liked them he didn't need Roger laughing at him about it.

When the drummer didn't move Brian looked down to see Roger staring at the engorged flesh, fingers barely touching in his firm grip. "... wow."

He blushed a soft shade of red, "is.. is something wrong?"

Roger's eyes flicked between the hazel eyes shimmering with lust and confusion then back to the dick in his hand. "Yeah, perfect actually. Didn't know you were packing, Bri. I'm sure you have ladies busting down your door."

The poor guitarist didn't think his face could get any redder. "Oh... oh." Never in his life had he thought he was... big. Nor did he ever think he was above average. Not having been with anyone, except a sweet girl back at home when he was still in Secondary. She had made a face that Brian couldn't read, his nerves shaking him to the core. He remember kisses with bumping teeth and shaky hands fumbling with the condom he had somehow got without his parents noticing.

She complained, even after all the stretching his nervous fingers did, that he was just too much to take and she had left satisfied while he lay in bed throbbing.

They hadn't lasted long after that.

Roger chuckled, "don't be embarrassed. It's a good thing."

Brian opened his mouth to argue until he felt a wet, warm tongue drag from base to tip on his cock. A curse left between his lips. "Fuck, Rog."

The smirk on his face never left as they locked eyes, Roger kitten licking his shaft while avoiding the head completely. Brian moaning softly, fingers twitching to bury themselves in golden locks.

It continued like this for longer than Brian thought he could handle, chasing pleasure that just wasn't enough to catch that delicious numbing tingle. Roger's tongue dragging along his cock like a lollipop, still not taking him in the warm heat he so desperately craved.

This was a million times better than his hand.

"Rog, please." It was a throaty moan, Brian's fingers finally resting in the younger boy's hair. That seemed to just spare him on more, pressing his tongue flat before sliding over a thick vein. The guitarist didn't know how much more he could take of the Roger's teasing. Another deep groan had Roger's smirk stretching. "Come on, Rog. No more teaching." It sounded like Brian was at the end of his rope, breathing picking up.

Cute.

Roger pulled away and Brian almost whimpered at the loss. The only thing keeping him for actually whining is the still firm grip from Roger's hand on his now slick shaft. "Alright, Bri. I've had my fun and because you asked so nicely I'll give you what you want."

And Brian almost cried in happiness.

Finally, after giving the tip a loving peck and stroking down his shaft to rest at the base, Roger's lips wrapped around just the head. The feeling of finally being wrapped in that tight heat had Brian's fingers tightening around soft hair. Trying his best not to just thrust his hips forward and finally, finally be buried down Roger's throat.

Wrecking the boy just as he imagined. Guiding him along his shaft with the younger boy just taking it. Rag dolling it while Brian took control and fucked the taste out of his mouth. Thrusting into the other's face until he felt his muscles tighten and then release. Cumming while being completely buried down the boy's throat. Washing his adam's apple bob as he shallows everything before Brian slowly pulls out with a content smile. Listening to Roger talk after with his already raspy voice destroyed.

Fuck if that didn't make his muscles clench and dick twitch.

Roger felt the stretch, the way his lips ached at being stretched so wide it almost hurt while his cheeks puffed out. Never in his twenty one years had he ever been with someone so thick and he had sucked a lot of dick during Secondary and now in Uni. And fuck if that didn't turn him on to no end.

It had Roger shifting on his knees, his dick hard and straining uncomfortable against his too tight jeans that he insisted on wearing.

With a determined frown and a wink up to a almost out of it Brian, he started to slowly suck down the shaft. Feeling his mouth fill quickly and holding back a cough when the thick head bumped his tonsils. Almost disheartened at seeing how much there was still left before lips meant the firm grip of his fist.

Talk about ticking the tonsils.

Brian's leg was steadily bouncing a slow beat into the floor board below, groaning. Trying to keep himself from throwing his head back and crying out when he felt his dick hit the back of Roger's throat. Wanting to watch the beautiful blonde suck and bob along his cock.

"Fuck, Rog. You're beautiful." It was meant to be muttered but it was more of a hiss when already stretched lips sucked further down his shaft. Feeling himself slowly be buried down Roger's tight throat.

If he were to die right now he would certainly go happily.

He could feel Roger's throat contract around his cock when the drummer swallowed around him, a string of incoherent curses spilling from his lips. Fingers tightening in the blonde locks, holding Roger without realizing until the hand around his cock tapped his thigh. That had him pulling away quickly with a wet pop, looking down at the boy who was coughing. A string of spit connecting them.

"Sorry, you right, Rog?" Brian stroked the others hair, waiting for Roger to answer once he caught his breath. When he finally caught his breath, teary blue eyes met hazel through thick lashes.

Roger looked beautiful.

"Great, actually. Fuck do you even realize how big you are?" Before Brian could apologize Roger already had his hand wrapped around his cock, lips around the tip sucking as much down as he could all at once. The older boy choking on his words and falling back heavily against the sofa.

Roger slurped down his shaft, bobbing his head and hallowing out his cheeks. While his hand stroked what wasn't in his mouth as he moved further down. Until lips met fist at the base, swallowing and holding himself until it was too much and he pulled back up to kitten lick the tip. 

Brian was fighting a losing battle, fist clenching the arm of the sofa as hard as he could while the other slowly guided Roger making sure not to choke him again, trying not to cum too quickly. He didn't expect Roger to be so good at this nor did he expect for the drummer to swallow him down so easily.

It had his brain jumbled and his heart racing. Filthy moans were ripped from Brian and the sound of Roger sucking away at his cock like it was the best treat he had ever had didn't help Brian's already tight balls.

"Shit Rog," one particularly hard suck and the tightness of Roger's throat around his cock had Brian cumming with little warning. Holding Roger in place with white knuckles and a long groan spilling from his lips.

The small warning he was given didn't seem to register in Roger's brain until it was too late. Feeling Brian spill down his throat while he worked to swallow everything down. Not much of a choice when Brian was holding him in a death grip. He waited until the grip in his hair loosened and Brian sighed happily.

Slowly sucking up his shaft one last time, slurping up all the cum he had missed with Brian whimpering above him from overstimulation. Giving the tip one last kiss and pulling away.

Brian attempted to catch his breath, fingers almost a white shade from gripping the arm of the sofa so tight. Trying to ground himself as his body shook through the most earth shattering orgasm he's ever had. The muscles in his thighs aching from the tension that had finally been released and a hand covering his eyes to block out the harsh light from streaming into his eyes. A complete blissed out look on his face.

Jimmy Hendrix's was still playing in the background, muffled by his jumbled brain.

Roger had already zipped him up before giving his now clothed cock a gentle pat and sliding back up onto the sofa beside Brian. Reaching out to grab a fag before lighting it and taking a long drag.

"You alright, Mate?" Roger leaned up, slowly moving the other boy's now limp arm the limb too heavy to move with how relaxed his body was, the light blocked by Roger's face. Smoke fading into the air just before the other's face.

The guitarist could get used to this. Maybe not the smoke, but those big beautiful blissed out eyes definitely.

"Fine," he muttered leaning up to place a lazy peck on soft lips. "You're bloody amazing."

"You flatter me, Bri." Leaning down to kiss Brian before pulling away and plopping down in the cushion once more.

"What about you," Brian felt horrible he had gotten his rocks off and Roger was probably still straining against his jeans.

The boy smiled sheepishly, "don't worry. Already taken care of." And it took Brian a second to realize what he meant.

Roger came from sucking him off.

If Brian hadn't already had a mind blowing orgasm he was sure he would have gotten hard all over again.

His tea had all but gone cold by the time he leaned over to take a sip, but it was worth it.

The handle jiggling had Brian's head snapping towards the door, almost quick enough to strain a muscle.

"Darling, you'll never guess what I found today at the market," Freddie shimmed through the door and kicks his shoes off aimlessly, carrying a few large coats and other pieces varying in colors and styles. "Who's dreadfully boring shoes are these, Rog? Clogs, that's so old fashioned." The scoff had Brian rethinking his whole closet in a matter of seconds. He wanted to tell Roger's flatmate off, telling him just how stylish his clogs were.

The guitarist didn't mutter a word not wanting to be rude in someone else's flat.

"Freddie, don't be bloody rude. This is my mate, Brian. Bri, this is my twat of a flatmate Freddie." Brian stood quickly, reaching a hand out to shake Freddie's hand who had laid the pile in his arms down on the back of the sofa with a huff.

"Oh hush up, Dear." The older boy waved Roger off before smiling at Brian. Taking in his choice of clothing before quickly reaching out to touch the boy's hair. "Darling, what have you done to your hair? It's split end central. Let me fix it, Love."

Brian has never felt more self conscious in his whole life. Panic rising in his chest at the mention of his hair. "I have to go. Tim's probably going to be back soon and I have coursework to finish. I'll see you Thursday, Rog. Thanks for having me over." And quickly made his exit. Almost forgetting his shoes and bag in the process.

The two watched the retreating figure before the door was quietly shut.

"Freddie, you wanker. That was rude," Roger stood

"What," he shrugged, "you can't tell me you don't see the split ends."

"Doesn't mean you say something about it." Roger huffed.

Brian's heart was pounding by the time he made it down the stairs and to the door of his flat. Hands twitching to come up and play with the waved pieces of hair. Wanting to rip and pull every strand out, cursing the name of whoever cursed him with his hair.

Stupid curly hair.

It was silly really. To get upset about a comment on his hair, but that's something Brian had always been extremely insecure about. Keeping it short to avoid the afro of curls sprouting out of his head and straightening the short pieces to keep everything looking clean cut and fresh.

Just like everyone else.

"You right, Mate?" Tim made it up the last stair before finding Brian with his head pressed against their flat door, subconsciously twisting a piece of hair in his finger.

The guitarist jumped a little, head snapping to see Tim approaching him with a concerned look on his face. "Yeah, key won't work." It was blunt, short, and very unlike Brian.

Tim didn't mention it.

"You don't have your keys, Bri."

Brian's keys had been long forgotten after the embarrassment at Roger's apartment.

"I must have left them back at the cafe. I did stop by earlier, but I couldn't get the door open."

"Alright move over there, Grumpy. Daddy's got the special touch." That had Brian smiling, moving over to see if the other boy could possibly get the door open after he had tried and failed early on.

Tim started off by jiggling the handle after sticking the key in with no luck of turning it. Nothing happened. So, he pressed his shoulder against the door and, with two hands tried once more to turn it. With more effort than necessary, the lock budged just enough for the mechanism to give and allow the door to open once more.

"Told you, Daddy's got the special touch." Brian nudged past him with a laugh. Slipping out of his clogs and moving towards his bedroom where he laid his bag down with a sigh. Remembering all the work he still had to finish, he walked back to the kitchen to make himself a fresh cup of tea. Hoping that would keep him awake long enough to finish what he wanted to before he finally went to bed.

"You sure you're right, Bri? You seem a little off today..." The younger boy dropped into the sofa they had pitched in together to afford. Knowing trying to buy something like that would be too much for their wallets to handle. Lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

"Yeah, just tired is all," he faced their lounge. Watching as the bassist haphazardly plopped his books onto the coffee table. "I have some work to get done, so if you could just-"

"Keep it down, I know nerd boy. I wasn't going to do much tonight anyway. Just slap together my paper and maybe write more bass into 'Keep Yourself Alive'. Nothing too wild." He took another long drag before putting it out in the ashtray that sat next him, only cleaned because Brian refused to let the ashtray get out of control.

Brian finished making his tea and started back to his room.

"Thanks, Tim."

"You seem awfully happy today, Darling. Did you drag another unsuspecting Uni girl back to your bed?" Freddie was cradling his favorite mug, pink in color with 'Twat' written across it in bold letters, while he sat himself next to Roger. Sketch book out and open on something Freddie had been working on during one of his many boring lectures.

"No, even better." Roger turned to face the older boy, a smirk on his lips. "Remember a few months ago when we were talking about the guitarist?"

"You mean that was him?" The older boy took a sip of his tea before setting the mug down and picking his sketch book up. "You weren't kidding about his legs. They really do go on for miles." Hiking up his knees to his chest and placing the sketch book on his thighs. Turning to a clean page and starting a completely new sketch. 

"The very same. He was here helping me study while you were working."

"Oh?" Then it dawned on him, pulling him from his sketch. "Darling, you did not." Freddie gasps letting his book slide down his thighs and further into his lap to rest against his abdomen.

"Oh yes I did." Roger was proud of himself. A smug look on his face.

"You shagged the whole band? How scandalous!" The older boy had a hand over his mouth. Leaning in to hear more.

"Wha- no. The guitarist and me almost shagged. Totally blew him right here."

"Less adventurous, but I am intrigued. I hope you didn't stain my furniture. It took me hours to bargain with that old witch down at the market."

"Don't worry I took care of that," he chuckled. Leaning back to stare at the ceiling, yellowish stains adoring the usual white from years of smokers moving in. Freddie and Roger included.

"I'm glad I'm not in the presence of a quitter." Freddie winked and the two shared a laugh. "So, are you out catching yourself a cute guitarist?"

"No, I don't think I'm ready to settle. Too many opportunities, ya know? I figure this could be just something fun after a gig like friends with benefits." 

Freddie turned to face him, a serious look on his face. "Does he know that, Darling? He doesn't seem the type and we wouldn't want you stringing such a cutie along."

"Shit, I didn't even think about that," the blonde shrugged, "I'll just make sure he knows when I see him at practice. I'm sure he'll understand."

Time ticked on and before Brian knew it it was going on two in the morning. With a sigh he realized he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. Just now finishing his coursework with eyelids drooping and another yawn playing on his lips, he decided to shower and turn in for the night. Hoping to at least get some sleep before his lecture in just a few hours.

Shuffling through his bedroom and to the bathroom, knowing Tim had gone to bed long ago, he tried to be as quiet as possible. Grabbing a plush white towel and turning the water on only after closing the door. Brian knee it wouldn't cancel out all the noise of the water pounding against the tub floor, but it would muffle it enough to not wake Tim up.

He could probably sleep through the apocalypse.

Brian didn't spend much time in the shower, washing his body and letting the water wash over his curls. Running a healthy amount of shampoo through his hair he couldn't help but remember Freddie's words. Grabbing a strand of hair from his nap and pulling just enough to barely see the ends. 'Split ends', he had split ends. He wasn't stupid, knowing the more he straightened his hair the more damaged it would become. The heat set as high as it could go, pressing his curls into straight pieces so he could fit in with everyone else.

It was so silly, to be upset over hair. What guy cared about bloody hair?

With a sigh he hurried and finished up, drying off before stepping out and shuffling back to his room. Towel drying his hair and deciding to worry about the mop of curls in the morning. Putting on a comfortable pair of pajama before laying down and bed and staring at the ceiling.

Had Roger noticed his horribly spilt ends, smell his burnt damaged hair? Would he hate his curls as much as Brian did? Would he even care?

Darkness filled in when his eyes finally closed, sleep taking over but not completely. Leaving his subconscious to dwell in silly thoughts.

Brian woke up shooting up from his not so comfortable mattress with a gasp like he had woken up from a nightmare. Except this was something he couldn't wake up from.

He was going to be late.

Jumping out of bed, he threw on the first thing he saw which was a simple tee and some black jeans. Cursing Tim for not waking him up this morning or even bothering to check to see if he was up and moving.

Looking in the mirror he wanted to scream. There was no time to straighten his curls. Not even enough time to run the straightener over them quickly. Ruffling the short spirals with an aggravated sigh, he grabbed his bag and left. Not willing to be late for his lecture this morning.

With a minute to spare he made it just on time with his class gaping at him.

His day was shit. The professor was surprised at him showing up with little over a minute to get seated before class started. While his classmates were gaping at his wild curls, never having seen him with his curls out.

All day people at Uni who knew him stared, but it felt more like pointing and laughing in Brian's anxiety ridden mind. Wanting to just hurry home and straighten his hair after a long shower. Either that or shaving it all off and just wearing a hat.

Walking, more so stomping, up the stairs he made it to his apartment with the sour look never leaving his face.

"Brian?"

His heart dropped to his feet and shattered into thousands of pieces.

Turning slowly he was met with an empty corridor. Confusion etched into his features, a weight lifted off his chest. Maybe that hadn't been Roger's voice and it was just his mind playing evil tricks.

"Hey, up here." No that was Roger's voice.

Brian looked up to find Roger peaking down from the railing of the stairs, halfway up with his hands full of more than it looked like he could handle. "Oh, hey Rog."

"You let your curls out then?" Brian's thoughts drifted back to the pair of scissors in the apartment he was so close to being inside of. Before he could pretend he didn't hear the boy and ultimately be rude, Roger spoke up again with a smile on his face and a grunt. Shifting the clothes in his arms, "it looks good, Bri. I like it."

Long fingers came up to gently grab one of his curls, pulling it just enough to stretch and lose its spiral before letting it go and bounce back to its original position. Maybe his curls weren't so bad.

"Oh hey, wait right there." The younger boy huffed out before disappearing. Brian watched him go, standing awkwardly in front of his flat's door. It only took a moment or two for Roger to come running down the stairs with the pile of clothes long gone and in their place his keys he had left the day before.

"Thanks, Rog. Sorry about yesterday I didn't mean to leave so suddenly I just knew Tim would be back soon and-"

The drummer just smiled, "don't worry about it. I'm sorry about Fred. He can be a little blunt, but the curls really do suit you." He leaned in, "I bet they'll be even better to get my fingers tangled in." It was whispered close to his ear, breath hitching.

"Wanna find out?" It was the first time Brian was confident around the younger boy. Always finding he hadn't a leg to stand on with Roger.

He chuckled, "maybe tomorrow. I have a bit more studying to do before my exam and I can't let our studying go to waste." Roger could see the embarrassment flare up on the boy's face any quickly tried to remedy that. "Trust me, I'd take you up on that offer if I didn't already promise Freddie I would go over inventory with him and I didn't have to study." 

"I'll see you at practice then?" Brian's smile returned, feeling lighter at knowing he wasn't just being blown off. 

"Of course. I'll see ya, Bri" And the other boy watched as he walked up the stairs and back to his flat only to turn half way up, "hey, Bri?"

"Yeah, Rog?"

Roger's head peaked from the side of the stairs, "You don't mind this being just for fun, do you? Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?"

Brian's heart dropped. Smile fading and heart starting to tear. Just for fun? Which meant he had no chance with Roger. No chance to wake up beside the beautiful blonde and be able to call him his. There wouldn't be any cuddling or movie dates where they could cuddle up on one of their sofas and pay more attention to each other than the movie. He wouldn't be able to steal kisses, buy him drinks, take him out to see the stars. All of that was just another dream.

"Yeah, of course."

He would take what he could get.

Chapter Text


July 1970

Roger had overheard the two talking one cool afternoon. The drummer had been taking apart his kit when Tim quickly packed up and moved over to the guitarist with a mischievous smile on his face.

"So, any plans for your birthday?" Brian sighed, turning from his guitar and to Tim.

Every year he spent his birthday the same way, going home and putting on the tele. Watching whatever was on with one of his favorite vegetarian meals from the little restaurant a little ways walk from the flat.  Back home he would make time to have a cake with his parents, making small talk before making an excuse to go to his room and read.

It was easier and less disappointing this way. Instead of throwing a big party with people he barely knew and drinks he wouldn't drink. Getting drunk and acting like an idiot was not his thing. Only having ever done it once with Tim last year and it had been less than fun finding himself holding onto the bin for dear life and hoping the waves of nausea would pass.

"Oh, come on, Mate. We had fun last year." The snaps on the guitar case were loud and seemed to echo through the room.

"No, I remember you having fun and bringing some bird home while I had to stumble back to the flat by myself." He grabbed his case and started towards the door, refusing to get caught up in Tim's pleading until he agreed.

Roger pipped up then, excited. "Come on, Bri. You gotta have some fun. It's your birthday!" And that had Brian faltering at the door, hand frozen at the handle. "We could all go out and celebrate-" he cut himself off, "even better me and Freddie can throw you a party."

Brian had to fight the immediate yes that was hanging off the tip of his tongue. "That's alright, Rog. Don't worry about it."

"Nope, too late. It's settled we're having a party."

And Brian couldn't argue with the boy when he looked so excited. So, he let it happen.

Freddie and Roger had spent what money they weren't using for rent (as well as what Tim had given them) to buy a cake and lots of alcohol, handing out invitations at the market to people their age as well as around Uni. Pushing furniture around to make room and setting out snacks for their party guests, planning on simply ordering some pizza as it was the easiest.

Their flat that Friday night was full of people before Brian had even made it back from Uni, Roger having skipped practice to help Freddie finish setting up and to pick up Brian's cake. A simple vanilla cake with 'Happy Birthday Brian' written in cursive blue frosting. By the time Brian was ushered to the flat by Tim, it was already packed to the point where the two had to shoulder their way through. Music blasting and lights dimmed.

It was exactly what Brian didn't want.

Roger spotted the two immediately, his attention moving from the blonde he was talking to and pulled Brian in for a hug yelling over the music. Already smelling of strong beer and cigarettes, "happy birthday, Mate. Twenty four, is it?"

Brian couldn't find it in himself to recoil in disgust at the smell of nicotine and beer mixing on the boy's breath. "Thanks, Rog. That's right, pretty old huh?"

And the drummer laughed like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard, still on the slippery edge of piss drunk at this point. "Ancient really," he laughed, "well have fun and I'll find you later." Giving the taller boy a wink before slapping his ass and sending him on his way.

Brian found himself pushing through the crowd and sitting on the sofa that had started everything. Tapping his foot to the beat of the music that could barely be heard over the bass. He thought about the quiet evening he had planned for himself. Having put money aside for the vegetarian meal he choose and thinking about what could be on the tele. The news maybe or possibly a rerun of that film everyone had ranted about at Uni.

Anywhere but here would have been much better.

It took less than an hour before Brian found his opening to sneak out, Tim caught up in a conversation with a brunette he hadn't seen before and Roger talking with Freddie. Ducking out the door with a sigh before moving up the stairs. Going to the one place he knew Tim wouldn't think to go.

The roof was one of his favorite places to be when he wanted to get away from everyone. Knowing Tim wouldn't bother to look up on the roof for him. It was the only place he could truly be alone without anyone barging in or interrupting him. Spending most of his time here when he could whether that be for song writing or finishing up a paper. It was just peaceful up here with the stars being the only thing to light up his work.

Brian laid down on the ground, arms behind his head. Choosing to get lost in the beauty of the millions of stars instead of the party he didn't even want downstairs.

It was nice. To forget everything for awhile and lose himself just for a bit. No responsibilities, no deadlines, and no Roger. And it lasted for longer than Brian cared to keep track of. The sound of the old metal door creaking open broke him from his staring, wondering who had finally found his hiding spot.

"Hey, I was wondering where you disappeared to. We're about to cut the cake." Brian didn't have to turn his head to know who it was standing just a few feet away. Keeping his eyes trained on the stars above that made him feel so much smaller. "You right, Mate?" He didn't look to the drummer until a concerned face blocked out the night sky, blue eyes staring down at him.

Thoughts of pulling the boy down and kissing him here, on the dingy roof of their flat building under the light of the moon and billions of stars. How romantic it would be to enjoy each others company without interruption or lust clouding their judgement. Before he could gain the courage to pull the boy down, Roger moved out of his line of sight and instead laid beside him, arms behind his head.

"I'm alright, you can go back and enjoy the party I know you and Tim were having fun. I just needed to get some air." Brian quickly explained, not wanting to ruin the boy's fun.

The younger boy smiled and turned his head to look at the side of Brian's face. Curls lay flat against the backs of Brian's arms, expression unreadable, eyes staring almost longingly at the stars above.

"You sure you're right, Mate? You seem a bit down," Roger turned on his side, "you know you can tell me anything."

Anything surely didn't include telling Roger he wasn't sure how much longer he could do this. Pretending he wasn't falling further and further for the boy who played the drums like no one else, had a beautifully unique voice when he spoke and especially when he sang, and could easily be compared to an angel. And that anything definitely didn't include telling Roger he wanted to wake up beside the blonde, walking to Uni hand in hand, making time to spend it together.

None of that was included in anything.

"Just have a lot on my mind I guess," he shrugged. Not turning to look at the boy beside him.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Brian turned his head slowly to finally face Roger, worried blue eyes meeting sad hazel. Taking in the way the moonlight lit Roger's face up. Getting lost in the way the light bounced along the pools of Roger's eyes.

The drummer smiled softly, "we don't have to. Just a suggestion." Shuffling closer to lay his head on the other's chest. They lie in silence for a moment or two before Roger spoke up again, "tell me about the stars?"

And he did, feeling himself relax as he pointed out the stars to the blonde. Watching with a soft smile at the wonder in the other's eyes. Arm falling asleep against Roger's weight, but Brian couldn't care less. Pulling the younger boy closer against him. The rumbling of the older boy's chest as he talked slowly put Roger to sleep, fighting against it best he could until his eyes finally shut and his body relaxed further if possible.

It was cute.

Brian had never gotten the chance to watch the slow raise and fall of the other's chest. Lashes fanning gently over his skin, lips parted, and hair fanned over his chest.

It was hard not to smile at the sight of the sleeping boy. Fingers playing with the soft locks of hair and fighting the urge to lean down and kiss the top of the boy's head. It wasn't long before Brian was pulled into sleep with Roger snuggled up against him.

It wasn't till the sun had started to raise over the buildings did Brian wake, yawning. Confusion evident on his face, he looked down trying to find what was holding him down. Only to be greeted with Roger's still sleeping face buried in his chest.

He was sure if his heart swelled any further it would burst from his chest.

Tightening his arm around the other's waist, he pulled him impossibly closer and leaned down to place a kiss against Roger's head. Shifting to give his sore muscles a little bit of a break.

God this was all he wanted. To wake up like this every morning with Roger right beside him. But Roger wasn't interested in anything more than sex and Brian would just have to accept that.

The guitarist thought about just laying there, watching the sun rise with the beautiful blonde laying peacefully in his arms, but he also knew he had a class in the next few hours and from his knowledge so did the other boy. So, instead of putting off the inevitable, he carefully shifted so he could sit up a bit and stroked Roger hair. Calling at his name was loud enough to break over the sound of bird chirping and leaves rustling.

"Rog, Mate, time to get up." All he got in response was a loud whine. The boy's hands tightened in Brian's t-shirt, holding on tight to sleep. Face scrunched up and brows furrowed. "Come on, Rog." Hands pulled the boy up, loosening his grip in the tee he was holding onto for dear life. Roger choosing to block the light and Brian's soft voice by burying his face in the other's neck. Settling against the broad chest he had spent the night on top of. "Rog."

"Don't wanna, go back to sleep." It was slurred into his neck, the warm breath fanning over his skin made him shiver.

"Up and at em, Love. Can't sleep in forever." Brian spoke as close to the boy's ear as he could get, earning him another whine before Roger slowly pulled away with tired blue eyes.

"Fuck," he yawned and stretched, "my muscles are killing me."

The guitarist huffed, "how do you think I feel. You at least got a little cushion." It was fake annoyance, the smile never leaving his face. Watching the drummer rub at his eyes and fight back an onslaught of yawns.

A tired smile appeared on Roger's face, "thanks, Bri." And that had Brian's heart jumping into his throat. Wanting to take a mental picture of Roger's hair a mess, eyes tired, and an easy smile on his face.

"You're welcome."

It was another day of practice (and only two days before Roger's birthday), sweat dripping from heated skin. They all drank as much water as they could since the practice room felt like a million degrees. The room being at the older part of the building that had an old air conditioning system that had been broken for years now. The drummer complained the whole time. Wanting to go home and take a freezing cold shower. Getting down to just his shorts, hoping and praying the air conditioning would kick in and cool his boiling skin.

Brian would have taken in every inch of exposed skin if his mind wasn't stuck on the heat and how unbearable it was.

The three agree to cut practice short since it seemed everyone was too focused on trying not to melt into the old carpet. Short bursts of arguments breaking out between the three due to their irritability caused by the weather. In the midst of a heatwave at the worst time for the three. Needing to get ready for a gig in the upcoming weeks and they needed all the practice they could get.

"Alright, let's break it up." Tim called, wiping his bottle of water over his forehead. Hoping to cool himself down even a little bit.

The two sighed in relief, packing up while trying to drown their water down. Throats dry, skin burning, and sweat dripping from every pore. It was a nightmare really.

Brian left first, Roger taking his time in hopes of talking to Tim.

"Hey, Tim. Do you think you could do me a favor?" He stood with a huff, stuffing his shirt into his bag before looking at the bassist who was snapping the snaps on his case.

Tim looked over curiously at the drummer, "yeah sure, what's up Mate?"

"Do you mind keeping Brian from the flat for a little bit? I wanna set up his birthday gift and don't want him coming home before it's all done." Roger three his bag over his shoulder, sticks gripped in his sweaty hands.

The bassist shrugged, "yeah sure," he shuffled through his things before tossing the keys towards Roger who caught them with little trouble. "I'll have him back before eight. If you leave before than just leave my keys." And with that he left, hoping to catch up with the lanky boy before he was out of sight.

Roger practically ran back to the flat building, huge smile on his face. Ready to see the look on Brian's face once his gift was set up, knowing the boy would love it.

It took a bit, juggling the lock like he'd see Brian do more often than not, before the door unlocked and he was in the much neater flat. Only having been inside a few times to hangout with the older boy. They usually met at Roger's since Brian was terrified of Tim finding out about their little arrangement.

It wasn't hard to navigate through the flat, kicking his shoes off and finding Brian's room easily. It was clean and especially neat. A simple twin sized bed pushed against the wall, a book shelf with more books than Roger and Freddie combined owned, and a desk facing away from the bed. It was simple and yet so Brian. Smiling when he saw the poster of Jimmy Hendrix next to his bed and all the pictures of clusters of stars.

Brian would definitely love his gift.

Opening his bag, he quickly found the bag of stars and set to work. Pulling out a book with constellations as reference of where to lay the stars. Having to condense the placements since the room wasn't all that big. It took awhile, but he was placing the last star with a proud smile and a sigh of relief when he heard the door open.

"I'll just be in my room if you need me for anything, ok? And thanks again for lunch." It was Brian's voice, his bare feet shuffling across the old wood. Closing in on his bedroom.

Roger silently thanked whoever was out there that he closed the door behind him so he had a second to climb down the chair he had taken from the desk, turn the lights off, and push himself into the closet. Pushing the door open just a crack so he would be able to see Brian's face when he finally made it into his room.

"Yeah, no problem, Star Boy." The drummer could hear a muffled version of Tim's voice before the bedroom door was gently opened and a moment later a gasp.

Brian looked in awe at the glowing stars on his ceiling. Smiling fondly when he recognized the star clusters were constellations someone had taken the time to replicate.

"Surprise," Roger whispered as he moved from his hiding spot. The guitarist almost had a heart attack, closing the door quickly so Tim wouldn't see the shorter boy in his room.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?" Questions were tossed his way and Roger waved them off.

"I wanted to surprise you," The drummer gestured to the stars he had spent the last few hours putting up, "I wanted to do something special since I felt like a real tosser for not getting you anything for your birthday and after that night on the roof I thought this would be a good idea."

Brian nearly lost all the breath in his lungs, his heart clenching. "You mean you did this? How...?" Hazel met very amused blue.

"Saw them at the shop and knew it would be perfect. As for the constellations I just picked up a book and used that as my reference. I know they're not exact, but-"

The guitarist lurched forward and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy's waist. Holding him tight while his heart rated picked up further. Never in his twenty four years has anyone gone out of their way to do something so nice for him.

"I love it, Rog. Thank you." They stayed like that for longer than just a friendly hug, hearts thumping and listening for any signs Tim would come barging in and interrupting their moment. Brian slowly pulling away first only to be met with a very content Roger. Their eyes met and like magnet, they were drawn to each other. Lips pressing together in the gentlest kiss they had ever shared.

Usually one, normally Roger, would smash their lips against the other. Teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance. Burying fingers into blonde locks or a curly mane.

Not this time.

This was soft and gentle, slow and something so sweet. Roger's finger's tangling themselves into Brian's hair while the other held the boy close with arms wrapped tight around his waist.

When the slowly pulled away, looking into each other's eyes, their eyes met again. Laughing awkwardly putting some distance between themselves.

"Thanks again, Rog."

That was the first time Roger's heart thumped loudly in his ears, smiling at Brian who had chosen to turn his gaze to the artificial stars.

"You played too fast tonight, Rog. I told you to slow down during 'Doing Alright'." Tim sighed, resting his head against the side of the van.

They sat parked outside a pub they only had just finished their gig at. Loading up their van before a night of celebration, getting pissed and stumbling back to their flat. Only Tim didn't want that. Deciding after what he thought was a shitty performance that now would be the right time to tell the other two he would be leaving them.

"Are you joking? Play any slower and it'll sound like a bloody death march." Roger huffed, taking a drag before blowing the smoke out and taking a swing of his beer.

"It was a little too fast, Rog." Brian piped from the other side of Roger who rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Oh, sod off. You can barely play your own solo. So, before you say anything about my playing how about you critic yourself." It was spat out and mean. He meant it to hurt and it did.

Tim sighed. This was it, "Listen guys, this was fun while it lasted but we're not going anywhere. All we do is fight and play gigs that aren't even worth our time."

"What are you saying, Tim?" It was Brian who spoke up after the long pause between the three. The only noise being the pounding bass from the pub.

"I'm joining a band, Humpy Bong a-"

"Humpy Bong," Roger laughed bitterly, "Tim do you even hear yourself?"

"Don't do it, Tim," Brian shook his head, curls bouncing to frame his sharp features. A sad look in his eyes.

Instead of saying anything he grabbed his bass that had been resting careful in the back of their van. Throwing the strap over his shoulder before smiling sadly. "Good luck, Mates."

They watched Tim's retreating figure until he was a small blimp in the far distance. Beer bottles held tight in their hands.

"What a joke. Humpy Bong," Roger laughed bitterly, "bloody wanker." He took a long drag before tossing the fag from the back of the van and stomping the light out.

"He does have a point... we could have done better tonight."

"We didn't sound like complete shit, Bri." The drummer lit another fag and blew the smoke at Brian's face. "Why do you always have to agree with him?"

"Rog, let's not do this right now." Brian took another gulp of his beer, sitting it beside him while Roger fumes in front of him.

"No, fuck you. What do you have a massive boner for the bloke? Every time we have a band disagreement you're on his side and I'm sick of it." He finished his beer with one last swing before sitting it next to the others on the ground by the van.

"Rog, please you know that's not true. I don't just agree with Tim I agree with what I think is right."

"Oh, so you think he's right then. I play like shit?"

"No on-"

Roger took another drag, flicking the bud to the ground and blowing smoke into Brian's face. "Oh come off it." he slid out of the van and started towards the pub, "don't wait up." The older boy watched with a sigh as Roger walked back into the pub, lighting another fag as he went.

It took Brian a moment or two to swallow the last of his beer before picking up the mess they had made with a sigh. Moving back into the pub in hopes of finding Roger and apologizing. He didn't mean to upset the drummer he just didn't think it was a big deal if he commented on a small, fixable mistake.

There was no chance of apologizing, Brian realized, when he found Roger by the bar flirting with the group of girls there who seemed more than interested. With a sigh, he knew it would just have to wait until tomorrow. Spotting Freddie in the sea of people and making his way over. Wanting to at least be out a bit longer before trudging back to his flat.

"You'll need someone new, then?" Freddie asked over his glass of something strong and fruity, just the way he liked it. Him and Brian had sat together at one of the tables in the back. The younger boy not wanting to dance and Freddie, surprisingly agreed for once. At least for now.

"Fred, you've known from the start we wanted you in Smile. Tim was just too stubborn to get off the bloody mic and let you have a shot." The guitarist spoke with a bit of a bite, annoyed at Roger's obvious flirting and the fact the band was now in shambles because of Tim.

Ok so it wasn't all Tim's fault, but Brian could bloody well think so until the morning when he would inevitably see the other making tea while he was cradling his head with the awful hangover he knew he would have.

Freddie could tell Brian was distracted, more so than usual which got his attention. Following the boy's bummed out expression to the sea of Uni students grinding against each other. A flash of blonde caught his attention and he couldn't help the knowing smile that played on his lips. Roger was leaning up on the bar, cradling a beer in one hand and a fag between his lips. The girl he was flirting with had Freddie smiling even bigger. She was a brunette, long waves cascading down her back and soft hazel eyes.

Friends with benefits my ass.

"Why don't you just tell him, Bri? Burning holes into his conquests won't do you much good I'm afraid."

That seemed to snap Brian out of his bummed haze, looking at Freddie like a child who had been caught stealing from the cookie jar. "What are you talking about? Tell him what?"

"Oh please we both know you aren't staring at the bird that looks like she could be your long lost sister and he's not really interested in getting in her pants."

Brian sighed, "he's not interested and I don't want to ruin our friendship. Plus the band is already a mess and I don't want to mess it up further by losing an amazing drummer."

"You'll both regret it if one of you doesn't say something." The older boy shrugged. Finishing off his drink before giving Brian a sympathetic pat and moving towards the bar. Lighting a fag as he went.

Roger took the brunette home.

Brian tried not to notice.

The next day Roger had come knocking on Brian's door only moments after Tim had left for band practice. Thinking it was their ex bassist he flung the door open with an annoyed look only to find the blonde his thought kept drifting to standing before him. Smelling of alcohol and one too many cigarettes, Roger grabbed the collar of his button up and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Pushing the boy further into the flat so he could kick the door closed behind them. They managed to carefully navigate through Brian's much cleaner flat all the way into his bedroom. Adored with stuck on glow in the dark stars Roger bought and put up for him as a birthday gift. Soon the backs of the drummers legs hit the edge of the bed before he was sent backwards, bringing the unsuspecting boy with him with a squeal and a laugh.

"Can we... take this slow today?" Roger had muttered so soft Brian was afraid he hadn't heard him right. His shirt pulled haphazardly up his chest, lips sucking bruises into the skin.

"... of course, Lo- Mate." The older boy had to bite back the pet name, afraid of scaring Roger off.

They spent the rest of the day doing what most would call 'Making Love', but the two didn't think about it. Both biting back an 'I Love you' as they came together. Instead of grabbing his clothes and leaving like he normally did, Roger stayed. Brian curled up around him, securing him in strong arms.

That was the first time Roger thought about what it would be like to lay in Brian's arms, wake up next to him. Cuddled up in the guitarist long arms and breath sending goosebumps along his skin. Roger pushes the thought away quickly before it could bloom.

Or so he thought.